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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago

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Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you.

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"

"I don't have time for this-"

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.

"What happened?" He strains.

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?"

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw

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daryltwdixon · 4 months ago

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Summary: Being raised by a survivalist father meant learning two things: endure at all costs, and trust no one. And you lived by those rules, even after he was gone, surviving alone in a world that never gave second chances. But enduring becomes far more complicated when a familiar face returns, burdened with a fierce young girl and a mission that was never meant to include you. When you're forced from the only home you’ve ever known, survival is no longer just about the next meal or the next breath—it’s about who you become when there’s no way back. You’ve spent years believing your father’s lessons—that needing people is a sign of weakness. But as the miles stretch on, as survival becomes more than just a fight for the next day, one truth becomes harder to ignore—you can’t live by your father’s rule of trusting no one anymore.

And one man makes following that rule damn near impossible.

Themes: Joel miller x reader slow burn romance, post-outbreak, grief, healing, angst & longing.

Warnings: canon-type violence, death, depictions of grief and trauma, age gap romance, suicide (referenced, not graphic), intimacy and eventual smut. 18+ only MDNI, but I can't control what you do so discretion is advised.

Other: reader is afab, long hair (enough to grab, put up in a ponytail) may be mentioned. no other physical characteristics. graphics do not reflect character description, only used for vibes. Follows Season 1 of The Last of Us. Blend of show and game canon. Picture Joel as you prefer, but I will be mentioning Pedro Pascal's brown eyes. No use of Y/N. In the beginning of the story, time hops are not canon.

Prologue

Before: 5 Years Old

Before: 10 Years Old

Before: 15 Years Old

Before: 18 Years Old

Before: 20 Years Old

Before: 23 Years Old

Now: 25 Years Old

Chapter 1: Joel and Ellie

Chapter 2: Escape

Chapter 3: The Envelope

Chapter 4: Fungus Ain't That Smart

Chapter 5: Kansas City

Chapter 6: The Climb

Chapter 7: Turret

Chapter 8: Strangers

Chapter 9: Spotlight

Chapter 10: Into the Water

Chapter 11: The Suburbs

Chapter 12: Fight and Flight

Chapter 13: Breaking Point

Chapter 14: One Month Later

Chapter 15: Jackson

Chapter 16: Thresholds

Chapter 17: Thinking of You

Chapter 18: Betrayal

Chapter 19: On the Road Again

Chapter 20: The Basement

Chapter 21: David

Chapter 22: Capture

Chapter 23: Blood and Fire

Chapter 24: What Comes After

Chapter 25: Waterways

Chapter 26: What Was Lost and What Was Taken

Epilogue

Ever After

Four Years Later

more coming soon

Hey, you beautiful, amazing people.

I don’t even know where to start, but thank you. Seriously. From the bottom of my heart: to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, screamed in the tags, sent me messages, or just silently followed along—you made this story so much more than I ever imagined.

Every comment, every reaction, every little freak-out over a scene made my day (and honestly fueled me to keep going). The way you connected with this story, these characters—it means everything. Writing this was one thing, but experiencing it with all of you? That was the best part.

So, to everyone who stuck with me, whether from the beginning or just recently—thank you for being here. Thank you for caring. Thank you for making this so special.

I love you all. Truly.

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mrgoldmc26 · 3 months ago

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Blackpink's Crazy Night in Paris Part 1 ft. Lisa

Tags: Blowjob, facefuck, anal, pussy eating, creampie, dirty talk, cum swallowing and more...

Word Count: 8.7k

A/N: First time posting here on Tumblr. I write and post all my stuff on AO3, but decided to make the jump to Tumblr thanks to a friend. I'm a relatively new K-Pop fan, and he's helped me find out a lot about new groups, songs and idols over these past few months. Before I met him, I only knew about Blackpink and IVE, and now I actually think I stan more groups and idols than him 🤣

Anyways, I think that for the next few days, I will keep this account as an only K-Pop account, but I could change my mind at any minute and post my other series in here too. I will create a masterlist very shortly as well, in which I will also mention which groups and idols I'm planning to write about in the future.

I'm really excited to start my Tumblr journey with you all. I follow a lot of K-Pop smut writers in here, and I hope that I can bring something to the community with my stories. My main kinks are gangbangs, blowjobs, dirty talk and facials, so expect a lot of stories like that 😝

I'm gonna try to do what I do on AO3, and reply to every comment, but because I'm new to this platform and UI, it's gonna take a while before I get used to it. Also, really wanna do those smutty asks that I see my favourite writers do once in a while, so send me those.

Anyways, sorry for wasting your time with this long ass A/N. I hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

On the evening of September 28, 2023, as the sun dipped below the Parisian skyline, the area surrounding 12 Avenue George V buzzed with an electric anticipation. The iconic Crazy Horse cabaret, known for its avant-garde performances, was about to host a night that would be etched in the history of the entertainment business, as Blackpink's Lisa was set to perform.

Outside the venue, a sea of paparazzi had gathered, their cameras poised to capture the arrival of the evening's distinguished guests. The soft hum of conversations was occasionally punctuated by the flash of bulbs, illuminating the cobblestone streets in brief, dazzling bursts.

The first few guests started to arrive, and not too long after, Lisa's bandmates (Jisoo, Jennie, and Rosé) made their presence known. Dressed in chic ensembles that effortlessly blended sophistication with modern flair, they stepped out of their sleek black limousine, offering polite smiles to the sea of photographers. Their presence was a testament to the unbreakable bond shared among the Blackpink members, each there to support Lisa's solo endeavors.

Moments later, the atmosphere grew even more charged as the President of France, Emmanuel Macron, accompanied by the First Lady, made their entrance. Their attendance highlighted the significance of the event, bridging the worlds of politics and entertainment. The President, with a cordial nod to the crowd, escorted his wife through the grand entrance, both exuding an air of elegance befitting the occasion.

The exclusivity of the evening event was palpable. With only 250 seats available, the guest list was an exclusive collection of Lisa's closest associates, influential billionaires, and visionaries from various industries. Famous athletes, chart-topping singers, and renowned actors, many of whom had crossed paths with Lisa in her illustrious career, gathered to experience a performance that promised to be nothing short of extraordinary. Among the most notable attendees were Latin pop sensation Rosalía, known for her genre-blending style that combines flamenco with urban sounds, and Tyga, a well-known rapper with a series of charting hits.

Also in attendance was the PSG football team, who turned out in full force for the exclusive event. Among the many noteworthy figures of the squad, two stood out, with the first being Kylian Mbappé, the club's star player. He was one of the highest-paid footballers globally, with his immense popularity reflected in his social media following of over 100 million Instagram followers, a testament to his global influence both on and off the field.

The other noteworthy figure of the PSG squad was actually Nasser Al-Khelaifi, the president and CEO of Paris Saint-Germain. With an estimated net worth of around $300 million, Al-Khelaifi exuded the wealth and power that comes with his position. His fortune and influence in the sports world were undeniable, and therefore, it wasn't a surprise to see him at the prestigious event.

The gathering was a testament to Lisa's wide-reaching impact and her ability to draw in the most powerful figures from various spheres of influence, all of whom had come together for an unforgettable evening.

Upon entering the cabaret, guests were greeted by an ambiance that seamlessly blended classic Parisian charm with contemporary allure. The intimate space was filled with rows of plush velvet seating, each chair arranged meticulously to offer a perfect view of the stage. The deep red color of the furniture contrasted elegantly with the dim, golden lighting, casting a warm glow that enveloped the room.

The stage itself was a masterpiece of minimalist design. A polished ebony floor stretched out, flanked by cascading crimson curtains that hinted at the mysteries they concealed. Above, an intricate array of lights hung, poised to bathe the performers in a spectrum of colors and patterns, setting the tone for each act.

As the guests settled into their seats, a hush of anticipation descended upon the room. Soft murmurs filled the air, with attendees speculating about the evening's performance. Champagne glasses made soft clinking sounds, and the light scent of perfumes filled the air, combining to create an enchanting atmosphere.

As the clock struck 9, the lighting gradually dimmed, drawing the audience's focus entirely toward the stage, as the gentle hum of conversation faded into an anticipatory hush. A single spotlight pierced the darkness, illuminating the velvet curtains as they parted with a graceful sweep. The orchestra, hidden from view, began to play a haunting melody, its notes weaving through the air and drawing the audience further into the spell of anticipation. As the melody built in complexity, subtle rhythmic beats emerged, layering energy into the atmosphere. Slowly, the music swelled, and the velvet curtains parted to reveal the first act. The performers burst onto the stage with electrifying energy, their intricate dance routine seamlessly blending classic burlesque with contemporary choreography. They moved in perfect harmony, their glittering costumes catching the light with every twist and turn, creating a mesmerizing display of color and movement for the guests.

In between the acts, champagne glasses clinked softly, and servers offered trays of elegant finger foods. Guests nibbled on small, bite-sized snacks like soft, flaky pastries filled with creamy cheese, along with smoked salmon served on delicate crackers. There were also sweet pastries filled with smooth cream and a hint of chocolate. These refined treats, paired with the finest champagne, were just enough to keep the guests satisfied without distracting from the captivating performance unfolding before them.

Each subsequent act brought a unique flair to the stage, from sultry solos to daring acrobatic performances, each designed to keep the audience captivated. The air in the cabaret was charged with excitement, the performers delivering an enticing blend of skill and sensuality that left the crowd mesmerized. While the audience applauded generously for each act, there was an unspoken sense that these were but tantalizing preludes to the main event. The murmurs between performances carried a single thread: anticipation for Lisa’s debut.

Backstage, Lisa steadied herself for her debut as a 'Crazy Girl.' The faint hum of the audience filtered through the velvet curtains, a symphony of murmurs and clinking champagne glasses that signaled their anticipation. She adjusted the feathered mask in her hands, its sleek black feathers accented with tiny crystals that caught the dim backstage lighting. As she slipped it on, she couldn’t help but smirk softly. Tonight, she wasn’t just performing. She was about to shock everyone in attendance. They had come expecting a show, but none of them truly believed Lisa would push the boundaries too far. They’d soon realize how wrong they were.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and stepped into the wings, her heart pounding in rhythm with the crescendo of the orchestra. As the stage manager gave her the cue, she walked into the light.

The applause erupted instantly, cheers and whistles rolling over her like waves. The guests leapt to their feet, clapping and whistling, their excitement palpable in the air. The chairs stretched out in neat rows, each one filled with a captivated guest, but Lisa’s eyes instinctively found three very familiar faces in the front row. Jennie, with Jisoo to her left and Rosé to her right, were seated directly in Lisa's line of sight, their presence adding a familiar comfort as she stepped onto the stage. Lisa’s expression remained serene, her features unreadable behind the mask that framed her piercing gaze. She exuded control, poised and untouchable, her presence commanding the room. The applause softened after several seconds, and the guests slowly returned to their seats, still caught in the lingering admiration for her.

Her outfit was an intricate masterpiece of decadence and allure. The feathered mask was paired with a collar necklace of white diamonds, shimmering brilliantly and drawing attention to her elegant neck. Draped over her shoulders was a fitted, tailored jacket encrusted with emeralds and black sapphires, their deep green and midnight hues reflecting the stage lights in a mesmerizing dance. The jacket hugged her waist, sculpting her figure, and it glittered with every subtle movement. Her arms were adorned with long, black lace gloves, the delicate fabric extending nearly to her shoulders, adding an extra layer of sensuality.

Her legs were encased in sheer black stockings, the tops of which were trimmed with delicate lace. They extended down to a pair of sky-high stiletto heels, patent leather and perfectly polished, each step a click that commanded attention. The ensemble was completed by a pair of high-waisted panties, their design both seductive and practical, with a discreet hook at the hip, designed for quick removal.

Every detail of her ensemble, from the luxurious fabric to the dazzling embellishments, had been designed to evoke both elegance and temptation, a perfect embodiment of the Crazy Horse legacy.

Lisa stood still for a moment, letting the audience absorb her presence. The spotlight cast a halo of brilliance around her as she slowly raised her chin, her eyes sweeping over the crowd with an unflinching gaze. Unfazed by the loud applause, she was entirely in control, her purpose clear. This was her stage, her moment, and she was there to deliver not just a performance, but an unforgettable experience.

The music shifted, its beat more rhythmic and flowing, as Lisa was joined by her six backup dancers, their silhouettes sharp against the dim lighting. With a flick of her wrist, she signaled the start of the routine, and the dancers fell into flawless formation, moving with precision and grace. The choreography was a perfect blend of contemporary and cabaret-inspired dance, with slow and controlled movements that captivated the audience with every step. Lisa led the group effortlessly, her elegance and poise commanding the stage as they performed intricate formations and synchronized spins. The dancers mirrored her movements flawlessly, their long black lace gloves shimmering under the stage lights, adding to the sensuality and sophistication of the performance. Every gesture was a moment of elegance, as the group executed their movements in unison, creating a visual harmony that left the audience in awe.

As the music faded for just a moment, the spotlight shifted solely to Lisa. The dancers, now positioned far away from her, stood frozen in place, allowing the focus to remain entirely on Lisa. With a sultry look in her eyes, she raised her hands to her face, and the audience held its breath in anticipation. Jennie, Jisoo, and Rosé were already clapping and cheering, along with the rest of the crowd, their excitement palpable as Lisa began to remove her gloves. Slowly, sensually, she used her teeth to grip the edge of one black lace glove, pulling it off with teasing slowness, every motion deliberate and captivating. As the first glove was discarded, the crowd reacted, cheers and whistles filling the air. Lisa then slid the second glove off with her now-gloveless hand, continuing the slow, seductive removal. The cheers grew louder, waves of admiration pouring from the audience, while Jennie, Jisoo, and Rosé clapped and hollered, their enthusiasm unmistakable. With the gloves finally gone, Lisa resumed her performance, the dancers returning to their positions as the music swelled again. The room buzzed with excitement, the air thick with the energy of her sensual display, as every eye remained locked on her. The sensual tension lingered, intensifying the connection between Lisa and the audience, their anticipation hanging in the air like a breath held too long.

As the music built to a crescendo, the dancers executed their final formation with a smooth, synchronized turn, pausing for a brief moment of stillness before striking their last pose. Lisa’s presence remained the focal point, her confident gaze sweeping over the crowd as she gracefully led the group in the final stretch of the routine. With the last beats echoing through the room, Lisa reached up and removed her black feathered mask in one fluid motion, revealing her striking features to the audience. The timing was flawless. Just as the performance ended and her mask came off, the crowd erupted into applause. The dancers took their bows alongside Lisa, the curtains began to close, and the stage was enveloped in darkness for several seconds, the energy hanging in the air as anticipation grew for what was to come next.

Suddenly, the lights flared back to life, bathing the room in a brilliant glow. In the center of the stage stood Lisa, her silhouette sharp against the illumination. She was alone now, the absence of her dancers creating an intoxicating tension in the air. With a slow, deliberate movement, she reached up, her fingers tracing the edge of her jacket before pulling it off, revealing the intricately laced black satin corset that hugged her figure with seductive precision. Designed to accentuate her curves without restricting movement, the corset fit snugly but wasn’t overly tight, allowing her to dance comfortably and effortlessly. The elegant design featured hidden hooks and eyes, blending seamlessly into the fabric to allow for easy and quick removal if desired. The lace detailing created a striking contrast to the powerful presence she commanded on stage.

As the spotlight shifted, Lisa turned her back to the audience, facing away from them as her hips swayed with each step. She walked toward the stripper pole, her movements fluid and deliberate, every motion dripping with confidence. The way her corset clung to her body made her ass stand out in a way that could only be described as captivating, each step she took amplifying the tantalizing effect of her outfit. With every stride, the tightness of the corset accentuated the curve of her waist, and the motion of her hips made her look even more enticing. As she reached the pole, she placed one hand around it, her fingers curling sensually around its cold metal surface. Slowly, teasingly, she began to circle the pole, her hips swaying rhythmically, a perfect blend of control and sensuality. The crowd was drawn to her every move, captivated by the tantalizing promise of what was to come.

The music swelled with a rhythmic pulse, and Lisa began her performance by leaning into the pole, her hand sliding slowly along its length. She started with simple, fluid movements, circling the pole with calculated grace. Her hips swayed hypnotically to the beat, each step purposeful and controlled, her stiletto heels clicking softly against the polished stage floor.

She teased the crowd with small spins, wrapping one long leg around the pole while her body pivoted effortlessly. Each spin was slow and deliberate, her hair cascading like silk as she tilted her head back, drawing in the audience’s fixed attention. She stayed close to the ground, emphasizing her sensuality without rushing into complex tricks just yet.

Lisa then transitioned to floorwork, kneeling gracefully, her hands gliding down the pole as she arched her back and rolled her hips. She rose back to her feet with a seamless elegance, her movements sultry yet restrained, leaving the crowd mesmerized by her confidence and presence. The first part of her routine was a masterclass in teasing; every gesture was a promise of something greater yet to come.

As the music built to a crescendo, Lisa moved into the more advanced phase of her performance. She climbed the pole with an effortless agility, her toned legs gripping tightly as she ascended, each movement exuding control and strength. Once near the top, she hooked a knee around the pole, arching her back and leaning backward into a breathtaking pose, her other leg extended gracefully. The crowd gasped as she spun slowly in this inverted position, her body like a sculpture of elegance and allure.

Sliding down the pole with practiced ease, Lisa stopped halfway, her body suspended with both legs wrapped firmly around the pole. She leaned her upper body forward, her hands lightly gripping the pole for balance, and then began a slow, mesmerizing undulation. With each thrust, she leaned in and out, her torso moving in a controlled, hypnotic rhythm. The movement was both sensual and powerful, a display of mastery that captivated the crowd. Her hips swayed slightly with each motion, her body undulating like a wave, perfectly synchronized with the music’s seductive beat.

Then, as if to take the crowd’s breath away, she let herself slide further down the pole, flipping upside-down with her legs spreading wide in a star-like formation. Her body perfectly aligned, the stage lights highlighted every curve, and the sheer athleticism of the move stunned the audience. With a slow, deliberate motion, she transitioned into a split hold, her legs extended horizontally while she gripped the pole with her thighs, spinning elegantly before lowering herself to the ground with unmatched finesse.

Lisa’s movements became increasingly daring and sensual as she danced. She intertwined graceful spins with moments where her body pressed teasingly against the pole, her expressions a mix of confidence and seduction. She ended the performance with a final dramatic move: climbing the pole one last time, spinning in a controlled descent until her feet touched the stage floor. With the last note of the music fading, Lisa stood tall, her piercing gaze scanning the audience as she struck a commanding pose, leaving them in awe of her beauty and skill.

A brief pause lingered, the air thick with anticipation as Lisa’s hands slid to the front of her corset. With a slow, deliberate motion, she unhooked the hidden fastenings, each movement tantalizingly precise. The structured garment loosened, and with a graceful shrug of her shoulders, she let it slide down her torso, revealing the delicate, shimmering tassel nipple pasties that now adorned her bare chest. The crowd erupted, the combination of admiration and exhilaration palpable as Lisa discarded the corset to the side, standing in nothing but her sheer black stockings, lace-trimmed high-waisted panties, and sky-high patent leather stiletto heels.

Freed from the constraints of the corset, Lisa's movements became even more fluid, her body effortlessly melting into the next phase of the performance. She dropped gracefully to the floor, her legs extending in sharp, mesmerizing motions that captivated every set of eyes in the room. A smooth transition led her into a seamless split, her thighs parting with ease as she faced the audience, arching her back just enough to emphasize every curve of her body. Her hands grazed the floor, her fingers tracing invisible patterns as she shifted, rolling onto her stomach with an effortless glide.

Now, with her back to the audience, Lisa lifted herself just enough to tilt her hips, offering them a perfect view of the sculpted curves that moved in perfect sync with the music. Her long legs sliced through the air as she pushed herself into another split, this time facing away, her ass arching as she lingered for a moment before sweeping her legs together and rolling into a sensuous backbend. Every motion was executed with the kind of precision and confidence that only Lisa could embody—controlled, deliberate, and undeniably hypnotic, given how little she was wearing.

She wasn’t in a hurry. Every motion was slow and deliberate, dripping with purpose. Each flick of her ankle, each flex of her thigh designed to send the crowd into a frenzy. As she lifted herself back onto her knees, one hand dragging slowly up her body, her gaze flickered up, locking onto the audience with a knowing smirk.

As her hand slid slowly up her body, her fingertips brushing against her skin with deliberate slowness, the anticipation in the room reached a fever pitch. Lisa’s eyes never left the crowd, her smirk widening just slightly as she felt the heat of their gaze. She was in control, and she knew it.

With a subtle shift, she pulled at the edges of her tassel nipple pasties, the delicate strands of ribbon catching the light as she gave it a teasing tug. The fabrics barely moved at first, but then with a fluid motion, she yanked them free, tossing them aside like a prize. The crowd gasped, the shockwave of her boldness vibrating through the room.

For just a moment, a heavy silence hung in the air, deafening and almost unreal. Then the cheers came, loud and wild, an uproar of adoration and disbelief. Lisa, with her breasts now fully exposed, only smirked wider, reveling in the power of the moment. She was unapologetically herself, and nothing could take away her command of the stage.

Naked from the waist up, Lisa stood there with her tits out for a brief moment, drinking in the crowd’s feverish energy as their cheers swelled. She could feel their eyes locked onto her, their collective desire turning her body into a living canvas for their hungry gazes.

Her hands moved like a symphony of seduction, tracing the curves of her body with the kind of smooth grace that made every inch of her skin seem like an invitation. She swept her fingers across her collarbone, teasingly brushing over her chest before sliding them down the smoothness of her stomach. Each movement was purposeful, calculated to draw out the tension, to make them beg for more without her ever saying a word.

As her hands glided over her body, she locked eyes with the audience, her smirk returning, full of knowing. She was in complete control, making sure they couldn’t look away. Her hips swayed, each motion measured and deliberate, designed to keep the attention on every inch of her. She pulled her hands up, sliding them over her breasts and her nipples in a slow, almost painful motion, before letting them drift lower, brushing the edge of her waist. She lingered there for a moment, letting the heat of the moment build, before allowing her hands to slide down to her thighs, pushing the boundaries of seduction further.

The crowd was buzzing with anticipation, but Lisa remained composed, her smirk never faltering as she turned away from them, giving them the perfect view of her sculpted back. She slowly backed up, moving towards the edge of the stage with the precision of a dancer who knew the power of every step and every motion. As she moved closer to the audience, the room seemed to hold its breath.

With a subtle shift in her posture, she reached down with one hand, her fingers delicately finding the hook on the side of her panties. The fabric was tight against her skin, the delicate lace trimming hugging her curves as her fingers toyed with the hook. The crowd watched in silence, their eyes fixated on the moment.

Lisa gave them one last look over her shoulder, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips, before she unhooked the panties with a slow, deliberate motion. The fabric began to loosen, teasingly falling down her legs as she bent forward, her body lowering into a perfect 90-degree angle. Her ass arched out towards the crowd, her movements fluid and controlled as the panties slowly slid down her legs, eventually falling at her feet as she exposed her glorious cunt for everyone to see.

The room erupted with cheers and applause, the crowd now in a frenzy of excitement. Lisa lifted her foot, kicking the panties aside as she stood back up, the cool air hitting her bare skin. She was now fully nude, save for the pair of stiletto heels and her sheer stockings that hugged her toned legs, the lace trim framing her shapely ass perfectly.

With the final seconds of her performance approaching, Lisa decided to go all the way. With her body still bent over, she stuck a hand between her legs and put two fingers on her pussy, using them to spread her labia open, giving the audience a clear view of her pink, glistening cunt. The crowd went crazy for Lisa's actions, no more than her three best friends in the front row. As if it couldn't get any better or hotter, Lisa then turned around and raised her hand to her mouth, sucking on her own fingers, her tongue swirling around them as she tasted her own arousal. The crowd was deafening by this point, cheering and whistling, their lust evident. It was clear that she had taken things to the next level, and they loved every second of it.

As the last few notes of the final song came to an end, Lisa took a deep bow to thank the crowd, then stood back up with a radiant smile, her naked body still on full display for the guests to see. The entire audience rose to their feet, erupting into applause for Lisa’s monumental performance. They chanted her name for several seconds, and Lisa continued thanking them, waving with gratitude until the lights dimmed and she made her exit.

Backstage, she was met by her manager, who immediately handed her a robe to cover her body. She thanked the staff members who congratulated her on a legendary performance at the Crazy Horse show. Just as she was about to step into her dressing room, her bandmates' excited voices rang out from a distance, calling her name as they rushed over to congratulate her on her number.

"Oh my god, Lisa. That was amazing!" Jisoo exclaimed, a wide smile stretching across her face.

"I can't believe you did that. You could’ve told your best friend you were gonna do that tonight." Rosé added, still stunned by Lisa's performance.

"Sorry...I didn’t want to spoil you, girls. I wanted to see the shock on your faces."

"It was so hot. I'm so wet right now. I even rubbed one out in the front row, not gonna lie." Jennie said, her cheeks flushed red, her voice dripping with lust.

"Damn, did I turn you on that much? Did I make you that horny?"

"Girl...I’m always horny."

"Yeah...horny for cocks." Lisa joked.

"Speaking of that...should we hit the club?" Rosé suggested.

"Of course. I wanna play cock roulette." Jennie added, referring to their favorite club game.

"Yeah, absolutely. I’m dying to get dicked right now. Let's have some drinks and some fun. Just let me get dressed. You guys wait in the car." Lisa said, saying goodbye to her friends before stepping into her dressing room.

Inside, she sat down for five minutes, just trying to take it all in, what had just gone down on stage. Phones weren’t allowed, so she shouldn’t have to worry about anything leaking online. She trusted everyone in attendance to keep quiet, to not run to the media.

And yet, that nagging thought crept in...what if?

What if someone had managed to sneak in a phone? What if a guest decided to open his mouth and tell the whole world what had happened during Lisa’s performance? The fact that she showed her entire body to everyone in attendance...her tits, her ass and her pussy out in full display for the lucky few deemed worthy enough to attend the Crazy Horse show that night.

If it ever came out, she’d have to deal with the fallout—the headlines, the public scrutiny, the endless speculation about why she had done it. There would be backlash, judgment, and maybe even consequences she couldn’t yet predict. But right now, she didn’t have time to dwell on that. Her friends were waiting for her, eager to hit the club, and she wasn’t about to waste the rest of the night worrying about something that might never happen. Tonight was about celebrating and letting loose.

Lisa made her way toward the vanity table, grabbing the champagne bottle. Tilting it over her glass, she sighed when nothing came out. Still wrapped in her robe, she cracked open the door, calling for a staff member.

"Excuse me. I’m out of champagne. Could you bring me a bottle, please?"

"Of course, madame. One moment." The young staff member hurried off.

He was a tall, young, white man with short curly brown hair, barely looking 20, his nervous energy palpable as Lisa asked for his help.

A few minutes later, he returned, knocking on her door. Lisa opened it, stepping aside to let him in. The young man stepped inside hesitantly, clutching the cold champagne bottle in his hands. His movements were careful, almost too precise, as he made his way toward Lisa’s vanity table. Placing the bottle down, he twisted the foil, peeled it away, and expertly popped the cork with a soft pop, the faintest hint of bubbles fizzing to the surface as he poured the golden liquid into her glass.

Lisa leaned against the table, watching him with amusement as he filled it nearly to the brim. She smirked, lifting the glass to her lips for a small sip before looking at him.

"Thank you." She said smoothly, letting her eyes linger on his face.

"You’re welcome, ma’am." He replied, keeping his gaze respectfully averted.

"No need to be so formal. You can call me Lisa." She said, letting out a soft chuckle.

The young garçon shifted on his feet, a nervous gulp escaping him as he tightened his grip on the bottle.

"Awwww...are you getting shy?" She teased, tilting her head as her smirk grew wider.

"Come on, tell me...did you watch the show?"

"Yes, I did." He said, hesitating for a few seconds before replying to the Blackpink's main dancer.

"And? Did you enjoy it?"

"Y...yes...it was incredible." He admitted, clearly struggling to keep his composure around the Thai superstar.

Lisa stepped closer to him, her robe parting ever so slightly as she moved.

"Tell me...what was your favorite part?" She asked, her voice dripping with playful curiosity as she reached up, adjusting the knot of his bow tie with delicate fingers. She took her time, straightening it with slow, deliberate movements before smoothing out the fabric. Her touch lingered as she gave his chest a light pat, then let her palm rest against him, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath her fingertips.

"I, uh...I don’t know if I should say..."

Lisa let out a soft, sultry laugh, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. The young man cleared his throat, stepping backward towards the door.

"I should go..." He said quickly, reaching for the handle, but before he could twist it open, Lisa’s voice stopped him.

"Leaving so soon? I was thinking we could have some fun together." Lisa said, taking another step forward, her robe slipping slightly off one shoulder.

"You know, performing on that stage got me so wet...I could really use your help right now, boy." Lisa said, as she pinned the guy to the door before she put her hand on his crotch, feeling his already hardening cock.

"Ohhh...seems like someone is having some fun already. Are you getting horny, boy? Do you like the sound of my voice? Does it turn you on?" Lisa whispered into his ear, her breath hot against his neck as she continued stroking his cock through his pants.

"I...yes." He moaned, unable to hide the effect Lisa had on him.

"I'm so fucking horny right now. Are you going to be a good little boy and do what I tell you to do?"

"Y...yes, Lisa."

"Good boy." She said, taking a step back and letting the robe slide down her body, exposing her naked, sweaty body.

The garçon stared at her nude body, his eyes wide as his gaze traveled down the length of her torso, lingering on her smooth, toned stomach. She looked like a goddess, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, her chest rising and falling with each breath. He couldn't help but admire her perfectly shaped breasts, the way they bounced slightly with every movement.

Lisa slowly turned around, giving him a perfect view of her ass and pussy. She was shaved completely bare, her lips slightly parted, her pink slit glistening with her arousal. Lisa looked back over her shoulder, her expression playful, almost teasing.

"Come on, boy. I don't have all day. Get down on your knees and eat me."

The guy complied immediately, dropping to his knees and pressing his face against her ass, his tongue flicking out to lick her juices. He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he lapped at her folds with slow and deliberate movements, savoring every drop of her arousal.

"That's it. Keep licking."

"I love having young studs between my legs, eating me out." She said, putting her arm behind her back and grabbing the back of his head, pushing his face deeper into her ass and pussy.

The garçon groaned, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants as he continued lapping at her folds. Lisa's eyes rolled back, a low moan escaping her lips as he slid his tongue into her opening, his nose pressing against her clit. Her thighs trembled, the sensation of his warm tongue inside her sending waves of pleasure through her body. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, the vibrations of his moans echoing against her core.

"You like how my pussy tastes, boy?"

"Mmmm...yes, Lisa. You taste so fucking good."

"I bet this is the best day of your life, isn't it? Seeing me naked...eating me...about to fuck the living shit out of me..."

"You know...I've been wanting a nice cock inside my pussy all night long." Lisa said, as the guy continued to lick and lap at her pussy, his tongue darting in and out of her slick opening. Lisa's grip tightened, her fingers tangled in his hair, as he began to suck and slurp at her wetness, the sounds echoing throughout the room. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed him inside her.

"Fuck, I need a cock. I need your cock inside me right now!!!" She moaned, reaching back and pulled his face deeper into her pussy, grinding her hips against him.

"Get your cock out and fuck me, please." She begged, her voice filled with desperation as she pulled him away from her pussy, before turning around and sinking to her knees.

The garçon nodded, his hands trembling as he unzipped his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His throbbing erection sprang free, hitting Lisa right in the face.

Lisa looked up at him, her lips curved in a sexy smile as she took his cock in her hands, stroking him with slow, steady motions.

"Mmmm...such a big, fat cock, I'm surprised. I can't wait to have it inside me."

The Thai starlet spat on it and kept jerking it for several seconds, making sure his cock was nice and ready for her. As Lisa was giving him a very quick but sloppy handjob, he used this opportunity to take off the rest of his clothes, and once he was done, she stood up, turned around, and made her way towards her table, putting her right leg on top of it and presenting her pussy to him.

"C'mon, French guy. What are you waiting for? I don't have all night."

He immediately walked towards her, his cock achingly hard and pointing upwards, the tip glistening with precum. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close, his shaft pressing against her folds. She arched her back, her ass sticking out, inviting him to thrust his dick deep inside her.

"Do your worst. Fuck me as hard as you can and ruin me!"

Without wasting another second, he slid into her, his thickness stretching Lisa's inner walls, filling her completely. She let out a loud moan, her eyes rolling back as he started to thrust in and out of her, his movements fast and frantic.

"Fuck...yes...that's it...fuck me harder!" She screamed, her voice dripping with lust as she slightly pushed her ass back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal force.

The garçon groaned, his balls slapping against her ass with each stroke, his grip on her hips tightening. He fucked her like an animal, his cock pounding her pussy relentlessly, the sounds of their flesh slapping against each other filling the air.

"Yeah...you like that? You like how my pussy feels around your big fat cock?"

"Fuckkk yes, I love it! Your pussy feels amazing, Lisa!" He growled, his voice filled with pure desire as he continued to ram his cock deep into her.

Lisa looked at herself in the mirror, watching her reflection as the guy rammed his cock into her from behind, his eyes glued to her ass. Her tits bounced with every stroke, her hair sticking to her sweat-soaked body. She loved the feeling of being fucked from behind, especially by a big, fat cock like the one currently pumping in and out of her pussy.

As for him, his lust for Lisa grew with every thrust, and the longer he kept fucking her, the greedier he got.

"Can I...can I fuck your ass?"

"Fuck...I don't have much time...tell you what...make me cum and I will let you fuck my ass, deal?"

He nodded, a grin stretching across his face. In pure desperation of wanting to make the Blackpink slut cum so that he could have a go at her ass, he started pumping his hips like crazy, slamming his cock in and out of her cunt, making Lisa moan like a bitch in heat in the process. The French stud was fucking her so fast, that it was hard for Lisa to keep her leg still on the table, and it was making her involuntary kick small items that were on top of the table towards the floor every time he went for a deeper thrust.

She tried to grab onto something for dear life, putting her hands on the vanity table, but that also resulted in her knocking down items off of the table, including the champagne bottle. It broke as it fell to the floor, its contents spilling everywhere, the sound echoing through the room.

"Fuuuuccckkkk...your cock is filling me up so gooood..."

"Oh...shit...sorry." He said, apologizing for making Lisa break the champagne bottle.

"Don't apologize, boy. Shut the fuck up and keep fucking me. I'm about to cum." Lisa demanded, as she reached her arm out, her fingers curling around the edge of the mirror.

Lisa was getting close. Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth hanging open, her breaths coming in short gasps. She could feel her orgasm building, her body trembling as his cock hit all the right spots.

"Talk dirty to me. It turns me on so much!"

"Are you sure, Lisa?"

"Yes!!! Degrade me!"

Degrading women wasn't really his thing, but he was never one to refuse an order, especially not from the one and only Lisa Manoban.

"I watched the show from backstage...you know what I really thought?"

"Noooooo, please tell me, fuckkkk..." She moaned, every thrust bringing her closer to the edge.

"I thought you were a fucking slut, showing off your tits, ass and pussy to everyone. Such a dirty fucking slut."

"That's me!!!...I'm a dirty, shameless, filthy fucking slut." Lisa repeated, her voice quivering.

"All I wanted to do whilst watching you was run upon that stage and start fucking you in front of every guest."

"Why didn't you do that then? Fuckkkk. You have no idea how badly I wanted to have sex on that stage. To get fucked like a cumslut in front of everyone."

"You are lucky that there were no cameras, Lisa. We should've livestreamed the whole event, so that the whole world would find out just how much of a slut you really are!"

The more he kept degrading her whilst fucking her, the more turned on Lisa got, her arousal soaking her thighs, coating her pussy and his balls. Lisa couldn't help herself and started rubbing her clit as his pace increased. His strokes grew harder and faster each time his cock drilled Lisa's tight, wet pussy.

"Don't stop! Please...keep fucking me, boy! I want your cum inside me." She begged, her pussy squeezing his shaft, her body begging for release. The Frenchman fondled her right tit with his hand, as he fucked her mercilessly, the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other filling the room.

He wanted to have a go at her ass, but with Lisa's shameless self-degrading comments, he was unable to resist any longer, and neither could Lisa, as their orgasms fell upon them pretty much in unison.

"Fuck...here it comes!"

"Yes, give it to me. Fill me up with your hot, creamy load."

With one final hard thrust, he buried his cock deep inside her, his hips bucking wildly and his body spasming as he shot his load, coating her inner walls with his seed. Lisa's body tensed up, her pussy clenching around his cock, milking every drop of his cum, her eyes rolling back, a low drawn-out moan escaping her lips as she came.

She rested her forehead against the table, panting, trying to catch her breath, her heart racing. She could feel his hot, sticky cum trickling down her thighs, his cock still buried inside her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Wow...that was amazing." He said.

"Yeah? Did you enjoy having your way with an idol?

"Absolutely."

"Great. Lets get this cock nice and clean before it goes inside my ass."

Lisa swiftly dropped to her knees and grabbed his cum-covered cock. She used her tongue to lick his cock clean, swallowing the mixture of her juices and his cum.

"That's a good girl. Get my cock nice and hard so that I can destroy that ass." He said, looking down at the beautiful Blackpink slut licking his cock clean, his shaft already beginning to grow again.

Lisa couldn't help but giggle. She was proud of her work on him in such a short amount of time. Ten minutes ago, he was nothing more than a shy, young Frenchman. Now, he had all the confidence in the world, all thanks to Lisa's self-degrading remarks.

"Your cock tastes so good in my mouth." She said, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue before slapping herself with his hard shaft.

By this point, his cock was more than ready for her asshole, but Lisa just simply couldn't take her mouth from it. She kept her lips around his length and rapidly slurped on his dick like there was no tomorrow. Lisa bobbed her head up and down, sucking him off like a complete whore.

"Holy shit...you are so good at this." He said, placing his hand on the back of her head, pushing her head further down on his length.

"Yeah, you think so? I love sucking dick so much. Especially fat ones like yours."

"You are so fucking slutty."

"I know. Now, I want you to fuck my face." She demanded, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes, her hands firmly holding the base of his cock.

He obliged, grabbing the back of her head and thrusting his cock deep into her mouth. Lisa gagged slightly, her saliva pooling around his shaft as she took him deeper and deeper, the tip of his dick hitting the back of her throat. She looked so fucking sexy, naked on her knees, her lips stretched around his shaft with her mouth filled with cock.

"Fuckkkkkk...this is incredible. I can't believe you are letting me do this to you." He moaned, his cock pulsating in her mouth as she sucked him harder.

Lisa continued to blow him eagerly, her lips gliding over his thick length, tongue swirling as she kept slobbering all over his thick shaft. Sloppy, desperate sounds filled the room as she took him deep, hands stroking in rhythm with every bob of her head. The garçon could hardly believe his luck.

She loved feeling his hard cock move past her lips and hit the back of her throat, her jaw aching as he thrust deeper into her mouth. Saliva kept dribbling down her chin as he continued to fuck her face, his balls slapping against her chin with every thrust.

"Take that dick all the way down. Your throat feels so fucking good around my cock."

Lisa knew she could make him stop with just a snap of her fingers. She was in control, but she was beyond horny, and she loved giving up her power, allowing others to use her however they pleased, and this situation was no different.

The garçon was enjoying every second of his time with Lisa and her warm throat, but also knew if he kept this up, he was going to end up blowing his load without being able to have a go at her ass, so, after a couple more thrusts he pulled his cock out of her mouth, Lisa's spit still connecting his dick and her mouth together.

"Are you going to put that fat cock in my ass now, boy?"

"Absolutely." He said, grabbing a chair that was nearby and placing it in front of the vanity table, giving her something to hold on to once he started fucking her.

Lisa smirked as she got up and bent over, putting her hands on each side of the chair. She looked over her shoulder to see the Frenchman standing behind her, his cock glistening with her saliva, throbbing and ready to penetrate her.

"Go on, give me what I want. Give me that fat dick." She said, licking her lips, her ass sticking out, inviting him in.

He moved closer, placing the tip of his cock at the entrance of her asshole, teasing her slightly. Lisa let out a soft whimper, her body trembling with anticipation.

"Please, just do it. I need your cock in my ass." She begged.

He didn't waste much more time and pushed himself inside, the tight ring of muscle stretching to accommodate his size. Lisa bit her lower lip, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the chair tighter. The feeling of his cock filling her ass was almost too much for her.

"Hmmm, fuck...you have no idea how much I love having big dicks in my ass."

"Fuck me. Don't hold back, boy."

Lisa's moans were music to his ears, and it only encouraged him to give her even more of his cock. The guy began pounding her tight ass, firmly holding her hips as he buried his length deep inside her. Lisa gasped, her eyes rolling back as she felt his dick fill her, stretching her wide open.

"Yes! That's it, keep fucking my ass. Fuckkkk...I love how your cock feels inside me."

"Holy shit, your ass feels so good around my dick. You like having your ass destroyed?"

"Fuck yes! Keep fucking my slutty little asshole."

Sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air as he continued to fuck her, his balls swinging wildly with each thrust. Lisa arched her back and began pushing her ass against him, meeting his thrusts to take his big cock deeper. She was in absolute bliss, the feeling of his thick cock pounding her ass was indescribable. Lisa could feel his warm breath against her skin as the young stud leaned down to kiss her neck, his hands sliding up her body, cupping her tits.

"Keep going, don't stop. I want it harder, please fuck me harder..." She pleaded, her body trembling with pleasure, the sensation of his cock inside her making her feel like she was in heaven.

"Such a good little slut for my cock, aren't you? I bet you didn't even want to perform tonight. You just wanted everyone to see you naked, didn't you?"

"Yes...I love being fucked like a slut and be degraded like a common whore."

Lisa's comments made him groan, and he began slamming his hips into her ass with much more force than before, the sound echoing through the room. Lisa's entire body rocked back and forth, her tits swaying with each thrust as she held onto the chair for dear life.

"Use me like a fuckdoll and give me your cum." She said, reaching her clit with her hand before she began rubbing it as he continued to pound her.

The garçon's thrusts became more erratic, his breathing becoming heavier as he fucked her harder, his balls slapping against her clit. Lisa moaned louder, her voice dripping with pure lust as she kept rubbing her clit, bringing herself closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuckkkkkk...I'm going to cum, boy."

"Cum for me. Cum while I fuck your asshole, Lisa." He demanded, his cock pounding her ass relentlessly as he grabbed her hair and pulled it. Lisa's mouth hanged open as she came, her pussy spasming, coating his balls with her juices. Her body shook violently and her vision became blurry as her orgasm washed over her, with her ass clenching around his cock.

"Lisa, I'm gonna cum too. Where do you want it?"

"Mouth...I want you to dump that load inside my throat." She quickly said, pulling herself off his cock and turning around before she squatted.

The Thai slut didn't waste a single second and began rapidly jerking his cock with both of her hands in a corkscrew motion with the tip past her lips. Her tongue swirled around the head, constantly flickering his piss slit as her hands stroked his cock, occasionally moving down to cup his balls and massage them gently.

It didn't take long before the guy let out a loud groan and Lisa felt his cock begging to throb in her hands and her mouth, and not a moment later, his seed started erupting inside her mouth. Lisa felt multiple ropes hitting the back of her throat, but instead of swallowing it, she tried to hold as much cum as she could in her mouth.

Thankfully for her, it was his second load, so the amount of cum he deposited inside Blackpink's superstar was nowhere near the amount he had dumped inside Lisa's pussy a few minutes ago, but that still didn't stop her mouth from being full and for a small amount of cum to spill from the corners of her mouth.

Once she felt like he was done, Lisa slowly slid his cock out of her mouth and opened it, showing him the load he had given her.

"Fucking slut. Swallow my load like the good little cumdumpster that you are."

Lisa obliged, swallowing every single drop of his thick cum in one go, her throat convulsing as she gulped him down. It was a lot for her to handle, but she managed to take it all in, and she savored the taste, swallowing his cum until her mouth was empty.

"So much cum for me, I love it." Lisa said, before putting her lips back on his big cock to milk him dry out of every last drop.

She slowly bobbed her head up and down on his leaking shaft before releasing it with a pop and licking her lips clean, a smile on her face.

"That was amazing. Thank you so much for your cock and your cum. Now go. Leave my dressing room, I got places to be."

"Yes, Lisa." He said, picking up his clothes and quickly putting them back on before leaving her dressing room.

As for Lisa, she stayed naked on her knees, looking at her reflection in the mirror, admiring her naked body. After a while, she got up and picked up a towel, to clean herself from all the sweat and cum. Once she was done, she put on clean underwear and a nice dress, before heading out and making her way towards the car, where her bandmates were waiting.

"Lisa, what the fuck took you so long?" Jennie said, clearly annoyed.

"Yeah girl, it's been almost 30 minutes..." Rosé added.

"Sorry, girls. I had to take some time to relax."

"Relax? You look more exhausted than before." Jisoo pointed out.

"Just...just drive already."

"Yeah, lets get out of here. Lets go to the club!!!!!" Rosé shouted.

"Can't wait to get fucked so hard." Jennie said.

"That is, if you win cock roulette." Jisoo said.

"Girl, I always win cock roulette. Tonight will be no different."

"Don't start celebrating just yet, Jennie. If anyone is winning that tonight, it's me. I'm so horny right now, that I'm ready to go all the way." Rosé said, as she placed her hand on her crotch and began rubbing herself through her panties.

"We'll see about that." Jennie responded as the girls drove away and made their way to the club, to what would undoubtedly be another unforgettable night for the four Blackpink sluts.

#lisa smut #blackpink smut #lisa manoban #blackpink #blackpink lisa #kpop #kpop smut

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dwaekkicidal · 5 months ago

Text

Sharing is Caring [3.5: ChanLix]

˚ʚBang Chan x Lee Felixɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Chris comes home to a seemingly empty dorm, ready to relax and relieve the stress from the day away. Though... he really didn't expect to relieve it like this.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 5.6k (don't look at me.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: member x member content: dont like dont interact <3 (you can also block the #mxm tag), lots of yapping (if you cant already tell by the word count), mentions of poly relationships (specifically skz x female and felix x han), dom!channie and sub-slightly bratty lix hehe, brat taming, slightly meandom chris?, brief mention of chris having a solo-jerking off session, lots of jerking off, multiple rounds, overstimulation, unprotected sex, slight dubcon? (felix says wait a few times but he doesn’t really mean it), i thiiiink thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: this took waaaaay too long for me to get out LMFAO but i finally got it done!!! small update on this series: i think im going to make an ot8 x reader (with a mxm sub chapter lol) and then close out this series >.< i wanna keep writing for it but i just have a jumbled mess of mxm ideas so i think i finish with ot8 and decide later on what to do

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The events of that first Friday night had haunted Chris. But not in a bad way. It was more so that he hadn’t expected any of his members to… explore each other in that way. Even after they all had agreed to the polyamorous relationship, he didn’t expect anybody to make moves on each other. Let alone the fact that they had done it prior to the main relationships starting.

Though, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made that it was the sunshine twins out of everyone. They got along great, both in public and in the comfort of privacy, and he could recall certain times where rather suspicious looks between the two were exchanged before they disappeared not to be heard from for an hour.

And he sure as hell can’t deny how hard he gets at the imagery of what these encounters would look like between the two. Especially not when his jeans manage to get tighter and tighter as the seconds pass and more visions flood in about the smallest two of the group.

But all of this comes to a halt as he takes the final step to be in front of his door. He blinks a few times, not realizing that he had indeed gone up the elevator and walked through the hallway to get to his dorm amidst all his daydreaming. He sighs loudly and digs for his keys in his pocket

Aside from those dirty thoughts lingering, it was eerily quiet as he walks through the hallways of the dorm. He simply assumed that Hyunjin had taken their girlfriend and left the dorm, so he didn’t bother to check the younger’s room. Instead, he just beelined it for his bedroom and closed the door as fast as possible.

He all but tossed his bags on the floor and threw himself onto his bed, exhausted after the hours and hours he had spent in the studio fighting with countless tracks that he just couldn’t seem to get right. He laid there like a pile of bones until he eventually pushed off the bed and forced his way to his dresser. A small pile of clothes is picked out and his robe is grabbed before he mozeyd his way to his shower.

The water is much colder than usual. It’s just barely tolerable but he hopes that it will break down his nasty thoughts, so he sits under the water for much longer than he usually would have. The water trickles down his toned back and he takes a few deep breaths as the last few hours replay in his head.

Han and Changbin had sent him home early, they could tell something was on his mind and he was more distracted than usual. He’d never admit that it was thanks to the youngest in the room, so he kept quiet and just brushed it off. But after a few hours of working and the two other producers trying to get him to talk about it, and failing, they told him to just go home and relax.

They promised to take care of everything as long as he went home and de-stressed. “Maybe even ask Bunny for help.” He sighs as Changbin’s words replay in his mind. It wasn’t a bad idea… A very specific type of release sounded pretty good right about now but considering she wasn’t around, he was at a standstill.

Either he takes care of himself and prays that it’s enough to satisfy him, or he waits however long he has to for his girlfriend to return home and ask her to help him out. And he decided on the latter. Though, part of him hoped the thoughts would go away naturally during the cold shower.

But once the water becomes unbearable and he’s still plagued with the same images from earlier, he grows even more frustrated. He subconsciously rolls his eyes and groans as he shuts the water off, forcing himself out of the shower. He doesn’t bother tying the robe, he just slides his arms through the sleeves and wears it wide open as he walks over to his bed and plops down onto it.

Welp. Plan B.

Some minutes later, his cock aches as he jerks himself off with nothing but thoughts of a certain blonde boy on his knees below him. As if it’s actually happening, his legs spread wider and his hips buck up into his hand. His whole body shivers as his thumb runs through his slit, some of the precum spreading around his tip and making his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

Chan feels like he has no control of his body as he throws his head back and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. He finally allows himself to make a noise- a quiet whine escaping his throat as his stomach clenches, his orgasm right on its cusp.

Then, a sudden, loud knock on his bedroom door makes him jump out of his skin, and his head spins as his hand flies away from his cock, his orgasm already fading away. He wasn’t expecting any visitors and, as far as he was aware, the dorm was completely empty aside from him.

He wholeheartedly thought about ignoring it, hoping that the unknown person would just leave. But then, an all too familiar deep voice calls out to him from the other side of the door, making his arm hairs stick up. “Channie-hyung, are you there? You wanted to talk?”

His eye and his dick twitches and he stares at the door in awe, jaw dropped on the floor. Speak of the devil. He immediately covers himself with the robe, tying it half-assed and rushing to call out to the boy. “Y-Yeah! Come in.”

The door knob turns and Chris almost moans at the sight of Felix clad in a tank top and shorts. Even the slightest semblance of skin would send him spiraling but seeing so much of it, and seeing the outline of his entire torso through this tight shirt makes his dick twitch against his robe.

“Earth to Chris~ Hello?”

“Ah! Sorry, mate..” He clears his throat and tears his eyes away from the younger’s chest. “What’s up?”

Felix’s face starts to burn red and he smiles knowingly, but he bites his laugh back and repeats his sentence with a more teasing tone. “A little birdy said that you wanted to talk to me about something~”

Chris blinks a few times, staying quiet as he rummages through his foggy brain for an explanation. “Ah! Right- Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck and saunters over to take a seat directly next to him, shivering when Felix leans in and their thighs touch.

“Uh…” Chan rakes his mind as he tries to find the right words, but they don’t come. So he opts to simply explain himself and then hopefully find the right wording. “So. First things first- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable so if this crosses a line, we won't speak about it ever again.” Felix’s eyebrow twitches up in curiosity and he nods slowly.

“So… Han told me about the two of you.” Felix chuckles and mumbles out a quiet, teasing ‘Yeah?’ that makes Chris’ head spin. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold himself back from moaning as Felix’s voice meets his ears again. “Actually… Han and I spoke the night you three hooked up with our angel, so I know that he told you.”

Felix smiles at the wide eyes he gets in response, but he continues nonetheless. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact-” He leans forward even more, placing a hand on Chris’ thigh and smirking to himself when the older man whimpers, barely audible. “In fact, I think it’s pretty hot.”

He leans forward all the way and lays his cheek on Chris’ shoulder, hand sneaking up his thigh more and more. His breath is hot on the older’s neck and Chris has to physically bite back yet another moan. He can't, however, bite back the strong twitch from the prominent bulge in his robe.

Felix smiles to himself and tests the limits further, ghosting his hand along Chan’s bulge before walking his fingers up his torso. “We’ve spoken about it before, you know?” Chan’s breath gets caught in his throat but he hums in acknowledgement, signaling Felix to continue. “He told me how big and pretty your dick was. And how submissive you made him feel~. ‘Said you were a real good Daddy.”

This time a moan breaks through and falls past Chris’ lips in a low tone, his legs twitching and arms shaking as he leans back onto them and gives Felix more space to work with. “Shit- Really?” It comes out desperate and deep, to the point where it riles up Felix in all the right ways.

“Mhm. Made me want a go.” Chan’s eyes snap open and he turns his head to meet the younger’s gaze. Their faces are inches apart and he can feel his composure fading away with each second. “Y-You- Yeah?”

Felix doesn’t bother holding back the breathy laugh that comes out. He just nods with his cheek curling up in a smirk. His hand is on Chris’ collarbone at this point and he traces small circles into the sweaty skin there.

The air is heavy as silence fills the room, but Felix doesn’t seem bothered by it. He has a small smile on his face as he continues to tease Chan’s neck with his finger tips. This goes on for a few more seconds as the eldest takes many deep breaths, doing everything in his power to calm his racing heart down. After he finally calms himself down, he finds it in himself to hype himself up.

“So… you want me as bad as I want you?” Felix’s ears start turning red as he nods slowly, lips still pulled up in a smile. Chris only bites his lip, racking his brain for the smallest amount of confidence so he can take control of the situation. The continued silence from the younger man gives him an idea and he finally makes a move, settling his hand on Felix’s cheek to start. His thumb strokes the freckles there and he can feel his confidence grow when the younger melts into his touch.

“Mmmm… And if Han told you about what happened that night, then I would have hoped he told you that I don’t like brats.” Felix’s smirk finally falters and he nods at the older, eyes glossy as they look up at him. Chris sighs and his hand trails down to Felix’s neck where he squeezes it experimentally. “Then… You should know better than to not use your words. Right?” Felix exhales deeply and nods again before catching himself.

“Yes… Sorry.”

Chris’ chest swells with the confidence that he needed and he squeezes his hand again, watching as Felix’s eyes flutter closed. “What is all this for, then? You’re trying to slut yourself out to me?” Felix shivers and doesn’t answer right away, making Chris squeeze his hand tighter and wait until their eyes meet again to loosen the hold. “Huh?”

“Yes, I-” He takes a deep breath, “I want you to play with me- like you did with Hannie.” The second the confirmation left his mouth, Chris wastes no time and shoves his lips against Felix’s. The hand around his neck stays there almost possessively as their tongues breach each other’s mouths. They moan into the kiss as Felix’s hands move to Chan’s biceps. He’s gotten so big recently, and Felix couldn't lie about how hot and bothered it got him.

The information would have to pried from their cold, dead hands, but neither Han nor Felix could deny that they both got off on just how muscular their members have become recently. Even when they would “have fun” with just each other, they tended to bring up one of their members and their sexy bodies.

It’s not until their lungs burn that they pull away from each other. But even then, Chris is already so pent up from weeks of fantasizing, and that mixed with his orgasm getting denied just minutes prior leads to needy impatience. So he, again, wastes no time. He pushes Felix onto the bed by his shoulder and crawls on top of him, sinking his hands and his knees into his mattress as he hovers over him.

His knee pushes up against Felix’s cock through his shorts and his thick lips latch onto Felix’s neck, making the boy moan louder than he expected himself to. He goes to react and cover his mouth with the back of his hand, but Chris reacts faster. He reaches up to capture both of Felix’s small wrists in one of his hands and pins them above his head.

“What happened to wanting to play like Hannie? You know, he was really well behaved then.” Felix whines at first at the gruffness in Chan’s voice, but eventually laughs through it once he realizes what he said. “Mmm… I hate to be the one to tell you, but Hannie and I aren’t exactly well behaved in bed. Even to each other. You just got lucky.”

Chan’s hands falter and Felix laughs out loud when he hears the quiet “More brats? Are you fucking kidding me…” Chris sighs loudly and rubs circles into Felix’s hip as can already feel the future headaches coming on. But, obviously, now is not the time for that. Especially not when he has one of said brats at his disposal, with their consent to play.

“You’re really gonna make me fight for this? Don’t even wanna try being my good boy?” Felix’s eyes shimmer at the pet name and he quickly finds himself in a dilemma. “You’ve been on my mind all fucking week. If you seriously can’t find it in you to be good, I’m not going to hold back when I fuck you like a whore.” Felix shivers and his leg kicks up as Chan’s knee pushes against him harder.

Their lips lock and Chris’ hands move to trail up and down his body, from ghosting over his chest to sliding up under his shirt just to rake his dull nails down Felix’s stomach. Then they drop lower and tug Felix’s shorts down just enough so that his V-line is on display. As he tugs the shorts down, he kisses down Felix’s throat, making a pit stop there to leave dark hickeys into his skin.

Felix’s hips buck up and Chris indulges him by running his hands on his hips, squeezing them in appreciation before swinging around to knead his ass, spreading him through his shorts just to push them back together.

“Pretty thing. You really gonna let me play with you?” Felix nods eagerly and whimpers when Chris yanks his shirt over his head and then kisses down his chest.

“H-Hyung..” Chris only smiles in response. He bites his lip and looks Felix up and down once more, ghosting his hands over the younger boy’s hip bone.

“Hmmm?”

“Please take them off! I need you so bad.” Chris isn’t one to tolerate being bossed around, but he did ask nicely with a cute little comment at the end, so he lets it slide this time. He tugs Felix’s shorts down to his ankles as he nibbles on his hip. When he pulls away, his eyes widen at the sight of Felix being completely bare now- his pretty cock twitching just inches from his face.

“Felix… Where is your underwear, baby.” Felix’s face flushes and he smiles sideways.

“We played a little before you got home. Hyunjin and I made her squirt like two hours ago.” Chan’s eyebrow cocks and he slowly nods with a smirk.

“Good job…” Chris mutters under his breath. He kisses Felix’s waist and squeezes his hips, humming against his skin as he appreciates the younger’s smaller form. “Can’t wait to fuck this pretty little ass.~”

Chris reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a small bottle of lube, spurting some onto his fingers before poking at Felix’s puckering hole. He slides a finger in all too easily, and for a moment the thought of somebody other than Han getting Felix’s ass before him. He frowns at the thought, jealousy filling his veins, and he shoves that finger in to the knuckle suddenly, almost as a punishment for Felix.

The younger moans high-pitched and keens, his back arching off the bed. Chris smiles and nibbles at Felix’s stomach, leaving hickies all along his v-line. Felix already feels so full by the time Chris adds his second finger, then even more when a third gets added- stretching Felix out more than his small fingers ever had. Or Han’s finger’s for that matter.

He revels in the stretch for some time, rolling his hips back and forth onto the knobby fingers that dig into his walls. As he’s doing this, Chris sneaks his other hand from palming his cock through his robe in favor of wrapping around Felix’s base, squeezing it softly before starting to stroke him slowly.

“Was it just Han?” He gives Felix time to answer, understanding that it can be overwhelming, but when the boy stays quiet he curls his fingers roughly, digging perfectly into Felix’s prostate and making him cry out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“I asked you a question, Lix.” Chan’s fingers speed up as his other hand focuses on tight, long strokes, causing Felix’s eyes to flutter shut as he moans and clenches around the fingers inside of him.

“Y-Yes just him! I swear! I haven’t- ah! I haven’t talked to any of the others about it yet.” Chan’s eyebrows perk up and he smirks, “‘Yet’?” He laughs and pulls his fingers out, manhandling the younger boy to flip over and lay on his stomach instead.

He’s in the process of sliding his robe off when Felix starts to wiggle around too much for Chan’s liking, so he tsks and sends his palm onto the flesh of Felix’s ass. The younger yelps and halts his movements, allowing Chris to take hold of his wrists and pin them to his lower back.

Chris whistles and massages the reddening flesh of Felix’s ass, admiring just how red it got from one small spank. His tongue poked the side of lip as he grew distracted with thoughts of making them even more red, but was brought back down to earth by the whines coming from below him.

He shushes Felix and tightens the grip on his wrists. Then he moves his hand down to pump himself a few times, even putting a show onto circle his tip around Felix’s rim, much to the younger’s dismay.

“M-Man… Chris hurry the hell u-” He’s interrupted by a yelp caused by the much harsher slap to the same ass cheek as before. Chris huffs and his hand comes down on Felix’s other ass cheek, making the boy twitch with a whimper.

“Lose the ‘tude.” Chris finally pushes in, moving his hands to hold onto Felix’s hip in order to lift his ass up higher, making him rest on his knees instead of being flat on his stomach. Once he’s nearly bottomed out all the way, he gives Felix some time to get used to the feeling of being full and slithers that same hand down his stomach so he can wrap his hand around Felix’s dick.

“Oh my g-od… ‘So big-” His veiny hand pumps slowly, making the younger moan and clench harder around him, and making himself groan in response. “H-Hyung.. Please move. I-I can’t-” Chris hushes him, placing a kiss on his shoulder as he starts to move slowly. Felix shakes and arches his back, he’s still sensitive from the orgasm he had earlier and he can’t help but clench even harder at feeling so much fuller than he’s used to.

“F-Fuck.. You’re so tight Lix. You gotta relax, baby.”

Felix shivers and tightens his hands in the sheets as Chris squeezes his hips and thrusts his hips upwards experimentally. When Felix moans and arches his back, Chris moves to rest on his forearms near the younger boy’s head, nails digging into the sheets as his hips gradually grow rougher and rougher. He moves cautiously though, eyes locked onto Felix’s as the younger shakes beneath him.

Every time Chris bottoms out, Felix’s voice cracks in a moan. His small hands release the sheets in favor of digging his nails into Chris’ forearm. “Channie!” Chan responds by slamming his hips against Felix’s, bottoming out in one fell swoop. “Use your words, baby. Be a big boy and tell me what you want.”

“I need it faster Hyung- Please-” Chris fixes his posture and uses the grip on Felix’s hips to pull him backward. Then he slams his hips forward and pulls Felix back onto him at the same time, making the man below him silently scream. He repeats this action, harshly fucking into Felix and pulling him back onto him with each thrust.

Felix is drooling onto the sheets at this point, and Chris can feel his sanity slipping from him as he relishes in the feeling of Felix’s heat around his cock. Chris’ jaw drops and he breathes heavily as Felix’s ass milks him dry, his own cock twitching as it drips cum onto Chris’ sheets.

They stay there for a moment, catching their breaths and calming down from their orgasms. Chris is the first to recover, pulling out of Felix slowly as if to tease him further. Felix shivers and swats his hand back at Chris with a whine. The older man laughs and holds him still until he’s finally out all the way, then his hands on Felix’s hips move to his ass cheeks, spreading him open and allowing him to watch his cum drip out of Felix’s gaping hole.

Felix’s head is still spinning, so he can’t bring himself to complain at Chris’ heavy gaze. He barely notices when he’s pulled to his feet, the only thing ground him being Chris’ thick lips pushing against his. It’s a short, sweet kiss. Just one that Chris used to make sure Felix was ok.

Once he’s sure, he leads Felix to his bathroom and digs in the cabinets for a washcloth to clean the younger man with. When he finds one and turns back around, his cock twitches back to life at the sight of Felix studying the hickeys and little red marks- soon to be bruises- on his hips. With a smile on his face.

Chris feels his cock twitch at the sight and he finds himself slowly stalking towards the bathroom mirror where he settles himself behind Felix, his arms wrapping around the younger's waist. Felix’s smile doesn’t falter as they make eye contact and Chris acts before he thinks, grinding his hips against Felix’s ass as his lips latch onto the boy’s shoulder.

Felix’s eyes widen and he laughs in disbelief, “You’re hard again??” Chris giggles against his skin and bites down, angling his hips to push his cock between Felix’s ass cheeks. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’ve been on my mind all week. ‘Been dreaming about fucking your brains out.”

One of Felix’s eyebrows cocks up and he bites his lips to hide his smirk, his inner brat coming back out now that he can think straight. “Who said you fucked my brains out? Last I checked I can still think properly.” Chris’ eyes roll in faux annoyance and he closes his eyes for a second, opening them back up with a fire in them as he pulls away from the new hickey he just left.

“Really?”

Felix smiles and reaches out to turn on the water for the washcloth, not expecting much more out of Chris right now considering he just came an insane amount inside of him- the cum still dripping down his thighs as they speak.

What he didn’t account for was how pent up Chris was. He didn’t know how bad his cock has ached the last few weeks for him, or how distracted and frustrated he’s been at work- unable to focus on anything but the thoughts of Felix below him at his mercy.

Chris doesn’t have much patience at this point, and even less self control, so it’s no surprise to himself when he angles Felix forward just slightly and slides a hand between them to slide his tip into the younger boy’s hole. It surprises Felix though, and his eyes roll into the back of his head as Chris sinks in all the way, his balls hitting his ass in the process

“W-Wait- Hyung-?” Felix’s fingers dig into the counter as Chris starts moving right off the bat. He’s had multiple orgasms in the last few hours and he can feel himself slipping into some sort of subspace as Chris’ hands sneak a tight grip into his hair.

“Hm. For somebody who’s ‘not fucking your brains out,’ you sure look like a brainless slut on my cock.” Felix moans loudly at Chris’ mean words, even more so at how unbothered he sounds, and his eyes snap open. His eyes quickly fall to the mirror in front of him and he shivers at the reminder of the hickeys littering his neck, feeling like he’s been claimed of sorts.

Chris’ eyes meet his in the mirror and he shakes aggressively when Chris thrusts harshly, his hand wrapping around Felix’s base at the same time. His hands move fast and Felix cries out as his orgasm builds insanely fast out of nowhere, the stinging feeling on his head only egging him on further. His body doesn’t give him anytime to warn Chris as he cums suddenly, his cock spurting onto the counter and some onto Chris’ hand.

He can see the smirk grow on Chris face, but his overstimulated body could care less about that, only focused on the squeeze around his cock. His own hand bolts down to Chris’ and he moans at the difference in the size of them. He wraps his hand around Chris’ wrist instead and tries to pull him away, only for Chris to squeeze him tighter and growl into his ear.

“Wait...” Felix shakes his head as tears prick his eyes. Chris would normally stop himself and allow the other person some time to breathe, but he feels this is a sufficient punishment for Felix trying to brat out- just for him to fail anyway.

The hand in his hair moves in favor of pinching his nipples and Felix’s eyes roll shut at the extra attention on his body. His legs shake almost nonstop and he can barely hold himself up. But despite all the overstimulation, his hips still push back against Chris’, making the older man huff out a laugh.

Soon enough Chris’s hand releases Felix’s cock, allowing him to breathe for a moment, and only a moment, because that hand digs into the muscles on Felix’s thigh and lifts it up. He angles his leg to rest his knee on the counter, allowing Chris to thrust even deeper now.

“Chris… I’m- shit!” His head drops and his arms shake, struggling to hold himself up. The new depth mixed with the sensitivity of his entire body makes Felix clench constantly around Chris.

“Gonna cum again, angel? ‘S Channie gonna make you cum again?” His voice wavers as he talks, his own orgasm dangerously close.

Felix’s chest heaves as he cums and Chris follows, a string of curses leaving his lips as he pushes them against Felix’s jawline. As he continues fucking into Felix to ride out his orgasm, Felix cums again, this time with a desperate cry that makes his voice crack and the tears in his eyes finally fall. Chris pulls out suddenly and holds Felix tightly against his chest as he jerks the younger off, making him convulse in his hold.

He whimpers and digs his nails into any part of Chris that he can reach, leaving red marks in his hand’s wake. He only calms down once Chris releases him fully, causing him to sob quietly at the overstimulation.

“You okay?” Felix nods slowly and leans back, putting all his weight on Chris as he feels his mind hovering elsewhere. Chris recognizes the general signs of subspace all too easily, having already experienced it multiple times with their girlfriend, and he chuckles lowly. “Shower time and then we’ll cuddle to sleep.”

He leaves no room for disagreements, and even if Felix could talk, he wouldn’t bother. So he simply holds onto Chris tightly as the older man washes his body off, being cautious when cleaning below his belly button. They only separate for a minute or so, so that Chris could wash himself off again, before they’re stepping out of the shower.

Chris manages to dress Felix then himself in a few minutes, laughing to himself when Felix wobbles over to the bed and throws himself onto it. Felix whines loudly when Chris doesn’t join him right away, and then again when he realizes Chris is trying to speed clean the mess they left.

“I’m coming, I’m coming~” He giggles and hurriedly tosses their clothes into a combined pile out of the way before sliding under the sheets. “Anything hurt?” Chris’s fingers soothe Felix’s scalp and the younger of the two’s head bobs as he feels sleep pulling him. “Uh-uh” He doesn’t bother shaking his head and just melts into the warm embrace.

“Sleepy…”

“Go to sleep, Lixie. I’m not going anywhere, pinky promise.”

The morning after is colder than he expected. Chris wakes up to an empty bed, and the revelation makes his heart feel emptier than ever. He lifts his head briefly to scan the room, and then closes his eyes in relief when he sees Felix’s clothes still in a pile with his own clothes from last night’s events. Then, the sound of familiar laughter coming from elsewhere in the apartment immediately comforts him.

“Morning sleepyhead. Care to explain why Felix came out of your room last night, in clothes that are deeeefinitely not his?” The shit eating smile on their girlfriend's face makes his face flush, even more so when he realized that Felix kept quiet in order to let him decide what to tell them. ‘Not well behaved’ my ass. Just gotta fuck the brat out of you.

He clears his throat to hide a laugh and shakes his head. “Straight to the point. Can’t even let me have my morning coffee before I get interrogated?” She rolls her eyes at him but smiles and doesn’t press further. “I expect details later!” She places a kiss on his cheek and then runs off to the living room to join Hyunjin in watching some artsy YouTube video, allowing Chris and Felix to have some space to talk.

“Good morning, Lix.” He leans over the younger man and husks out into his ear teasingly, caging him in with his arms planted on either side of the counter. “Slept well?”

“Like a fucking baby…” Felix’s neck flushes and they both giggle quietly. “Good morning, though. Sorry I left you alone in bed, I heard them out here and got ‘FOMO.’”

Chris smiles and shakes his head, “It’s ok, I was a bit sad but I guess it’s best to not lay in bed all morning.” Chris makes his coffee immediately after he separates from Felix, using the coffee they had made before he woke up to do so. He notices Felix doesn’t leave him after that. Had he not known the boy for the last decade almost, he would have been confused as to why. But the nervous picking at his fingernails gives him away to his leader all too easily.

“Sit with me? What’s on your mind, Lix?”

He makes a face of surprise before smiling and shaking his head knowingly. “Might sound dumb, but I just wanna know- Like… So what now?” His voice drops almost to a whisper as he finds the confidence to ask such a heavy question, and he’s happy when he does when Chris smiles sweetly and tilts his head.

“Now… You’re mine and I’m yours.” Felix smiles and bites his lips, playing around with his fingers in excitement.

“Mhm… What does this mean for everybody else then?”

“Whatever you want it to mean. Baby girl and Han will still love you the same as before- if anything the three of you might unite against me into some sort of fucking brat-brigade.” He rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his coffee, smiling into the cup when Felix bursts out laughing.

“Oh… And since we’re on the topic of ‘everybody else’…” Chris clears his throat and cracks his neck to shake the bits of shyness he feels. “Last night when you said you hadn’t talked to any of the others ‘yet’… Is that something you want?”

Felix’s face flushes and he laughs nervously. “Yeah… I think so. I’m not sure who would want me like that, but I’d be open to all of them to be honest. I think Hannie feels the same, but I think we both know he has a favorite he would want the most.” Both men laugh and Chris scoots his chair closer to Felix.

Once he’s close enough, he slugs his arm around Felix’s shoulders and pulls the younger into him. “Let me help you then, yeah? Make your life a little easier.” Felix’s eyebrows widen and he snaps his head up to see a soft smile on Chan’s face followed by those thick lips pushing against his temple. “Whatever my babies want, my babies get.”

“...Even if that means conquering all of our friends in bed.”

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dailynnt · 12 days ago

Text

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 12/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: Hi guys ❤️‍🔥 I wrote part 12 for you 💗 I soooo wanted to post it earlier, but I didn't manage 💔 But it's ready today! So what do you think? I'm a little nervous because I'm still not satisfied with my writing 😣 Give me a few words so I know what you think 🥺

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse , @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17 (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 12. The first date

You walked into the apartment, feeling your heart pounding. You still have the taste of his kiss on your lips. You want to scold yourself for letting him do whatever he wants so easily. But yesterday, after the meeting with your mother, you were broken. The moment when he stood up for you, put his chest to your crying, opened up a different side of Jungkook for you. He no longer seemed like the arrogant, self-absorbed neighbor who did nothing but piss you off. Yesterday, you saw him as a man of great strength and backbone. He consoled you so carefully that your heart ached, and the walls of defense you had erected against him cracked and crumbled.

You had long ago recognized that you were physically attracted to Jungkook, but not morally, but yesterday everything changed. When he hugged you in bed, you realized that you needed him. In that moment, you needed him, and the sex that followed almost drove you crazy, because it felt completely different. Not as something you would regret, but as something you needed.

You're afraid you're going to fall in love with Jungkook, because it turns out he's not only good at fucking you, but he's also tender with you, and that's the most dangerous thing. You notice that he wants to touch you all the time. And when he does, you feel something strange. Like you're getting an electric shock, or a wave of heat goes through your body.

He behaves as if you belong to him, and it started with that night, which was the price for his service. Since then, he thinks he can have you whenever he wants and however he wants. And the worst part is that you want him to. No matter how hard you try to push him away or deny your relationship, you're here. You play the role of his girlfriend and you fuck whenever you want. And you want to do it a lot.

Your head is boiling from the flow of thoughts in your head, how to behave properly, how not to fall in love with him, how to learn to react to him more calmly? You didn't know the answers to all these questions. You exhaled a big sigh, dropping your things and walking inside the apartment. Maybe you should let things go? Let it happen? But won't you regret it when the deal comes to an end? Won't it be hard for you to continue living next door to Jungkook without feeling anything for him? You're afraid it will. Because even when he's not around, you subconsciously want him to be.

Why? Because yesterday you felt protected by him? But didn't you feel the need for his presence before the situation with your mother?

You are playing with fire, which can not only burn you, so it will hurt, it can burn you, destroy you. You will try to keep your cool, and maybe then Jungkook will turn away from you.

You put your things away and decided to take a bath, as the trip from Busan had exhausted you.

You barely talked to Jungkook on the way home because his phone just wouldn't stop ringing. It was because he wasn't in the office on a weekday, and there were many things that needed his attention. You were secretly watching how he conducted business, how he talked, and how he made decisions. You could tell that he was very good at what he did. He is a worthy heir to a large company and will be a great CEO when his time comes.

So, to get rid of your tiredness, you wanted to lie in the bathtub, which was perfect for relaxing your body.

You filled up the tub with warm water, added lavender-scented salt, and lathered up. You undressed and climbed into the tub. The water enveloped your body, swallowing you up like a cocoon. The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, and the warm water made you almost purr with pleasure. You closed your eyes and listened to the melody you had turned on your phone, completely immersing yourself in a relaxed atmosphere.

At first you lay there almost motionless, then you moved your arms a little under the water, stirring up small foamy waves. Your phone vibrated, your grandmother was calling. You picked up the phone, talked to her, told her that you had arrived quickly, and that Jungkook had gone to the office. Your grandmother didn't miss the chance to praise Jungkook once again and tell you how happy she was that you had him.

You listened to her with a pang in your heart. What will happen when she finds out that you're not seeing him anymore, when the agreement expires? She'll be upset, and she'll definitely be angry with Jungkook. What if she finds out that your relationship with him is fake? Will she be able to take that kind of blow? You shuddered at the thought.

You heard your grandmother calling you on the phone, because you had been thinking for too long. You said you were tired and wanted to rest. Grandma understood what you were saying and almost immediately afterwards, saying that she loved you and was grateful for everything you and Jungkook had done for her, she hung up.

You closed your eyes again, enjoying your bath, trying not to think about Jungkook, but it was not working. Moments from the morning and the past times you'd been together with him kept flashing through your mind. Your insides felt like they were being mixed a spoon when you involuntarily remembered how he entered you, what words he whispered to you. How he made you feel the best orgasm that no one before him had ever given you. You ran up to your feet, and your knees immediately touched the air, which was cool against the water.

You opened your eyes and looked at your feet. How do you stop thinking about him? But just as you were about to do so, his name appeared on your phone screen. Your heart lurched somewhere in your throat, but you ignored it and picked up the phone without wasting any time.

"Hello," you answered the call, trying to keep your tone even.

"Is the kitten busy?" you heard Jungkook's voice say. He sounded soft and playful. You immediately realized that he was calling for a reason. You had just seen him twenty minutes ago. He had a lot to do, which meant he was calling with a specific purpose.

"I'm taking a bath, what do you want?" you asked, sharper than you meant to.

"Oh... if I can video call you?" Jungkook asked. And his low voice made your body react in a way you didn't want it to. A subtle throbbing started between your legs. If you were really a couple, you'd let him call and make him wish he was around. But you won't give him that privilege because your relationship is fake. You clicked your tongue in irritation.

"Jungkook, say what you want or I'm hanging up," you warned, forcing him to get to the point of the call. You sat down, wrapping your arms around your knees.

"You shouldn't have said no, but I'm calling for a reason. Kitten, take a bath, put on something nice. In 15 minutes my manager will come to pick you up, I need you in the office."

You froze, trying to understand what Jungkook had just said.

"You mean in the office? Why?" you wondered.

"I'll explain when you get there," you heard him say. You were not satisfied with this answer. You really felt exhausted and had no desire to go anywhere else.

"We just got here, Jungkook, I'm tired after the trip, can I come tomorrow?" you asked, protesting but hoping that he didn't have a serious reason for your visit.

"No kitten, you need to be here in exactly half an hour." he replied in a tone that didn't accept objections. You exhaled a doomed breath, you saw no point in arguing with them, seemed like it had some to do with the deal, but he didn’t say it right away. And it was pissing you off.

"What should I wear?" you asked, trying to figure out what he needed you for in the office. And to avoid another argument over your appearance.

"Dress like we're going on a date," Jungkook told you. A date? He wants you to go on a date?

"I usually wear a t-shirt and jeans, is that okay?" your voice was filled with irony.

"If you feel comfortable wearing those clothes to an expensive restaurant, then sure, you can dress like a kitten," Jungkook replied. You heard him smile slightly. You exhaled nervously into the phone again. Of course, if this is a date with Jungkook, it will be an expensive restaurant and definitely media attention. So you need to dress nice and expensive.

"Okay, I'll be ready in 15 minutes." you promised.

"I'm waiting for you," he said happily.

You were the first to hang up and groaned, throwing the phone on the table. You wanted to rest so badly, but Jungkook had already ruined your plans with his "fake date."

At the entrance, right in front of the front door, you spotted a black car waiting for you. Spotlessly clean, with tinted windows, it looked luxurious. Jungkook's manager, a serious man who didn't seem to know how his face muscles worked, stood by the car. As soon as you approached, he bowed slightly, greeted you, introduced himself as Manager Lee Ji-hyun, and opened the back door for you.

You greeted back and got inside, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Inside, there was a subtle scent of leather and expensive perfume. Manager Lee silently took the driver's seat and drove off without another word.

You drove in silence for a while. You were checking your phone, and for some reason you were nervous at the thought of visiting Jungkook's office and after that going on a date afterwards.

The car drove smoothly onto the main road, the manager was silent. He certainly didn't have to entertain you, but his silence weighed on your shoulders. To break the silence, you tried to find out why you had to go to the Jungkook.

"Excuse me," you said, "Do you know why I need to go to Jungkook's office urgently..." in the rearview mirror, you met Manager Lee's attentive gaze. And thinking that you had called Chunguk informally, you quickly added, "Jungkook-nim?"

"Jungkook-nim will personally explain everything to you," he replied politely, without adding anything else.

You sighed slightly and leaned back. You stopped talking to him. Manager Lee seemed like a man who would not disobey an order even under pressure.

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up smoothly to the huge ‘Jeon Group’ building. It looked like a glass tower that almost reached the clouds. It looked like dozens of similarly successful companies, but for some reason it seemed special. It was typical, but it stood out from the crowd.

Manager Lee silently drove into the underground parking lot, deftly maneuvering among the expensive cars. As soon as you parked, he got out, walked around the car, and gave you a short nod, inviting you to follow him.

You hurried after him across the large gray parking lot to the elevator. He pressed a special button, and a few seconds later the doors opened in front of you. The elevator was spacious, with mirrored walls and golden panels on the sides. You felt a little dizzy-not only because of the height you were going up, but also because of the tension inside you.

You did not meet a single person. It was obvious that this was a private elevator used only by executives. Your pulse was racing with each floor you passed. When the doors finally opened, you were greeted by a spacious reception area, elegant and restrained in gray and white.

Behind the desk sat the receptionist, a young woman with perfect hair and a professional smile. When she saw you, she raised her eyebrows in interest and greeted you warmly, quickly looking you up and down. Manager Lee informed the secretary that you were here to see CEO Jeon Jungkook on a personal matter.

You politely greeted her back, a little embarrassed to see her studying you. The manager did not linger in the reception area, he hurried to Jungkook’s office and you intuitively followed him. The manager was the first to enter, announcing that you had arrived.

"Jungkook-nim, Y/N has arrived," you heard him officially announce.

You held your breath as you followed him into the office. You stepped inside, and your fingers involuntarily tightened on the strap of your purse. You tried to act confident.

Jungkook's gaze, which looked up from the tablet, burned you instantly. His fingers froze over the screen. His eyes...

They swallowed you whole, as if you were the only person in this entire huge office.

You nervously brushed your hair behind your ear, feeling the cream dress cling to your skin. It fit you perfectly, you knew that, but now you felt naked under his gaze.

You watched him stand up. How he took a step toward you, and you had to use an effort of will to keep yourself from stepping back. You wanted to look calm. But inside, everything was turning upside down. You didn't understand why you were reacting to him like that. Why he suddenly caused your heart to race.

You noticed Jungkook's jaw tense slightly as he slowly looked you up and down. His eyes were dark, sparkling... almost dangerous.

"Manager Lee, thank you for bringing me the Y/N. You can go now," his voice was low, vibrating, and you tried your best not to react to it.

You couldn't see, but you guessed that Manager Lee nodded and bowed. The barely audible rustle of his suit gave him away. He left and you were left with the two of you. There was a silence in the air, and you wanted to break it as soon as possible so that it wouldn't press on your ears.

"You asked me to look like we were going on a date," you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice was a little strained. You looked away, took a few steps to the side, as if you were curious to see his office. "Do I look appropriate?" I threw over my shoulder, touching my fingers to the golden rabbit statue on his desk.

There was no response. You felt his gaze on you and it literally burned you.

He came even closer, and his voice finally sounded hoarse.

"You look... dangerously appropriate." the next moment his arms slid around your waist. You felt the strength of his palms as he held you close. Your heart was beating wildly. You were frozen in place, as if you were paralyzed.

His face leaned down to your shoulder, and you felt his nose touch your skin. He inhaled your scent deeply. The sweet smell of apricots that you had chosen for yourself today seemed to appeal to him.

"Jungkook..." You whispered nervously, grabbing his hands, trying to push him away, to stop him. You were in his office, and anyone could walk in, because door was unlocked. "What are you doing? What if someone comes in?"

The answer was a kiss on the earlobe. A light bite that almost made your knees buckle.

"That's my plan..." he murmured low, his lips burning against your skin.

You turned your head, forcing yourself to keep your distance, even though his proximity was driving you crazy. Your brain was boiling.

"What do you mean?" you whispered, trying to figure out what exactly this plan was. His eyes slid to your lips, staying there long enough for you to know for sure that he wanted to kiss you.

"My mother should be here soon with Sukhi," his voice sounded almost weightless. "They wanted to pick me up to have dinner with them. But I'm busy. I'm going on a date with my girlfriend."

You were instantly filled with anger. You opened your eyes wide.

"You do it again, Jeon!" you exploded, instinctively pulling away. His hands reluctantly dropped. "Why didn't you tell me in the first place that your mother would be here?!" you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling anger and anxiety mixing inside you. You weren't ready to meet his mother at all. Not so soon. "I should to known, Jungkook! I could have at least prepared myself mentally!". Again, he confronted you with a fact.

Jungkook looked at you calmly. As calmly as if this were a completely normal situation. His eyes were sparkling. There was something... unstoppable in them.

"I knew you would react this way," he said, moving toward you.

"You knew and you are deliberately doing this to spite me?" you asked colorlessly. And then it all happened too fast. Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and pushed you against the table with a sharp movement. You gasped, and before you knew it, you felt a hard surface beneath you.

He lifted you to the edge of the table, standing between your legs, holding you tightly by the hips. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath.

"You don't have to worry, kitten," he purred, his gaze darkened, stirring desire in you. "I'm just going to show you to your mother. It won't take more than a minute. And then we'll go..."

"I don't..." you began, but your words were lost in his sudden, passionate kiss. Jungkook's lips covered yours, leaving you no chance to escape.

You felt his arms holding you even tighter, his lips demanding more than you were ready to give. You were overcome with frenzy-sweet, intoxicating, disturbing. You felt moisture instantly soaking your underwear.

You had been in his office. You couldn't do it here. But Jungkook's touch made you forget everything but your unrestrained desire.

While enjoying Jungkook's kiss, you didn't immediately hear the office door open.

"Jungkook-ah, son..." a cold female voice said. Your heart sank to your heels. Jungkook slowly pulled away from your lips, but his arms still held you.

You could feel his chest heaving with his breath. Jungkook turned his head, and you saw them.

His mother.

And Sukhi.

They were standing in the doorway, their eyes on you.

You can't even imagine how horrible it looked in their eyes. You are sitting on the table. Jungkook is standing between your legs with his hands on your hips.

You were ready to fall through the ground. And you definitely wanted to kill Jungkook right now.

Your anger knew no bounds. You turned away from Jungkook, who was driving and didn't seem to feel any guilt at all. The music in the Mercedes was playing, trying unsuccessfully to muffle the loud silence between you. The scene you had experienced ten minutes ago flashed in your mind over and over again.

You abruptly jumped off the table, pushing Jungkook away. Your face was flushed red and your hands were shaking. Jungkook didn't take a step back. He just turned lazily towards the guests, and a half-smile appeared on his face, the same self-confident and impudent one that made you lose your temper every time.

"Mom," he greeted calmly, not even trying to hide his impudence. "Sukhi."

You were ready to break through the ground, you wanted to disappear. You had never felt so terrible. You looked down, thinking of the most horrible way to kill Jungkook.

Jungkook's mother looked at you sternly, her gaze icy and hard, but you didn't see it. Sukhi looked hurt and upset at first, and then a smile appeared on her face, a gloating, subtle smile. And Jungkook didn't like it, her first reaction was better suited to the situation.

"I see you're very... busy," Jungkook's mother said with icy restraint. "But Manager Lee assured me that you're free tonight."

"Yeah, mom, already a bit busy," Jungkook said without shame, putting his hand on your waist. You glared at him, wanting to slap him. "But never mind . Y/N and I were going to leave."

"Y/N..." Jungkook's mother repeated your name. Your insides clenched. You heard the soft click of her heels and unconsciously held your breath. She stopped a few steps away. "Is this the same girl that the journalists recently wrote about?" she asked, as if driving a knife into your body with every word.

Jungkook's mother looked at you, and you could almost physically feel her gaze.

"Yes, mom, it's her." you heard Sukhi’s voice. "Jungkook introduced me to her at the after-party for the opening of the ‘Vante Maison’ boutique."

His mother didn't react to Sukhi’s words. There was a moment of silence, and then Jungkook's mother said.

"Son, I understand why you're playing with this girl. She's really pretty, but you know... you need to end it. Tell Manager Lee to order a taxi for her and let's go have dinner with your future fiancée..." Jungkook's mother didn't have time to finish her sentence because he interrupted her.

"Mom…" his voice was steady, but the irritation in it was unmistakable. "I don’t have a fiancée. What I have is this girl — and I’m not playing games with her, I’m dating her. And right now, I’m taking her on a date, so I won’t be able to go with you."

He said each word slowly, clearly, as if to finally make it sink in — for both his mother and Suhee: he wasn’t playing by their rules.

Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the office exit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You felt Jungkook touch your thigh. Holding back your anger, you looked at his hand on your skin, and then slowly looked up at him. He glared at you, but quickly turned back to the road.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" he said quietly, with a guilty, almost boyish smile.

"Angry?" you stared at his profile, barely restraining the urge to hit him, "Why would I be angry, huh, Jeon? Because your mother looked at me as if I were a cheap accessory to be disposed of as soon as possible?"

"Do you care about my mother's opinion?" Jungkook suddenly asked, squeezing your thigh lightly. You raised your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at.

"No. But..." you trailed off, catching yourself thinking that you were really upset that his mother didn't accept you.

"She wouldn't to approve you even if you weren't my fake girlfriend. She wants me to marry Sukhi. So don't take her behavior into account," Jungkook reassured you.

Those words hit you like a cold shower. Yes, you are not Jungkook's real girlfriend. It made sense that his mother didn’t welcome you with open arms on the doorstep — youwere just an obstacle in her family's big plans. You turned away. Why do you feel humiliated by this situation?

"Just warn me about your damned antics next time. I'm tired of improvise," you grunted, hiding your emotions behind your irritation.

"Okay," he replied seriously. "Next time I'll tell you right away. Although," his lips slipped into a half-smile, "you're not bad at improvising, today, for example, you were so good to keep silence."

"Gosh, just shut up," you couldn't stand his insolence. You pushed his hand away, and Jungkook didn't like it. He gave a sideways glare at you. You sat with your arms crossed and looked straight ahead. Your eyebrows remained furrowed in displeasure.

A few minutes later, you pulled up to the restaurant. Jungkook parked the car. You was looking at the expensive place and only now did it dawn on you that you had come here for a fake first date.

"Umgg.." you squeezed out. Now you felt sadness mixed with irritation, but you'd have to smile and act like Jungkook's happy girl. He turned to you.

"If you don't want to go inside, I can take you home," he offered. You could hear the tension in his voice. He didn't seem to like your mood, but whose fault was that?

You asked him without turning your head.

"Can I really refuse? Or is it your voluntary and forced choice again?" you said sarcastically. Jungkook nervously leaned back in his car seat, his posture relaxed, though his eyes said he wasn't in the mood to play right now.

"Do you want to refuse?" he asked in a serious tone that sent a chill down your spine. You finally turned your face to him.

"Yes, I do, I don't want to play your lucky pleasure toy," you said. Jungkook moved forward sharply, and in a matter of seconds he closed the distance between you. He leaned on the armrest and looked at you with a piercing gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a low voice that made your pulse quicken. You glanced at his lips in betrayal and then quickly returned to his eyes. It was no more than a second, but Jungkook caught it. He was attentive to every detail about you.

"Yes," you said firmly, without any hesitation. "Take me home. I don't want to go on a date with you." Jungkook was angry. He didn't look away. His jaw tensed, and a fire flashed in his eyes that you'd seen before, the one that appeared when he wasn't going to give in.

And then, unexpectedly, he leaned in even closer, so close that your breath hitched.

"It's a pity you don't want to. Because I've already decided that you're staying," his voice sounded dull, low, dangerous. His hand took you sharply, but not roughly, by the chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. You grabbed his hand and threw it away.

"You offered to drive me if I didn't want to go. I don't want to," you repeated again. "And don't grab me like that. I'm not your property..." you said, your voice trembling with anger.

Jungkook froze for a moment. His lips were pressed into a thin line. Then he silently unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. You followed his figure with your eyes, realizing that he was walking to your door. He opened it and leaned towards you. You stared in surprise at his face, which was close. He also released your body from the seatbelt, and before you could get a word in edgewise, he grabbed your arm and pulled you outside. Jungkook closed the car door and pushed you against it. His strong body pressed against yours felt good. Jungkook almost kissed you, keeping his lips within touching distance.

"Am I so unpleasant to you that you refuse to go out with me?" he asked, purring against your lips. You watched his lips move in awe. The way the piercing on his lower lip glistened.

"No..." you said the truth, mesmerized by his closeness, "it's just that my mood has gone to hell," you said quietly, holding his elbows.

"I can lift it very easily, you know that..." he whispered, touching your cheek with his nose. He was driving you crazy with his actions. Your heart melted and you couldn't be angry with him anymore. "Where should I lift it up for you in the car, or in the restaurant's restroom?" he asked playfully. He looked at you, and his eyes were full of undisguised desire.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a slight wave of excitement run through your body. You glanced behind him. There were a lot of people near the restaurant and in the restaurant itself. You didn't see anyone looking at you, but it was definitely was.

"Jungkook," you tried to increase the distance between your faces, "there are a lot of people here..."

Jungkook looked into your eyes and smiled, pleased that you were reacting more calmly.

"It’s not just crowded here — there are also journalists who would be thrilled to write yet another article about our relationship." he said, kissing you lightly on the corner of your mouth. You instinctively closed your eyes, and when you realized he wasn't going to continue, you opened them.

"Did you take care of it? I think I will get a new portions hateful comments. Some people wrote that you have a taste problem." you said, smiling slightly. You remembered one of the comments under those articles where you were first called Jungkook's mistress. And that comment was not the most offensive.

"They must have a problem with their eyesight if they think I have no taste," Jungkook said irritably, his eyebrows furrowing. You bit your lips to hide the smile provoked by Jungkook's response.

"Maybe you have really bad taste?" you joked, "come on, I can tell you that if you tell me your ideal type."

"You" Jungkook answered immediately. The smile that had been frozen on your face slipped away. You felt something invisible squeezing your chest.

"Me?" you couldn't believe your ears. This can't be happening. He's just trying to play on your feelings. He's manipulating you to stop being angry with him.

"You heard me, kitten. You're my perfect type of girl," Jungkook assured you. He touched your cheek with the back of his hand. He stroked it lightly, savoring your confusion, "But your temper is a nightmare," he smiled slyly. He's a master at ruining a good moment.

"Idiot..." you said quietly, turning your head away. Jungkook laughed heartily. You were outraged by what he said about your character, because you thought you were a person of good character. Jungkook squeezed you tighter in his arms and leaned over, touching your forehead.

"But I have to admit that your character is a real challenge for me, and I love challenges."

You sighed, trying not to give in to the emotions he was stirring up in you. His closeness was intoxicating. His words were irritatingly pleasant. But you couldn't afford to lose control again.

"Let's go, I'm hungry." you ignored his words, hiding the real emotions.

"Yes, kitten, we'll go, but first, a convincing gesture that we're a couple," Jungkook said, and the next moment he touched your lips. His tongue unceremoniously burst into your mouth, demonstrating his superiority.

You felt your heart clench sharply. Jungkook was so confident that even his kiss seemed dominant, but there was no violence in it, only a deafening, slightly unbridled heat. You couldn't just pull away, even though you knew it would hurt your control. He seemed to know exactly how to exploit all your weaknesses.

You responded to him, trying to control yourself, but his bent body, his heat permeating every cell of your skin, made it difficult. When the kiss broke, you did your best not to look too confused.

"Now let's go, Jin will feed you the most delicious food in Seoul," Jungkook said as he intertwined your fingers. So this luxurious restaurant, ‘Nocturne’, belongs to Jin. The guy you met at the afterparty.

The entrance to the restaurant was luxurious. The warm light inside created a cozy atmosphere The interior was decorated in delicate pastel colors, dominated by shades of pink - from muted powdery to deeper, rich colors.

The walls were covered with soft light panels with textured plaster, and abstract paintings in a pink gradient hung between them. The silky tablecloths reflected the light, and each table had a small vase of peonies and tea roses.

The hostess - a tall, slender girl in a stylish black dress with a pale pink belt - came to you almost instantly as soon as you crossed the threshold. Her face lit up when she saw Jungkook.

"Jungkook-nim," she bowed slightly, smiling. "It's good to see you again. It's been a while." It was obvious that he was a frequent visitor here, and it was not surprising, since it was his friend's restaurant. The hostess gave you a brief, attentive glance, after which her smile became even warmer, but with a touch of professional politeness. "Please, let me show you to the best table."

She led you past several tables set up near tall windows, behind which the lights of the evening city shimmered slightly, and to a table in a secluded corner of the room, a little away from the other guests. The table was covered with a pink tablecloth, and napkins with the restaurant's embroidered initials were already waiting for them.

"Your waiter will be with you in a moment," the hostess said and politely left.

You looked around. Less than a minute later, a young waiter approached you with a tablet in his hands. He was a little nervous when he met Jungkook's eyes and quickly bowed.

"Good evening. My name is Jihoon, and I'll be serving you tonight. What would you like to order?"

"Can you have Kim Seokjin serve me and my girlfriend the best romantic dinner possible?" Jungkook replied calmly, not needing a menu. The young man became even more nervous, but smiled as he bowed.

"I will pass on your request to our chef. Do you have any special requests for drinks?"

"No, Jihoon, no need for additional drinks. Just serve what will be best for this dinner," Jungkook said, his voice low and calm, as if he controlled every movement in the space.

The waiter nodded and, with another quick bow, quickly left.

You glanced around the room and noticed that there were a lot of people in the restaurant. You looked around the interior for a moment longer, and then turned your head to Jungkook, and he was already looking at you, with a mysterious smile on his lips.

"What?" you asked, reservedly.

"Nothing... I just thought I've never brought a girl here before. You're the first."

You arched an eyebrow, not believing what he was saying.

"Why didn't you bring a girl here? Were you afraid Jin would see how many of them were?" you scoffed.

"Not for that reason. He already knows how many there were. And it's not dozens, as you think." Jungkook replied, putting his hands on the table and locking them. You still didn't believe him.

"Then what's the reason?" you asked sincerely. He shrugged and then looked away, sliding his gaze across the hall.

"Probably because this place is special to me. It's connected to the real me. With my best friend. I didn't want to share something so personal with someone else."

Jungkook's words impressed you. You felt special and you couldn't help but like it. The fact that he had shared something personal with you caused a warm wave in your chest. But the part of you that was used to not trusting him made itself known.

"Why did you want to share with me?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Because I learned something about you yesterday, and it wouldn't be fair of me if I didn't do the same," he answered, smiling slightly. You looked at him for a long few seconds. You understood perfectly well what he was talking about. Jungkook recognized your personal trauma related to your mother, and he wanted to share something personal with you as well. For example, he wanted to take you to a special place for him, where no one from his circle except his friends ever goes.

You didn't know what to say, because you were pleasantly surprised by his behavior, which was new to you. Jungkook was becoming more and more unlike the Jungkook you knew as a neighbor.

You were saved from the awkwardness that arose between you by Jin, the chef of this luxurious restaurant, who was rapidly approaching your table. You noticed him first, and smiled at his cheerful mood. Jungkook noticed your gaze shift and turned around.

"Did you really bring your girlfriend to my restaurant?" asked Jin, smiling and opening his arms to hug his friend. Jungkook stood up and for some reason you stood up too. They hugged each other like family.

"Yes, Jin-hyun. I thought she should know who cooks the best food in Seoul," Jungkook said as he let go of Jin. Jin bowed slightly to you, and you bowed back.

"It's good to see you, Y/N. Now I can definitely see that Jungkook-ah is serious about you," he leaned in, pressing his hands to his lips as if he wanted to share a secret, but he said it so Jungkook could hear it, "he's never brought a girl here, he's not the dating type."

You smiled sweetly, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"I'm really glad that Jungkook brought me to you, Jin-shi. and wants to go a date with me. It makes me feel special," you lied, you turned your gaze to Jungkook and met his attentive gaze. You could barely stop yourself from raising your eyebrows in surprise. He looked at you almost without blinking, with a mesmerized gaze. Your heart skipped a beat, why was he staring like that?

"It would be my honor to prepare a romantic dinner for you. I will choose the best dishes and won't keep you waiting long. I hope you enjoy it," Jin said sincerely. He put his hand on Jungkook's shoulder, pulling him away from you.

"We sure will," Jungkook said.

Jin went to the kitchen, and right after he left, a waiter brought you a white semi-sweet wine. He poured you two glasses and wished you a pleasant evening and left. Jungkook grabbed a glass and you followed suit.

"Cheers to us," Jungkook suggested. You smiled tensely.

"To our deal. For it to work," you added. Jungkook nodded and the sound of glass diluted the noise around you. You took a few sips and the flavor of the grapes blossomed on your tongue. You noticed that Jungkook was staring at you and tried to act calm. But it wasn't working out well. You were nervous about his piercing gaze today.

"Relax, kitten, you look so tense, it's just dinner," Jungkook suddenly said as he put his glass on the table. He noticed your tense state and you didn't like it. You need to control your body language better. You really need to relax, but Jungkook is the direct cause of your tension. His behavior makes your heart beat faster, and it makes you feel strange.

"I'd be more relaxed if you weren't eating me up with your eyes," you said as casually as you could. You took another sip of wine, instinctively hiding behind the glass.

Jungkook laughed, his eyes still on you, a soft laugh with a hint of amusement. You realized that he was really enjoying the fact that he could embarrass you so much. He dodged a direct answer, but you saw his lips turn up slightly at the corners.

"I'm not eating you. I'm just... admiring," he said, almost a whisper, and his gaze softened, but it made you lose control even more "It's hard to look away when looking at a woman like that."

Your cheeks lit up, and you instantly looked away. Was the wine starting to take effect, or was it him? It seems that today Jungkook decided to attack you with emotions, not words. And you were completely unprepared for it.

"Are you trying to throw compliments at me, hoping for something after dinner?" you asked ironically. He burst out laughing again.

"Doesn't a date end with sex after a romantic dinner?" he answered with a question, making his voice seductively playful. You hummed, unconsciously, pressing your thighs together. The thought of having sex with Jungkook after your fake date was already burning red in your head. You wonder to yourself how he can make you feel this uncontrollable desire. To be honest, you hope that this is how your evening will end, but you can't show it to him. There's no way Jungkook can find out that you want to have sex with him.

"Seems like all your dates end this way, huh? Hate to disappoint you, but for normal people — it doesn’t always go like this," you said sarcastically. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, looking surprised.

"Really? That's so boring," he said. You gave a short laugh.

"It's not boring," you argued. "Decent people don't have sex after the first date," you said indignantly. Jungkook was enjoying your conversation, his eyes burning with curiosity.

"You've never had sex on a first date?" he asked, smiling broadly, and sipped his wine. You raised your eyebrows.

"Never! I don't sleep with men I barely know," your answer made Jungkook's eyes light up. He leaned back in his chair and looked at you slyly, as if you had just told a lie.

"You hardly knew me either when we first had sex. But you slept with me anyway," he said, watching your reaction closely. You froze, not expecting such words.

"We've known each other for a long time..." you began uncertainly, trying to justify yourself, but Jungkook interrupted you. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I..." you trailed off, swallowing your indecision along with the bitterness in your chest. "It was different. You wanted sex as payment for a favor, and... I was... in a very difficult position at the time."

Jungkook was listening intently, but he didn't seem satisfied with your explanation. He raised his eyebrows slightly and pursed his lips, as if to suggest that your answer was just an attempt to escape the truth.

"So you only agreed because you had no choice?" he asked quietly, but his voice was a mixture of resentment and curiosity. He wasn't angry, no. But you felt that he was waiting for something more. Maybe even sincerity.

"Um..." you really didn't know what to say. In fact, you agreed because you wanted to. If you hadn't been attracted to Jungkook, you wouldn't have even let him touch you. "Yes," you lied. You were afraid to tell him openly that you liked him. "You threatened to make my life in the neighborhood terrible." You remembered what he said.

Jungkook tilted his head. He couldn't believe that you didn't want him as much as he wanted you. From the first day you met him, he could feel the sexual tension between you and he knew, that you felt it too.

"And the other times?" he asked, "you also had no choice?"

You felt a heat run up your spine. You felt hot, and you wanted to end this topic as soon as possible.

"We actually talked about dating," you tried to change the subject. Jungkook smiled, he could see how nervous you were, and it made him feel hot.

Jungkook didn't look away. His smile became slow, almost lazy, and there was something predatory and alluring about it.

"Yes, we talked about dating..." he trailed off, as if savoring every word. His voice became low and deep, and you caught him trying to suppress a subtle laugh. "You're contradicting yourself. You assurer that you don't have sex with men at first date, because you don’t know his well, but you agreed to have sex with me, a man you barely knew," Jungkook summarized.

"You don't take into account the circumstances under which I agreed," you said, unhappy, clutching your glass involuntarily.

"No, you're just not the good girl you want to appear to be," Jungkook said, still smiling slyly. Your eyes widened in shock, indignation, and... anger. Who was he to make such a judgment about you?

Jungkook stood up, put his chair next to yours, and sat down, boldly and brazenly violating your personal space. As always, without asking permission. His knee touched yours. And you seemed to be frozen.

He leaned closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath sliding across your cheek. His voice was low, muffled, dangerously slow.

"You act like you're only interested in control, only in rules... But your eyes tell me more than you want to. You want to be exposed. To have your soul bared."

You held your breath.

His fingers touched your wrist. Gently. Barely. But it was enough to make your body tense.

"You're the kind of person who's afraid of their desires, but dreams of someone guessing them. For someone... to stop you from running away from yourself." His gaze did not let go. Warm, but commanding. Piercing. He slid his fingers down the outside of your thigh, over the fabric of your skirt, slowly, steadily, as if he were testing how far he could go without saying a word.

You gulped in a breath, your heart beating with double the force. His touch was light, but a wave was already rising inside you.

"Look at you," his voice was barely audible, almost a whisper, sliding over you like silk. "You're trembling because you want me to touch you..."

You tried to say something, but the words dissolved in his breath. He leaned in even closer and gently touched your lips-not with a kiss, but with a seduction.

"In fact, you love sex and are ready to sleep with a man on the first date if you like him. You're ready to suck his cock like any whore's can’t do, and let him have you completely and totally. You have a lot of hidden kinks that affect you and you don't mind exploring even more perversions if you're comfortable with your partner."

Jungkook's every word is like a blow to your solar plexus. You forget how to breathe. Your lips are slightly parted, and you see his eyes slide over them before meeting yours again. The look in Jungkook's eyes is one of confidence, of being right, and fuck, he's right. He good learned you and it scares.

"I'm not..." you wanted to argue, but your voice was shaking.

"Yes, you are," Jungkook replied quietly, his voice a dangerous, pleasant whisper. "You agreed to have sex with me, barely knowing me, because you're attracted to me, kitten." He slid his hand down under the skirt of your dress.

You felt your stomach clench with tension, and then he gently spread his warmth down. It seemed that he was not penetrating your skirt, but your skin.

You felt him touch your underwear. The pulse between your legs increased and moisture began to leak out.

"I can finger fuck you under the table right now and you wouldn't mind... that's how bad you are," he whispered in your ear. His breath burned your skin.

His fingers slid down to your thighs, pushed the edge of your thong away... and touched your most sensitive spot. At first hesitantly, teasingly, as if studying you. His middle finger slid along your wet slit, and you almost screamed.

You squeezed his hand with your legs, not stopping him, but rather pressing him closer. Your hand instinctively grabbed his wrist, and your cheek rested on his shoulder.

"Jungkook..." you whispered, chained by both fear and excitement. "The journalists... they..."

"They won't," his voice was hoarse, hard, almost angry. "I've chosen the perfect angle. Now, be quiet and obey."

He pressed harder, his thumb slowly beginning to draw circles on your clit, sensitively, without rushing, making you clench. The other two fingers penetrated deeper, stretching, pulsing inside you.

"So wet..." he breathed out, and his tongue touched your earlobe. You felt your whole body tremble.

He was taking his time. He was torturing you, corrupting every inch of you.

"Come on, kitten... Feel it. I want you to come here. For me."

A few smooth strokes, then a change of rhythm - faster, deeper - and then slowly again... He played you like an instrument.

You could feel your body being filled with waves. Each touch was like a flash. Your internal muscles began to tremble. You couldn't breathe.

His voice was the last push:

"You are my bad girl. Whoring under the table is your new name. Cum for me, kitten."

You clenched around his fingers, your body merged into one climactic wave, you gasped for breath, moaned softly, digging your fingers into his shirt. Your clit throbbed, a few more soft touches and you crumbled, helpless and trembling.

Jungkook kept his eyes on you. His fingers were still touching you-softly, gently, almost tenderly, as if they were calming your storm. Then he slowly pulled his hand out from under your skirt. He took a glass, took a sip, and said calmly:

"See?" his voice was softer but still deep, "You just came on my fingers." You clenched your jaw. A wave of shame and desire mixed in your chest, making your heart beat faster. "You want me even when you're not supposed to. Even when there are people around. And you hardly know me, so don't lie to yourself."

He leaned down and lightly touched your lips with his. He tasted each of your lips in turn, and finally pulled away with a reverent gesture. He sat up straight, as if nothing had happened.

Jungkook took another sip of wine, his eyes never leaving yours. There was everything in his gaze: triumph, desire, possession.

But you couldn't say anything. Your breathing hadn't steadied yet, and your heart was pounding in your chest as if it wanted to jump out.

Your legs trembled a little, and you tried your best to sit upright, even though you were still pulsing wave after wave inside. You clenched your jaw, trying to pull yourself together. Your hot cheeks gave you away.

And at that very moment, the waiter approached your table with a slight bend and a professional smile.

"Your appetizers," he said, placing the plates on the table. You tried your best not to look at Jungkook and not to give yourself away. You just took the glass of wine and took a sip, hiding the trembling of your lips.

"Thanks," Jungkook said calmly, as if nothing had happened. He pushed the plate over to you and whispered very quietly, keeping his eyes on you:

"Now, pretend to eat while your body still remembers my fingers."

You almost choked on the wine, but you gathered your strength. The smile on your lips was nervous, but your eyes were burning with... desire. And shame.

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook x f!reader #jungkook imagine #bts fanfction #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts #jungkook jeon #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x original character #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook ceo au #jungkook slow burn

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rekino2114 · 1 month ago

Note

Hi I saw your "jjk girls struggling to open a soda can for you" and it was so funny

I'm wondering if you could do the same for the chainsaw man girls

The chainsaw man girls struggling to open a soda can for you

A/n:I'm glad you liked it as it was one of my favorite things to write hope you enjoy this too. Also this is my first post with actual fami so say hi to her. Spoilers for the last chapter in the last 2 parts

Makima

"Sure thing darling"

She smiles sweetly and takes the can from you before trying to open it. Her expression morphing into a confused one when she can't

Makima is a devil, not only that a horseman of apocalypse, not to mention the head of public safety. To put it simply she's incredibly strong, way stronger than any normal human and definitely strong enough to open a normal soda can

So she's not only surprised that it's taking her this much, but also annoyed, not specifically at the fact that she can't open a soda can but at the fact that she can't open a soda can that you asked her to open, you, the most important person in makima's life, she swore to do everything for you and she's not breaking that promise for a damn soda can

"You don't mind if I'm a little rough with it right?"

"Huh? No sure go ahead I guess"

"Good, thanks"

She places the can on the table and backs away

"Please stand back a bit love"

"O-ok"

She points her finger at the can and aims at lid

"Bang!"

The force hits the can as it falls to the ground

"Ah, I'm glad, it was a bit harder than expected, but I'm happy I could help yo-"

"It's still closed"

"............what?"

"Look"

You hold out the can to makima as she sees that not only is the lid still on but the can looks totally unfazed

Makima looks genuinely shocked before she makes her creepy and uncanny smile and closes her eyes

"Oh really? What a surprise, say darling do you mind putting it back on the table"

".....sure"

You do that a bit worried at what she's going to do

"And remember to stand back, I don't want you to get caught up in anything"

".......makima, what are you-"

Suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes completely as makima opens her horseman eyes to reveal they're glowing even more and a red halo appears on her head

"WAIT NO-"

[A bit later]

You and makima exit her office with her looking completely traumatized

"......it still.......didn't work"

"P-please calm down ok?"

Power

She's so smug from the moment you ask her to help you

"Of course you would ask the great power for help"

"Don't start now"

"Do not fret human! For I, the almighty power shall open this accursed can that's causing my love so much trouble"

She thinks this is gonna be easy as pie, and also wants to show off, so she just tries to open it with a finger while her eyes are closed

"Here you go! This demonstration of my strength was exactly what I needed for-"

"You didn't do anything"

".........huh?"

She opens her eyes to see that she indeed did not open the lid

"What!? Give it to me!"

She tries once again this time with both hands and her mouth with no avail and starts gritting her teeth and sweating

"Are you OK power? You don't need to do it if you c-"

"No! I will conquer this can!"

At this point it's a personal matter so she makes a blood axe and tries to slice the can open only for her mouth to drop when nothing changes

"W-WHAT!"

"OK that's actually weird"

She then makes some smaller blood spears and starts stabbing the can only for it to not work too

She eventually gives up and calls denji, when even he in his chainsaw man form can't open or hurt the can at all of you start running to aki thinking it's a devil or something

Himeno

"Can I get a kiss if I do it?~"

You sigh but giggle a bit at her flirting and hand her the can

Himeno has opened so many beer cans in her life and even if this isn't the same it's still a can so it should still be no problem for her

........except it is

"Huh?"

"What's wrong?"

"The can's not opening"

"Really? Weird"

"Yeah"

She checks to see if she's accidentally using her ghost devil powers but no, she can still touch the can, it's just not opening for some reason

She tries again but gives up pretty quickly when she realizes nothing's working

"I give up, i need a drink"

"That easily?"

"Call aki if you really wanna open it"

"Alright I guess"

".............can I still get the kiss though?"

Kobeni higashiyama

"H-huh? You want me to open it?"

She's a bit confused on why you asked her specifically, she's really not that strong after all, definitely not stronger than you, but she did have to open a ton of cans for her job so maybe it's because of that

"O-oh, sorry it seems stuck"

"That's fine, I'll just not drink it"

"N-no, let me try more"

She tries again using a napkin but even that fails and she starts getting irritated

She really wants to open this can for you. What kind of girlfriend would she be if she couldn't do something that simple for her love? But she also really doesn't want to ask anyone for help and doesn't have enough money to buy you another one so she has no choice: she has to open this can

She takes out her knife and tries to slice the lid open but somehow that still doesn't work

At this point she's sweating and panicking and super embarrassed so she eventually gives up and gives you the can back while blushing

"I-i'm so sorry y/n"

"Don't apologize it's fine, no one can open that anyway"

"R-really?"

"Yeah I gave it power and she was so mad about it"

"Hehe, t-that makes me feel a bit better"

Quanxi

She just nods silently and takes the can from your hands

Not only is quanxi one of the most powerful devil hunters there is she is also a very physically strong and muscular woman so opening cans and jars for the people she loves is something she happily does almost daily and with ease

"Hm?"

"Is everything OK?"

"........don't worry, I got it"

She now tries again this time using her full force and it still doesn't budge so she puts it on the table and just glares at it before getting up

".....quanxi, where are you going?"

"I'll open the can"

".........that's not what I was......nevermind"

Whenever she comes back you notice she has her swords with her which you're very worried about

"W-what are you doing?"

"Opening the can for you, stand back"

One single slash from her Dao is enough to kill a devil, so why the heck is this can still not only intact but open

"..................."

At this point the fiends come in the room because or the noise and each of them try to open the can still failing

"Girls please stop I'll just get-"

"No, you asked for this can to open and so we'll open it!"

"Halloween!"

At a certain point quanxi stops them and still stands in front of the can glaring at it

"............"

You see her about to take off her eyepatch and turn into crossbow form so you hug her and she calls down.......still glaring at the can though

Asa mitaka/yoru

"Huh? Uh......sure ok"

Asa knows she's not strong, but she at least hopes to be strong enough to open a soda can especially since it's for you

The more she struggles, the more embarrassed and red she gets, she seriously can't even open a can!?

"It's fine if you can't I can just get another one"

Asa sighs and blushes even more at you smiling at her before starting to put the can back on the table

"Thank you, seriously though what's that can ma-"

"You really can't even open a soda can for y/n? How more pathetic can you get?"

".......ok no I'll do it"

Normally, she'd just brush off one of yoru's many insults, but for some reason, this time, she couldn't just let it go, simply because it was for you, the person who asa wakes up every day thankful to have in her life. You make her life worth living by just loving her she CAN open a soda can for you

.....Yeah, it turns out she can't, when she eventually gave up she put her head on the table incredibly embarrassed and upset

"See? Pathetic"

"If you're so sure of yourself then you try it!"

"That's what I was going to do in the first place"

Asa raises her head and you see that now she has scars on her face and her eyes are ringed

"Hey yoru, wanna try too?"

"Obviously, it's just asa who's weak, how hard to open can a soda can b-"

The words die in her mouth as she tries to open the lid but can't

"What the-"

She tries again but nothing works and now she's pissed off

Sure, yoru might have gotten over what happened with chainsaw man. Thanks in no small part to you, but she can't withstand a humiliation like this, especially because it's in front of the only human she actually cares about. She's the war horseman for crying out loud, she rejoices in killing humans and bloodshed and she can't open a soda can

She continues until she's breathing heavily and her face is completely red but still won't give up

"..........hey-"

"Before you ask, no you can't go and turn a random human into a weapon to help you"

".......dammit"

She tries using her powers on the can itself though and it still doesn't work somehow, which causes her to rage completely now

She kicks and steps on the can angrily while insulting it, she eventually runs out of energy and sets down on the table in the same position her host was before

Fami

"O-oh me? S-sure, g-give it here"

Her strength is one of the very few things fami is confident in. She's a horseman of apocalypse so she's always been strong and using that strength to protect you or help you is a great way to show her love for you

"H-huh? W-what?"

"Is everything OK?"

"Y-yeah don't worry.....i-i got it"

Her smile fades faster than ever as she tries again and nothing changes, this has never happened before why is it happening in front of you now?

"....uh.....fami..."

"N-no y/n i-i can do it"

Tears start coming out of her eyes as she tries pulling the lid off with her teeth

"Fami, please stop I'll just get another one"

"*sniffles n-no please i-i'm close *sniffles*"

Eventually her older sister sees her struggling and asks if she can help but fami refuses because she doesn't want to embarrass herself even more

When she understands she can't do it she just starts crying uncontrollably

"Waaaaaahhhh!! I'm sorry y/n *sniffles* I'm so useless I can't even open a can for you!"

"I-it's ok fami, everything's all right"

After that you have to comfort her a lot.... and she starts tearing up every time she sees a soda can

Death/ (D) fami

She puts down her won food and wordlessly takes the can

Death knows she's the right woman/devil for the job. not only is she literally the strongest devil ever she also has to have opened thousands of soda cans with how many times she goes to fast food restaurants

She tries, thinking this is going to go as easily as the other countless times but is happy on the inside as she gets to do this for you

".......death are you sure you've got it? You've been going on for like 5 minutes"

"......oh"

She didn't even notice it had been that long, since she was focused on only opening the can. When she tries again this time at full force she starts noticing that it's actually not working

Her expression still doesn't change however, she's determined to do this for you, she tries for another 5 to 10 minutes before realizing how weird this actually is

This girl could singlehandedly wipe out the entirety of humanity if she wanted to (not that she'd ever actually do it) but now she's struggling to open a soda can

"............"

"It's fine if you don't-"

"No, I just need some help"

"Wha-"

You suddenly see the falling devil just appear behind her and you can't believe she actually summoned a primal devil to open a can

"What do you need of me, mademoiselle?"

"Open this soda can"

"............pardon?"

Falling devil tries opening it with her many arms, but it still doesn't work, then she uses her powers on it, but even while falling under pressure that would kill a human....the soda can doesn't budge at all

Death unsummons falling devil and looks at the can actually mad at this point, it's the first time you've seen her with anything resembling anger on her face

"........I can buy you more later right?"

"....y-yeah why?"

You see her summoning the guillotine devil this time and just sigh, glad that you decided to get take out because she would have totally done this in public too

When even guillotining it doesn't work death is fed up with the can and just throws it out of the window and resumes eating

The next day she brought you like 15 different soda cans to apologize

"You know you really didn't have to do this right?"

"I failed you, this is my apology"

"It's really nothing but I know you're not going to return this so....."

You hand her one of the cans

"Let's just split these"

Death just stared at the can in your hands with even more rage

"No, please keep them to yourself"

You're very shocked as this is the first time she has ever refused any food or drink

".....o-ok"

.......did a soda can manage to scare the death devil?

215 notes · View notes

mrs-delaney · 3 months ago

Text

Hide | The Set-Up | Chapter One

Summary: Joe Burrow never liked talk shows, but a post-Super Bowl appearance on The Tonight Show was part of the job. He expected scripted questions, football talk, and a few forced laughs with Jimmy Fallon. What he didn’t expect? A surprise guest—Riley Carter, the lead singer of The Rambles, a band he’s quietly admired for years. A harmless game of “Love Match” turns into national TV humiliation when Joe picks Riley over every celebrity presented—only to have her walk out onto the stage moments later. What started as his worst nightmare might just turn into something much more interesting.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x Riley Carter (OC)

Word Count: 5.6k

Requested: No | Yes

Warnings: Mild language, talk show ambush, secondhand embarrassment, and undeniable chemistry

This story is ONLY posted on Wattpad and Tumblr under miss_delaney. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen. Do NOT copy, repost, translate, or distribute my work on any other platform. Please respect my writing.

Want to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or message me! 💕

Requests: Open

Author’s Note: And so it begins! I wanted to set the stage for Joe and Riley’s story with an unforgettable (and hilariouslyuncomfortable) first meeting. Their chemistry is immediate but unexpected, and this talk show moment will definitely be something neither of them forgets. Buckle up—this is only the beginning! Let me know what you think! 😊💛

The air in the greenroom was stuffy, the leather couch sticking to Joe's palms as he shifted uncomfortably. A half-empty bottle of water sat on the glass table in front of him, condensation pooling around its base. He glanced at his phone—thirty minutes until showtime. Thirty minutes until he would be paraded out in front of a live studio audience like some kind of trained animal, expected to perform and charm and be witty.

He knew when he signed up to be a professional football player that there would be specific commitments he'd be uncomfortable with. At the top of that list? Talk show interviews. Yet, here he was, just weeks after his team's heartbreaking Super Bowl loss, sitting under the fluorescent lights of a Tonight Show greenroom, mentally preparing himself to face Jimmy Fallon and millions of viewers.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, carefully styled by the show's hair and makeup team despite his protests that he "looked fine." In his navy blue varsity-style sweater with white collar, dark blue pants, and silver Converse sneakers, he felt more comfortable than he would have in a suit and tie. He liked to keep things casual, understated—nothing that would draw unnecessary attention. His personal style was cool and effortlessly stylish, and thankfully his stylist had allowed him to wear his own clothes rather than forcing him into formal attire for this appearance.

"Ten minutes, Mr. Burrow," a production assistant called, poking her head through the door with a clipboard pressed to her chest. "Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"I'm good," Joe said, forcing a polite smile. "Thanks."

As the door closed again, he exhaled heavily. Why had he agreed to this? It wasn't that he disliked Jimmy—by all accounts, the host was a decent guy. But there was something about these talk shows that made Joe feel exposed, vulnerable. Football was different. On the field, he was in control. He knew the plays, understood the game, could anticipate the defense's moves. But talk shows? They were unpredictable. And Joe Burrow didn't do unpredictable if he could help it.

His phone buzzed with a text from his mom: *Good luck tonight! We're all watching!*

Great. More pressure.

The same PA appeared again, this time with more urgency. "Mr. Burrow? We're ready for you."

Joe stood, straightening his sweater and taking one last deep breath. Game face on. Just like preparing to take the field, except the arena was a brightly lit stage, and the opponents were awkward questions and his own social anxiety.

As he followed the PA through the maze of corridors, the dull roar of the audience grew louder. The studio was packed, every seat filled, the energy palpable even from backstage. A makeup artist rushed over for a final touch-up, dabbing powder on his forehead with practiced efficiency.

"You're on after the monologue," the stage manager explained, positioning Joe just offstage. "When Jimmy introduces you, just walk out, wave to the audience, and take a seat on the couch."

Joe nodded, his throat suddenly dry. Simple enough.

The show's theme music blared, and Joe could see Jimmy bound onto the stage, his trademark enthusiasm drawing immediate cheers from the audience. As the host launched into his monologue, Joe tried to focus on his breathing, on the solid ground beneath his feet, on anything but the fact that in a few minutes, he'd be on national television.

The audience's laughter ebbed and flowed with Jimmy's jokes, a few about the Super Bowl making Joe wince internally. Still too soon.

"Our first guest tonight is one of the NFL's brightest stars," Jimmy was saying now, his voice cutting through Joe's thoughts. "Quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, please welcome Joe Burrow!"

The audience erupted, and Joe stepped onto the stage, the bright lights momentarily blinding him. He raised a hand in greeting, mustering a smile as he crossed to Jimmy, exchanged a brief handshake and half-hug, then settled onto the couch.

"Joe Burrow!" Jimmy exclaimed, as if they were old friends reuniting after years apart. "Man, it's great to have you here. How are you feeling after the Super Bowl? You guys played an incredible game."

And so it began—the usual questions about the season, about his teammates, about his plans for next year. Joe fell into the familiar rhythm of athlete interviews, giving just enough to seem engaged without revealing anything too personal. Always polite, occasionally funny, but careful. Measured. The Joe Burrow the public knew and the media expected.

Jimmy was mid-monologue when Joe realized this was going to be far worse than he thought. The host's expression shifted into something mischievous, a clear signal that the carefully structured interview was about to veer off course.

"So, Joe, we're going to play a little game tonight. I think you're going to love it. Or hate it. I don't know—you tell me after."

Joe's shoulders tensed, his fingers curling imperceptibly into the couch cushion beneath him. This wasn't part of the prep his publicist had gone over. "Uh... okay?" he managed, already feeling a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck.

"It's called Love Match. It's simple—I'll show you two people, and you pick who you'd rather hang out with. No pressure, totally harmless."

The audience tittered with anticipation, and Joe felt his pulse quicken. He hated these kinds of segments—the ones designed to create viral moments at the expense of guests' dignity. But there was no graceful way to refuse now, not with the cameras rolling and millions watching.

Joe wiped his palms on his jeans, the denim rough against his clammy hands. He was already regretting saying yes to this interview, already calculating how he'd face his teammates after whatever embarrassment was about to unfold. "Sure, let's do it," he muttered, earning knowing laughter from the audience who clearly recognized his discomfort.

Jimmy grinned and turned to the screen behind them, clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, first up—Bella Hadid or Riley Carter?"

Joe blinked, the name triggering an immediate reaction he couldn't control. Riley Carter. The name hit him like a freight train, derailing his carefully maintained composure. He knew her. Well, he didn't know her, but he knew *of* her. The lead singer of The Rambles, a band he'd been following since his college days. Her voice had been the soundtrack to some of his most significant moments—draft night, his first NFL win, even the quiet moments on the team bus when he needed to center himself.

It was more than just appreciating her music. There was something about her that had always caught his attention. The raw honesty in her lyrics, the way she carried herself in interviews, a confidence that seemed effortless and real. She was stunning too—blonde hair that fell in perfect waves, piercing blue eyes that always seemed to be looking right through you, a smile that could light up a room. It was a crush he'd been keeping to himself for a long time, not even sharing it with teammates during those late-night conversations when everyone else revealed their celebrity fantasies.

"Uh..." He shifted in his seat, stalling as his mind raced. He could lie, pick Bella Hadid like most guys probably would. The safe choice. The expected answer. But something made him hesitate. "Riley Carter," he finally said, the name feeling strange to say out loud in this context.

The audience cheered, and Jimmy's eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. "Interesting! Alright, Riley Carter or Zendaya?"

Joe gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he realized he was now committed to this path. "Riley Carter."

"Oh, wow, she's on a roll!" Jimmy teased, clearly enjoying Joe's discomfort. "Alright, Riley or Kendall Jenner?"

Joe shook his head and smiled to himself, resigned to his fate. If he was going to be embarrassed on national TV, he might as well be honest. "Still Riley."

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, feigning shock as the audience's cheers grew louder. "Well, folks, I think we've found the most loyal man in Hollywood. Joe, it seems like Riley Carter's got your full attention!"

Joe tried to laugh it off, though he could feel the heat rising in his face, the telltale warmth that he knew meant he was turning crimson. "Yeah, I guess so," he managed, trying to seem casual despite the fact that his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

Jimmy glanced offstage with a sly grin that immediately set off alarm bells in Joe's head. That look—he'd seen it before on other talk shows. It was the look that preceded the ambush, the surprise that made for great TV but terrible personal experiences.

"Well, that's convenient because—surprise—I happen to know Riley personally. In fact, I invited her to the show tonight. Everyone, please welcome Riley Carter!"

The audience roared, a wall of sound that seemed to fade into the background as Joe's world narrowed to a single point. This couldn't be happening. His private admiration—not even admitted to his closest friends—was about to be thrust into the spotlight in the most mortifying way possible.

And then she was there, emerging from the wings, walking toward him with the easy grace he'd only seen in music videos and concert footage. Riley appeared from backstage, looking effortlessly stunning in a white silk crop top and high-waisted flared pants that accentuated her figure perfectly. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, framing a face that was even more beautiful in person than on screen. The studio lights caught the subtle highlights in her hair, the gleam of her simple gold earrings, and the soft pink of her lips.

Joe's stomach dropped, a physical sensation like missing a step on a staircase. Pure, unadulterated panic coursed through him as the distance between them closed. He shot to his feet, operating on autopilot, his mom's voice in his head reminding him to stand when a woman entered the room.

She approached with a smile that seemed genuinely warm rather than the practiced expression of a celebrity forced into an uncomfortable situation. Up close, Joe noticed details he'd never been able to see on screens—the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the striking blue of her eyes, the small scar near her left eyebrow.

"Hi, how are you?" she asked as she leaned in for a quick hug, her voice softer in person than he'd expected.

The scent of her perfume—something subtle and warm, like vanilla and bergamot—briefly surrounded him as they embraced. Joe's brain short-circuited, processing the surreal reality that Riley Carter—*the* Riley Carter—was hugging him on national television after he'd just admitted to basically having a crush on her.

"Good. Huge fan, by the way," Joe managed, his voice slightly shaky, aware of how utterly inadequate the words were. *Huge fan*? Could he sound any more like a cliché?

"Thanks," Riley said warmly, showing no sign that she found this situation as bizarre as he did. She took her seat on the couch beside him, close enough that he could see the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist, could smell that subtle perfume again.

Jimmy clapped his hands together, clearly thrilled with the success of his surprise. "Alright, Joe, Riley, this is already off to a great start. Riley, I hope you don't mind, but I've been telling Joe all about you."

Riley turned to Joe, her brow raised playfully, a hint of mischief in her striking blue eyes. "Oh, really? Should I be worried?"

Joe chuckled nervously, hyperaware of the cameras capturing every expression, every movement. "Probably."

Jimmy laughed, leaning forward in his chair. "Joe's been very consistent tonight, Riley. Picked you over everyone. Kendall Jenner? Nope. Zendaya? Nope. It was Riley Carter every time. You're basically his MVP."

Joe fought the urge to slide down into the couch and disappear. This was beyond embarrassing—it was excruciating. Having his private thoughts broadcast not just to an audience but to the very person those thoughts centered on made him want to evaporate on the spot.

But Riley seemed to take it all in stride, grinning as she looked over at Joe with what appeared to be genuine amusement rather than discomfort. "Well, loyalty is important, right?"

Her easy response gave Joe a lifeline, something to grasp onto in this sea of mortification. "That's what I was going for," he replied, a small smile finding its way to his lips despite the circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.

Jimmy leaned forward, his voice dropping as if sharing a secret, though of course his microphone ensured the entire studio audience—and millions of viewers—could hear every word. "You know, Riley, Joe told me earlier that this is his worst nightmare."

Joe groaned, running a hand down his face, wishing he'd never confided that particular fear to the host during their pre-show chat. "Jimmy, don't do this to me," he pleaded, but there was no stopping the train now.

Riley laughed, the sound light and musical, clearly enjoying his discomfort but not in a malicious way. "Oh, really? And why's that, Joe?"

He glanced at her, his cheeks tinged red, feeling like he was back in high school being called on in class when he hadn't done the reading. "Uh... because now I look like a total idiot?"

"You're doing fine," she said, her voice soft and reassuring in a way that suggested she understood exactly how uncomfortable he was.

Jimmy clapped his hands, clearly pleased with the chemistry unfolding before him. "See? She thinks you're doing fine. That's progress! Alright, we've got to take a quick commercial break, but don't go anywhere—we'll be back with more from Joe Burrow and Riley Carter!"

As the red light on the main camera switched off, signaling they were no longer live, Joe exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly with the temporary reprieve. The studio lights remained bright, the audience still watching expectantly, but at least they had a moment's pause from the national spotlight.

The camera crew moved into position for the commercial break, adjusting equipment and checking angles. Jimmy turned his attention to a producer who had approached with a clipboard, leaving Joe and Riley with a moment to themselves on the couch.

Riley leaned slightly toward Joe, her voice low enough that only he could hear. "So, this is your worst nightmare, huh?"

The proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume, the direct eye contact—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Joe exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You have no idea," he admitted, surprised by his own honesty.

She laughed softly, the sound more intimate now that it wasn't performative for an audience. "You know, I think it's sweet. I mean, you didn't know this was going to happen, right?"

Joe met her eyes, grateful for the understanding he found there. "Not at all. I thought I was just playing a dumb game for laughs. I didn't think you'd actually be here."

"Well, surprise," she said, smiling, a genuine warmth in her expression that made his chest tighten strangely. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Joe shrugged, a small grin tugging at his lips despite himself. "It could be worse. You could've said I was weird or something."

Riley tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes studying his face in a way that made him feel simultaneously exposed and seen. "Weird? No. Nervous? Definitely. But it's kind of endearing."

The compliment caught him off guard, and Joe chuckled, running a hand through his carefully styled hair, probably ruining the makeup team's hard work. "Yeah, well, it's not every day you get ambushed by your celebrity crush on national TV."

The words escaped before he could filter them, his usual carefully maintained guard momentarily lowered by the surreal situation and Riley's disarming presence. As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back, stuff the admission back into the private corner of his mind where it belonged.

Riley blinked, caught off guard by his honesty, before her lips curled into a slow smile that transformed her entire face. Something playful and pleased sparked in her blue eyes. "Celebrity crush, huh?"

Joe's face turned bright red, the heat spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked away, focusing on a random spot on the stage floor. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Just a little," she teased, her voice laced with amusement but no judgment. "But don't worry—I'm flattered."

Before Joe could respond, Jimmy returned, clapping his hands together with renewed energy. "Alright, we're back, folks! Let's jump right back into it!"

The red light on the camera blinked on, and just like that, they were live again. Joe straightened slightly, trying to regain his composure as the interview continued.

The rest of the segment flowed more easily than Joe could have anticipated. The initial shock had worn off, and there was something about Riley's presence—the way she effortlessly filled silences, laughed at the right moments, and occasionally glanced at him with what seemed like genuine interest—that made the experience almost... enjoyable?

Riley talked about her new album and upcoming tour with her band, her passion evident in the way she leaned forward, hands animated as she described the creative process. Joe found himself watching her more than he should, captivated by the little details—the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking, the slight crinkle around her eyes when she smiled genuinely.

When the conversation turned to him, Joe surprised himself by opening up about his plans for the offseason, including a long-overdue vacation in the Bahamas with his family. Normally, he kept such details vague, offering just enough to satisfy the question without revealing anything too personal. But something about the night—maybe the fact that his carefully constructed wall had already been breached—made it easier to share.

Despite his earlier nerves, Joe found himself relaxing more as the conversation went on. Riley laughed at his jokes, even the bad ones, and they shared a few lingering glances that left him wondering if she might actually be into him too—a possibility so far-fetched he could barely allow himself to consider it.

By the time the segment ended, Joe felt almost disappointed. He'd survived what he thought would be a nightmare, only to find it had transformed into something unexpectedly pleasant.

Jimmy stood to thank them both, his expression satisfied—he'd gotten exactly the kind of segment producers dream about. "Alright, let's give it up for Joe Burrow and Riley Carter, everyone! Thanks for being such good sports tonight!"

"Thanks for having us," Riley said with a bright smile, the picture of graciousness.

Joe, finding a bit of his usual humor despite the circumstances, added, "Yeah, this was... something. But I think I survived."

Jimmy laughed, already angling for a follow-up story. "You did great, Joe. Just make sure I get invited to the wedding someday."

The audience roared with approval, and Joe shook his head, laughing despite himself. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

As the cameras stopped rolling and the show moved to its next segment, Riley turned to him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Joe braced himself for the letdown, for the polite but distant thank you and goodbye that would signal the end of this strange interaction.

Instead, she surprised him. "See you backstage?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of hopefulness that sent a rush of something warm through his chest.

Joe nodded, trying not to look too eager. "Yeah. Definitely."

As they both rose and made their way off the stage, Joe felt a strange mixture of emotions—lingering embarrassment from the ambush, adrenaline from the live performance, and something else. Something that felt dangerously like hope.

Joe was a private person; this was something he worked very hard to maintain. Despite his career, he tried to keep his life as normal as possible. He carefully separated Joe Burrow the quarterback from Joe Burrow the person. He limited his social media presence, declined most endorsement deals that would put him in the spotlight more than necessary, and cultivated a small, tight-knit circle of trusted friends.

So, as he left the stage after what was probably the most humiliating interview of his life, Joe was crossing his fingers that Riley wasn't just pretending not to be weirded out by the whole thing. If she was weirded out, he'd have to retire immediately, move to a remote island, and never show his face in public again.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but he was certain of one thing: he would never agree to another talk show again. No matter how much his agent insisted it was "good for his brand."

The backstage area was a maze of corridors, production equipment, and busy staff members. Joe nodded politely to various crew members as he made his way through the hallways, his signature navy varsity sweater with white collar and blue pants making him easily recognizable despite his attempts to slip by unnoticed. He grabbed his duffel bag from where his assistant had left it backstage, slung it over his shoulder, and considered his next move.

The logical thing would be to head straight back to his hotel, call his agent to complain about the ambush, and try to forget the whole embarrassing episode. But the thought of leaving without talking to Riley again felt wrong somehow.

As Joe rounded a corner, he spotted a sign with Riley's name on a dressing room door at the end of the hallway. He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Inside, he was a mess of nerves and uncertainty, but outwardly, he maintained the same cool composure he carried onto the field before big games. It was a skill he'd perfected years ago - never let them see you sweat.

Meanwhile, back on the stage, Riley turned to Jimmy with a playful but pointed glare as soon as the cameras were off.

"Alright, Jimmy, what the hell was that?" she asked, crossing her arms with a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated.

Jimmy laughed, throwing up his hands in mock defense, his expression utterly unrepentant. "Hey, don't blame me! I wasn't planning for things to go that well. I just thought it would be a fun little game—Joe's the one who went all-in on picking you every single time."

Riley shook her head, clearly flustered but unable to maintain real anger at the host's matchmaking attempt. "I mean, yeah, but still. You didn't warn me this was going to turn into a matchmaking ambush on live television."

Jimmy leaned in with a knowing grin, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Come on, admit it—you were into it. He was practically blushing the entire time! And don't think I didn't notice the way you kept sneaking glances at him."

The observation hit closer to home than Riley was comfortable acknowledging. She'd been genuinely charmed by Joe's obvious nervousness, by the unfiltered honesty that had slipped out when he admitted to his crush. It was refreshing—most men she met in the industry were all polished lines and practiced confidence. Joe's authenticity had caught her off guard in the best possible way.

"Jimmy," Riley groaned, wanting to end the conversation before the host could see too much in her reaction. "I am never coming on this show again."

"Oh, sure," he teased, clearly not believing her for a second. "Just make sure to thank me in your wedding toast."

Riley rolled her eyes, already heading for the door, but she couldn't quite suppress the smile that threatened to break through. "Goodbye, Jimmy."

"Goodbye, Riley! Love you!" Jimmy called after her with a laugh that followed her down the corridor.

As soon as Riley stepped into her dressing room, she was ambushed by her publicist, Jesse, who had been watching the segment on the monitor and was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Riley! Oh my God, that was amazing!" Jesse exclaimed, her dark curls bobbing as she gestured enthusiastically. "The way you two kept sneaking glances at each other? And the blushing? I mean, seriously, the entire audience was eating it up!"

Riley groaned, collapsing onto the plush couch as she covered her face with her hands, the cool metal of her rings pressing against her warm skin. "Please tell me it wasn't as bad as it felt."

"Bad? Are you kidding me? That was the stuff rom coms are made of," Jesse said, sitting on the armrest of the couch with a dramatic flourish, her tailored pantsuit crinkling slightly. "You were charming, he was adorable—it was perfect. Social media is already buzzing, by the way. 'Riley Carter and Joe Burrow' is trending."

Riley peeked out from behind her hands, narrowing her eyes at her publicist and longtime friend. "Seriously? That fast?"

"Uh, yeah." Jesse held up her phone, the screen illuminated with a flood of tweets and Instagram posts. "The second he turned bright red when you walked out, it was over for him. Everyone loves it. But forget Twitter for a second—did you see the way he looked at you? Riley, the man is smitten."

The thought sent a strange flutter through Riley's stomach, one she hadn't felt in a long time. She'd met plenty of attractive men over the years—fellow musicians, actors, models—but there was something about Joe Burrow's unassuming charm, the way he seemed almost reluctant to be in the spotlight despite his career, that intrigued her.

"Oh my God, Jesse, stop," Riley said, half-laughing, half-groaning as she pushed herself up from the couch.

Jesse smirked, smoothing her blazer as she stood. "Alright, fine. I'll stop. But only if you march down to his dressing room right now and give him your number."

Riley's eyes widened, a rush of unexpected nerves flooding her system. "What? No. That's not happening."

Despite her words, a part of her considered it. What was the harm? If nothing else, she'd have a funny story about the time she gave her number to Joe Burrow after Jimmy Fallon tried to set them up on national television.

"Okay, fine," Jesse said, crossing her arms with a determined expression that Riley recognized all too well. "Then he can come here. Either way, this is happening, because the energy between you two was insane, and if you don't do something about it, I will."

Riley opened her mouth to argue, to tell Jesse that she was being ridiculous, that whatever chemistry the audience thought they saw was just the product of an awkward situation handled with mutual grace. But before she could get the words out, there was a soft knock at the door.

The sound sliced through the room like a thunderclap despite its gentleness. Both women froze, staring at the door as if it might reveal its secrets without being opened.

Jesse's eyes lit up, and she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Holy shit. What if it's him?"

"Stop," Riley hissed, suddenly feeling very aware of how fast her heart was beating. She sat frozen for a moment, her stomach doing somersaults, caught between hoping it was Joe and hoping it was literally anyone else.

"What are you waiting for? Go open it!" Jesse urged, waving her toward the door with frantic gestures.aving her toward the door with frantic gestures.

Taking a deep breath to calm her inexplicably racing heart, Riley stood, smoothed her hands down her pants, and crossed to the door. Her fingers hesitated on the handle for just a second before she pulled it open.

Standing in the hallway was Joe Burrow, his navy blue varsity-style sweater with white collar, dark blue pants, and white Converse sneakers making him look effortlessly cool. His stance exuded quiet confidence - one hand casually in his pocket, shoulders relaxed, posture perfect - the same easy self-assurance he displayed walking through stadium tunnels before games.

Inside, Joe's panic was at maximum level, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, thoughts racing through his mind at lightning speed. But none of this showed on his face. Outwardly, he maintained perfect composure, the same unflappable demeanor he'd perfected for high-pressure game situations. He leaned slightly against the doorframe with practiced nonchalance, his expression giving away nothing of the chaos inside.

"Hey," Joe said, his voice smooth and controlled, with just the right balance of confidence and warmth. "I, uh, just wanted to come by and say I'm really sorry about what happened out there. Jimmy kind of blindsided me."

Riley leaned against the doorframe, a small smile tugging at her lips. She was conscious of Jesse hovering just out of sight, no doubt drinking in every word of this interaction for future teasing material. "You don't have to apologize. Honestly, I thought it was kind of sweet."

Joe blinked, relief flickering across his face, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You did?"

"Yeah," she said, her smile widening. "I mean, it was awkward, sure, but in a cute way. You handled it way better than I would've."

Joe laughed softly, glancing down at his shoes—expensive-looking leather loafers that somehow didn't seem like his style. "Well, I seriously considered running for the exit at one point."

Riley laughed, the sound genuine and unrestrained. "I believe that."

The moment felt lighter now, the initial awkwardness dissolving into something more comfortable. Joe looked back at her, a playful glint in his eye that she hadn't noticed during the interview. "So... I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that Jimmy was basically narrating my humiliation out there, but you seemed to handle it like a pro."

"Are you kidding? I was dying," Riley said, grinning. "You're the one who stayed cool the whole time."

Joe tilted his head, raising an eyebrow in a way that transformed his face, adding a mischievous quality to his otherwise clean-cut appearance. "Pretty sure sweating through my shirt doesn't count as staying cool."

Riley laughed again, shaking her head, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Fair enough. But still—it was fun. In a totally ridiculous way."

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, his smile softening into something more genuine, less performative. "Yeah, ridiculous sounds about right."

There was a beat of quiet between them, not awkward, but charged in the best way. The kind of silence that felt like its own conversation. Finally, Joe broke it, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"So, uh..." He hesitated, then let out a small laugh that betrayed his nervousness. "Man, I'm terrible at this."

"At what?" Riley asked, tilting her head, though she had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

Joe took a breath, his gaze meeting hers directly, a determined set to his jaw like he was facing down a defensive line rather than asking a simple question. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to grab dinner sometime. While you're in town, I mean."

Riley blinked, caught off guard but pleasantly surprised by his directness. She'd expected more hesitation, maybe even a non-committal suggestion to "keep in touch." "Dinner?"

"Yeah," Joe said quickly, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, his eyes searching her face for clues to her thoughts. "No pressure or anything. I just thought... if you're free, maybe we could—"

"I'd love that," Riley interrupted, her smile soft but genuine. The decision felt right, spontaneous in a way she'd been trying to embrace more lately.

Joe paused, clearly not expecting that answer, his eyes widening slightly. "Really?"

"Really," Riley said with a small laugh, amused by his surprise. Was it so hard to believe she'd want to have dinner with him?

Joe's face lit up, a smile spreading across his features that transformed him completely. Gone was the careful, controlled athlete from the interview; in his place was someone younger, more open, almost boyishly pleased. He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before handing it to her. "Here, put your number in?"

Riley took the phone with a nod, quickly typing in her number before handing it back to him. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, a brief moment of contact that shouldn't have registered but somehow did.

"There you go," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

Joe stared at the screen for a moment, her name now sitting there in his contacts, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. "Thanks. I, uh... I'll text you soon. For real."

"I'll hold you to that," Riley said with a smile that felt more genuine than most she'd given that day.

Joe hesitated for a moment, a brief internal debate playing out in his eyes, before he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. The gesture was sweet, unexpected, and over almost as soon as it began. "Goodnight, Riley."

The brief contact left a warm spot on her skin, and Riley found herself momentarily at a loss for words. "Goodnight, Joe," she managed, her voice warm despite her surprise.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Riley leaned back against it with a soft sigh, her lips curling into a smile she couldn't fight if she tried. Behind her, Jesse let out a gleeful squeal that Riley chose to ignore, too caught up in replaying the last few minutes in her head.

A talk show ambush, a mutual admission of attraction, and a dinner date—all in one night. Not at all how she'd expected her evening to go when she'd agreed to appear on The Tonight Show.

But as she touched her fingers lightly to the spot where Joe's lips had brushed her cheek, Riley found herself looking forward to what might come next.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction

260 notes · View notes

melancholy-of-nadia · 6 months ago

Text

heart on the window #1 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: You lost your job, got cheated on by your boyfriend, and had to give up your home—all in the span of a few weeks. Life hasn’t been kind lately, and just when it feels like you’ve hit rock bottom, your mom suggests an unexpected solution: move in with Seokjin, her friend’s son, who you vaguely remember as your annoying childhood rival. You haven't talked to him in like 15 YEARS. But begrudgingly, you agree, hoping for this to be a temporary fix, only to find yourself in a more complicated situation when you discover Seokjin has some dirty little secrets. As you attempt to rebuild your life under his roof, tensions rise, boundaries blur, and you’re forced to confront not only your messy circumstances but also your growing fascination with the man you thought you once knew. note: i actually didn't plan to drop something so soon post me starting my new job, but i had this mostly done but had to edit it up a bit. i've been debating to write a roommate au but couldn't decide which member, until i read @daegudrama's moon over flowers fic where jin is a "content creator" ;) also that jin dating simulator game that released yesterday was a perfect combo to add this with warnings: mild language, roommate! seokjin, stressed out reader, fluff, emotional vulnerability, jin being jin, jin's college frat buddy! namjoon cameo, drinking, implied sexual fantasizing, implied adult content live streaming (camwork), very descriptive solo mast*rbation, voyeurism, dirty talk drop date: November 28th, 2024, 9:00pm pst word count: 7.9k crossposted on ao3 here -> chapter 2

–

This is the state of affairs of your life at the moment. 1. Your boyfriend cheated on you. 2. You lost your job (not your fault) 3. Andddd now you have nowhere to live.

Well… it’s not that you don’t have a place to live, but you don’t want to crawl back to your parents' home after making a very big declaration when you were 18 that you would not be coming back to live there.

Now in your mid 20s (that are slowly creeping into your late 20s), you regret being that loud mouth girl that didn’t understand a damn thing at that age.

You should’ve been smarter about your decisions, starting with your taste in men. You should’ve listened to your friends warnings about Mingi.

You’re on the phone listening to your mom scolding you over your stupidity and lack of preparedness. You roll your eyes as you continue packing your items into boxes. She suggests you coming home, just as you figured she’d do, but you tell her that you feel bad about coming back at your big old age. “Then why don’t you live with Sunghee’s son?”

Who the fuck is Sunghee? “Who?”

“You don’t remember? The mother of the Korean boy you went to school with in elementary school?” You have no clue who she’s talking about. This is something that happened like 15 to 20 years ago. You can’t believe she remembers something so obscure. “I still don’t have a clue.”

“Agh, i’ll go search through some of your old elementary school photos and send you the photo of him later.” You hear some shuffling on her end, probably guessing she decided to get up and go look at your old photographs in the living room shelves.” But I recently saw his mom at a coffee shop! And she told me her son was living in the same city as you and was looking for a roommate. I mentioned that you were in some situation where you might need to move soon and she gave me her and her son’s contact info.”

“I see.”

“Oh wait, hold on, I found it.”

You hear her snap a photo and within a few seconds, you see the notification on your phone peep behind the call. You click on it and when you open the message, the memories of long ago have finally clicked.

“SEOKJIN?! That weird Korean kid?!”

“Weird kid?! You were friends with him, weren’t you?”

You scoff, “Barely, I mean, he and I were always at each other's necks because he always tried to one-up me in any way that he could.” Recalling those annoying memories from that era was making you get upset all over again. If it wasn’t him completing the times table tests at a faster speed than you, it was him showing off the Pokemon cards that you didn’t have. If it wasn’t that, it was him showing off his level and ranking in Maple Story. That damn nerd.

It’s been years, but the thought of it still urks you.

She sighs, “Well, if you’re willing to look past that at your big old age, this is probably the best option you have.”

Could you do that? Maybe. But knowing how he was back then, he’s probably grown to become some loser virgin shut-in with no life. Maybe he’s a tech bro, which would make this even worse now.

“I think about it, but this is probably the last resort option I’d even consider––”

Your mom cuts you off with a sharp sigh. "Fine, suit yourself. But you don’t have many options, do you? Just call him. He might have changed!"

You don’t answer her right away because the idea of calling Seokjin still doesn’t sit well with you. You’re stubborn, yes, but the universe has also served you a big slice of humble pie lately. It’s probably time to stop holding on to petty grudges from a childhood you barely even remember.

"Okay, okay, I’ll think about it," you mumble reluctantly.

The call ends after a few more half-hearted lectures from your mom about responsibility, and you toss your phone onto the bed, glaring at the contact info she forwarded. You can’t help but click on Seokjin’s number. There’s a photo of him attached to the contact, and for a moment, you don’t recognize him at all.

He’s…hot.

You blink. This cannot be the same kid you argued with over best MapleStory boss (Seokjin opting for Pink Bean, while you said Guardian Angel Slime). The Seokjin in this picture has flawless skin, sharp cheekbones, and full lips curled in a smirk that screams confidence. His hair is styled perfectly, and his outfit—a crisp button-up and a fitted blazer—makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine.

"No way," you mutter under your breath.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself typing his name into Instagram. It doesn’t take long to find his profile because he has mutual followers and a blue checkmark.

Huh? Why a blue checkmark?

…he has 200,000 followers?

Scrolling through his posts, you see screenshots of video games, clips of intense gameplay, and the occasional selfie with gaming equipment in the background. His captions are filled with gaming slang and memes you barely understand, but the sheer number of likes and comments on every post is undeniable.

One clip catches your eye—a short highlight from a League of Legends game where he pulls off an impressive play, and the comments are flooded with people hyping him up. “JinGod strikes again,” one comment reads. Another says, “Of course he’s the best mid-laner NA. Who else?”

Curious, you dive deeper and discover he has a Twitch account.

Oh! So he’s a streamer?!

Not just any streamer, either—he’s big enough to have sponsors and a massive following. His Twitch bio is straightforward:

Seokjin | Variety Streamer | Big laughs, bigger Ws | 1 PM KST

His stream schedule includes games like Elden Ring, Valorant, League of Legends, and even Getting Over It. There’s a link to his YouTube channel with clips of him absolutely demolishing opponents, mixed with funny moments of him raging at frustrating games.

You stare at your phone, trying to reconcile this version of Seokjin with the kid you used to fight over the last Uncrustables sandwich at lunch. This Seokjin is smooth, funny, and clearly thriving in a world you know nothing about. The comment section on his posts doesn’t help—it’s filled with people thirsting over his voice and his “handsome gamer vibes.”

“Great,” you mutter. “He grew up to be a famous nerd.”

You hate to admit it, but you’re impressed. And irritated.

Of course, Seokjin grew up to be that guy.

You put your phone down and stare at the pile of boxes scattered across your room. It’s not like you have a ton of other options, and if you’re being honest with yourself, the idea of moving in with Seokjin suddenly feels a lot less horrifying. Maybe he’s not the same insufferable kid you remember.

Or maybe he is, and this will be your worst nightmare.

Before you can chicken out, you force yourself to pick up your phone and dial the number your mom sent you. It rings twice before a deep, smooth voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. Is this…Seokjin Kim?” you ask awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of how unprepared you are for this conversation.

“Yes, who’s this?”

“It’s, um, [Y/N]. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

“[Y/N]?” he interrupts, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “The same [Y/N] who used to cry every time I beat her at anything in elementary school? Of course I remember.”

There it is! The Seokjin you cared about so deeply.

“I did not cry!” You roll your eyes, grip on the phone tightening.

He laughs, a low, rich sound that’s somehow both infuriating and…nice. “Sure, you didn’t. So, what’s up? Why are you calling me after, what, fifteen…twenty years? Where did you even get my num–”

You take a deep breath, already regretting this.

“My mom said your mom said you’re looking for a roommate.”

There’s a pause, and then he says, “...I am. Why?"

"I need a place..."

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, you think he’s going to hang up.

“Ah, well why do you need a roommate?” he asks finally, his tone careful, almost guarded. “I thought someone like you would have, I don’t know, a penthouse or something by now with the amazing corporate job my mom told me you have.”

Now this is going to suck to explain to him that whatever decent apartment you had earning a 72,000 salary at your old job is… nonexistent.

You blink at the assumption and quickly fumble for a response. “Haha, not quite. Most places are too expensive in this economy and I’m, uh, downsizing.”

“Downsizing?” he repeats, skepticism dripping from the word. “Why?”

“Because I want to focus on… minimalism.”

There’s silence on the other end, and you can practically hear him trying to decide whether to believe you.

Oh this was a terrible decision to make. Now he must think you’re a fool!

You glance around your room at the boxes piled with all the clutter you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away and wince. Minimalism is definitely not your thing.

“Minimalism,” he echoes, his tone still doubtful. “Right. Well, I do have an extra room, but I’m not sure you’ll like it here.”

Your grip tightens on the phone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Let’s just say I stay up late…,” he replies vaguely.

He must be referring to his streaming career that he isn’t telling you about right now. Wonder if he’s embarrassed by it.

“And I don’t really have time to deal with a high-maintenance roommate.”

The audacity! You did not ask to be attacked right now.

The jab makes your jaw tighten. “I’m not high-maintenance!”

“You sure? Last time I checked, you were the type to lose it over someone messing with your stuff.”

“That was elementary school! I’ve grown up since then.”

“Hmm,” he says, the sound light but still noncommittal. “We’ll see. Come check the place out tomorrow. Noon okay?”

You pause, thrown by his sudden shift. So he’s actually down with you as a roommate? Let’s not get high hopes up now. And if that doesn’t work, you know what? That’s okay. You will find a way… you hope.

“Yeah, that works.”

“Good,” he says, then hesitates before adding, “And bring references.”

“References?!”

“You can never be too careful,” he replies smoothly, but there’s a faint edge in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“Fine,” you snap, already planning to forge something if necessary.

“Great. See you then.”

The call ends before you can say anything else, leaving you staring at your phone. Something about the conversation feels… off. You can’t tell if it’s his hesitance, the cryptic mention of odd hours, or the subtle curiosity in his tone when he asked about your situation.

Or maybe it could be that it’s been around 15 years since you last talked to him so this entire situation feels like a fever dream.

Whatever it is, you’ll find out tomorrow. One way or another.

The next day arrives quicker than you’d like, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of a massive gated complex that looks like it was ripped straight out of a luxury lifestyle magazine. The building towers above you, a blend of sleek modern design and Mediterranean touches. Creamy stucco walls, wrought-iron accents, and lush greenery climbing up the sides of the buildings make it feel more like an exclusive resort than an apartment complex.

The entrance is lined with tall palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, and the scent of freshly mowed grass mingles with the faint floral fragrance from meticulously arranged garden beds. A stone fountain, its water cascading in perfect tiers, sits in the middle of a circular driveway where luxury cars are parked like they belong in an auto show.

You glance down at your outfit, a simple pair of light wash boyfriend jeans and a blue collared sweater, suddenly feeling underdressed.

“He’s living here?” you mutter under your breath, squinting at the address Seokjin sent you last night again to make sure you’re in the right place.

As you shift awkwardly with your bag slung over your shoulder, the wrought-iron gates buzz, and Seokjin steps through.

If the apartment complex wasn’t enough of a surprise, he certainly is.

Gone is the awkward kid from elementary school, and in his place is a man who seems perfectly at home in his expensive surroundings. Dressed casually in a fitted white shirt that clings to his broad shoulders and a pair of ripped jeans that look way too good on him, Seokjin walks toward you with an easy confidence. His dark hair is styled effortlessly, and even from a distance, you can see the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“[Y/N],” he calls out, his voice smooth and unmistakably amused.

You shift your bag again, suddenly hyper-aware of how you must look standing there in front of the grand gates. “Seokjin,” you reply, your voice coming out a little more clipped than you intended.

As he approaches, he looks you over, his smirk growing wider. “You’re on time. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because I’d be the last person you’d want to ask for help.”

“Desperate times,” you shoot back, ignoring the way his eyes glint in amusement.

Seokjin chuckles and gestures for you to follow him. “Come on, let’s see if you can survive the tour first.”

He leads you through the gates, where a polished path lined with greenery opens into the main courtyard. The sound of water trickling from another fountain fills the air, and you catch glimpses of the complex’s amenities—an infinity pool that looks like it belongs in a five-star hotel, cabanas with flowing white curtains, and a fitness center with floor-to-ceiling glass walls showcasing state-of-the-art equipment.

“This place is ridiculous,” you say under your breath, craning your neck to take it all in.

Seokjin glances back, his smirk still in place. “You’re not wrong. But wait until you see the inside.”

As you step into the lobby, you’re greeted by marble floors that gleam under the warm glow of chandeliers. The air smells faintly of citrus and something luxurious you can’t quite place, and the concierge greets Seokjin with a polite nod as he leads you to the elevator.

“You’re really living the dream here,” you say, unable to hide the note of disbelief in your voice.

He shrugs, leaning casually against the elevator wall. “With the jobs I have. it has its perks.”

The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, you catch a glimpse of the hallway—plush carpeting, modern art lining the walls, and soft lighting that makes everything feel impossibly serene.

“Ready?” he asks, stepping out and turning to look at you.

You hesitate for just a second before following him. “As I’ll ever be.”

Seokjin leads you down the hallway, his footsteps silent on the plush carpeting. You’re still processing how this guy, the same kid who used to shove his Pokémon cards in your face, is living in a place so fancy it makes your last apartment look like a broom closet.

“This is my place,” he says, stopping in front of a sleek black door with a digital keypad instead of a regular lock.

He types in the code, the lock clicks open, and he pushes the door wide to reveal his apartment.

Your first thought is that it’s huge.

The open-concept living room stretches out before you, its floor-to-ceiling windows flooding the space with natural light. The view outside is stunning—a panoramic sweep of the suburban city skyline and the sparkling blue ocean in the distance. Inside, the place is immaculate, every piece of furniture modern and deliberately chosen. The couch is a neutral gray sectional big enough to seat a small crowd, and there’s a massive TV mounted on the wall, flanked by minimalist shelves filled with what looks like expensive collectibles and gaming gear.

The kitchen is just as impressive, with marble countertops, a matching backsplash, and stainless steel appliances that gleam under the recessed lighting. A sleek island with barstools separates the kitchen from the living room, and you can’t help but wonder if this is where Seokjin spends his time making whatever expensive coffee you saw on his Instagram feed.

“Well?” he says, stepping inside and kicking off his sneakers near the door. “Don’t just stand there gawking.”

You snap your mouth shut and step in, slipping out of your shoes and placing them neatly next to his. The polished hardwood floors feel cool under your socks, and you hesitate, unsure where to stand.

“It’s… nice,” you say finally, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Seokjin chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got? Most people would be drooling right now.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he says, his grin widening. He crosses the room and gestures for you to follow. “Come on, let me show you where you’d be staying.”

He gestures toward the main living area, leading you down a short hallway on the left side of the apartment. “Your room would be down this hall,” he says, motioning for you to follow.

You step into the guest room as he opens the door. It’s spacious, with a queen-sized bed dressed in crisp white linens and a tall, minimalist dresser tucked against one wall. A sleek desk sits by a large window, which offers a view of the glittering cityscape and the ocean beyond. The soft gray walls and warm lighting make the room feel both modern and inviting.

“There’s an en-suite bathroom,” Seokjin says, pushing open another door to reveal a compact but luxurious bathroom with marble finishes and a rainfall shower.

“This is… nice,” you admit, turning to glance at him.

“Only the best,” he replies with a shrug, leaning against the doorframe. “Your hall is completely separate from mine. My room’s on the right side of the apartment, so you won’t have to worry about me invading your space.”

He nods toward the opposite end of the living room, where another hallway extends. “My room’s down there on your left. I have a bathroom in front of it too. Oh. and you’d also have the laundry room and a storage closet near your side.”

You glance back at the main living area, noting the layout. His section of the apartment seems just as private, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved that you won’t be tripping over each other.

“It’s set up pretty well for roommates,” you say carefully, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Glad you think so,” he replies, leaning casually against the doorframe. “This room used to belong to a friend of mine. He was here for an internship a little over a year ago, but he didn’t stay long. Left everything the way it is in case other friends needed a place to crash.”

“That makes sense,” you say, looking around the room again. “So why are you looking for a roommate now?”

Seokjin hesitates for just a second, his eyes flickering toward the window.

“Well, it would help with a couple of expenses,”

Your brow furrows. Expenses? You glance around the luxury apartment, mentally tallying the rent for a place like this. With what you know about Seokjin’s successful streaming career—and the office job your mom mentioned—he’s probably doing more than fine financially. But you decide not to press him on it.

Instead, you nod. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“And…” He trails off, his expression softening. Oh, so he is going to explain. “I don’t know, as I’m getting closer to thirty, I guess it might be nice to have someone around. Keeps things from feeling too…quiet.”

The honesty in his voice surprises you, and for a brief moment, you see a different side of him. One that’s not teasing or smug, but… a little lonely, maybe.

You nod again, this time more slowly. “Fair enough. This does happen as we age.”

Seokjin straightens, the moment of vulnerability passing as quickly as it came. “Anyway,” he says, his tone shifting back to its usual playful edge. “We can talk about me more later.”

He gestures for you to follow him back toward the living room.

“Why don’t we sit down and talk first?” he continues, his smirk fading slightly as his expression turns unreadable. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page before I let you move in.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. “Sure. Let’s talk.”

You follow him to the couch, your curiosity about his reasons for taking on a roommate still lingering in the back of your mind.

As you settle onto the couch, Seokjin sits across from you in a sleek armchair, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. It’s like he’s studying you, trying to piece together the situation without asking directly.

“So,” he begins, leaning forward slightly, “I already know you lost your job.”

You freeze. The words hang in the air, and your stomach sinks.

“How do you know that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “My mom told me earlier today. She’s the one who convinced me to even think about this arrangement.”

Heat floods your cheeks, embarrassment prickling at your skin. Of course. Your mom couldn’t just leave you well enough alone so she told his mom.

“Oh,”

“It’s not a big deal,” he says quickly, likely noticing your discomfort. “Things happen, you know? Besides, knowing you, you probably have some savings tucked away to cover rent, right?”

His words hit harder than he probably intended. Sure, you’ve got a little money saved, but it’s dwindling fast. The thought of handing over any of it feels like admitting defeat, a glaring reminder that you’re not where you thought you’d be at this point in your life.

As Seokjin keeps talking, his tone casual and reassuring, his words blur into the background. You’re trapped in your own thoughts, spiraling.

How did it come to this?

Broke, jobless, and now sitting here asking for a place to live like some helpless kid. You remember being so confident, so sure of yourself when you left home. You went through grueling years of studying finance in college and graduating. Now you’re here, facing the reality that you’re nowhere near where you thought you’d be.

It’s just so pathetic.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a tear slips down your cheek and lands on your hand.

Seokjin stops mid-sentence. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice cutting through your haze. “Are you… crying?”

You wipe at your face quickly, but it’s no use—the tears are falling faster now, and you’re too overwhelmed to stop them. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, mortified. “I don’t even know why—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupts, his voice gentle in a way you didn’t expect. He shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches you carefully. “It’s okay.”

You shake your head, still swiping at your cheeks. “This is so stupid. I just… I hate being in this position. It’s not where I thought I’d be, and it’s just…” You trail off, your voice breaking.

For a moment, Seokjin doesn’t say anything. Then, he reaches for a tissue box on the coffee table and holds it out to you.

“Here,” he says simply.

You take a tissue and dab at your face, trying to pull yourself together.

“I get it,” he says after a pause, his tone softer now. “Life doesn’t always go how we plan. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Really?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. But you’re not alone, okay? And if you need a place to figure things out, I’m offering you one. No strings, no judgment. But knowing how you’d feel bad for not paying back, just pitch in for some groceries or takeout every once in awhile.”

His words hit you harder than the tears, and you feel a small spark of hope for the first time in a while. Maybe, just maybe, this could work out.

You take a deep breath, the tissue in your hand crumpled from how tightly you’ve been gripping it. “Thanks, Seokjin,” you say, your voice shaky but genuine.

He gives you a small smile, his usual teasing edge softened. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just don’t leave your dirty dishes in the sink, and we’ll be fine.”

A faint laugh escapes you, surprising even yourself. “I think I can manage that.”

He stands up, stretching his arms overhead before motioning toward the hallway. “If you need help with your stuff, just let me know.”

You nod, feeling a little more grounded. “I will.”

The next morning, you’re standing outside your old apartment building, the last of your boxes stacked neatly by the curb. Before leaving the day before, you did ask Jin if he could help you move some of your stuff, and he somehow kindly agreed.

You’ve barely had time to double-check everything when you hear the rumble of a truck pulling up. Turning toward the sound, you see a sleek gray Ford truck roll to a stop in front of you.

Seokjin hops out of the driver’s seat, dressed casually in a lavender hoodie and dark wash jeans, looking every bit the picture of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. On the passenger side, another guy climbs out, taller and broader than Jin, with dimples flashing in a warm smile.

Woah, he’s kind of cute.

“Morning,” Seokjin calls, striding toward you. He gestures to the other man. “This is Namjoon. He’s here to help out with the heavier things.”

“Hi [Y/N],” Namjoon says, his voice deep but friendly as he extends a hand. “Jin told me you needed an extra set of hands, so here I am.”

You shake his hand, still a little taken aback. “Thanks. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.”

“He’s an old college buddy,” Seokjin explains, leaning against the side of the truck. “We were in the same professional fraternity back in the day. That’s how we met.”

Namjoon chuckles, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Yeah, Jin somehow convinced me to join since we were floormates. Said it would look good on my resume. Ended up being one of the best decisions I made, though. The networking was great, and we had a lot of fun.”

“Too much fun,” Seokjin adds with a smirk. “I think we spent half our time organizing events and the other half trying to keep Namjoon from breaking stuff.”

Namjoon groans, his dimples deepening as he laughs. “Okay, that was one time—and it wasn’t even my fault!”

You find yourself smiling at their bickering and brief memory despite the stress of the day. Their banter feels easy and natural, a dynamic that’s comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. It’s nice to hear Jin had a pretty cool college experience.

“Well,” Namjoon says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get started. The sooner we load this up, the sooner we can get everything settled.”

Between the three of you, the boxes are loaded into the truck in no time. Namjoon lifts the heavier ones like they’re nothing, while Seokjin teases him about showing off. You carry the smaller items, grateful for their help and relieved that the process is moving quickly.

Once the last box is secured in the truck bed, Seokjin glances over at you. “Ready to head out?”

You nod, brushing your hands off on your jeans. “Yeah. I’ll follow behind you guys with my car.”

As your car and his truck pulls away from your old apartment, you find yourself feeling a little lighter. It’s still hard to believe this is your life right now, but it doesn’t feel quite as overwhelming. Maybe, just maybe, this new chapter won’t be so bad after all.

The move-in process is exhausting but efficient. Seokjin and Namjoon take charge of the heavier boxes while you focus on the smaller ones. Your room starts to take shape, with your bed frame set up in one corner and your essentials arranged along the walls. The other boxes you don’t need immediately are stacked neatly in the living room, ready to be taken to your parents’ place for temporary storage later.

After two hours of hauling, unpacking, and arranging, the three of you are sweaty and starving.

“I think that’s everything,” Namjoon says, leaning against the couch and wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

“Pizza?” Seokjin asks, already pulling out his phone.

“Pizza,” you and Namjoon echo in unison.

“And chicken wings,” Namjoon adds with a grin. “We earned it.”

“And beer,” Seokjin finishes, smirking. “That sounds good to you?”

You nod happily.

Within half an hour, the smell of pepperoni, garlic, and fried chicken fills the apartment. The three of you gather around the coffee table in the living room, the TV playing 30 Rock quietly in the background. You sit cross-legged on the rug while Seokjin and Namjoon sprawl on the couch, all of you diving into the food like it’s the best meal you’ve ever had.

“So, Namjoon,” you start between bites of pizza, “what do you do now? Not breaking stuff as Jin mentioned, right?”

He laughs, a deep, warm sound that makes you smile. “Thankfully, no. I’m working in publishing now, managing creative projects. Still a little chaotic, but at least it’s not as physically dangerous.”

“Only mentally,” Seokjin teases, raising his beer.

“True,” Namjoon admits, clinking his bottle against Jin’s.

“What about you?” Namjoon asks, turning the attention to you. “What do you do?”

You hesitate, picking at the crust of your pizza. “I worked at a fashion company, but the company underwent some layoffs. So this is kind of…a transitional period for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know it’s been a tough market, but with your focused attitude and experience, I’m sure you’ll find something new soon.”

“I hope so.”

After a few more slices and some casual conversation about work, gaming, and travel, the beers start to settle in. The atmosphere grows looser, and the conversation takes a turn into more, juicier topics.

“So,” Seokjin begins, leaning back against the armrest with a mischievous grin. “Getting into a more interesting topic…Relationships. What’s the story there?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “All of a sudden? Why do I feel like this is a setup?”

“It’s not a setup. We’re just curious. Plus easy topic to become closer.”

Namjoon chuckles, “Don’t bring me into this, Jin,”

“Well…” You pause, debating how much to share. The buzz from the beer nudges you toward honesty. “Without going to deep into it, let’s just say my last relationship ended badly. Cheating, lies, the whole package.”

Seokjin winces. “Ouch. That’s rough.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But honestly, it’s probably for the best. I’ve got enough on my plate right now without dealing with that kind of drama.”

Namjoon nods thoughtfully. “It’s hard to find someone who’s actually worth your time these days. Everyone’s either too focused on themselves or doesn’t know what they want.”

Seokjin chuckles, a slightly bitter edge to his tone. “Or they’re just not ready to commit, no matter how much they say they are.”

You glance at him, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor. “Speaking from experience?”

He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “I plead the fifth.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t press further. You decide not to either.

“What about you, Namjoon?” you ask, redirecting the spotlight. “Any tragic love stories to share?”

He grins, shaking his head. “Nothing tragic, thankfully. Just a lot of learning experiences. I’ve been too focused on work to really put myself out there lately.”

The conversation continues, flowing easily despite the heavy topic. As the night stretches on, you find yourself feeling unexpectedly comfortable. Seokjin and Namjoon’s company has been a comfortable change of pace from prior weeks of being alone and dealing with the aftermath of your ended relationship and job. Being all alone with your thoughts hasn’t been easy. Lost in a whirlpool of negative thoughts. And with your closest friends, Yunjin and Wendy, living miles away, even leaning on them hadn’t been an option.

But for the first time in a while, you could even say you feel happy to be around others.

The clock on the wall creeps past 11:00pm, and Namjoon glances at his phone with a small sigh. “I should probably get going before it gets too late.”

“Already?” Seokjin teases, though his tone is more playful than serious.

Namjoon chuckles. “Some of us have a really early morning commute tomorrow, Jin.” He stands, stretching his arms overhead before reaching for his jacket.

“I do too, you know!”

“But hey, this was fun. I’ll definitely swing by again. I’ll see you for your monthly Marvel movie nights, right?”

Seokjin grins. “You know it. You can’t miss those!”

Namjoon laughs, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Let me know when the next one is.”

You and Seokjin walk him to the elevator, chatting casually as you descend to the ground floor. Outside, the air is cooler, a light breeze stirring as Namjoon’s Uber pulls up to the curb.

“Thanks for helping out today,” you say, offering him a grateful smile. “I don’t think we could’ve done it without you.”

“Anytime,” Namjoon replies warmly. “And welcome to the apartment. I’m sure Jin’ll keep things interesting for you.”

Seokjin snorts.

Namjoon smirks. “See you both soon!”

With a wave, Namjoon climbs into the car, and you watch as it drives off into the night.

You and Seokjin linger outside for a moment, the hum of the city quieting as the car disappears from view.

“Well,” Seokjin says after a beat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Guess it’s just us now.”

“Looks like it,” you reply, feeling a strange mix of ease and uncertainty.

Well you did just unload some emotional baggage about your shitty past relationship earlier. The alcohol running through your veins isn’t helping either.

“Come on,” he says, nodding toward the entrance. “Let’s get back inside. You’ve had a long day.”

You follow Jin back to the apartment, the soft hum of the elevator ride and the quiet hallways lulling you into a peaceful state. Once inside, the two of you automatically start tidying up the coffee table and living area, picking up empty beer bottles, wiping down surfaces, and folding the napkins that had been left scattered. It’s a quiet, easy rhythm, and before long, the space looks just as pristine as when you first arrived.

“I think we’ve earned a good night’s sleep.”

You nod, stifling a yawn. “Agreed. Thanks again, Jin… for everything.”

He shrugs, his expression light but genuine. “Don’t mention it. Get some rest, Roomie.”

You laugh, “Will do.”

With that, Jin heads down the hallway to the right, disappearing into his room. You make your way to the left, to your room, the soft padding of your steps on the hardwood floor the only sound.

Once inside, you close the door and lean against it for a moment, letting the day’s events settle in your mind. Your room is still sparse, with only the basics unpacked, but it feels cozy enough. The bed, made with fresh sheets, beckons invitingly, and your unpacked boxes wait patiently in the corner, reminding you there’s more work to be done tomorrow.

You slip into something comfortable, wash your face, and settle under the covers. The bed is surprisingly soft, the kind that you could sink into and never leave. But despite the exhaustion tugging at your body, sleep doesn’t come right away.

Your thoughts drift, unbidden, to Jin’s easy demeanor since you’ve started talking to him again. His kind words. His quick, charming smile and laughter. His height—tall enough that you had to tilt your head to look him in the eye. And those plump lips of his…

Huh? No, no wait a minute!

You blink at the ceiling, catching your thoughts veering dangerously south. What the hell is wrong with you? Maybe it’s the beer, or maybe it’s the fact that kindness from a man feels so foreign after everything you’ve been through. Whatever it is, your brain is doing laps around something you absolutely should not be thinking about.

Gross. Stop it. You scrunch your face in frustration, trying to shake the image of Jin’s stupidly handsome face from your mind.

This is Seokjin, your childhood rival, the annoying kid who used to show off his stupid gaming collection and beat you at literally everything. That’s all he is. That’s all he’ll ever be.

He is just kindly letting you stay with him, but you know he’s going to be waiting for you to move out soon enough.

With a groan, you roll over and pull the covers up to your chin, willing your thoughts to calm down. Sleep. That’s what you need. Just sleep.

With a groan, you roll over and pull the covers up to your chin, willing your thoughts to calm down. Eventually, you manage to quiet your mind, and your eyes drift shut. Slowly, the tension in your body melts away, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you fall into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

It’s the kind of sleep that cradles you, soothing the jagged edges of your worries. The stressors in your life—the layoff, the breakup, the uncertainty of your future—haven’t disappeared, but for once, they feel distant, safely tucked on the backburner. This new chapter isn’t perfect, but at least one major burden has been lifted, and that’s enough for now.

Until it isn’t.

The urge comes on suddenly, pulling you from the cocoon of rest. You blink groggily, your senses slowly catching up to reality as you register the weight pressing against your bladder. Turning your head to the side, you squint at the clock on your phone: 2:33 a.m.

You need to pee.

You groan softly. Of course. Why wouldn’t your body choose the middle of the night to interrupt what was probably the nicest sleep you’ve had in months? Throwing off the covers, you shuffle out of bed and head for the bathroom, still half-asleep and stumbling in your room as you walk inside the en-suite bathroom.

The cool tile under your feet jolts you a bit closer to full consciousness. The soft hum of the apartment at night feels oddly soothing, even as you fumble to turn on the light.

After finishing up and washing your hands, you pause for a moment, the dryness in your throat making itself known. Great. Now you’re thirsty too.

The memory of Jin mentioning the case of bottled water he keeps under the kitchen sink stops you. Sighing, you quietly slip out of your room, padding into the darkened apartment.

The space is eerily still, the shadows from the streetlights outside casting faint patterns across the floor of the living room. You make your way to the kitchen, carefully navigating around the furniture, not wanting to stub a toe or knock anything over.

Opening one of the cabinet beneath the sink, you find the water bottle case Jin mentioned. The plastic crinkles as you grab a bottle, and you wince, hoping the noise doesn’t carry too far. Closing the cabinet as quietly as you can, you straighten up and twist the cap open, taking a long, refreshing sip.

As you stand there, your gaze drifts toward the living room and the hallway that leads toward Jin’s room. You notice light seeping from below the doorway. Is he still up? Shouldn’t he be sleeping? He did mention something earlier about needing to head into the office in the morning.

Well… maybe he’s streaming? Jin has been kind of hesitant to talk openly about his side hustle, but after your harmless sleuthing on his Instagram the other day, it makes sense to have this type of scheduling. His posts, the tags, the casual mentions of late-night work—it all points to streaming. And why not? No shame in being a streamer. Plenty of people are wildly successful doing it. And he’s probably catering to overseas fans in Asia during these hours.

You shrug to yourself. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not your business.

Deciding not to overthink it, you turn to head back to your room. But after a couple of steps in the living room, a faint noise catches your attention.

You freeze.

A voice… soft, low, and unmistakably a moan.

Your breath hitches as the sound cuts through the stillness, sending your thoughts racing. What was that…?

Haha… you must be overthinking things.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure whether to move or pretend you didn’t hear anything at all.

But now, from this angle, you notice something else. Jin’s door isn’t fully closed. It’s very, very slightly ajar.

The realization makes your pulse quicken. You’re not sure why—it’s not like you were planning to barge in or anything. But the faint glow spilling from the room and that sound… it feels like you’ve stumbled into something you weren’t meant to witness.

Your eyes dart to the gap in the doorway, then back to your water bottle. Just go to bed, you tell yourself. Whatever Jin is doing is none of your business. You’ve already overstepped enough by loitering here in the middle of the night.

But your feet don’t move.

Instead, you find yourself stepping a bit closer, trying to make sense of what’s going on. The soft glow of a screen flickers against the walls, accompanied by faint, muffled sounds—another low moan, followed by a voice, Jin’s voice, quiet but distinct.

He’s probably just streaming, you reason, though your mind betrays you, replaying the noise you just heard. That didn’t sound like any gaming commentary you’ve ever heard.

Your curiosity battles with your better judgment. This is weird. This is weird. Go back to bed, you scold yourself. Yet, you find yourself taking a hesitant step closer, your bare feet silent against the floor.

Peering at the slight crack in the door, you catch a glimpse of Jin sitting at his desk, his back to the door. He’s wearing a loose-fitting hoodie, the hood pulled halfway up, and his headphones cover his ears.

You hesitate for just a moment too long, your eyes flickering back to the gap in the door. Jin shifts slightly in his chair, and that’s when you see it—his hand moving slowly, deliberately, along the length of his member.

Oh my god…

Your breath catches in your throat as the realization slams into you.

You catch yourself lingering, unable to look away despite every nerve in your body screaming at you to turn back. Jin’s hoodie hangs loosely over his broad shoulders, the fabric shifting slightly with his movements. His hand moves with deliberate intent, wrapping firmly around his length as he strokes himself in a slow, unhurried rhythm.

The motion is mesmerizing, almost practiced—his grip tightening subtly at the base before sliding upward, then loosening as his hand glides back down. His fingers flex with precision, coaxing soft, breathy moans from his lips, barely audible but enough to make your skin prickle.

He shifts in his chair, angling himself slightly toward the camera, his movements smooth and calculated. His legs are spread comfortably apart, the outline of his frame illuminated by the soft glow of the monitor. The confidence in his actions is undeniable, as if he’s done this countless times before, every motion intentional and deliberate for the audience he can’t see but knows is watching.

Your heart pounds harder when his strokes pick up pace briefly, then slow again, teasing, calculated. His chest rises and falls in measured breaths, and every now and then, a low groan escapes, richer and deeper than the softer sounds he’s been making.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Jin murmurs suddenly, his tone smooth and teasing, almost playful. You jump up slightly from the sudden spoken words. His strokes grow a fraction faster, his hand tightening briefly before loosening again. “Bet you’ve been waiting all day for this.”

The faint click of his mouse follows, likely scrolling through the flood of comments. A soft chuckle escapes his lips, and he tilts his head as if he’s reading something amusing.

“Oh, you want me to go slower?” he says, his voice dropping a notch, rich and deliberate. His movements follow suit, his hand sliding torturously slow along his length, eliciting a low groan from deep in his chest. “Patience. You’ll get what you’re asking for. Just keep watching.”

He shifts in his chair, leaning back slightly, his free hand brushing over his thigh. “Such a needy audience tonight,” he adds with a smirk, his tone dripping with mock indulgence. “But I guess I can’t blame you. You love it when I take my time, don’t you?”

Your breath catches as you hear the faintest hitch in his voice, a sign that even he isn’t immune to his own ministrations. “Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs, his strokes quickening again as his chest rises and falls in heavier breaths. “Keep telling me what you want. I can’t get enough of it.”

The chat on his screen is moving so quickly it’s impossible to follow, but he clearly can. His responses are measured, tailored, and completely immersed in the moment.

“You’re spoiling me tonight,” he says with a breathy laugh, likely reacting to a particularly generous tip or comment. His hand slows again, teasing, his thumb brushing over the tip of his length in a way that draws a soft, shuddering groan from his lips. “Guess I should return the favor, huh?”

His voice lowers further, almost a whisper, intimate in a way that makes your heart pound. “Let me know how much you’re enjoying this,” he says, his words melting into another low moan. “Because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Your pulse races as you watch him lean back slightly, adjusting his position to maintain his pace, his focus entirely on the screen and the comments it displays. The intimacy of the scene feels almost overwhelming, and it’s enough to snap you out of your trance.

You step back, your breath hitching as you force yourself to retreat. Whatever this is, you weren’t meant to see it!

And yet the image is burned into your mind as you close your door, your thoughts swirling in a storm of confusion, embarrassment, and curiosity.

Oh my fucking god…

The soft click of the mouse breaks you from your trance, and you realize you’ve been standing there far too long. Before Jin can notice anything amiss, you step away from his side of the apartment as quietly as possible, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

You retreat down the hall to your room, shutting the door behind you with trembling hands. Leaning against it, you try to catch your breath, your mind racing. Jin, your childhood rival and now your new roommate, is apparently living a double life you never could have anticipated.

Never mind.

This new life that you’re living, will not be easy at all.

a/n: happy thanksgiving!! this is another very short series i plan to make with around 3-5 chapters. i'll keep brainstorming and slowly writing this along with my a(myg)dala fic series... but this is very brainrot not too heavy focus on plot so i probably won't take long to continue it compared to the other series hehe!! thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

#seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #smut #heart on the window #bts fic #bts #seokjin x y/n #jin fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n

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mynameismad · 6 months ago

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What have I been up to?????

Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!

GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.

THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!

SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)

RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.

OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!

UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!

In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!

#sakana #mad rupert #text post #robber robert

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defectiveporcelaindoll · 10 months ago

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Chapter II : Guilty as Sin

“If long-suffering propriety is what the want from me—

They don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

series masterlist Chapter I

pairing: post prison/ cm:evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance, hurt/comfort, fluffy angsty

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, hurt/comfort, harsh words and gossip about reader and Spence; info-dumping Spencer; pet names (angel) possibly eventual smut in later parts, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything and as always, lemme know what you think!

note: still third person pov, but this one is more from the readers perspective. Thinking maybe I’ll go back and forth between chapters if you see a quote in purple it’s readers perspective, if the quote is green it’ll be Spencer’s 🩵

wordcount: 2.1k

Of course, Penelope did not disappoint, popping a tiny confetti popper at the newlyweds as they made their way out of the conference room and into the bullpen, which felt like an awkward makeshift reception. The rest of the team offered playful congratulations, with Alvez going so far as to wolf-whistle and point out the way the couple's linked hands which in turn earned him a swift knock on the back of the head courtesy of Tara. It felt safe and joyous. Y/N tried to smile, hesitantly dropping Spencer’s hand as she collected her things, the anxiety of being away from these people, from her home and normal life, just starting to settle into her chest.

The flight to Seattle was long. Though Y/N had traveled by jet multiple times, it had never felt so massive as she and Spencer sat at the small table combing through the case file in comfortable silence. So far, three couples had been found dead in their quiet Seattle homes. Of the couples, two of the men had been professors at different colleges in the area while the third was the head of a non-profit organization. The women, were all nearly twenty years young and had worked for their husbands in some way before being married. At each crime scene, the unsub left a calling card of sorts. A feather in the hands of the woman and a beautifully written poetic line alluding to the dangers of an “unruly” woman in the hand of the man.

“These cards are beautiful,” Y/N mused, turning the evidence bag with the delicate stationery over in her hands. “Each line is poetic in nature but not quite right. See, ‘Wise men once said Wild winds are death to the candle’? And these feathers?”

“I don’t think any of these are actual published poems, more like plays at various poets' works. But the feather, by the look of it, it looks like it’s possibly from an albatross. They’re seabirds with wingspans that can reach up to nearly ten feet. There are several poems regarding that particular bird. The first one that comes to mind is Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s ‘The Rime of Ancient Mariner,’ in which an albatross is wrongfully shot down because a mariner thought it to be a bad omen. In older mythologies, the albatross was seen as good luck, bringing wind to sailors. In the poem, the mariner is forced to wear the lifeless albatross around his neck in place of the traditional cross.” There’s an excitement in Spencer that y/n hasn’t seen before, the way his eyes light up and his hand flail almost wildly. It’s endearing— cute she would almost say.

“It’s not a super common metaphor, but the albatross is also often used in association with guilt or shame,” Spencer continued, sitting back in his chair, eyes looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him. “Some authors use it to symbolize a curse…sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his curls hanging gently around his face as he dropped his gaze back down to the file on the table.

“No-no, don’t apologize. That was all incredibly fascinating. I knew you are wildly academic, but why exactly do you know all of that about some random bird I’ve never even heard of?” Y/N's tone wasn’t teasing or harsh; it was full of genuine sincerity and curiosity, which took Spencer completely by surprise.

“My mentor… when I started at the BAU, he had a thing with birds,” Spencer chuckled, offering a small shrug as his gaze came back to meet hers. “I guess I just really wanted to impress him.” The jet fell back into a comfortable silence, except for the rustling papers, for another hour until Y/N decided she’d had enough and retreated to the small couch to rest her eyes for a bit.

The drive from the airport to the university was quick. The house they’d been assigned was cute, small, quaint, but certainly big enough for a professor and their spouse to be comfortable. There was an office for Spencer, a decently sized kitchen, and a living room that opened up to a sweet little patio. Truly, there should’ve been no complaints. As Y/N entered the bedroom, she frowned, her go-bag in hand as she shuffled around the nicely sized room, sizing up the singular king-sized bed. A knock at the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts.

Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes falling between the bed and the woman in front of him before nodding. “Don’t worry, you can take the master if you’d like. The office has a pullout, and I really don’t mind.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can sleep here—we can...” her voice going up an octave as she tried and failed to play it cool. “It’s not a big deal, Spencer. We’re both adults.” She shrugged, tossing her bag onto the bed and turning to sit at its foot, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Spencer read her like a book, seeing the young woman in front of him in the midst of a battle with herself, her pride and anxiety both fighting for control, though he knew she’d likely never admit that.

“Really, I’m okay. Thank you, though. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a little wave before retreating down the hall.

For the next week or so, the duo did their best to make the space feel like a home. What it lacked in size, it surely made up for it in atmosphere. For a state that had a nasty rap for rain and gloom, it was surprisingly peaceful. There hadn’t been any rain yet, and the summer sun stayed up well into the night. There were moments where Y/N caught herself thinking that had it not been for work, this would be a really nice life.

When the semester started, they fell into a comfortable routine. During the day, Y/N carried the full course load of a grad student, while Spencer spent most of his time tucked away in his on-campus office, prepping lectures and reviewing assignments. At night, the real work would begin as they’d sit at their quaint little dining table with a pot of coffee or take-out containers and go over any developments in the case that the team had found back in DC. In the two weeks they’d been in Seattle, the body count thankfully hadn’t gone up.

As the weeks went on, the rumblings of the new “hot” behavioral psychology professor spread like wildfire. Those rumors were quickly followed by the fact that he was not only married, but his wife was a student. It didn't take long for people to begin connecting the dots. With every professor calling out her name and immediately sizing her up, the other students caught on fast. Of course, after that, y/n became hyper aware the way almost everyone looked at her and the whispers from professors and students alike that she was “the girl,” the reason Doctor Reid had to move out west. She’d expected it from the students; it was incredible gossip that she herself would’ve eaten up back in her first round of university. What she hadn’t expected were the comments made by her partner's new colleagues, whispers usually a little too loud as she’d make her way into a room.

“She really should be ashamed of herself. You know, I heard he only married her to minimize the scandal. I bet he’s miserable.”

On a normal day, the comment would’ve rolled right off her back, she’d file it away with the rest of the case's details. Maybe she was overtired just exhausted from the workload of simultaneously playing a grad student and an FBI agent, but today, she let the words seep beneath her skin, poisoning her mind. She hadn’t stayed for the class, instead turning on her heels, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks as she made her way back to the house. She felt absolutely ridiculous, letting her emotions consume her this way. The words weren’t true, nothing about her current life or situation was true, so why did it hurt so much hearing that people thought Spencer was miserable beside her?

Am I allowed to cry?

When she entered the house, she crumbled against the door, the tears freely flowing as she allowed herself to fall apart in the privacy of the home that was supposed to be empty.

“Y/N?” Spencer called, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors as he made his way down the hall. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He froze at the end of the hall, taking in the crumpled form of his pseudo-wife. “W-what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” The words came rushing out as he sunk to his knees in front of her, his hands hesitantly reaching out to cup her cheeks, his thumb trying to brush the tears away as quickly as they fell.

“I-I’m fine... You-you weren’t supposed to see this,” she sniffed, trying to pull away, to hide her face in her sweater, but Spencer wouldn’t let that happen. His hand staying planted firmly on her cheek, keeping her in place. “You’re supposed to be in your office...” she said, practically whimpering as another round of tears betrayed her.

“I came home to grab a book and a bite to eat... angel, what’s going on?”

“It’s silly—no, it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t even care, and none of this is real, and I—I...” She caught herself, her breaths coming short and quick, but Spencer didn’t move. He sat, patiently waiting for her to continue. “I know that it’s a story, that I am not really your wife, that you were never really my professor, and that six months ago you didn’t even know who I was.” Finally, she took a deep breath, her hand slowly taking his from her cheek and holding it in both of hers in her lap. “But it’s so awful, Spence... I’m just so tired of hearing how I’ve ruined your life, that I’m using you, that...” The last words caught in her throat as another silent sob racked through her body. “...that you’re miserable.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Do I look miserable? No, I don’t think I do and if I do, I sincerely apologize, I think it just may be my resting face.” his voice dripped the kind of sincerity that made Y/N’s heart flutter, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lip. “You’ve got a good face Spencer, not too miserable…”

Spencer chuckled, taking the compliment with a little nod, as he offered her hand a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, you’re going through this seemingly alone, and if it would make you feel any better I can have a conversation with the other professors… and though I’ve never been in your exact position, I do remember what it was like to constantly be torn down by everyone around you. You’re allowed to cry, angel, allowed to feel all of the things you’re currently feeling. And while I might only be your temporary husband, I did sign that paper, and I do promise to take care of you and make you smile and protect you from every awful thing I can’t control outside that door. Okay?”

She nodded, her gaze falling to their joined hands in her lap as the last of her tears stained her now rosy cheeks.

“I’m going to need a verbal response, angel.” His tone shifted; it wasn’t quite as delicate or gentle as his previous vows had been, but it was just stern enough to draw her gaze back up to his.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

“Y-yes. Okay.” With another nod, she took her hand from his, dragging it down her dampened cheeks. “I’m sorry about all this.” She offered him a small smile and a shrug. “I swear I’m not usually like this—”

“Stop it. There is nothing to be sorry about.” He rose to his feet, his hand immediately reaching out to help his partner up. “Now come on, I’ve got classes to cancel, and we’ve gotta get you cleaned up. I think we deserve to take the rest of the day off.”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, are you—are you proposing we play hooky this afternoon?” Y/N clutched her metaphorical pearls, mock shock consuming her features. Spencer rolled his eyes, a genuine chuckle passing his lips as he shook his head.

“What can I say, we’ve been here—what, going on three weeks? I think we deserve to see the sights. And besides, how else am I gonna show the world just how miserable I am by your side?” He teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head. “Now come on, seriously, up, moving. Let’s go, I’m taking you out.”

“If it’s make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?”

Chapter III: So High School

taglist: @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @herbookgarden @guiltyyassin

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds posting #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff

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gingerteawrites · 2 months ago

Text

BY THE HEARTH: JOLT

A/N: Hello again guys, here I come over a month later. I have been writing and re-writing this chapter for weeks on end, and had to force myself to just post this because you all don't deserve to wait so long. I sorry :(

While many things have been extremely hectic and difficult for me, I have some amazing news. I recently got admitted into medical school and will start in the fall of this year, and I am so very excited about that! I hope you enjoy this installment of BTH. Thank you to all the new readers for enjoying the story and for all those who have been here for a while for keeping up! Much love <3

Read previous part here

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~6K words

Banner by: @cafekitsune

ACT XIII

Departing from the castle in the morning had been a surprisingly emotional experience. That place, once shrouded in darkness and fear had opened up to bear witness to unpredictable wonder and love. A home, found in the people who coloured your world.

Walking out of the main courtyard, the crisp autumn air ruffled the hem of your dress, carrying leaves tinted in profound reds and oranges across your view. You took in a deep breath, filling your lungs to the brim before turning to bid your goodbyes to the menagerie that had lined up outside for the occassion.

A humble entourage was to accompany you for the trip; only a senior maid you had often seen at Alma’s side, Riko, and a handful of knights led by Sir Haibara. Though it saddened you, Alma could not afford to leave the castle without her sharp eye for too long. The melancholy in her eyes as she waved goodbye to your departing coach more than tugged at your heartstrings.

“This is supposed to be a peaceful visit,” your husband’s voice drew your attention away from the window and back to his face. He sat across from you, back straight and shoulders wide, posture refined by years of royal education. “Taking a small group is a way of showing trust,” he explained, tone relaxed.

Yuuji clung to your side, listening to the words so very intently, ever attentive to his father’s teaching. He would grow up to be an observing and dutiful king himself.

“Diplomacy at its finest,” you nodded, resting your arm over Yuuji’s shoulder.

“What were the terms of this alliance with the Zenins? I have spent the past week researching more of the history of the kingdown, but the books went into surprisngly little detail about the conflict." All that did was feed your curiousity about the relationship between the Northern duchy and the royal family. And you had grown out of your fear of asking the king questions.

“My family is not without blame in the affair,” a sigh escaped his lips as he looked outside the window. “The Zenins have been the guardians of the Northern border since our ancestors first inhabited this land. No matter how callous they can be, they play a critical role in protecting the entire continent, and have been the guardians of a great responsibility and power.” he folded his hands over his chest, leaning his head against the coach wall. “Generations ago, my family sought out that power and rallied the houses of this region to attack the Northern lands. With the conflict stretched out over years and countless lives lost, they were forced into a treaty.” His eyes returned to yours, boring into them with a quiet intensity. “In sum, they are tied to a kingdom they most likely despise but still have to protect. Miserable, is it not?”

You frowned, nodding in agreement. Being forced into an unwilling union was not a foreign concept to you at all. But still, it had been so long. Had time truly done nothing to mend this tear?

The coach rocked gently, travelling on the smooth beaten path and lulling the child fast asleep in your lap. You had been at it for a couple days now, riding through the day and then stopping in small towns along the way to sleep.

And to be frank, the pace was hard on you. There was just so much entertainment that could found in admiring the new horizons. But you being bored and your back hurting was no excuse to cause delays, so you kept your grievances to yourself.

Two more days and we’ll be there. Two little days.

The king, on the other hand, appeared unendingly entertained by his reading. His deep eyes behind a pair of square lenses, fleeting through the words of the dense manuscripts he seemed to fly through.

You found yourself watching him rather than the passing scenery. How his long fingers traced some of the words. How sunlight streaming in from the window caught in his golden hair. How his lips parted slightly when he absently mumbled some of the words on his scripts.

He looked up for a second, catching your gaze.

“Bored, Y/N?” He folded the manuscript in his lap, taking his glasses off. Your heart couldn’t help but stutter at the sight.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head. “I was just watching you. You look very… in your element… I mean- focused like that,” You cringed internally at your slight stutter. You were nervous, giddy, shy and a whole lot of other mushy feelings directed towards the man sitting across from you.

He looked at you in stunned silence for a few moments, maybe realizing that the same torrent of emotions brewed in his heart. Understanding that you were as enamored with him as he was with you. He closed the papers in his lap.

“I…” Clearing his throat, Kento brought a hand to rub against his face, clearly flustered. “Thank you?” the words were low, muffled by his hand over his face.

The boyish innocence and shyness reared its head again. You couldn’t decide if you liked this side of him more than the strong, self-assured leader whom everyone knew and loved.

Soon the sun started to dip into the sky, and Yuuji awoke, spending the rest of the trip glued to the window. Asking his father about the different trees and passing animals, tugging at your dress to explain an interesting thought.

Through all the towns that you passed on your journey, the people of kingdom gathered along the roads to catch a glimpse of the royal family. In joy and in awe they greeted you, their warmth soothing your tired bones. You watched the scenery change gradually, towns becoming more sparse as you kept going up and up North. Closer to your destination.

By the time you had arrived in the Northern capital, it had been 5 days of travel. You were thoroughly exhausted and partially convinced that you had pulled something in your back. The roads during the last day of travel were especially bumpy, tossing you around in the coach to the point that you had to sit with Kento’s arm securely wrapped around your wait.

That was not half bad…

The Northern lands looked decidedly more rugged than the rest of the warm country. Maybeindicative of the cold welcome you would receive.

Unlike the previous towns, people did not celebrate your arrival with flower ornaments and ribbons. They simply milled about the city cobblestone paths, too concerned with their own lives and merely throwing a glance at your small entourage.

Your convoy pulled to a stop in front of the Zenin castle, a large estate secluded to the edge of the city with high walls that stood as an impenetrable barrier.

The drawbridge was slowly let down after a tense exchange between the royal knights and those standing guard at the wall, revealing a yard even more vast than what the outside let on.

Taking in your surroundings colored you equal parts impressed and wary about how millitarized the old gothic estate looked. Guards stood on the castle wall, and at every corner your eye could see, swords at their hip and spears in hand. Expression tense, hostile. Ready to attack.

“A fortress,” Nanami echoed your thoughts before the words could leave your mouth. He turned his head to you. “That was the first thing I thought when I first stepped here a decade ago.”

The Zenins were a proud family, not taking well to being forced into a subservient position to the king. In fact they abhorred their condition, and their most recent heir, Naoya Zenin, never missed a chance to display.

Kento had not seen the duke since he himself had last been required to attend the commemoration, not long before his ascension to the throne 10 years ago. Barely a tween, Naoya had already been an insufferable arse, irking the king in all the wrong ways. And reports of his uruly behavior always circled back to Kento, always making him second-guess his stance regarding how much freedom he afforded the Northern duchy.

“Duke Zenin is an interesting character,” Nanami began as the coach slowed, approaching the castle’s main entrance. “It’s best to avoid interactions with him. Please.” He despised the thought of Naoya setting his sights on you. In his eyes, you saw the traces of words left unsaid.

Please stay close. Please steer clear of danger.

The coach rolled to a stop, and the king stepped out first, followed by an unusually timid Yuuji—and you. As you turned, you faced the Zenin congregation, whose faces displayed as much enthusiasm as that of a sheet of bleached parchment.

Among them, one man stood out unmistakably as their leader—a dark-haired figure draped in a heavy emerald cape.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted Nanami, his tone so nonchalant it immediately irked you. Haughty.

“Duke Naoya,” Kento replied just as plainly, dipping his head in polite acknowledgment.

Yuuji stood by your side, back straight, posture practiced—but his fists clenched tightly at his sides. And not without reason. You and the child were being scrutinized with an intensity that made your skin crawl. Their curiosity was evident—this was the Northeners' first time laying eyes on the queen and the young prince. But instead of innocent looks, their eyes held something you couldn't quite place, yet still made you incredibly uncomfortable.

“And you…” Naoya’s gaze settled on you, and you forced a polite smile. He extended a hand, silently coaxing you to offer yours for a kiss. As his fingers lingered around yours, his eyes dragged slowly down the length of your body. A shiver of discomfort crept up your spine, and at your sides, both father and son frowned deeply.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet the queen,” he murmured. “We hope you have a pleasant stay here.”

His grip still hadn’t loosened when Nanami cleared his throat sharply, a concealed glare shadowing his expression.

“I would appreciate it if you could show us to our quarters. The journey has been especially exhausting for my wife and son,” he stated, his voice clipped, his gaze razor-sharp.

Naoya smirked, almost smug at having struck a nerve.

“Of course, of course,” he drawled, turning slightly to nod at a tall guard. “He will escort you and remain at your service for the duration of your stay.” He waved them off with a dismissive flick of his fingers. “Again, please enjoy your time with us.”

At last, you reached for Yuuji’s hand, and he latched onto yours immediately, fingers curling tight. His shoulders eased, if only slightly.

Haibara walked ahead alongside the assigned knight, his presence reassuring.

“Please stay close, Your Majesties,” the knight murmured, offering a kind smile.

But beneath his composed facade, you could see it. Just like you, the usually jovial knight was on edge.

The walk proceeded in tense silence. You had plenty to say, but you held your thoughts, waiting for a place with more privacy.

Yet, the feeling of being watched clung to you. As if the very walls of the castle had eyes.

Maybe it was the gargoyles perched atop the towering columns, their stone eyes seeming to follow you as you moved. Or maybe it was something else—something unseen but undeniably present. An eerie sense settled in your chest, creeping up your spine.

Cold halls. Dark stone. The interior was far more imposing than its exterior had let on. Guards stood at rigid attention in front of every door you passed, their expressions unreadable. The servants moved in ghostly silence, their steps soundless as they drifted through the corridors, never once sparing your small group a glance.

It was clear—they had been trained to be blind. See nothing. Hear nothing.

At last, the guard led you to the entrance of a smaller annex, bowing politely before introducing you to the servant assigned to assist you during your stay. Haibara, the senior maid (Misato, as you had come to know her) and Riko exchanged brief words with them before leading you inside.

Finally, surrounded by familiar company, the tension eased, just enough for you to notice the moment Yuuji let out a deep yawn. You ran your thumb gently across his knuckles.

“Let’s get you to bed now, Yuuji,” Kento announced, his gaze fixed on the two of you.

Had he looked this tired before?

Nanami had always had a great memory. He was one of those gifted people who could perfectly remember the way to a place after taking it just once, and memorize a passage just from a single read.

This talent was one of the only things that had earned praise from his late father. But excellent recollection aside, the annex looked uncanningly familiar. None of the decor had changed from a decade ago when he had first visited with his parents. He could almost hear his mother’s voice at the sight of the gothic painting that hung above the fireplace.

“How tacky,” she had scoffed under her breath, lips curled as she appraised her surroundings. “Not at all fitting for royalty.”

Soon after thoughts of his father flooded his mind, the pressure, the control. “You are 18 Kento,” he always said his name with such harshness. “No longer a child,” he scoffed. “When are you going to live up to this responsibility?You will perform your duty and marry, and that is not up to discussion!”

You rounded the corner into the small room, a warm smile on your face when you spotted him.

Nanami spotted you, allowing the tension that had been building in his shoulders to dissipate, reciprocating with a smile of his own.

“Hi,” he whispered into the air and you stepped more fully into the room, letting the warm hearth illuminate your face. It was pitch black outside, the nights in the north always seemed so. But you had changed into a white chemise nightgown, his eyes glued to the way the silky fabric rested softly against your skin, like a caress. He wanted to be the one to caress you.

“Hello Kento,” you replied, your smile turning timid. The way you said his name was so wonderful. Like your lips embraced the very letters before letting them out, so tender. So foreign.

He tried to turn to face you fully, but something tensed in his neck, causing him to close his eyes and grunt in pain.

“Are you okay?” you approached immediately, resting a hand on his shoulder, concern evident on your face. You were so close. He could smell your lilac perfume.

So close that your husband almost forgot what words to say next.

“Yeah… I am- just fine-” he replied dumbly, wanting to smack himself in the face. He was used to traveling on horseback for long distances, but being in carriage made him feel stiff all over.

In fact, Haibara had suggested the former, but there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to sit in the coach. Seeing the wonder in you and Yuuji’s face as you admired the scenery and the conversations being had made it all worth it.

Your light giggle broke through his thoughts, sliding your hand down his shoulder. “Would you like a massage?” You suggested, smiling up at him. “Yuuji loved the one I gave him before he fell asleep.”

He watched you for a moment, wanting to retort. He should have thought of that and offered the massage first, but the lingering warmth of your fingers on his body shortcircuited his brain.

How was he supposed to reject such an offer? He calmed his racing heart and nodded his agreement. “Thank you.”

Your fingers intwined with his and you pulled him gently to sit on the loveseat that directly faced the fire, providing enough warmth to keep the both of your from shivering in the frigid night air. You could hear the wind, or maybe something else howling from outside the window.

But the harshness had no place in here. Both of your hands found purchase at the junction of his neck and shoulders, pressing down softly and earning yourself a groan from the man.

“Did I hurt you?” you paused, slight concern in your voice.

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s wonderful,”

You kept at it for a few more moments, slowly working your way from his shoulders to his upper back, the king leaning forward to give you more space to work.

“I should be the one offering you the massage,” his voice was gruff, another groan escaping him when you pressed on a particularly sore spot of his back. “Carriage travel is dreadful,” he added.

“I definitely agree with the latter part,” you chuckled. “Yuuji seemed to take it really well though,” you commented, grateful for the conversation.

You were enjoying this a little too much. The way your hands perfectly molded against his taut muscles, his back feeling just so sturdy, his shoulders so broad.

You couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed within you as you spent a few more moments than were necessary touching every part of him. If Nanami had noticed, he did not complain, turning to putty under your touch.

“Children have this extraordinary ability to adapt to everything at the speed of light,” he added, looking back at you. “But my offer still stands. Let me help you after you are done with me,” The tone of his voice. It was not a question. But you did not dislike it. Instead, your heartbeat picked up.

You pulled your hands away and he turned towards you, offering his hand for you to take. When you did he circled you around the chair, and there you stood in front of him.

Kento sat you gently into his lap, making you almost taller than him in that position. He was trying so hard to keep his hands in chaste places, looking up at you with a feeling so raw it shook you. Like quiet worship, his gaze held an appreciation that only the most appraised pieces of art elicit.

He brought his right hand to the junction of your neck and shoulder like you had done for him, pression deft strong fingers in your skin.

You sighed, closing your eyes at the sensation. You had definitily undersestimated how stiff your body felt. Something melted in his heart, knowing he was bringing you that relief.

He continued his motions, softly massaging the muscles of your shoulder and then slipping down to your shoulder panes. Your body softened under his touch, leaning closer, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” you heard and felt the rumble of his voice, pressing closer to him. Chest to chest, arms resting against his abdomen. In the safety of the moment, you drifted into sleep. By the hearth, safe in his arms.

In the morning you awoke in a foreing bed, unsure of how and when you got there.

Soon after your eyes were open enough to register the faint sunlight rays in your room, Riko knocked on the door and let herself in, eager to help you get ready for the day.

You noted the girl’s diligence, a sharp contrast to the usual chattiness and slight ditziness. She helped you slip into a emerald wool houppelande, its long sleeves and thick material meant to protect you against the chill. While she placed ornaments around your head, you tried to brighten the mood.

“You are doing an amazing job with all of this by yourself, Riko,” you offered a soothing smile, “thank you.”

The girl looked at you wide-eyed, returning to adjusting the rouge on your cheeks with a blush tinting her own. “You need not thank me, your majesty,” her youthful voice was low with shyness “Alma entrusted this assignment to me, I will not falter.”

The words stuck with you. How did a girl so young have such determination? You turned to look at the mirror, looking into your own eyes.

I am here for a reason. I will not falter.

A week in the North had sounded like a serious diplomatic ordeal to you, but as you stood in the middle of your third garden party of the week, you came to realize that the nobles treated it more like a holiday; unwelcome for many, yes, but a break nonetheless. You couldn’t help but wonder though, who did they entrust their estates to with everyone here?

A whirlwind of children stole away your thoughts, laughing loudly as they ran across the grass. Noble parties were usually an affair of those who had already been initiated into society, but it looked like many had decided to being their children along for this assembly.

Your eye caught Yuuji timidly watching the group from his father’s side, the king conversing with the Shoko family. You beckoned him over with a wave when his eyes fell on you, and the child made quick work of finding your side. He rested a hand on your lap and you put your teacup down, smiling sweetly at him.

“How are you doing, Yuuji?” you ask, noting Shoko’s smile across from you. The scene was just tooth-rottingly sweet.

“I am alright, mama.” The boy replied, a bit confused by your question.

“Would you like to play?”

“With you?” his eyes sparkled immediately.

You had noticed he always did this: carried himself so properly in front of others, but melting when close by. He must have felt the weight of the crown already from his young age, but you wanted him to enjoy the little joys. And you knew Kento wanted nothing but for him to experience a real childhood.

“No, with them,” you pointed to the group of children now playing a game of hopscotch. The child's eyes brightened again before you saw him visibly hold himsself back, fiddling with his thumbs.

“But it’s not proper…” he mumbled, pouting softly.

Immediately your heart hurt. You titled his chin up to look into your eyes, mustering the most reassuring expression you could.

“It does not matter in this moment,” you looked over at Nanami, who you knew kept and eye on your exchange. “Your papa and I both want you to have fun, okay?” Your expression turned a bit mischievous. “Unless you do not want to join them?”

His lips parted with a protest, jumping in place. “Okay, okay, I’m going,” and just like that the boy dashed away, soon joining the little group and bantering with a chestnut-haired girl.

While the children played, you returned to watching the high-born crowd, noting how unsociable the Zenin women were. They almost appeared like dolls; perfectly groomed but so quiet, empty. As well as the repeated absence of Naoya and the other men from the Duchy. How rude were they to not bother entertaining their guests...

Regardless, you kept your mind focused on one thing. Figuring out the treason issue. And in your experience, the best way to do so was merely to keep an ear open. Unfortunately, all you heard at the events were nothing but scalding gossip and complaints about the long trip.

Ieiri and you were laughing over a particularly ridiculous story when your time was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You looked up, your eyes meeting a crystal blue pair.

“Your majesty,” he knelt before you, offering a hand for a greeting. You gave yours politely, and the man kissed the back of it with his eyes never leaving yours. “It is such a pleasure to see each other again so soon,”

“Duke Gojo,” you nodded, pulling your hand away and securing it around the handle of your teacup.

“Oh none of that,” he stood, undeterred by your terse reply. “You can call me Satoru,” his eyes fleeted over to Shoko, offering a mischievous smile when the woman openly rolled her eyes, “Care for some more company?” he leaned down, already pulling a chair on the lawn to sit.

“I think the ladies find quite enough company in each other,” A hand rested on your shoulder, and a pleasant shiver went down your spine.

“Your majesty,” Gojo bowed his head, his smile only growing. “I must say, it is quite unusual to see you so…” he rubbed his chin in an exaggerated show of thinking. “Protective.” He soon erupted in a laugh. “I jest, of course. Who would I be to even dare criticize the king?”

Nanami was clearly annoyed, but just sighed deeply, leaning down to whisper close to your ear.

“May I talk to you for a minute?” Another shiver down your spine. You stood with a nod, excusing yourself from the table. But not missing the looks that you garnered as you walked away, Nanami’s hand secured around yours.

Much to your disappointment, your husband was simply offering a break from the conversation with Gojo. You looked down at your joint hands, hoping for perhaps more. But that would have to wait, because soon enough, he was whisked away by another responsibility.

On the fifth night of your sojourn there was a massive banquet thrown, the commemorative event that topped up your stay in the Zenin castle. You noticed all of the castle staff work frantically, finally breaking their eerie quiet to whisper rushed instructions and speed walk rather than float across the castle paths.

Riko grabbed a chest you had somehow not noticed among your belongings and pulled out a gorgeous burnt orange dress with golden leaf appliques that snaked across the sleeves and then over the chest. You were done up to the nines, taking Kento’s breath away as soon as you stepped out of your living quarters.

He stretched out an arm, and you walked towards him with a smile,

“Hi,” you smiled up at him, arm around his strong one.

“You look beautiful,” his eyes bore into yours, reciprocating your smile. You giggled, feeling that giddy rush again.

“You look beatiful,” Yuuji repeated at your feet, mirroring his father’s somber tone and making you laugh harder.

“You look regal as well, my little prince,” you offered your other hand for him to take, and he wrapped his fingers around yours.

Entering the ballroom was enough to gave you whiplash. The castle had been dark, gothic. And even throughout the events and parties organized during the week, things stayed muted with barely any frivolities.

But you guessed maybe they wanted to show out with the biggest event of all. The large reception hall was bursting with color. Wisteria bushes hanging from high ceilings, tables draped with opulent white fabric, gold embelishments spread out that sparkled in the chandelier light.

The rest of the assembly seemed as impressed with the assortments. Guests started to fill the room, walking around the hors-d’oeuvres tables in animated conversation.

The king, prince and you were directed to sit on thrones mounted on the tall dais that oversaw the room, next to the duke and his bethroted, a shy girl whom you had seen at one garden party and had talked to no one.

“Did you pick out the decorations?” You leaned close to her, asking the question with the kindest smile you could muster.

Her eyes widened, as if not expecting to be spoken to. She nodded slightly, still averting her gaze.

“It’s beautiful,” you offered, looking ahead in hopes of relieveing her discomfort. “You have an amazing eye for this. Could you show me how you pick them out some time?”

“O-Of course your majesty,” she spoke a little louder, and you offered her a last smile before turning to look at the assembly.

Though from the corner of your eye, you caught Naoya whisper harshly at her, unable to help the frown in your features when the poor girl folded more into herself.

The rest of the people continued to file in and the orchestral troupe stationed on a small platform to the right of the room began drawing out a slow tune.

Your eyes caught Mei Mei wearing a black dress with a feathered collar, her white hair styled in intricate braids. Haibara stationed near the entrance in his knight uniform. Ieiri wrapped in a midnight blue shawl who offered you a smile. And oh- this man again.

Tall, well-built, dark and brooding. His piercing green eyes held an unsettling quiet. You had seen him at every event, catching him watching, assessing. You turned to Kento.

“Who is that man? On the left, scarred lip?” You did not look at him again, somehow fearing that being caught watching the watcher would result in negative consequences.

“Toji Zenin,” Nanami breathed, bringing the back of your hand to your lips. “He’s somewhat of an outcast in his family. You need not be afraid of him,” the words were meant to be reassuring but you could not shake the feeling, the sensation of a pair of eyes on the back of you neck.

Finally the Duke stood to announce the beginning of the festivities, making a generic speech about unity, whose words you knew carried no sincerity. You all left your seats to go mingle with the rest of the crowd as the orchestra picked up and started playing a more festive tune.

Your little group was forced into a split, having to engage in the chore of entertaining guests even as guests yourselves.

Having a conversation with royalty was a priviledge whose luster did not seem to wane in a different land. The line for you was even longer now, given how open the king had been recently with his affections towards you.

As the conversations went by, it became apparent that you were being perceived as a political player. The aristocracy sure was quick to notice the ebbs and flow of power, and even quicker to position themselves as friend or foe.

Nanami sighed.

Soon after you started mingling, Naoya had retired to his quarters, leaving the assembly under the watch of the royal family.

How discorteous.

After a particularly tedious conversation with the old earl Yoshinobu whose insistence on tradition could tire even the most attentive of ears, Nanami closed his eyes for a second. He was tired, and itched to be in the company of his wife and child. His tolerance for formalities had somehow decreased even more in the span of the last few months. The longing for his family was now at the forefront of all his thoughts.

Almost naturally, his eyes drifted across the room in a sweeping searching for you.

He landed on your figure, still cordial as you engaged a lady whose name he could not bother remembering. Your shoulders and back were straight, but he could tell from the small falter in your smile that you were tired. Social battery exhausted but you pushed on.

He made a mental note to sweep you away and offer you another massage, something that had become part of your evening routines in the small quarters.

Now all left to do was to find his son.

But his eyes scanned and scanned the room to no avail. Suddenly he grew agitated, turning around with his full body. Yuuji never strayed too far. He understood how anxious it made his dad to be out of sight for too long.

His heart dropped.

Oh no

This trip had been the experience of a liteftime for the young prince Yuuji. Beyond being an amazing journey to a land he had never encountered before, he had had the chance to mesh with children his age.

In the child’s eyes, he had lived a very full life. Surrounded by his father’s great love, and more recently by your warmth. But jumping into the pool of adventures with other children brought along for the trip ignited a different sense of excitement in his heart.

He had especially taken to Nobara, the first daughter from a highly respected knight family, and child whose spunk far surpassed anyone he knew.

Mama and papa were so busy tonight, and as always the rest of the adults ignored him when he was not at their side.

His shoulders sagged slightly, walking towards the corner of the room where Haibara was stationed, knowing that his beloved uncle would at least entertain him while he waited for his parents to be done.

However, not even halfway there, a particularly energetic girl jumped into his path.

“Hi!” She beamed, hands resting on her waist.

“Hi!” Yuuji responded, waving rapidly though she stood but a couple feet away.

She hopped even closer, brown eyes wide and sparkling with mischief.

“Want to go outside? It’s sooooooooo boring in here,” she offered. Yuuji’s heart leaped at the prospect, but he refrained from showing his excitement, looking back in the direction of his father.

“Papa will get upset if I get away,” he shook his head.

“Ughh, he will be okay!” She spread her arms in an exaggerated motion. “Are you not bored?” She tilted her head. “I can sneak out really easily. I do it all the time at home!” She insisted, nodding along her words.

Yuuji chewed on the inside of his cheek, knowing in his heart that he should not, but feeling the pull of the temptation so strong.

“I will bring you back before they can notice,” she winked at him, and he immediately conceded.

“Okay!” His parents would be fine without him, right? Did you not encourage him to play earlier?

Nobara sure knew what she was talking about. Having grown up under constant supervision, she had learned how to evade the gaurds’ watch with astounding ease. Yuuji was already taking notes when they slipped out of the large banquet hall and into the quieter hallways, where flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows along the walls.

Before long, a game of tag broke out. The children darted through the halls, with stifled giggles until they heard the sound of maids heading their direction. Nobara yanked open the first door they found, and they ducked inside, holding their breath as footsteps passed.

When silence returned, they erupted into quiet laughter, high-fiving over their successful escape.

Just then, someone cleared their throat behind them, causing the two children to jump and turn sharply.

“You should not be here,” a boy’s voice announced.

He sat in the corner of the dimly lit office-like space with a book in his lap, dark spiked hair framing a deep frown. He could not have been much older than them, yet he regarded them with the same sternness as a disapproving adult.

“And who are you to say that?” Nobara boldly pointed at him, lips puckered in defiance.

“It does not matter who I am. You should go back to your adults,” he re-emphasized, standing up to face them.

“Where are your adults?” Yuuji inquired, tilting his head.

The boy frowned in return and Nobara grinned triumphantly.

“Aha! So you are hiding too. You can’t kick us out then!” She stuck her tongue out, chuckling to herself.

The boy grumbled under his breath, returning to his book with an even deeper frown.

Cautiously, Yuuji stepped forward, curious about what he was reading. But before he could ask, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed beyond the door—fast and deliberate, followed by hushed whispers. People were headed their direction.

All three children instinctively understood.

It was time to hide.

This was a hefty one, and in all honesty, I feel kind of iffy about the pacing towards the middle, but I felt the need to put it out regardless. Please let me know your thoughts!

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

Tag list: @bl3333h @ladygojooo @evans-dejong @flaneur002 @bopsigles

@taeteddybear @tylersaiddonteatbananas @starmapz @lucreied @cosmicbreathe

@abhootghiihii @amisuh @luvstama @tomiokasecretlover @ofcqdesi

@lazypostfandomer @qualitygiantshoepsychic @natsuyuki-w @ohh-takuuu @glads-stuff

@bakugouswaif @babewardkenway @fictowhore

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stardustrebels · 3 months ago

Text

More of You- Chapter 9

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader WC: 6.6k Rating: E / 18+ MDNI Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: No outbreak!AU, fluff, romance, Joel-typical pet names (darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, baby), soft!Joel, fingering, protected PIV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back, wears dresses and heels and wears makeup.

A/N: Who has two thumbs, was going to post this on Valentine’s day and then decided to re-write the entire thing at the last second? This guy! So apologies if you’ve been waiting for it, but it’s finally here and I so hope it was worth the wait! The slow part of the burn is officially over by the end of this chapter. Also, I’ll be honest with you, I’m a little blown away by the response to the Joel Miller one shot fics I posted pre- V day, and I’m so, so happy that people are enjoying them. It’s giving me the motivation to write more, challenge myself and take little steps outside my comfort zone. I’ve only been publishing my fanfic since December 2024, and I’m just so grateful to have been welcomed by such an amazing community of people who love these characters as much as I do. You’re all so wonderful and deserve all the love <3 Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

The weather that morning earned an involuntary noise of disgust when you pulled back the curtains; big grey clouds and heavy rain. You dressed and shuffled through to the kitchen before the temptation to climb back in to bed won you over.

Your laptop was on the table, still open after a late night of playing catch-up on projects with deadlines looming, the backlog since your trip almost cleared. The only thing left in your diary for the week was a momentous client meeting scheduled for Friday morning. Seeing the calendar entry staring back at you from the screen made your stomach swoop.

It was the kind of opportunity you would have given your left arm for six months ago, when you had thrown all caution to the wind in a moment of madness and quit your job to become a freelancer, armed only with a handful of loyal clients and sheer, grief-ridden determination. The kind of opportunity that had stayed present in your mind’s eye when the late nights had started to become all too much but you still took on new work to add to your portfolio, desperate to scratch out a place for yourself amidst a horrendously competitive industry. If you were being honest, you knew that it was a better opportunity than you would have ever had with the firm you left in New York, and it felt like everything that you’d poured in to your career over the last ten or so years had led to this.

You exhaled, closing the laptop with a quiet click. No pressure.

The remaining few pieces of work could wait until the afternoon. Spending the last couple of mornings with Joel had thrown off your self-imposed work routine, forcing you to work later than you usually did, but you didn’t mind.

The buzz of your phone ringing knocked you out of any daydream you were about to have about Joel. Your stomach lurched at the thought of a call at such an unsocial hour, but you huffed a laugh when you checked the screen, panic dissipating as soon as you answered.

“Please tell me this is not you phoning before you go to bed,” you said, balancing the phone between your chin and shoulder while you reached up to pull a cereal box out of the cupboard.

Summer groaned down the phone at you. “I wish!”

Her usual bright voice was dulled with tiredness as she told you she was on her way to a job interview and had forgotten her coffee, and that it was now your job to keep her awake while she drove there. You couldn’t help but giggle at her uncharacteristic malaise as you pulled a bowl from the cabinet.

“You’re a different person this early in the morning, Summer,” you said, sniffing the milk before you poured it over your cereal. You switched your phone to speaker to save her the noise of up-close crunching.

“And you’re somehow happier this early in the morning than you are the rest of the time,” She retorted. You were glad she couldn’t see the burning blush on your face when you admitted that you were meeting Joel that morning, and that it might have been adding to your good mood. After she’d let out a squeal, Summer seemed a lot more awake, demanding all of the details. You told her between mouthfuls of cereal vague details about New York, about how you finally got his number, about your walk with him in the park, finding out about his kid, holding hands and then finally, that he’d kissed you.

“Oh, this is all so cute, I can’t handle it!” Summer squeaked.

“It is kinda cute,” you admitted, swiping through your phone to look at the picture of the invitation Joel had sent over the day before, accompanied by a message telling you he’d made a dinner reservation, signed off with a couple of x’s, which had made your stomach squiggly. “We’re going on a date tomorrow night. He’s taking me to dinner and then an art gallery opening.”

“Oh my god,” Summer said with a laugh, “And to think you needed a push to actually talk to this guy. You’re welcome, by the way.” “Yes, alright, thank you,” you said dryly, shaking your head as you scrolled back up through Joel’s messages, smiling fondly down at your screen. “He is pretty great, Summer. I’m just not-”

“You’re just not nothin’!” She said, cutting through a yawn, “You’re having a good time and that’s all that matters.”

“I think you just want to live vicariously through me,” you said with a grin.

“Obviously,” she said, “I need to know every detail about this date. I’m talking everything- what you wear, what he wears, what you order, how you stare at each other over a candlelit dinner, how he won’t be able to keep his hands off you, how you’re totally going to invite him back to your place afterwards and-”

“Jesus, Sum,” you muttered, pulling on your shoes, hoping she didn’t hear the excitement laced through your half-hearted rebuke.

“Oh come on,” she whined. “He’s taking you to see art. You can’t tell me that man doesn’t have you weak in the knees already.”

She wasn’t wrong.

As you’d fallen asleep last night it had struck you that no one had ever looked at you like Joel did- the deep admiration present in those beautiful brown eyes was so intense that it stole your breath and sent tingles down to your fingertips. Spending time with him filled you with a funny feeling- like someone had shaken a bee hive and shoved it right in your chest cavity- the relentless buzz only increased the closer you were to seeing him again. It wasn’t just your knees that were weak, but you weren’t going to admit that to anyone.

“You still there?”

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, are you sure you should be focussing on my love life instead of your interview?”

“Rude,” Summer said, and you could practically feel the playful swat to the arm she’d have dished out had she been there in person. “But fine. I’ll have you know I’m here anyway, so you’re off the hook.”

“Good luck,” you said, glancing at the the clock on your stove. You needed to get moving if you wanted to get to Harrison’s on time. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Thanks, I will. And hey- have fun with your man today!”

“He’s not my man,” you said, knowing you’d lost that argument before you even spoke.

“Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

With a final knowing giggle, Summer hung up.

The lingering heat and morning rain had left everything damp and heavy, including you. By the time you made it to Harrison’s, Joel was already at your usual table, looking just as soaked- but unfairly good - his shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and damp curls sticking out at odd angles. He stood to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, murmuring his usual “hey, darlin’” before you settled across from him, still catching your breath.

You mentioned you wouldn’t be able to meet the next morning, and Joel’s concern sent a pang of guilt through you. You explained it was for an exciting work opportunity and his worry softened in to relief and then in to a proud grin as he listened, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

“Ain’t no way you won’t do great, sugar,” he said, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Then we’ll have another reason to celebrate tomorrow night.”

You tried prying for details about your dinner plans, but he only smirked.“You’ve got enough goin’ on tomorrow. All you gotta do is give me your address and be ready for six, everythin’ else is taken care of.”

You woke up two hours before your alarm on Friday morning, powerless to do anything other than stare at the ceiling as you tried to breath through the churning in your stomach. By the time you could have easily drifted off again it was time to get up. Typical.

Joel had sent messages for you to wake up to, wishing you good luck and reiterating that he couldn’t wait to take you out that night. You glanced at them periodically as you got ready for your meeting, and each time you did a pleasant fuzziness washed over you, sending a warmth rolling through your limbs, a calming sensation that you wished you could bottle.

Before you parted ways the day before, it had seemed that Joel had been unable to take his hands off of you for more than a minute, like if he let you go you’d float off in to the ether and never be seen again. And you had welcomed it every time. Each touch from him left you needing more, like a craving you would never quite be able to satisfy. When he’d kissed you on that corner again he’d seemed more reluctant than ever to leave you behind, pressing gentle lingering kisses to your lips, one hand grasping your hip and the fingers of the other cupping the nape of your neck, his calloused fingertips bushing over your skin with a tenderness that sent a slow, searing heat pulsing through you- twisting at the base of your spine and down your legs. Every time you’d thought about it since, the memory of it morphed in to a sensation within you that was utterly sinful.

You wanted him to know the effect he had on you, what his touch and kisses did to you and what they made you want to do to him. Instead you settled for texting back ‘Thank you, handsome. Can’t wait to see you later xx’. You wondered if he could sense that it was the understatement of the century. You just had to make it through the next couple of hours, and then Joel would have your undivided attention for the rest of the day.

The client meeting turned out to be a different beast than you’d expected. Of course you had joined the call prepared to discuss your work, processes and newly developed ideas for their branding, but almost immediately after introductions had been made it started to feel much more like a job interview and less like the semi-informal chat that you had anticipated. Their questions were pointed and detailed and you scrambled internally for what felt like an age to meet the tone whilst trying to keep a light and friendly attitude. It took a hot minute, but you adjusted and adapted, slipping in to a corporate headspace easier than you thought you could, as if the ability had been lying dormant all these months.

As the meeting went on and you began to share your portfolio with them, explaining past briefs and projects, some of the tension in your shoulders dissipated and you realised that you were more than holding your own. By the time the call ended, the knot in your stomach had loosened and been replaced with something unfamiliar but not unpleasant. You would hear at some point that afternoon whether the client had chosen to work with you, and you closed your laptop with an air of finality, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had done your best.

You could finally let yourself get excited about your date with Joel.

You had picked out what to wear for that evening on the same day as he had asked you out, and it had hung on the back of your bedroom door ever since; a simple black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a tiny embroidered detail around the hem that came to sit mid-thigh. You’d had to fish a pair of heels out of one of the unpacked boxes in your closet, and it took you longer to find your jewellery than it did for you to do your hair and makeup. When you were finally ready and looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a curious difference to you that you couldn’t name.

Your phone pinged, pulling you from your thoughts and you checked it with hands that were only trembling a little. You had to read the email three or four times before the words sank in: you’d landed the client.

By the time your buzzer sounded that evening, you had practically paced a hole in the floor. Joel arrived just before six, and you threw open the door to him as soon as he knocked.

The sight in front of you made your brain short-circuit for a beat before you remembered to smile. Joel didn’t seem to notice because it looked like he was having the same experience. He’d traded his usual worn flannel and faded denim for a smart tailored jacket atop a button down, dark wash jeans and shiny leather boots. His curls were pushed back, tamed and slick. You knew he cleaned up well, but you hadn’t expected this. He was clutching a bouquet of white roses and you saw the way his fingers gripped them tighter as his eyes fell over you.

You broke the silence first. “Looking sharp, Miller!”

He found his composure just long enough to chuckle and hold out a hand to gesture toward you. “And you-” he struggled for a moment to complete the sentence, shaking his head with wide eyes. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart.”

You stepped closer, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, but even the briefest touch caused the cascade of a molten desire from your chest to the pit of your stomach. His breath hitched-just barely- but you felt it. The scent of his cologne, sweet and woodsy, hit you and made it difficult not to linger against him even longer in the hope that it might transfer on to your skin so you could smell him even when he wasn’t near you. When you pulled back, his fingers brushed over yours as he handed you the bouquet. You thanked him, voice softer now, invited him in and turned toward the kitchen to find a vase, acutely aware of the weight of his gaze following you.

As you arranged the roses you were struck with the realisation that Joel was the only person who’d stepped foot in your apartment that wasn’t you. You bit your lip as you watched him look around from your spot in the kitchen, a lopsided grin on his face as he took in your space with quiet consideration. You’d cleaned before he’d arrived so that it looked its best, but having someone else there, examining the artwork on the walls and the trinkets on your shelves pried open a sliver of vulnerability you hadn’t expected.

“I like your place.” Joel said, stepping toward you again, having done a reasonably thorough tour of the living space in a couple of strides.

You grinned up at him, placing the filled vase in the center of your kitchen table. “Thanks. It’s cozy, but it’s home.”

He tapped his knuckle against a small photo booth strip pinned near the corner of your fridge. “That your friend from the coffee shop?”

You glanced over at it- you and Summer from her birthday party- her grinning wide, you mid-laugh, heads tipped toward each other. “Yeah, that’s Summer.”

Joel hummed, mouth twitching in to a grin as he leaned against the counter. “You know the day she was there I’d finally worked up the nerve to talk to you,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Had it all planned out: was gonna come over and ask you somethin’ corny and lame. Right as I was about to…” he gestured toward the photo with a coy smile.

You laughed, shaking your head. “If it makes you feel any better, she spent the next ten minutes before you left that day trying to get me to go over and talk to you. She’s very invested in the development of the time we’ve been spending together.”

Joel’s eyebrows lifted at that. “Oh yeah?”

You caught yourself and a heat crept up the back of your neck. “Don’t we have a dinner reservation to make?” You said, plucking your bag from the back of a chair and heading for the door.

Joel stepped ahead of you to open the door to his truck for you to climb in. Being in a space that was so uniquely his felt more intimate than it should have. The truck suited him- an older model Chevy, immaculately kept. The interior was spotless save for a pack of gum and a couple of coins in the center console and it smelled like fresh linen. You absently wondered if he cleaned it especially for you or if it always looked like this.

When Joel climbed in a moment later and you asked him where you were headed to, he only winked at you. Laughter bubbled up in your chest before you could help it, and he set off looking rather pleased with himself.

The restaurant wasn’t far, and as soon as Joel pulled up outside, you realised you knew about it through a recommendation from Summer. It was nice. You grinned at him as he rounded the front of the truck to open the door for you again. His hand came to rest at the small of your back and the weight of it sent a lick of fire curling up your spine. You resisted the urge to fidget as you were shown to your table, loathe to lose the warmth seeping through the fabric of your dress from Joel’s palm.

As you waited for your food, you considered that you didn’t think you’d ever met someone as outwardly comforting as Joel- his presence was like a warm hug, even from across the table and he didn’t even seem aware of it. You were enjoying the opportunity to openly admire him. His resting facial expression leaned toward a frown, you’d learned. It accounted for the deep lines that appeared, etched in to his brow easily as he talked, an expression that was clearly familiar to his face. It was his eyes that really spoke to his true personality- warm and open when he looked at you, young and boyish when they glinted mischievously as they were now. You were drawn to it- the paradox of this man. You came to the conclusion that he’d probably spent years curating a stand-offish reputation, but had failed to realise that his aura couldn’t be altered.

The candlelight added hazy flickers of light across you both. It glimmered in Joel’s eyes as he listened to you tell him about the outcome of the client meeting that morning, your own joy reflected back at you by him- the beauty of it made the world slow and allowed you to really take in the sight of him, like a memory you were aware was being stored, a saved snippet of time that you already knew would be something fond to look back on. When he raised his glass to toast your success, it broke the magic of the moment, but you didn’t have a second to mourn it. The clink of the glasses was soft, but the look Joel gave you after, over his glass, held an intensity that made it hard to keep your eyes on his, the low light now accentuating a hunger within them that made your pulse spike.

For a second, you wondered if you could end the night right there, drag him back to your apartment and lose yourself in the heat curling against your insides when he looked at you like that. You pressed your thighs together and shifted in your seat, eyes unable to hold his gaze any longer. He cleared his throat and when you looked back at him, any hint of the hunger had been masked by sweetness again.

Dinner was over in the blink of an eye. The food was tasty, although you barely noticed what you were even eating- too focussed on Joel, searching his face for any sign of the hint of lust you’d seen from him before, but it didn’t show again. He insisted on settling the bill after a short not-quite-argument with you about splitting it. “My treat, sugar,” he’d said in a tone that made it obvious you were never going to change his mind.

The gallery wasn’t far, but Joel insisted on driving there to save you walking in your heels, and his consideration for you made the heat building inside you whip around like a wild thing, impossible to ignore.

The sun was beginning to set, and it bathed everything in a lovely orange glow that was doing nothing to dispel the dreamlike haze that had settled over your evening. You turned your face toward it and basked in its warmth while Joel drove the few blocks to the gallery.

The entrance was marked by red velvet ropes and a matching carpet that stretched up to tall glass doors, and Joel’s hand tensed in yours as you approached them.

“You alright?” You asked, stopping him with a gentle tug when he didn’t reply, eyes searching his for an answer.

His gaze flicked past you and over the well-dressed guests milling around the entrance. “I’m just- this ain’t exactly my scene.”

You squeezed his hand and offered him a lopsided grin. “Just look serious and nod, remember?”

He gave you a sidelong glance and a smirk. “That’s… what I usually do anyway.”

“Then you’re already a natural,” you teased, brushing your thumb over his knuckles and leading him toward the door.

The hum of conversation inside overlapped and bounced off the modern concrete interior in a way that was mildly overwhelming. You were greeted by a well-dressed man at a makeshift reception desk, who exchanged Joel’s invitation for a gallery guide, which was immediately passed over to you. You let go of his hand to flick through it, happily soaking up the atmosphere as you suggested what to look at first.

You led Joel through the crowd at the entrance to find a quieter spot. The art you passed to get there was stunning, and you made a note to come back and look at those later. You ambled around a smaller gallery and Joel’s eyes flicked over each piece as you read mumbled excerpts from the guide aloud and added your own thoughts. You weren’t quite sure if the furrow of his brow was deliberate or not.

“You okay if I get us a drink?” He murmured, resting a hand against your back as he leaned in.

You gave him a reassuring smile and a nod, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be here.”

You watched as he disappeared toward the bar, briefly admiring the fit of his jeans before you turned back to the artwork, allowing yourself the opportunity now to fully take it in. The contemporary pieces that lined the walls were bold and chaotic, all by the same artist. One particular piece caught your attention: a canvas streaked with jagged lines of charcoal against an expanse of pale grey. In the corner there was one tiny circle of orange, painted to look as if it was burning white hot, its rings of light radiating and mixing with the drab background. You took a step closer and tilted your head to examine it. The sensation that it pulled from you was not unlike a sense of hope.

You startled, breath catching when a hand clutching a champagne flute appeared in front of you and let out a breathy laugh when you realised it was Joel standing behind you. You took the glass from him and he leaned in close over your shoulder.

“Fascinating use of negative space.” He said, agonisingly close to your ear. You exhaled loudly what you hoped sounded like a laugh and not a barely contained moan.

Your eyelids fluttered shut briefly as you leaned in to him. His hand gripped your waist in response and held you steady, body pressing against yours in a way that stole the air from your lungs. Certain that he was about to pepper experimentally bold kisses against your neck, you shifted under his touch in a silent invitation.

The titter of polite laughter echoing from across the gallery interrupted the moment and brought you both back to your senses. Joel moved to stand by your side, but his hand stayed firmly on your waist as you continued your tour of the artwork. You glanced up at him and caught the tick of his jaw before he managed to hide it with a smile.

You made it to the third room before Joel was intercepted by someone he knew. You were introduced to the project management team that oversaw the work undertaken by Joel’s firm, and didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed by his side when one of the team paid you a compliment and leaned in to peck a kiss against your cheek, totally ignoring the hand you’d offered him to shake and leaving you with nothing left to do but meet him in an awkward half-hug. As soon as he’d stepped away, you inched closer to Joel as the conversation moved on, leaning against him gratefully when his hand found the small of your back again.

The team introduced you both to some of the artists and soon enough you were separated, pulled in to different conversations until you were at opposite ends of the room, sparing glances through the crowd until you lost sight of each other completely.

Taking advantage of a lull in conversation with a very enthusiastic art collector, you managed to pull away and head back to the first gallery you’d entered. You’d long-since lost your guidebook and your glass of wine, placed down on a cocktail table and left behind at some point over the course of your conversations, but you knew you wanted to look at one piece again before you started your search for Joel.

You crossed your arms this time as you viewed it, standing closer and then further away, eyes fixed on the tiny orange glow in the bottom corner. It’d be easy to miss if you weren’t examining the piece, lost in the void of grey and black jagged lines. You only realised when you changed your viewing angle, that they were formed with paint into raised craggy bumps. You bent down to inspect the glowing orange dot and realised that the burning white centre of it was actually a hole in the canvas, made deliberately and then worked around. You stood and walked back to the middle to view it in its entirety one last time before you moved on, but you were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps walking toward you. You glanced round to see Joel, watching you with a tilt to his head and a grin on his face.

“Hey, darlin’. You alright?”

You nodded and reached for his hand when he was close enough.

“I think this one is my favourite,” you murmured. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you both viewed it. Joel stood quietly beside you, frowning at the painting as if he was really looking this time. He let out a low hum as he traced circles against the back of your hand.

“I think it suits you,” he said, voice rumbling through the top of your head.

You turned to glance up at him. “Oh yeah? How come?”

Joel fixed you with a look that was so warm you almost melted. “‘Cause you’re a little ray of sunshine, darlin’. You’re as bright as that dot there, and you don’t even seem to realise it.”

There wasn’t even time to take a breath before your lips were on his. He froze for a second before he exhaled sharply through his nose and kissed you back, smiling against your mouth. It drove you wild. You had never wanted anyone as much as you wanted him right now.

Cradling his face with both hands, you pulled back just enough to mumble, “You wanna get out of here, handsome?”

You don’t remember if Joel even said anything before you were walking out the door and back toward his truck.

By the time you made it back to your apartment, nothing could have stopped what was in motion. Joel had hardly taken his hands off of you since you left the gallery, apparently intent on driving you absolutely feral. He was starting to learn what types of touches affected you the most and was using his newfound knowledge to be an absolute menace. You’d barely made it in the door before his mouth was on yours again. His hands were everywhere, pressing you against him like he was starved and you were the only thing that would sate him. You pushed his jacket from his shoulders and started to fumble with the buttons on his shirt as his fingers mapped out your curves, like he was hell-bent on memorising every inch of you.

You pushed against him, gently guiding him backwards to your bedroom door and he let you take the lead. You kicked off your shoes, discarding them as your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, unwilling to let go of him for even a second. Your breathing quickened as the heat between you grew unbearable.

Joel backed up step by step until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. He paused, your face between his hands, his breathing matching pace with yours. When he spoke his voice was low, thick with restraint.

“You sure, darlin’?”

“Fuck yeah,” you breathed. “I’m sure.”

He lowered himself back on to the mattress with a grunt and his palms slid up your thighs instinctively as you climbed on to his lap. He began to press his kisses along the curve of your collarbone and up the column of your neck, dragging breathy gasps from you with each one.

His breath was hot, ghosting your neck as he murmured against your skin. “Wanted to do this all goddamn night.”

You barely managed to whine in response before his mouth was back on you, kissing over your jaw toward your lips. A shudder rolled through you and you rocked your hips, desperate for friction. He groaned against you and the sound poured gasoline on the fire that he had stoked since you left the gallery.

You wanted more. You needed more.

Your fingers rose to the zipper at the side of your dress and tugged it down. Joel’s hands stilled and his chest rose and fell with measured breaths, jaw tensing as you lifted the dress off over your head and unclasped your bra before throwing both pieces of clothing haphazardly across the room.

“Jesus,” he muttered, fingers twitching against your thighs as he drank you in.

You smiled, emboldened by his reaction and shifted your hips just enough to pull a groan from him when he didn’t move.

“You gonna just stare, Miller?”

Joel blinked twice before his lips parted with a groan. Your goading snapped him in to action and he flipped your positions in a blur of limbs, pressing you down in to the mattress with a kiss.

He stood and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, throwing it on to the edge of the bed. You watched him, biting your lip as he shrugged off his shirt, unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans and boxers, his hard length springing back up to hit the skin of his stomach. He knelt at the edge of the bed and traced his hands up your legs, ghosted past your thighs and curled his fingers round the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down with a reverence that made you whine.

He positioned himself back on top of you, retracing the movement with his fingers, inching toward your centre with maddening, teasing touches.

Your hands flailed around you for purchase in the sheets and your hips bucked up toward his hand. You whimpered- a plea for him to move his fingers where you wanted them most.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” he drawled, “You’ll get what you need.”

A moan broke from your throat with a jolt when he finally brushed his fingers gently through your folds.

He caught your lips in a kiss as he stroked up again and again, pressing featherlight touches to your clit with every one. A familiar tightness began to coil within you and your breaths quickened. Joel hummed in approval and brushed against your clit one last time before his fingers parted your folds and slid in to you. He curled them experimentally, pulling back to watch your face as he did.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes blown with lust as he took in your changing expressions at the pleasure building inside you. You clenched down and he pressed steadily against the same point with his fingers curled inside you. You were so close, and Joel knew it.

“Come on, baby,” he said, voice absolutely wrecked, “I’ve got you, come f’me.”

It was all it took to push you over the edge. Your release surged through you so fiercely that your entire body tensed before the flame curling against your spine sparked and sent molten hot tingles through your core and in to your limbs. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, followed by loud, unrestrained moans as you came undone for him. Your back arched as Joel continued, his fingers unrelenting as he guided you through every pulsing aftershock. You realised that he was speaking as your breaths returned to normal, murmuring praise against your temple, the sound his voice mingling with the thrum of your heartbeat.

You let out a soft groan as he traced slow circles over your clit with his thumb, stretching out the rolling pleasure of your orgasm until every last shuddering, breathless moan had been drawn from you. He finally slipped his fingers from you with one last pulse from your oversensitive nerves, and you whined in protest at the loss.

“You alright, darlin’?,” he asked, brushing his fingertips along your thigh. You offered him a hum in response, too dazed to string words together.

He smiled down at you, fingers tracing up your arm and along your collarbone before dancing light touches toward your nipple and you arched up in to his strokes with a breathy moan.

He shifted to kiss you, pressing his body against yours. His cock sat hard and heavy against your thigh and when you shifted against him he let out a sound so raw it made your stomach flip. You reached down, wrapping your fingers gently around his length.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, hips bucking in to your hand.

You stroked him slowly, and he tensed under your touch, flexing his hands against your hips with trembling fingers.

Joel reached for your wrist with a breathy chuckle, stilling your movements. “You keep that up, darlin’, and this’ll be over before we even get started.”

He pulled back to reach for his wallet and slid a condom from it. Mirroring your knowing smile with one of his own, he rolled it on with ease, and positioned himself at your entrance, waiting for a signal from you before going any further. You arched your body toward his in anticipation and after letting out a long, shaky breath. he slid in to you. Your moans mingled together as he filled you completely. Your nails dug in to his shoulders as the overwhelming fulness sparked a fresh flicker of heat low in your stomach.

“Christ, baby,” he murmured, shuddering above you. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You couldn’t muster the breath to respond, lost in the way he fit against you. Instead, you rolled your hips, coaxing a strangled moan from him.

That was all it took.

With a deep, throaty sound, Joel pulled back and thrust in to you again, dragging gasped moans from you with every grind of his hips. Slow and deep, he managed to hit a point within you with every thrust that sent white hot sparks flying through you. His breath came in uneven pants against your skin as he pressed closer, forearms braced on either side of your head.

“God, you’re so perfect. So fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, sliding a hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair and pressing his forehead to yours with care that would have made you sob had you been able to focus on anything. Each slow roll of his hips made you quiver, nudging you to the edge with every measured stroke. Joel hissed through gritted teeth at the sensation, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair.

“That’s my girl. That’s it, c’mon- let me feel it.”

His girl.

The words caused aching pleasure to crest over you like a tide, warm and all-consuming. You clung to him as it crashed against your core, almost taking everything inside you with it. The cry that broke from your throat was muffled by a high pitched ringing in your ears and for a second all you could see were bright white flashes, strobing over your vision so intensely you had to close your eyes against them.

You heard Joel’s groan, giving way to a string of hissed curses as he felt you tighten around him, his movements stuttering. He let out a choked cry as he dropped his head to your shoulder, the last of his control unravelling. His thrusts grew erratic and with a final shuddering breath, he followed you over the edge, his grip on you tightening as he let himself fall.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You didn’t know which way was up- you might as well have been catapulted off in to the stratosphere with how weightless your limbs felt. Joel’s lips brushed against your temple as he moved his hand to touch your cheek with slow, lazy movements. You opened your eyes to find his staring back at you and you let out a huff of disbelief before your face broke in to a wide smile.

“Holy shit,” you said as Joel let out a soft chuckle of his own in agreement.

You only moved when your limbs started to tingle with the threat of pins and needles. Joel disappeared momentarily to the bathroom before padding through and sliding back in to bed beside you. You curled in to him, peppering kisses over the freckles on his shoulder as he brushed lazy strokes up and down the curve of your waist.

“Will you stay the night?” You half-whispered against his skin. The words came out before you could really think about them, needier than you intended.

“‘Course I will, darlin’,” he breathed back. Even as he fought off sleep, his tone made you realise he hadn’t even considered the alternative.

The residual desire pulsing through you parted to make way for a curious sensation that swirled its way in to your chest. It dripped through the edge of your consciousness, building to a trickle, settling like a balm over the lingering pain there. Pain caused by the shards of your broken heart left to scrape away at your insides for months.

Joel pressed the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head and pulled you in to his chest. You sank in to him, listening as his breaths turned to tiny snores, and wondered as you drifted off alongside him whether he would ever know that he was the one who put the first tiny piece of your heart back together.

Next Chapter

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #soft!joel miller #ppcu fanfic #joel miller #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 author #fic writing #tlou fanfic #tlou hbo

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saturnville · 5 months ago

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echoes in the heights, terry richmond | chapter two

Synopsis: In the quiet town of Riverside Heights, Terry Richmond seeks a fresh start, but his growing connection with the guarded Elara Taylor forces him to confront the past he’s tried to leave behind—and the future he’s afraid to embrace.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!OC (Elara Taylor)

A/N: Unless you’d like to be removed, you must interact with a reblog and/or comment to keep your spot on the taglist. Enjoy!

Tags: @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @turn-thy-paige @theglamclosetsl

A/N/N: It took forever to post cause I keep changing the direction I want the story to go, so if you have suggestions, let me know. Comments and reblogs are highly encouraged and typically result in quicker updates. Just saying. Okay, enjoy.

Riverside Heights grew on Terry quicker than he anticipated. He had a routine that he followed strictly, making acclimating to a new environment more manageable.

Monday through Friday, he woke up at five to work out before his shifts, which were from eight in the morning to five in the evening. He had dinner with Ms. Willis every night, which Jackson often interrupted on Wednesday nights. On Fridays, he went to the grocery store after work, and on the weekends, he went to the park to read on the benches and attend service with Ms. Willis like he used to as a child. It was a modest routine but one he enjoyed.

It was a busy Saturday afternoon in Riverside Heights. A fair was happening in the town's heart at the community center. It was a child’s playground with games, food, drinks, and fellowship among its inhabitants. Terry didn’t have anyone to go with as Jackson had a date with his wife and still hadn’t made many friends. He didn’t mind it, though. It allowed him to mix and mingle with other members of the community.

He met a woman named Tanya. She was a “sweet Southern belle,” as she called herself. And sweet she was. She offered to drop off some of her famous peach cobbler that her husband deemed “God’s gift to Riverside Heights.”

“Thank you, Tanya.” Terry’s smile was as genuine as the sky’s blue hue. Small acts of kindness like hers felt like blessings, rare and cherished.

Her gapped-tooth grin shone brightly as she patted his chest. “No problem at all. Join us for Sunday football one of these days. My husband is tired of being around soccer lovers.”

Terry nodded. “I’ll be there.” Tanya bid her farewells again before skipping the small rides with her daughters. Though it was complex every day, interactions like those he had with Tanya, Ms. Willis, and Jackson made acclimation a bit more feasible.

He smiled to himself as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. It would be a good day.

Sometime later, Terry sat alone on an old bench munching on freshly made popcorn. His time at the fair had been a good one. Happiness and satisfaction were in the air and wrapped around him like a hug.

He glanced at his watch. He’d been at the fair for over two hours and was prepared to go home. He grunted softly as he pushed himself up on his feet. He adjusted his shirt and pants, swiping off popcorn kernels. As he turned, he met with Ms. Elara Taylor herself.

Outside of work, she seemed lighter and less intense. She wasn’t wearing her usual two-piece suit and skyscrapers, which she called heels. Instead, she wore a flowy summer dress, orange against her rich complexion. She was stunning.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said as she approached him. She was much shorter than usual without heels, maybe because she didn’t have to operate as a dictator when she wasn't at work. “Here alone?”

Terry tossed his empty popcorn container in a nearby trashcan and nodded twice. “I am. You?”

“I am. Figured I’d stop by and grab a churro,” she said, waving her dessert in the air before taking a bite. “How’s Riverside treating you?”

Terry could admit that her sudden change in demeanor had him suspicious. She was soft-spoken and flowy with her movements. And…she smiled. She never smiled at work. Her lips were straight, while her eyebrows were set in a deep frown. She looked beautiful when she smiled—if only she’d done it more. It was better than the scowl she walked around with all the time.

“What?” She said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “What do you mean I should smile more?”

Oh. He tended to murmur, but it would only be to himself. Too bad it happened out loud. Rather than attempting to take back what he said, albeit accidentally, he repeated, “You should smile more.”

Her head tilted, her straight hair following its movement. Her eyebrows furrowed as they do every workday, and the sides of her lips twisted upward. “I do smile.”

Terry chuckled and shook his head. He glanced at the sky briefly before bringing his gaze back to her. “You don’t. At least not at work. You look mean and like you never want to be bothered.” He crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at her.

Elara scoffed in disbelief and dropped her hands by her side. Terry’s eyebrows raised in amusement.“Yup, just like that.”

“You know what,” she huffed. “You are insufferable.” Terry cocked his head to the side. There was no way those words came out of her mouth. The woman who had men quaking in fear whenever she entered a room called him insufferable. He had to laugh.

Elara’s eyes narrowed at his laughter, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself. He had a cute laugh. He laughed with his whole body—shoulders wiggling, eyebrows raised, and all his shiny teeth on display. His usual beautiful orbs were almost unseen, and his eyes crinkled as each giggle tumbled from his lips. She’d never seen him this happy. “Glad you’re entertained,” she mumbled, her voice laced with mock irritation.

His laughter died down, and his smile shifted to a smirk. “I’m sorry,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “I’ve just…I’ve never heard anyone say that to me before. Especially you.”

Her head jerked back as she side-eyed him. She crossed her eyes as if challenging him. Her churro was long-forgotten as it dug into her arm. “And why is that?”

“You’re always so serious. I didn’t think insufferable was in your vocabulary,” he teased, leaning closer. Elara’s breath hitched. “Thought you stuck to words like unacceptable or insufficient.”

Elara rolled her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "You think you know me, don't you?

"I think I know enough," Terry said, his grin widening.

Her expression softened briefly, and she glanced away as if gathering her thoughts. "Well, maybe you don't know everything, Mr. Richmond.” He liked how she said his name, especially outside of work. It was more breathy and natural, like a breath. “People can surprise you.”

Terry tilted his head, intrigued. His eyes were locked on hers, and her gaze faltered just slightly. “Oh yeah? Like how you're surprising me right now by being... dare I say, fun?"

"Careful, or I might take it back," she quipped, pointing her churro at him like a weapon.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No need for violence."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "You're ridiculous."

They stood there momentarily, their energy shifting into something lighter yet layered. The sounds of the fair—children laughing, music playing, and distant chatter—filled the silence between them.

"So," Terry said, breaking the moment, "do you come to these fairs often, or is this a rare 'Elara Taylor, off-duty' sighting?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And if I said it was rare?"

"I'd say I’m lucky to witness it."

She blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. For a second, her usual defenses seemed to waver. "Well," she said, recovering quickly, "don't get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Noted," he replied, his smile softening. "But for what it's worth, you should let this side out more often. It's nice.”

Elara opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. This man had her loins stirring in ways she hated to admit. And she hardly knew him. So, instead, she glanced at her watch. "I should get going,” she said.

Terry nodded, sensing the moment had run its course. "Alright. Don't let me keep you."

She turned to leave but paused, looking over her shoulder. "And Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not as insufferable as I thought." With that, she walked away, her orange dress swaying in the breeze.

Terry watched her go, a bemused smile on his face. Maybe Riverside Heights—and its people—had more to offer than he'd initially thought.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #aaron pierre fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #rebel ridge #rebel ridge fanfiction #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond fic

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animehideout · 1 year ago

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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

GOJO SATORU X FEM! READER

PART 12

check out final part here

a/n: Hiiii I'm back with another chapter, only one chapter left till we reach the end if this story. I apologize for the late update, my schedule kinda changed and it got busier so that's why I wasn't able to write and post, but good news that I'm back now yay ✨❤️.

Anyways I hope you enjoy this part as well. Some Angst, so grab some tissues and a snack of course to munch on while reading 😀.

Enjoy your reading session, love y'all so much 🫶🏻

Not Proofread ❌ Slight smut at the end.

You took another glance around the room, but didn't dare to ask any of your students about him. You sighed in disappointment but forced a smile to not worry your students and look suspicious or sad. You hated to admit it even within you, but you wished he was there, holding your hand till you awake. But you woke up surrounded only by your students, it's not like you don't appreciate them or they're not enough, you just wanted another kind of feeling, and that feeling could only be with your husband, Satoru. Once again you felt neglected by him even in this terrible condition.

Megumi was too focused on you, he knew right away by the way your gaze was shifting in every corner, every face in the room that you were looking for Gojo, he knew you needed him.

"Ehm, I'll go get Gojo since you're awake now" he said in a reassuring tone without meeting your gaze, and left the room to look for him.

"Where the hell did he go" he mumbled to himself.

"Hm Megumi? Is Y/n awake?" asked Nanami

"Oh yeah she's awake, and she's fine! By the way, did you, perhaps see Gojo around?"

"He's not here"

"Then where?"

"He'll be here later, don't worry about him"

"Nanami Sensei! I. Need. You. To. Tell. Me. please! It's important " he insisted,

With a tired sigh, he spoke,

"Alright! he's at one of the interrogation rooms at Jujutsu High, probably interrogating Mei Mei-"

"or my father"

and without further words, Megumi headed to Jujutsu High to bring Gojo to the hospital, to bring him to your side.

"Hey Megumi wait" yelled Nanami but je was already gone.

*1st Interrogation Room*

"Happy now? Where's that usual dirty smirk at? Gone?" started Gojo as he looked down at Mei Mei who got both her hands chained to the chair.

"How dare you chain me up? A well respected Jujutsu sorcerer!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Oh no no trust me, after releasing Toji from prison, paying him to kill my wife and putting the Jujutsu community in terrible danger, officially you're no longer respected" he spat and started to walk away

"NO NO PLEASE WAIT! GOJO WAIT I BEG YOU! I did this for you!" she started crying,

"I did this for you Gojo, just for your sake. You know about the prophecy, I couldn't let her exceed you and become stronger than you, you're the strongest Gojo and it should remain that way–please, I wanted to protect you–" she pleaded desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks, each sob echoed in the vast empty room.

With a mocking chuckle, he approached her again and bent down till he met her eye level, tilting his head to the side, his blue eyes piercing through her soul,

"oh yeah?" he started

"Y-es, yes just for you Gojo" she said with a soft smile while sniffing.

"Hah, pathetic how hard you're still trying, how hard you're still trying to manipulate me and get me to believe your lies–lemme give you the real fact behind all of this, the fact is that you desperately wanted Y/n to die. You knew Y/n will become something, more powerful than any of us, and of course your jealousy, ego and hate were triggered because another woman effortlessly stole the show and your desperate ass always wants to be in the spot light, taking all the attention, you've always wanted to br known as the strongest woman sorcerer, the perfect match for me, the strongest man! But all of that collapsed when I married Y/n" he paused and pointed his index finger at her,

"You desperately wanted to be her, you envied her even at her lowest, you're obsessed with her to the point that you betrayed the jujutsu world. But lemme tell you something, Mei Mei, Y/n didn't only steal the spot light, she also stole my heart! I love my wife, I love Y/n so much and if you dare to think of any possible plan that could possibly get you out of prison to hurt my wife again, then I'll end you–" he said calmly in a serious and low tone, moving away from her to open the door and leave.

"–end me? just like you ended Geto?"

she wanted to trigger him, to hit his weakest spot, to make his heart ache like hers and to see him all vulnerable, but he swallowed it, even though the name Geto was killing him and slicing him to pieces for years. His hand clutched the door handle tightly, turning his head, side eyeing her,

"Yes I'll end you just like I ended Geto"

Then he shut the door, leaving her all alone.

Right then, she knew she lost Gojo forever, and her last attempt to convince him by bringing Geto was only another reason for him to hate her even more.

"NO GOJO WAIT, no! don't leave me here! GOJO PLEASE"

She begged and begged, but for nothing he's left already and outside that room her screams are inaudible, no one is able to hear her loud cries, no matter how hard she tries.

Gojo reached the other door handle, moving into the next interrogation room,

"Gojo Satoru, we meet again" said Toji with a smirk, his hair falling on his face, his lip bleeding,

"Toji Zenin"

"I go by Fushiguro now"

"And I don't give a fuck, you're a criminal either way"

"Oww, too salty Satoru"

"I don't have time for this kind of chit chat, what was your plan to do to my wife?"

"Kill her obviously, duh!" said Toji rolling his eyes

"You son of a bitch, and you're proud of that, I'm not allowed to kill you, that was the higher ups call so be thankful for that, or else I would have put you through the most terrible death you could possibly think of"

"Are you threatening me? besides it wasn't my plan, it was your side chick's plan"

"The fuck did you say?" said Gojo angrily, taking quick steps to Toji punching him once again, making his nose bleed.

Toji started laughing hysterically,

"Alright you win, you win for the second time Gojo Satoru, but I don't think you won her heart, pity all this effort to save her is for nothing"

"Shut up"

"What? You think now you'll live happy ever after? That you'll start over and become a happy couple? Nah you're egocentric, selfish and fucking arrogant, and you've never known love and never will, I've spent three days with her and I can tell she can't live with someone like you. Both of you are far away from each other, two extremes, too empathetic and too apathetic. She'll leave your ass"

"I SAID SHUT UP" yelled Gojo, once again punching him,

"G-gojo?" said Megumi as he opened the door and witnessed it.

"Megumi?" said Gojo and Toji at the same time,

Megumi looked at Toji with what appeared empty eyes, but in the inside his heart was breaking into pieces.. He shifted his gaze to Gojo,

"Gumi what are you doing here?" asked Satoru

"Came to see you Gojo, you have to go to the hospital Y/n is awake and she was looking for you!!"

"D-did she tell you to l-look for me?" he asked hia heart skipping a beat,

"Nah I just figured out, you better go now"

"Wait aren't you coming with me?"

"No, I have to talk to him"

"Megumi! You know you don't have to stay here, you don't have to talk to him, he'll soon get the punishment he deserves–"

"I know, but he's my father and I need to ask him why!"

"Then I'll stay with you, it's not safe!" he reached to grab Megumi's arm,

"Gojo, please! just go to your wife, she's waiting, don't make her wait any longer! I promise I'll be fine" said Megumi with a smile,

As soon as Gojo left the room, Megumi approached his father standing right in front of him,

"S-son!"

"Why? Why did you do that?" said Megumi in a cold tone,

"Son please!"

"You've almost killed one of my close friends! Y/n is not just a teacher to me, she's my friend as well! and now I can't even look her in the eye, you know why?" he paused, trying to swallow back the lump that formed in his throat making him struggle to talk,

"Because of you! because of the shame I'm feeling whenever I see her or remember that MY FATHER WANTED TO KILL HER JUST TO GET SOME DIRTY MONEY FROM MEI MEI"

"Megumi! you need to listen to me! I had to do that!"

"No, there's no excuse that can get you away for murdering innocent people, first Riko and now attempted to do the same to Y/n just because Mei Mei told you?"

"I did all of this for you, to buy a house, a house that we can all call home! Where we can be a family again, me and you!"

"A family?" said Megumi in a mocking way,

"Yes, we can try again, I can fix everything, and make up for the years that I wasn't by your side–"

"You know what dad!"

"Yes son tell me!"

"I'm glad you left when I was young, I'm glad Gojo raised me and not you, or else I might end up a criminal like you. If my mom was alive she'd be the most disappointed in you, SHE WONT EVEN RECOGNIZE YOU DAD!"

"Megumi don't say please!" said Toji, tears forming in his eyes,

Megumi's words destroyed him because he knows they were true, his wife would be disappointed in him if she was alive.

"You ruined my life dad! Enough of it, stop trying to ruin others' lives just for money, just because you were neglected by the Zenin clan! Don't make others pay for what your clan did to you..." he added, taking steps backwards to leave the room,

"Son wait please! I'm so sorry I caused you all this pain, I'm sorry I wasn't there–"

"Just forget you ever had a son, just like what you did with your humanity....goodbye -dad"

with that he closed the door forever, not only the room's door but the door in his heart that he kept open for his father, wishing that some day, he would repent and fix his mistakes even though he knew deep down they can't be fixed. And now he's finally ready to let go, he can never forgive him for all this mess, for all these mistakes that he willingly committed.

Unable to keep it inside, unable to hide his true, delicate, sensitive self, after maintaining the cold, strong image for too long as a coping mechanism for always feeling inferior than others for being parentless. He finally let out the child thay was kept locked inside, and finally broke down into tears. With each loud sob, his chest rose and heaved with sadness. He cried because of the shame he felt, and because of the fact he's now letting go of his father, once and for all. He cried alone, hugging his knees like a baby, till it became hard to breathe.

But was he alone really?

"MEGUMI!!!!"

That voice, the voice that used to annoy him for telling jokes non stop, for laughing really loud and not letting him sleep, that voice now is saving him.

He looked up, his eyes puffy and red with tears.

Yuji and Nobara running towards him, worried expressions drawn on their faces, their eyes wide since it was the first time they see their friend shed a tear. They finally reached him, joining him on the floor.

"Megumi??! what's wrong buddy what happened?" asked Yuji his eyes softening,

"Fushiguro? Is everything okay? Why are you crying did someone hurt you?" asked Nobara her voice shaking with fear and worry.

He just started at them, not saying anything single word. Looking ay their genuine worried and confused faces, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, realizing that his friends got his back, that they won't let him down and most importantly he realized that he doesn't have to feel alone anymore. They truly loved him and cared for him. He was too broken to realize that, he thought his dad abandon him because he hated him, so he grew up with that mindset; his father hates him let alone people out there. But now, finally realizing that love, friendship saved him, from himself, from his dark thoughts and now he can start anew.

Nobara waved her hand on front of his face,

"Hey Fushiguro??"

Without saying anything he hugged both of them, finally feeling the love he's been rejecting. Allowing himself to feel it for the first time and damn it felt good to have someone care for you, it made his heart at ease.

He hugged them really tight, refusing to let go, without hesitation they hugged him back in a comforting way, their warmth radiating.

"Awww Fushiguro-Kun is being soft" chuckled Nobara

"Shuh Nobara, we love this version of Megumi, geez didn't know you're a good hugger Fushiguro" said Yuji smiling,

"Aaaaa why'd you ruin the moment guys" groaned Megumi

"Nah nah we're sorry, we're just wondering where's the real Megumi and what did you do to him" she added,

"Nah it's the real Megumi here, you just unlocked a premium version. Get used to it" said Megumi pulling away from the hug a smile still decorating his face.

"Well for sure we'll get used to it" said Yuji and Nobara at the same time.

"Wait!! did you leave Y/n alone at the hospital, till Gojo arrives?" said Megumi in a moment of realization.

"Nah nah she's home now, we brought her at the dorms" explained Yuji

"Oh shit"

"What?"

"Gojo went to the hospital to see Y/n, so he won't find her there"

"Come on, he's a married man, his wife would tell him" said Nobara smirking

"Wasn't she supposed to spend the day there, till Shoko makes sure she's fine?" he asked again,

"Yeah but after you left the room to get Gojo she insisted to leave as well, she said she was feeling okay and doesn't need to stay there" exclaimed Nobara.

*At The Hospital*

Gojo pushed open the door of the room that you were in. A mix of anticipation and stress took over him, not knowing how he would behave in front of you, is he gonna hold your hand, kiss you? What was he going to say? Baby? My love? I missed you? All these thoughts disappeared when he found the room empty, devoid of your presence. Confusion clouded his features as he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the surroundings, trying to find any of your belongings, but there was absolutely nothing. Anxiety took over him, his heart racing inside his chest. He got really scared, thinking that someone abducted you, still terrified from the last incident that happened to you. With shaky hands he reached his phone to call one of his students, but before he can do he received a message from Nanami informing him that they moved you out of the hospital and took you to the dorms to rest there.

He let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding, calming down slowly.

With a heavy sigh, he sank onto the edge of the bed, blaming himself for not being there when you woke up.

*Flashback*

You laid unconscious on the hospital bed after being treated by Shoko. No one was there except Gojo. He held your hand tightly, staring at your soft features as you were in your pretty slumber.

"I'm here Y/n, my beautiful wife, my princess" he whispered to you as you slept.

"I'm sorry, please wake up..wake up so I can tell you how much I love you, how bad I want to make you mine, how I want to fix things and start anew with you as a true husband, a husband that will love you, care for you and protect you, I won't let anyone hurt you.." he paused, remembering the state he found you in, on the floor, bloody nose, shirt almost torn off, his body tensed up.

"I'll punish them for what they had done to you" he added and left the room heading to the interrogation rooms at Jujutsu High.

*End of flash back*

*Time skip, night time*

Your students and Nanami already brought you everything you might need; food, water, some snacks and some manga books that Yuji gave to you to pass time.

You laid your back on the bed frame, grabbed a bag of chips, a manga book and started reading enjoying your own company, trying your best to distract yourself from thinking about Satoru.

Engrossed in the pages of your book and in your own world, the soft rustle of the door opening brought you back to reality. You already knew who it was, it was your husband Satoru. Even though, you were distant from each other, you got used to his footsteps. He closed the door behind and greeted you gently,

"Hii Y/n"

However, you remained absorbed in your reading, refusing to look up at him or even greet him back. He thought you were too focused on the book and didn't notice him arriving so he cleared his throat, attempting to get your attention this time and said,

"A-are you feeling better now? How's your leg?"

But again you remained silent, as if he wasn't in the room, as if his voice was inaudible to you. He received the message and realized that you don't wanna talk to him, and he respected your decision, he chose to not push too far especially that you're still traumatized from what happened to you.

With a resigned sigh, he took some clean clothes from the dresser, and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower that might wash the tiredness away. The sound of the running warm water that fell on his body mingled with the quiet of the room, a gentle reminder of the distance between you and him.

You put the book on your nightstand, and shut your eyes, you tried to go to sleep before he joins you again, you've already took your decision, you'll ignore him, you'll distance yourself even more, you won't let him pity you and help you because he feels sorry for what had happened to you. You refused to be the victim, you won't allow anyone to feel bad for you.

...

Opening the door again, he found you fast asleep, hugging your pillow for comfort. He smiled to himself as he saw your sleeping face.

He missed being in your presence, even if you were only sleeping. He dried his hair and then gently approached the bed, already dressed in his pajamas. The mattress sank as he joined you, getting under the covers. He used his elbow to keep himself up a bit while he watched you sleep. Your pouty lips that he craves to kiss, your soft skin that he wants to caress, your chest that rose and fell with each breath. It was the small details that made him fall for you, that made you so special. He was watching and watching till your comfy sight lulled him to sleep, and now he joined you, his head next to yours, his arms fell on your waist as he spooned you. Finally both of you not only sleeping under the same roof again all safe and sound, but being this close to each other.

.....

You woke up in the morning to him all over you, his arm laid comfortably on top of you. You rubbed your eyes, thinking it was a dream but it was reality. As much as it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, it made you feel sad as well. And the small smile that instinctively formed on your lips, disappeared.

"Maybe he just rolled over" you said to yourself, still convinced that whatever he was doing was everything and anything but love.

You pushed his hand away, getting ready to get breakfast with the rest of teachers and students as well. You missed those mornings, with Nobara talking nonstop, Panda eating everything on the table and Nanami annoyed whenever principal Yaga announced a new mission. You felt like family, you felt included but it's always something missing, the true love, the love of your husband.

It is indeed hard to live a one sided love story, realizing your feelings towards Gojo were more of a problem than a realization, maybe it could have been a lot easier if they remained undiscovered, because starting from today you'll live with the fact that your husband that you fell head over heels with doesn't reciprocate your feelings, at least that's what your mind told you.

The mind works in mysterious ways, sometimes when you're used to some kind of feeling, it becomes like a drug, so when you experience another feeling you always find a way to include that specific feeling again. And that's the case for you, you've been feeling lonely and unloved your whole life, and you thought you'd be feeling that way for the rest of your life not even giving yourself a chance to ask if he feels the same.

...

You walked towards the table, the food was ready, the scent of coffee was intoxicating. Your students already there, excited for food like every single morning.

"OH Y/N - SENSEI GOOD MORNING" said Yuji excitedly,

"Good morning Sensei" said the other students in union with a big smile.

You nodded smiling at their morning energy that was circulating in the air,

"Good morning everyone"

Nanami and Shoko joined, followed by Principal Yaga and then Gojo who came running and out of breath looking for you, but then letting a deep sigh once he saw you sitting around the table safe and happy. It became his new freshly unlocked fear; you not being by his side.

"Oh you're here" he mumbled,

"Huh Gojo what's up with that face? did you see a ghost?" said Principal Yaga

"I'm fine" he shrugged and then joined you, sitting on the chair that was right next to you.

He gazed at you, clearing his throat,

"You woke up early today, I thought about bringing you food to bed so you don't have to tire yourself" he started almost whispering.

You shoved the spoon full of rice in your mouth, not bothering to look at him. The others exchanged gazes but started eating shortly, not wanting to get into your business. Gojo started eating as well thinking about ways to approach you or find a key to start even a small conversation and get you to talk to him.

"So Y/n are you feeling better?" asked Nanami

"Yeah much better actually, thank you Nanami!" you smiled,

And Gojo felt his heart crash, as if he received a stab right in the chest. He wished it was him you were smiling at.

"Yuji can you pass me the salt please?" you said gently,

but before Yuji could reach it, Gojo already snatched it from in front of him and gave it to you,

"Here!" he said with a silly smile,

You poked the inside of your cheek and took the salt from him not even looking at him.

"Um Y/n–" started Satoru but you cut him off by starting a conversation with Yaga sensei.

"By the way Sensei, I feel like I'm ready to start teaching again–"

"WHAT NO!" yelled Satoru

You raised your eyebrow,

"You need to rest Y/n, you've been through a lot" he added worriedly.

But you ignored his concern and his comment and shifted your gaze to Principal Yaga again,

"My students must be missing my classes"

"But y/n Gojo is right! You need to rest! it's been only one day" exclaimed Principal Yaga

"I'm feeling okay!" you said smiling.

"Alright then, do as you please but don't tire yourself, okay?" said Yaga sensei with a smile

You nodded smiling.

"Y/n please, you've been through a traumatic experience, this phase is the hardest even if you're not realizing it" said Gojo with worried eyes.

But you ignored him again, getting up from the table, wiping your mouth with a napkin heading to your room to get ready for a day full of teaching.

......

It was a long day full of laugher with your students, they did everything they could to make sure you were comfortable and happy. Especially Yuji he acted extra silly to get you to laugh uncontrollably. They wanted to help you forget about the terrifying experience as soon as possible.

You were in the balcony at night, enjoying the night sky, getting back to your favorite night activity, watching the stars. It always put a smile on your face. It reminded you of how vast our universe is and how small our problems seem in front of it.

"sensei?"

You looked back,

"hm Megumi? are you okay?"

"Yeah! is it okay if w-we talk a bit?"

"Sure Gumi, tell me!" you replied with a soft grin, now giving him your full attention, anticipating his words

"I–I w-wanted to apologize!" he said looking down at his feet unable to meet your gaze

"Hm? for what?"

"I - I'm sorry sensei, I'm ashamed of what my father did to you, he doesn't represent me, I'm not like him and I completely oppose it, always been I–" he said nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

"Megumi" you started, placing your hands on his shoulders,

"I know who you are! I know how kind, caring and loving you are! You don't need to apologize, you don't need to explain anything. It's not your fault that your dad chose the wrong path, so don't ever blame yourself! Stand proud Megumi! You are an amazing student, an amazing person and an amazing friend of mine" you insisted giving him a light squeeze.

"Really?"

"Yes you are! Don't ever doubt yourself! come here" you added and pulled him into a warm hug.

.........

*2 days later*

"Yaga sensei, since Toji is in prison now what about Y/n and I go back to our house?" suggested Gojo.

"Huh? Why the rush you don't like it here?"

"No it's not like that, it's just since our marriage we had to live here so it would be nice to go back to our own house"

"I like it here" you said out of the blue, showing that you refuse to live with him in a vast house alone.

"But y/n, our house is big, you'll feel more comfortable there, our room is waiting for you–"

"Oh Yaga sensei I thought about making a writing test as well not only a practical one" you said cutting Satoru off, as if his words didn't matter.

Starting a new conversation, totally neglecting him. Everyone around the table noticed it but have no right to interfere. Your inside was screaming, wanting to give in and move back to your house again where you can live only you and your husband, enjoy each other's company and privacy but it was complicated, life is not a movie scene and you can't wipe away the bad memories easily.

*Time skip*

You were in the balcony, waiting for the sunset. You've been lying to yourself, thinking that teaching again and distracting yourself with some jokes would make you forget about the hell Toji and Mei Mei put you through. You were already suffering from anxiety and this incident made it worse. You were getting a good night sleep just because you were using the pills that Shoko gave to you or else you'll wake up screaming from your night terrors, from the trauma you had lived. You started getting random panic attacks whenever you were alone, your hands would get all sweaty and start shaking, cold sweat dripping from your forehead and you felt like being choked.

Maybe it would have been easier if you told them what you truly felt and not pretending to be okay. Maybe it would have been a lot easier if you confessed your true feelings to Satoru even if he rejects you.

A tear rolled down your cheek, knowing that it got worse and that Gojo did a mistake by saving you. Maybe the world would be a better place without you. You felt useless and a heavier burden now, going back to teaching to prove yourself useful in something, only to find your students pitying you and trying to help you instead of you helping them. With a deep breath, lost in your thoughts, you came to a conclusion, that leaving is the best option. It's been weeks and your curse didn't break, and you've already lost faith that it would break, and you can't live on false hope that one day you'll become a sorcerer and make your family proud. You feel like your husband that was forced to marry you, is now forced to take care of you and treat you differently because you were the unlucky one to get kidnapped by one the most dangerous murderers. Your family won't accept you or treat you fairly as long as you remain a monkey with no curse energy.

"It's all related" you chuckled to yourself,

You checked your phone, and credit card, already clothed in your jacket to protect you from the cold.

You took a moment to watch the sunset first, it was mesmerizing, the color degradation representing different phases.

"Sunsets are a living proof that endings can be beautiful too" you said to yourself.

You started walking away, leaving Jujutsu High behind, not knowing where your legs would take you but at least you know you'll be safe, Mei Mei and Toji are in prison now. You just wanted to get far away from everyone, you knew you didn't fit anywhere, you don't belong anywhere. So maybe you'll start as a normal simple human, with a normal simple job. It broke you to run away from them, you considered them a family and you knew you'll carry all those beautiful memories with you whenever you go, but what broke you the most, is leaving Gojo without a proper goodbye, but for your self-respect you chose not to give him another reason to feel sorry for you.

*Time skip*

"SENSEI! SENSEI HAVE YOU SEEN Y/N?" asked Gojo as he rushed downstairs after asking literally everyone and they said no.

"No!"

Panic coursed through his veins,

"Sensei what if someone abducted her again?"

"Relax Gojo, she's not a kid I'm sure she's safe, Toji is imprisoned so is Mei Mei, I'm sure she just went for a night stroll"

Gojo looked at him in disbelief, and left Jujutsu High and start searching for you, maybe he's being paranoid now and scared by the slightest thing but he can't afford to lose you, not again.

...

He searched everywhere, anywhere possible, he even went to Mei Mei's house to make sure you weren't there even though he knows damn well that both of them are paying for their mistakes. He check every corner, every street, every alley but you're nowhere to be found.

He started sweating, his heart hammering against his ribcage, feeling the sky narrowing around him and suffocating him.

"Where are you y/n, please!" he said to himself.

He paused when a thought crossed his mind, he knows you're a space enthusiast. You enjoy watching the clear night sky and chase the stars, but to do so you need an excluded area, away from Tokyo lights. A hill 2 hours away from Jujutsu High, but it's Satoru, he doesn't need 2 hours to reach that hill in a matter of seconds he found himself there.

It was dark, but he could see a figure standing, head's up to the sky. The city light bellow on full display. He knew right away that it was you. He wanted to announce his presence to not scare you, so with a soft voice he spoke,

"y/n?"

Yoh turned around, looking at him in disbelief. Without saying anything you started to walk away but he rushed towards you and grabbed your arm,

"Wait y/n please talk to me!"

"Satoru leave me alone"

"No! no I'm not leaving you alone, not this time! Why are you ignoring me? Why are you being being so cold towards me? I understand it was my fault and I'm so fucking sorry about it but please talk to me–"

"Satoru! For god's sake, let me go, let me live, let me try a new start away from all of this"

"Why? you can start anew here? with us! with me!"

"No you don't understand! I don't belong to your world, I don't belong here! I'm sick of it" you explained a tear fell down,

"You belong with me y/n, please let me help you"

"I don't fucking need your help, I don't need anyone's fucking help, I'm tired of being the one in need, I'm tired of being the one who needs to be saved. Because no one of you will, and because it's so fucking degrading, I'm sick of myself, sick of not being able to protect myself-"

"Y/n you're not realizing your potential, please don't rush things!"

"Don't rush things? It's been weeks Satoru and nothing worked, I can't let you go through this, you deserve to be with someone like you, you deserve to be with someone strong, a sorcerer not a talentless human. It's over okay!! I was ready to send you the divorce papers so you don't need worry about anything, I'm no longer a burden, and you won't take my responsibility, I know you're sick of me and of all this prophecy shit" you paused,

looking straight into his blue eyes, if you could trade the night sky for his eyes then you would, you would choose to look deep into those blue canvas. You wanted to take into his face, to stare longer memorizing his features so they take a longer time to fade from your memory.

"Rejoice Satoru, you're free!" you said and freed yourself from his grasp, walking away,

His heart beats escalated, watching you walk away. No it can't be, you can't leave him, not when he realized that he couldn't breathe without you, not when he realized he can't sleep without your scent in the room.

"No, you can't leave me"

He grabbed you again, pulling you against him,

"I can Satoru, that's what you fucking wanted so don't act like you don't want it"

"I'm not acting, I don't want you to leave"

"Why? So you can feel less guilty by making it up for me even if you don't want it?"

"NO!"

"Then fucking why?"

"BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!"

A moment of silence fell over the place, looking into each other's eyes, only your heavy breathing is being heard,

"I love you y/n, I love you so fucking much that I can't take it anymore, I love you that the only thing I can focus on is you, I lOVE YOU THAT I WOULD GIVE UP HEAVEN IF IT MEANS I GET TO BE WITH YOU, BECAUSE YOU'RE MY HEAVEN Y/N, YOU'RE MY BLESSING. I WAS YOUR CURSE AND I HATE MYSELF FOR THAT, BUT LOVE, LOVE MADE ME A FOOL, A FOOL FOR YOU"

You didn't say a word, you were too shocked, words still processing in your mind. You froze, trying to figure out if it was a dream or a reality. But when he crashed his lips on yours, you knew it was real, by the way his soft plump lips felt on yours. His big hands grabbing your waist pulling you towards his body that was screaming, yelling for you, for your touch. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation, a sensation you dreamt of for many nights, and days. Daydreaming, wondering how his lips would taste.

Instinctively your hands moved around his neck, pulling him closer. Your breath mixing, breathing each other in and out. Kissing each other so passionately as if your lives depend on it as if the world stops rotating, the clock stops ticking, and humans stops breathing. Only you and him in a vast world.

He pulled away, intoxicated by your taste, his eyes full of love and lust at the same time, growing impatient as the seconds passed by, the he spoke with a foggy voice,

"Let's go to our house, our home, tonight I'll make you mine and you'll make me yours.. let me do your duty as your husband, allow me to get a taste of you and get a taste of me"

Your chest rose and fell, feeling the electricity run in your system, turning you on even more.

"mhm" you nodded, you'd follow him everywhere even to your decease.

You were ready to finally give yourself to him, to allow him to do as he pleases to you and you do as you please to him. Finally, a few moments till you become a real husband and wife, a few moments till you taste heaven.

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dailynnt · 2 months ago

Text

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 5/?

⋆˙⟡ From author: And that's chapter 5 for you 🫶🏻 Tell me what you think about Jungkook’s proposal, will it be interesting to do it Y/N? I think so! Guys, due to my busy schedule at work, I will be posting chapters on weekends, but if it comes out faster I will post it right away. I love you all and thank you for being there for me, I need your support so much do not fade in this horrible world (by the way, a new song ‘MONA LISA’ of Hoseok, I'm just obsessed with it 😭❤️‍🔥😄)

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 5. A Game of Love for Freedom

You were sitting in the back of a taxi, staring at the dark screen of your phone. The windows of the car were slightly fogged up, and you could only see blurry jumbles of the city's buildings, changing one after another.

The taxi driver was driving silently, and the radio was playing some calm instrumental music. But there was no calm music inside you - only the hum of anger and frustration. You barely managed to slip out of the office before someone saw you. The journalists. They were already waiting at the entrance, armed with cameras and questions you didn't want to answer.

It was all inevitable. The news of Jungkook's new "girlfriend" was spreading at an incredible rate. Almost all the tabloids were not too lazy to write about you, and it was better not to read the comments on the articles at all. From now on, you are no longer just an employee of ‘EON Creative’. You are "his lover".

Your life no longer belonged to you.

You bit your lips nervously.

It was because of him that it all started. He was the reason you lost your job. Because of him, you had become a sensation to be savored on the Internet.

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter as you typed a short message

📱 You: "Where are you?"

And pressed "send".

The answer came much faster than you expected. The phone vibrated literally a minute later. He answered:

📲 Jungkook: "Who’s that remembered my phone number?"

You felt everything shrinking in your middle. You hit the screen with your fingers.

📱 You: "Where are you?"

You ignored his words and repeated your message. You looked expectantly at the three animated dots that indicated that he was typing a message.

📲 Jungkook: "Oh, so you already looking for me now?"

After a second pause, another message came:

📲 Jungkook: "I thought you already deleted my number. What? You missed me? 😏"

📱 You: "We need to meet! Immediately!"

📲 Jungkook: "Immediately? What a tone... Are you always this demanding or is it just for me?"

You were already angry, but Jungkook seemed to be your curse, making you become absolutely evil.

📱 You: "Jungkook, I'm not in the mood for your jokes."

📲 Jungkook: "And I'm not in the mood for your orders."

You hit the phone's touchscreen even harder. You started shaking with anger.

📱 You: "Just fucking tell me where you are!"

Jungkook was silent. You stared at his last text message, waiting for a response. He's just playing with fire.

📲 Jungkook: "It depends on what you need me for. If you need to cry, I'm busy. If you want something interesting... maybe I can find a minute 😉"

You roll your eyes, trying not to throw your phone out the window.

📱 You: "Jeon, did you even see what happened?

📲 Jungkook: "What happened kitten?"

📱 You: "Are you being on the internet? All of Korea knows, and you seem to be the last who’s knows that I'm your lover!"

Jungkook didn't answer for a minute. He kept you waiting. You could not stand it and wrote your question again.

📱 You: "We need to talk about it!"

Jungkook didn't answer. You locked your phone and almost cursed out loud. You sighed heavily, feeling tired of everything that was happening.

Your phone vibrated and you quickly opened a chat with Jungkook.

📲 Jungkook: "I can only be free after 6 p.m. So if you want to come over in the evening, let's talk."

You looked at his text message and were unhappy. Did you really need wait all day?

📱 You: "Hey, are you serious, this is important! I can't wait until the evening!"

📲 Jungkook: "And I can't change my schedule because of your tantrums."

You clutched the phone in your hand, trying not to explode. He really got you.

📱 You: "Tantrums? Are you kidding me? Because of you, I got fired, my phone is blowing up with calls, idiots from the press tracked me down under the company, and you're just going on with your life as if nothing happened?!"

📲 Jungkook: "I can't write anymore. Let's talk in the evening. I'll write when I'm free."

Jungkook left the chat and you wanted to tear yourself apart. You were so annoyed and angry. You locked your phone and closed your eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You didn't understand why you deserved to be put through such a trial. Where on earth did Jungkook come from? Why did you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend? But now nothing could be changed, only the problem had to be solved, and you were going to give the culprit of this situation do it.

You got out of the car, paid the taxi driver, and quickly went up to your apartment. As you exited the elevator, you noticed the package with the dress you had left under Jungkook's door. It stood untouched and you involuntarily felt nausea. Because this dress was a vivid reminder of your mistake. You looked away and walked past, simultaneously thinking that Jungkook was either not home all this time as you had thought or he had simply ignored your return and left this package just standing there.

You entered into your apartment. There was silence outside the door, but even that didn't bring you peace. You took off your jacket, threw your phone on the couch, and went into the bathroom. You washed your hands and looked in the mirror. You looked... depressed. Your eyes were a little red from tension, your lips were pressed into a thin line. You'll have to wait for Jungkook all day. Maybe it's for the best. Your anger will calm down and you'll be able to tell him normally, without yelling, that he's to blame for this whole situation and he personally has to solve it in a matter of days!

You did not know what to do. You were in such a state that you wanted to cry and drink until you passed out. But you didn't want to drink alone, and Jisu wouldn't be free until 7:00 p.m., so that wasn't an option either. She was working right now and your chest was tight with the thought of work.

So when you left the bathroom, you sat down on the couch and focused on your phone. You wanted to order some food. Yes, delicious food will help to quench your irritation and raise your mood, which was lower than the level of the Mariana Trench.

You wanted to open the food delivery app, but instead your fingers clicked the browser icon and you saw a bunch of articles similar to the one you read in the morning. The photo was the same, but the headlines were different:

"Who is the mysterious girl who enchanted the heir to the ‘Jeon Group’?"

"A romantic night at a corporate party: Jong Jungkook and his new passion?"

"Their looks speak for themselves! A secret romance within the walls of ‘EON Creative?’"

And even worse were the comments that you knew you shouldn't read, but you were curious.

"Of course, another one who wants to make it to the elite."

"Is she even pretty? You can't see her face."

"Ha, she's just using him! Poor Jungkook, I hope he doesn't waste money on her."

"Why do all the girls who get spotted with him think they're special?"

"Well, if Jungkook likes girls like that, I have bad news about his taste."

"Of course, another one who sleeps with the bosses."

The last comment made you throw your phone on the couch and run your hands over your face tiredly.

It was so unfair.

You were made out to be someone you weren't. Everyone around you was just talking about you, as if you were no longer a person, but just an object for gossip.

You got up and went to the bathroom. You turned on the water and listened to the sound of it, and it calmed you down a bit. You undressed and when the bathtub was sufficiently filled with water, you got in and tried to relax.

The hot water enveloped your body, and for a few seconds you allowed yourself to close your eyes. The heaviness in your chest eased a little, but the words you read still echoed in your head. "Another one who sleeps with the bosses." That was the most offensive thing. The most painful.

You had never looked for easy ways, never sucked up to your bosses to get promoted. You worked your ass off, even doing extra tasks to maintain a good reputation. And now it's all ruined. Because of one man.

Your lips pressed together, and you took a deep breath.

Giving yourself an hour to calm your nerves, you stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping yourself in a towel. You heard the sound of the message. Your heart skipped a beat - Jungkook? Had he gotten off work early?

You walked over to the couch and picked up the phone. The message was from Jisoo.

📲 Jisu: "How are you? I saw the articles. It's just horrible. Has Jungkook done anything yet?"

You bit your lower lip as you typed your answer:

📱 You: "No. But we have to meet up. What about you? How are things at work?"

📲 Jisu: "Like a tinderbox. Everyone is talking about you and Jungkook. The boss is angry, but it's more because of the press attention. He says it's bad for the company's reputation."

📱 You: "So it's nothing new... 😑"

📲 Jisu: "Yeah... But I'm here for you and if you want to talk, I'm ready."

📱 You: "Thank you dear, we will definitely talk about it..."

You exhaled and put the phone down on your lap. It was a little easier to know that Jisu was supporting you, but it didn't change the situation. You were still the center of the scandal.

Throwing the towel on the back of the couch, you went to the closet and dressed in a white short top and black sweatpants. You tied your hair in a careless bun to keep it out of your eyes. Your nerves were on edge, so you ordered some food: spicy fried chicken and beer.

In the late in evening, it started to rain outside. It was pounding on the window sill, making a lot of noise. You looked at the clock on your phone. It showed 7.28 p.m. It was as if Jungkook was playing on your nerves on purpose. He said he'd be free after 6:00 p.m., but it was already half past eight and you hadn't heard from him.

You had been lying on the bed for several hours, but you were boring. You got up and stretched your muscles when you heard your phone vibrate. The screen showed an incoming call from Jungkook. For some reason, your heart started beating faster. You grabbed the phone and put on the green button.

"Hello." Your voice was reserved.

"I'm under the house, come down to my car. I only have ten minutes."

You raised your eyebrows.

"Really? You kept me waiting all day and now you only have ten minutes?"

"If there's something you don't like, we can talk another time." he said nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes and exhaled in frustration. You are a ball of nerves today.

"Why can't you lift up?" you asked as you walked to the front door to go downstairs to see him.

"I have to leave immediately after this, and I don’t want to waste time. So if you want to talk, lift your sweet ass and come down to me…" You could feel that he was saying it with a smile.

"Okay." you growled and hung up the phone. You put on your sweatshirt, pulled the hood over your head and left the apartment.

It was wet outside and the rain was pounding down on Seoul at night. You saw Jungkook's black Maybach GLS. It was parked right in front of your door. You quickly got into the front seat, but the rain still managed to get you a little wet.

Jungkook gave you a quick glance and then focused on the road ahead. He pulled out of the driveway to go to a place where his car wouldn't be in the way.

"Did you get wet?" his voice was relaxed, even if you could tell he sounded tired. It was the first time in your life you'd ever seen him sound so preoccupied.

"Of course!" you pulled off your hood and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look normal. "Not everyone has a security guard running around with an umbrella whenever they need to."

"I don't have security either. And you could have brought an umbrella with you." He gave you a quick glance.

"You made me run up here instead of going upstairs like a normal person!" you protested.

Jungkook didn't answer, but the corners of his lips twitched. Obviously, he found your indignation amusing. Jungkook stopped the car in an open parking lot on the street and when he finished parking, he turned to you, still smiling slightly. He looked calm, even a little relaxed. His hair was perfectly styled with a parting in the middle. His black shirt, unbuttoned at the top buttons, and dark jacket made him even more... dangerously attractive.

You looked at him that to you could to show him your anger, and you felt your stomach lurch. Did you just feel fucking butterflies in your stomach just because of the way he looked?

"So, what are we going to talk about?" asked Jungkook, making his smile wider.

"Settle this 'mistress' nonsense and give me my job back!" You immediately blurted out all your demands to him. Jungkook's eyebrows flew up. He chuckled in surprise, clearly impressed by the way you spoke.

"I don't understand. Are you asking me for help again? As I recall, you said you would 'never' ask for it again." Jungkook leaned back, staring at you greedily. How the fuck can you look so sexy wearing a regular top and sweatpants? Jungkook lowered his gaze to your figure. Your cardigan was unbuttoned, and you were wearing a white top with no bra underneath. He could clearly see your nipples through the fabric. He couldn't help but think back to the night he fucked you so well. His thoughts were already going the wrong way. He looked down at your sweatpants and thought about how easy it would be to get his hands underneath them to touch your pussy.

"This is not a request for help, a genius. You are to blame for this whole situation and you are the only one who can solve it!" You said angrily, snapping Jungkook out of his thoughts. He raised his eyes to your face. For a few seconds, he looked into your eyes full of anger and then leaned over, leaning on the armrest. You instinctively leaned back, but not too far.

"You asked me to play the role of your boyfriend. Why are you making me the only one to blame?" Jungkook asked seriously, but not without a hint of playfulness in his voice. Your eyes darted between his.

"That's what I asked. But I didn't know you were the goddamn heir to the ‘Jeon Group’! Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" you asked. Jungkook pressed his lips together and you looked at them against your will. He noticed this and deliberately ran his tongue over his lips.

"Did you ask?" asked Jungkook, watching you stare at his lips in awe. You forced yourself to look away when you heard what he was saying. You opened your mouth at his absurd question. And then you gave a hysterical short laugh.

"So I'm supposed to come to you and ask you to play the role of my boyfriend and then give you a questionnaire so you can fill in your entire biography?" your voice trembled with anger.

Jungkook smiled slyly, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"That's right, kitten. It would be interesting," he replied, looking you over calmly. "Although it would hardly change anything, would it?" he stared at you again, as if enjoying his every word.

You took a deep breath, trying to control the wave of irritation.

"It would have changed everything! I would never have asked you to be my boyfriend!"

"Then you would have missed out on a great opportunity to spend the night with me." Jungkook said, remembering how you paid for his service. His voice sounded mocking, but his eyes flashed with something deeper.

"Speaking of the night... are you okay with cheating on your fiancée?" you asked with curiosity in your voice. The fact that you were sleeping with them while he had a fiancée triggered you just as much. Jungkook tensed up. His smile remained in place, but his eyes darkened. He leaned back slowly, watching you as if assessing you.

"Me?" he raised his eyebrows in surprise, jabbing a finger at his chest, "Cheating?" he tilted his head, and his voice was still lightly playful, mixed with challenge.

"Well, your fiancée is Kang Sukhi, who everyone knows about, except me of course, because I didn't know you at all. Is that okay?"

"I didn't cheat on anyone, kitten. You're confused..." Jungkook was still smiling and you could tell he was having fun with the whole situation, but you weren't in the mood for amusement.

"You're officially engaged, but you're still fucking me!" you almost shouted as you leaned forward. Jungkook was amazed at your angry reaction to Suhy, didn't it look like jealousy? In his eyes, it was more than that. He straightened up, looking you straight in the eye.

"No. We're not officially engaged. If it's so important for you to know, I haven't promised her anything. For me, she is nothing more than a convenient formality for the family business. And if you think that I ever belonged to her..." his fingers lightly touched a strand of your hair, making your skin tingle. "...you'd be very wrong."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to show how something stirred inside you. You batted his hand away and turned away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"It doesn't change the fact that I slept with you without knowing the truth."

"And do you regret it?"

The question hovered between you, making you hold your breath.

"Yes." You lied, answering too quickly.

Jungkook leaned forward a little, watching you.

"You're lying."

His confidence pissed you off.

"Enough! I don't want to continue this topic..."

"You started talking about it ," Jungkook said, laughing. You looked at him angrily and he just shook his head.

"You're nothing but trouble for me! And it's been like that since we first met. I don't want anything to tie us together! So do everything the way it was before you! Say that I'm not your mistress and that you have a beautiful fiancée whom you love very much. And make my boss take me back to work!" you demanded. Jungkook just smiled. He could barely stop himself from throwing kisses at you. Your anger turned him on and lit a dangerous fire inside him.

"What are you going to give me in return?" He asked as soon as you finished speaking. You stared at him, not understanding what he was asking.

"What?" you asked nervously.

"Well, you don't think I'm just going to decide this, do you?" he lazily ran his fingers over the steering wheel.

You felt like you were on the verge of exploding.

"Are you really that pathetic that you want to make me pay for your own mistake?" you asked sarcastically.

"Mistake?" Jungkook smiled, but his eyes instantly darkened. "I wonder what exactly I did wrong? I went along with your adventure and saved you from the boss."

"You should have told me who you were..."

Jungkook exhaled, you kept saying the same thing and he was getting a little tired of fighting with you.

"Okay, how do you see the solution to this problem?" Jungkook suddenly asked.

"I told you. Just make an official statement that there is nothing between us. And... and tell Mr. Kang to put me back to work!" Jungkook chuckled.

"See, you're who’s making a mistake. If I tell them there's nothing between us now, it'll be even worse for you. They'll think I used you and then dumped you. It'll only make your reputation worse."

You pressed your fingers to your temples.

"Then what?"

He slowly leaned toward you, his face too close, his perfume too seductive.

"I have another proposal. It will be beneficial for both of us."

You stared at him questioningly, listening to your own heartbeat.

"I don't want to marry Sukhi. But my parents want to make me. But if you pretend to be my girlfriend, the I can be free from the engagement."

You were stunned by his words. Again pretend to be his girlfriend? That's ridiculous. It's nonsense. You laughed softly, looking at his face.

"This game again? Where garanty you sure if you show me to your parents you stand free from the engagement? You said yourself that this marriage is good for business."

"That's exactly the biggest problem. My parents are forcing me, putting pressure on me because of the business. But I don't want to do that. That's why I'm offering you this deal. You have to look as convincing as possible so that it is Sukhi who breaks off this engagement, or her father. And I will make sure that the media stops writing dirt about you, and instead of returning you to the position of the PR manager, I will give you a good job in the main company."

You hold your breath. His offer sounds so tempting and so simple. But this is Jungkook, and there are always pitfalls in his offers.

"And I'll pay you, for the time you don't work."

You turned away and stared at the windshield, where water was running down from the heavy rain. You should accept his offer right away because it sounds like you hit the jackpot. You wanted to laugh. This offers sounds like you'll climb the career ladder thanks to him. But do your principles and efforts matter anymore? Everything you've achieved on your own has been destroyed, so what's the point of staying proper? All of Korea already considers you "the one who sleeps with the bosses." But you knew it wouldn't be easy. You looked back at Jungkook, who was waiting for your answer.

"So, what's it going to look like?"

Jungkook stretched his lips in a smug smile, as if he was anticipating victory. He leaned even closer, clutching the steering wheel his hand.

"We'll be together," Jungkook said, savoring the words. "Going to events, showing up at restaurants, sometimes letting the paparazzi catch us in the act... Basically, doing everything a couple should do. I need Sukhi to believe that."

You wrinkled your nose, and he almost laughed.

"That sounds like some kind of soap opera."

"It's business, kitten. It's just business. You get everything you want: reputation, job, money. And I get my freedom."

"What if your fiancée comes to me to pull out all my hair?" Jungkook smiled even wider, leaning back.

"Sukhi? She's too proud to make a scene. She'd rather pretend to change her mind."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your skepticism.

"What if she doesn't change her mind?"

Jungkook hummed, his fingers drumming lazily on the steering wheel.

"Then we'll have to work a little harder."

You rolled your eyes.

"Fine. But what else is included in this 'little harder'? I assume you'll want some... public gestures?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, as if confirming your worst guess.

"Hugs, hand-holding, kissing. Nothing supernatural."

"Kissing?" you asked, even though it was the obvious thing you were supposed to do as a "couple".

"Don't act like we haven't done it before," he smirked, leaning in a little closer. "I'm sure you like kissing me..."

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let his voice make your body react treacherously.

"And how long is this going to last?"

"Until I get out of this engagement. Ideally, a month, maybe two."

"And if your plan doesn't work?"

Jungkook was silent for a moment and then answered with a smile on his lips.

"Then you'll have to stay my girlfriend longer."

You exhaled, trying to assess all the risks.

"But there is one condition," he added.

You rolled your eyes.

"What condition?" you asked, frightened. Knowing how he could set conditions, you could have expected anything.

"As long as you play my girlfriend, you must not be with other men."

You blinked in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes," his voice grew deeper, "you must be only mine."

You didn't know what annoyed you more: the self-assurance in his voice or the way your heart responded to those words.

"Gosh, this is so annoying..." you stubbornly crossed your arms over your chest. You sat silently, weighing all the possible risks, and finally decided that this was a chance you couldn't miss. You exhaled heavily, "I agree only because I want my job and my reputation back. Nothing more." You accepting his offer.

Jungkook pretended to think seriously.

"Very well, then. Well, then, we need to set some rules."

"Rules?"

"Yeah," he shrugged nonchalantly. "For example... no real feelings."

You huffed skeptically.

"No problem."

You knew you could handle those rules.

"No jealousy."

"What? Why would I even be jealous?"

"Good." Jungkook smiled with satisfaction. "And..." he paused, making you tense.

"What else?"

He leaned over the armrest closer, his hot breath licking your skin.

"Do all your best, that not to fall in love with me, kitten."

You felt a pang in your midsection, but you didn't let it show.

"Dreamer!" you said ironically, making him laugh.

"I'm just warning you. I can be very charming."

"Don't worry, Jungkook. You are the last person I could fall in love with. It's more about you. I’m think you need more controlling yourself, so you were the one who said something about 'you're mine, I won't let you go' and now you have a ticker on your forehead 'I want to fuck you right here'" you leaned closer to him, his perfume enveloping you again. "But it looks like ten minutes has passed and you're late."

You said, turning away, but Jungkook grabbed your hand, pulling you very close.

Jungkook didn't say anything, but his grip on your wrist only tightened. His eyes darkened, and a familiar cheeky smile played at the corners of his lips.

"You know, kitten," his voice grew deeper, velvety, "I'm not denying that I want you right now."

"I'm not surprised." you say confidently, your breathing quickening.

"Would you be surprised if I tested how much you want me?" he reached for your crotch, but you quickly grabbed his hand and held it back.

"What are you doing? Get your hands off me!" You said firmly. You were a little shocked to fact that in deep down you wanted him to continue. Jungkook applied a little more force, continuing to move his hand to the waistband of your sweatpants. You tried to resist, but when his fingers touched your bare stomach, you froze. Your faces were separated by a few centimeters. You looked up at him and saw that he was not going to give up on his idea.

"Come on, kitten, let's have a quick fuck in the car, satisfy our physical needs." he suggested ironically, reminding you of your own words.

"Do you really think I want to do this with you?" you asked still holding his hand, Jungkook smiled and slowly slipped his hand under your pants, as if to give you a chance to stop it. But you already can’t do yet. When his hand was on your folds, you gasped, and Jungkook cursed with a slight moan.

"Your wet pussy answers your question." Jungkook whispered. You didn't let go of his hand, which was hidden in your pants. His fingers gently caressed your clit. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that this was happening for the second time between you. But his fingers felt so good on your pussy. You opened your legs wider to give him easy access to your pussy, and he took advantage of it. Jungkook's fingers skillfully built up the pleasant sensations between your legs. You got wetter and wetter as he smeared the moisture between your legs.

Suddenly, you let out a moan, and it aroused Jungkook even more. He leaned down and captured your lips. His soft lips were not gentle at all, they were demanding and insistent. His tongue slid into your mouth and you accepted it without hesitation. Your kiss was greedy, as if you two had been waiting for this for years, as if you were forbidden and now you could do whatever you wanted.

You ran your hand through his soft hair, ruining his perfectly styled hair. He purred against your lips when he felt you pull him closer.

Jungkook plunged a finger into your passage. Your warm hole was so welcoming, and he knew for sure that his cock would be visiting it today. The thought of fucking that tight pussy again made his cock harden and twitch several times in anticipation.

You knew it was crazy. You knew you'd agreed to a fake relationship, not this. But, damn it, when he touched you like that, when your tongues touched each other, you couldn't think about the rules anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, took a deep breath, as if trying to pull himself together, but it was too late. His eyes darkened, and his breathing became heavy and hot.

"You were in a hurry." you reminded him, breathing heavily against his lips. Jungkook plunged another finger inside you and you felt the pressure on your walls, and his thumb never left your clit. squeezed his shoulders with your fingers to ease the growing pleasure.

"I have something more important to do. Let them wait." Jungkook said, smiling. You couldn't react normally to his words, feeling your orgasm approaching. And after a several seconds of holding it all in, you came on his finger. You squeezed his hand with your legs and he felt your clit twitching.

He pulled his fingers out of your throbbing pussy, making you moan softly at the loss. He raised his hand to his lips and, without taking his eyes off you, licked his fingers as if savoring a forbidden fruit. His movement was so seductive that desire flared up inside you again.

"Sweets," he murmured hoarsely, leaning closer to catch the taste of your lips again.

You were on fire, your breath was ragged, and your heart was pounding. His scent of perfume mingled with your own scent of arousal. Jungkook no longer looked confident-he was hungry, almost obsessed.

His palms slid slowly under your top, caressing your skin. Each touch made your body react to him instantly - you gave in, letting him have you the way he wanted. His fingers, still wet from caressing you, left hot marks on your skin as he ran them up your stomach. His lips barely touched yours, taking his time, stretching the moment between desire and anticipation. And then they found yours again, this time the kiss was deeper, more greedy.

He squeezed your breast with his hand, massaging it, strengthening your desire to have Jungkook inside of you again.

"Fuck..." he muttered between your kisses and you could feel him holding back, how much he wanted more.

You ran your hands down his back, feeling the tension under your fingertips. Jungkook moved lower and slowly ran his tongue along your neck, leaving a wet trail, and then he lifted his head and stared at you.

"Climb on my lap, kitten, I have to fuck your tight pussy." he invited you.

Jungkook sat down in his seat and pushed the chair back as far as possible. He tilted the back to get a better position. Jungkook flicked his tongue across his lips as if savoring the remnants of your kiss, and he took off his jacket and threw it in the back seat. Then he unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles, and finally removed his underwear, revealing his hard length that needed attention. You looked at Jungkook, not knowing what to do. He noticed you weren't moving and looked up at you. His lips stretched in a playful smile making him look damn hot as he was now.

"What you want to taste the most delicious cock in your life or shall we get right down to business?"

You felt your face flush red. You tried to hide your eyes, but Jungkook leaned over and took your face by the chin.

"Come on, baby, take off your pants, or do you want me to do it?"

"I wouldn't mind if you did it for me." you said, defying him.

Jungkook stretched his lips into a predatory smile, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. Before you even had time to fully realize what you had said, he leaned closer, sliding his hands down your thighs. His fingers slowly, almost teasingly, ran up your skin, making you languish in anticipation.

"I know how you like it when I take your clothes off..." he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I like it too..." he admitted.

He slowly hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants, successfully grabbing your underwear together with pants, and began to slowly pull them down. You lifted your hips so that they could slide down easily. His hands touched your skin, leaving a hot tingling sensation.

The rain outside the window monotonously pounded on the glass, creating an even more intimate atmosphere. The car was filled with your heavy breathing and the muffled light of the street lamps, which were smeared in the raindrops.

When your pants and underwear were completely off your legs, Jungkook took his time. His gaze slowly slid over you, and he licked his lips admiring what he saw in front of him.

"Such a beautiful body..." he murmured, licking his lips as if admitting the thought of what was to come.

He sat up straight and patted his thighs. You couldn't help but smile, but suddenly you felt him grab your hand and pull it. He was impatient.

You climbed on top of him and sat on his lap. His excited cock rested against your pussy, and you felt how hard it was. His hands squeezed your naked thighs and his fingers lightly touched your back, forcing you to bend to meet him.

His hands began to move slowly down your body, exploring every curve.

Jungkook kissed you again. It was a deep, desperate kiss, as if he was trying to leave an imprint of his desire on you. His fingers roamed over your skin, making you involuntarily cling to him tighter, squeezing him with your hips.

Jungkook broke the kiss and hurried to lift you up so you could ride him. You rose up just enough so he could press his cock against your entrance.

"Don't you have a condom?" you asked, feeling the head of his cock already pressing against your passage. Jungkook started to plunge into you, and you bit your lip, feeling his big cock stretching your velvet walls. You were still in pain, even as Jungkook stretched you.

His hands closed even tighter on your hips. His eyes glittered with a devilish light, and you knew he was going to say something bold.

"Do you need it? Don't you trust me?"

You froze, getting used to the feel of his cock in this position inside you. It felt even better than the first time you did it. Jungkook leaned down to your ear, running his tongue along the shell of it.

"I never trusted you." you breathed out. His tongue movement sent a wave of flies across your skin, even though the car was as hot as it could be. The windows were fogged up, and the world outside seemed to be non-existent.

Jungkook was amused by your words. You didn't trust him, but for some reason you always did what he wanted.

His confidence, this predatory and graceful behavior that balanced between passion and abuse, made your body burn even more.

He smiled, and then gave a sharp thrust with his hips, and you yelped in surprise.

"It's funny," he whispered, his lips almost touching yours, "because right now you're sitting on my cock without a condom and you don't mind at all." His voice was so dangerously seductive that your heart was racing. He bit your lips.

You began to move on his hips, creating a much-needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and only the thin fabric of his shirt saved him from scratches.

His fingers squeezed your hips a little harder, making you feel the full force of his control. You moaned because Jungkook was fucking you so well.

You moved slowly, letting yourself enjoy every second of this intimacy, but Jungkook didn't have that much patience. His hands squeezed your hips again, forcing you down deeper, faster, harder.

His breath was hot, his lips sought yours. His kisses were greedy, demanding, as passionate as his touch. He bit your lower lip, making you moan right into his mouth.

"Mmm... see that?" his voice was hoarse, predatory. "You're on fire, and you said you didn't trust me."

You wanted to answer, but he gave you a sharp thrust, and all words dissolved into your choked moan. Jungkook laughed a low, defiant laugh, his eyes burning.

"Oh, kitten, I love to hear you moan..." he whispered, running his hot palms along your back, and then slapping your ass sharply.

You arched your back, feeling the fire spreading through your body, pulling you even closer to him.

The rain outside the windows poured down harder, drumming rhythmically on the roof of the car, unable to drown out your sounds. It was so hot inside that the air felt heavy, almost intoxicating.

"Faster, baby," his voice was a low order. "Give me everything you've got."

Your heart exploded with tension and pleasure. And you did give him everything.

Jungkook lifted you up sharply, making you feel every inch of his cock, and then lowered you down on top of him forcefully, tearing a loud moan from your lips. His fingers will leave marks on your thighs, he presses hard on your skin as if he was trying to make sure you wouldn't run away, that you belonged to him, here and now.

"Fuck Kook..." you moaned.

You called him by his shortened name again during sex. He noticed it and made a point of it.

"What kitten, is it too much?" he asked.

"I can't... anymore..." You said. But Jungkook didn't want to come so quickly. He wanted to get the most out of you because he didn't know how soon your next time would be. You like to play hard to get, but practice shows that you can't control yourself when he's around.

"You can baby, I'm not done with you yet." he said breathing heavily. You felt him twitch inside you.

Jungkook lowered you down on top of him again, and you cried out as you felt him fill you completely. He caressed your center.

"Do you like it?" he pushed up again, making you bend over. "Tell me you like it when I fuck you."

You bit your lip, feeling waves of pleasure wash over you. He moved so fast, so deep, you couldn't focus on anything else. Only him. Only his body, colliding with yours in this stuffy, sweaty car.

"Yes... you're so fucking good at fucking me..." you admitted. And it was the piety truth. You'd felt it the first time you had sex. The connection between you two was like a drug. Jungkook was giving you an adrenaline rush that made you addicted. He smiled-self-satisfied, greedy, triumphant. Then he grabbed you even tighter, leaned forward, and dug his lips into your neck, leaving wet, trembling marks. He wanted to mark you so that you wouldn't forget those words when you pretended not to be interested in him again tomorrow.

His pace became even faster, deeper, more unbearable. You were no longer in control, your body trembling in his hands, accepting every thrust. And when he abruptly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, you felt a hot wave of pleasure sweep through you.

He groaned as he squeezed you, and then abruptly dropped his head onto your shoulder, breathing hotly on your skin.

Your breathing is heavy. Your pulse is frantic. You're both hot, exhausted, and you haven't yet realized that he came right inside you.

Jungkook slowly leans back, holding you on top of him, his hands still on your back. He smiles slightly, tired but so hot.

"You're just divine..." he whispers, brushing his hand over your cheek.

Your mind clears a little bit. Your ears were buzzing, but when your breathing became more or less calm, you realized that you were sitting on Jungkook still with his cock inside of you. You rounded your eyes, and he raised his eyebrows in question, wanting to know what you were excited about.

"Did you just cum inside me?"

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