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wheeboo · 5 months ago

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just a roommate thing | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which playful flirting between you and your roommate has always been the norm, but how does that help with how you really feel towards him? PAIRING. kim mingyu x gn!reader (ft. seokmin) GENRE. fluff, humour?, roommates (and prob idiots) to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, slightly suggestive, just... flirting?, reader is shorter than him, mingyu is shirtless, reader is referred as "princess" once, mentioned that reader is wearing makeup, reader dislikes pizza for the sake of plot sorry to my pizza lovers HAHAHA, reader is gender neutral but they briefly compare themselves to another girl, kissing WORD COUNT. 5.2k

requested by anon: Hii, I wanna request a Mingyu fic where him and reader are roomies and they’re very lovey dovey ig but “jokingly”. But then reader is like trying to go on dates and stuff and Mingyus jealous💀 idk man

notes: this was actually a random request that i started months ago and suddenly decided i wanted to finish RIGHT NOW when i was scrolling thru drafts. no idea if the anon who sent this remembers this but um... yeah ! lowk turned out a bit of a mess i think this plot sounded better in my head, enjoy nonetheless :')

You like to think that being roommates with Kim Mingyu is both a blessing and a curse.

You used to believe that having your very first roommate straight up abandon you at the very beginning of the semester was something you could pull off with, because you'd rather be living alone than living with someone you can hardly vibe with. It worked for a while, until the housing department paired you with Kim Mingyu: tall, obnoxiously handsome, ridiculously muscular for seriously no goddamn reason at all, annoyingly charming, and a goofy smile that could light up a room.

Any person would probably kill to be in your place right now, but sometimes you think you'd rather trade places with the pigeons outside your window. Mingyu wasn't a bad roommate𑁋far from it, actually. He kept the apartment spotless, never hogged the bathroom, and even cooks mean late-night ramen whenever you both are drowning in deadlines.

But the problem was, Mingyu was also excruciatingly touchy. Not in a creepy way, but more like a human koala bear who couldn't seem to function without some form of physical contact. Whether it was ruffling your hair as you walked past him, casually draping his arm over your shoulder while watching a movie together, or sneaking up behind you to give you a surprise bear hug while you cooked, there was a line between friendly and... something more.

It was comfortable, almost too comfortable. You told yourself it was just a roommate thing, just a Mingyu thing𑁋that you were both really good friends who happened to be a little more affectionate than most. But you seriously want to smack his head sometimes. And maybe your own too, even if you secretly like the attention. Because deep down, you know there's nothing casual about the way you feel about Mingyu.

But lately, for God's sake, you don't know how much more you can handle.

"Need any help with that?" Mingyu's voice snatches your attention from your aimless stirring of some cookie dough, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull.

Here he is. Kim Mingyu in all his glory𑁋shirtless with a towel in-hand dabbing at his dripping strands of hair, his tan skin glistening with droplets of water from the shower. You try your best to keep your gaze focused on the cookie dough in front of you, trying to ignore the way his damp hair sticks to his forehead and how the sight of his abs are practically boring into your soul, but that's easier said than done.

Your throat tightens, and you let out a cough.

"Yeah, um...." You let your eyes drift down to the plain-looking batter of cookie dough in front of you. "Can you grab some chocolate chips from the pantry?"

Mingyu just raises a brow, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Sure thing, princess."

You feel your cheeks burn unpleasantly at the playful nickname, and you mutter a quick thanks as he saunters past, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him. You focus back on stirring, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest and the way your fingers fumble against the spoon.

He returns with a bag of chocolate, and as he leans over to pour some into the bowl, your arms brushing lightly. A jolt shoots through you, and you almost drop the spoon. He pauses, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before you get yourself back to mixing the dough again.

"Here, let me help you," Mingyu offers, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches over to try to grab the spoon from your grasp. You can practically feel the warmth of his body radiating through his bare arm.

You let out a scoff, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "I can handle it, Gyu."

He just chuckles, and the sound seems to send shivers down your spine.

"Nonsense," he insists adamantly, tone playful but there's a pinch of softness in there too. "Two hands are twice as fast, right?"

You roll your eyes in slight annoyance, but a small smile tugs at your lips nonetheless.

"More like twice as messy." Yet you end up surrendering the spoon to him anyway, because simply saying no to him is a strenuous thing to do over anything else. His hand meets yours halfway, fingers touching against your knuckles as he snatches the whisk from your hands.

The heat from his hand lingers even after he pulls away, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from him, mesmerised by the way his biceps flex, the way his hair falls in messy dark strands across his forehead, the way his lips curve as he focuses on whisking in a way that's both infuriating and endearing.

But amidst this, you can't help but feel the nagging feeling settling at the pit of your stomach.

"So, what's the occasion?" Mingyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the question. "Huh?"

Mingyu chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I mean, you don't usually bake cookies on a random Wednesday night. Is there something special going on?"

You swallow, feeling your mind draw a blank, trying to come up with a nonchalant answer. "Oh, you know... just felt like baking."

Mingyu just scoffs, clearly not buying your words. "Come on, Y/N. You're a terrible liar."

God, how can he always see right through you? Does he have some sort of sixth sense? And yet, even despite the discomfort of being so transparent, there's a strange sense of comfort in knowing that Mingyu can see you for who you truly are, except for the one thing you want him to notice about you.

"Fine." You give in, running a slightly frustrated hand through your hair. "It's... Seokmin."

For just a single, most miniscule moment, Mingyu pauses.

"Seokmin?"

You swear you can feel your feet sinking into quicksand. "The guy from my history class, remember? He... uh, I asked him out the other day."

Mingyu's whisking slows down as he processes your words, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes. But before you can dwell on it further, he masks it with a faint smirk.

"You asked him out?" he asks, as if still trying to wrap his head around it.

"Yeah, I..." You seriously want to sew your mouth shut right now. "I thought I would, um, you know... put myself out there for once."

You watch as Mingyu throws another handful of chocolate chips into the batter, a little more forcefully this time, the clatter against the metal bowl echoing in the sudden silence. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the way his jaw clenches and unclenches.

"So," he continues, seemingly unfazed. "what did he say?"

You hesitate, watching as his hands work the dough, mind whirling with confusion and caution.

"He... um, he said yes."

"Huh," Mingyu murmurs, tone teasing. "And here I thought I was the only one who got to enjoy your company."

His words jab at your heart, a pang of guilt twisting around in your stomach, but you try to brush it off with a forced chuckle.

"You know you're irreplaceable, Gyu."

Mingyu's gaze flickers to yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of... something in his eyes. But before you can decipher it, he offers you a tight-lipped smile, the kind that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Right," he replies casually. "I'm glad you think so."

Mingyu is wearing one of your hoodies.

Sure, you've worn a couple hoodies and sweatshirts that he has given to you out of practicality as they were really oversized and comfortable. But here, in the middle of your kitchen, highlighted under the warm glow of the overhead light and the aroma of cooked ramen, seeing Mingyu draped in your favourite oversized, white hoodie felt awfully intimate, and it brings that overwhelming flutter to your chest.

"Hey," he greets you when you walk in. "How was the date?"

You can still hardly believe what you're seeing right now, gaze staring at the way the fabric seems to cling at this broad frame, and your own lips doesn't seem to be functioning correctly.

"It was, uh... it was good," You manage to stammer out, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and forcing your gaze away from the way Mingyu rolls up his sleeves. "He liked the cookies."

"He liked the cookies?" Mingyu raises an amused brow, leaning against the counter with a casual ease that throws your already flustered mind into further disarray.

You shrug, feeling like your burying yourself down into an inescapable hole. "Yeah, he did. We, uh, had a meal at the park, talked for a while, the usual stuff, you know."

Some silence stretches between you, filled with the soft sizzle of the ramen and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You watch the way Mingyu twirls the noodles around a pair of chopsticks, before shutting off the heat of the stove.

"Are you wearing my hoodie?" You ask as he's taking a sip of the soup, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it. "I swear I've been looking for that one for ages."

Mingyu looks down at himself as if he remembering what he's wearing, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, and he scratches the back of his neck in a gesture that's so uniquely him𑁋it makes your heart ache.

"I... forgot to do my laundry, and it was the first thing I could find," he admits, then takes a sip of the ramen, eyes meeting yours briefly before dropping back down to the bowl. "Looks comfy on me, though, doesn't it?"

He wasn't wrong. It usually engulfed you, but it hung loosely on Mingyu's bigger frame, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows to reveal his strong forearms.

"Well," You say, clearing your throat. "I wouldn't mind having it back, actually. It's my favourite."

"Yeah?" he tests playfully, raising a mischievous eyebrow. "I don't know, it looks pretty good on me."

You watch as he flexes his arm playfully, making the fabric of the hoodie stretch across his bicep. You can't help but let out a small, choked laugh, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest despite yourself.

"Oh, come on," You fret, trying to keep your voice light. "You got plenty of hoodies, dude."

But Mingyu just takes another casual sip of his ramen, his expression calm.

"Maybe," he says finally. "But this one smells good. It smells like you."

You freeze up. It smells... like me? Well, obviously, it fucking does𑁋

"Just bring it back to me when you're done with it," You say almost lamely, unsure if you wanted to laugh or flee to your room and hide.

"I mean, if you want it so bad I can take it off right no𑁋"

"No! Don't do that. Oh my gosh," You shoot a glare towards him, pursing your lips together tightly at the sight of him reaching for the ends of the hoodie like he was actually about to take it off... right in front of you. "You know what? I'm tired. Goodnight."

You're already marching off to your room in the middle of Mingyu bringing another mouthful of ramen into his mouth.

"Hey!" he calls out to you, nearly spitting out noodles in the process. "Where's my goodnight hug?"

You freeze at that in the middle of your doorway. Seriously, are you really in this deep to the point that you've made it a habit to hug each other before going to bed?

You hardly register Mingyu coming up from behind once you turn around to see him. His mouth is drooped into a pout, eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you expectantly. It’s ridiculous how effortlessly adorable he looks, and your need to be annoyed at him falters each passing second.

"Fine," You relent, stepping forward to give him a very brief, obligatory hug. But the moment you feel his strong arms wrap around you even more, you know it’s not going to be a quick one.

Mingyu’s warmth seeps through the layers of your clothes and down to your core, and you find yourself relaxing against him, as if it was a natural response for your body to do. He squeezes you a little tighter, letting his chin resting lightly on top of your head. A low sigh escapes him.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You close your eyes, only for a moment, letting yourself relinquish the way he holds you. It feels like everything you’ve been trying to ignore𑁋all laid bare in the simple act of a hug.

"Goodnight, Gyu."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look down at you, the features to his face softer than you’ve ever seen it. For a moment, you think he might say something more, because his lips seem to attempt at forming a word, yet nothing comes out. But then he simply smiles, and the seconds finally pass.

"Sleep well," he says quietly, releasing you reluctantly, and giving you a gentle pat on the head before heading back to the kitchen.

You have your next date with Seokmin a week later.

You told Mingyu ahead of time as well, and he reacted the same way as last time𑁋nonchalant, playful, a pinch of tease, an averted gaze down towards his phone, and simply bidding you with a have a good time. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely unbothered or if he was just playing it cool, and the thought sort of irked you the entire day.

After Seokmin dropped you off home, you find yourself standing in front of the door to your place, as if you're trying to laser a hole through it with your eyes. Yet you simply huff a breath, fumble with getting the keys out of your bag and inserting it into the keyhole, before stepping inside.

And the fresh smell of food hits you.

It's really hard to not acknowledge the fact that Mingyu is quite literally a living, breathing chef sleeping in the same apartment as you.

Mingyu turns his head around, noticing you standing in the doorway, and lets his gaze scan over you from head to toe. He could see the bits of extra effort you put into your appearance today that he wasn't able to see earlier as he was out. There was a pink colour that dusted over your cheeks of the blush you probably put, a bit of glimmer to your eyes from some eyeshadow, and your lips glossed with a soft sheen that catches the kitchen light just right.

"Hey," he lets out airily, watching you place your bag on the table. "How was the date?"

You run a hand through your hair. "It was... It was good. Seokmin's really nice. He took me to a pizza place."

Mingyu stills at that for a second, lifting a brow in question. "I thought you don't like pizza."

"Well, yeah, but I said it was fine so𑁋"

"If he was going to take you out on more dates, then he should know what kinds of places you don't like to eat."

"I said I was fine with it, Gyu," You retort a bit harshly, immediately regretting your tone in the silence that instantly engulfs the two of you. "We ended up having a good time anyway."

The sounds of something cooking reverberate throughout your shared place. You watch the way Mingyu stirs something in a large pot with a pair of chopsticks, before taking it out, blowing on it a few times, and taking it into his mouth for a brief taste test.

When he puts the chopsticks back down and kills the heat on the stove, he faces back to you with his hands placed firmly on the counter.

"Did you two do anything else?"

The smell of the food makes your stomach rumble quietly, but you attempt to conceal it with clearing your throat. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." Mingyu motions something with his hands and you could only peer at him quizzically. "Like have you𑁋"

"Are… Are you about to ask me if we kissed?" You nearly want to scoff at that. "Do I look like the kind of person that kisses on the second date?"

Mingyu just laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. "I don't know. Do you?"

All you do is shrug your shoulders, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Well, no, we didn't kiss. We just... talked."

Mingyu seems to take in your words for a second, before nodding slowly. "Okay. That's... That's good."

The way he says it makes you feel a bit uneasy. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly acutely aware of how tired you are, both from the evening and from this conversation. Mingyu glances at you again, something apologetic forming in his eyes.

"Sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't mean to pry. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, it's... fine," You reply, though you're not sure if it is. "I'm just tired."

Mingyu gestures over to the pot on the stove. "I made some food if you're hungry."

You walk to the side of the kitchen where he's at, taking a peek inside the pot. "Is it...?"

"Yep!" Mingyu exclaims excitedly and steps up beside you, where you could practically feel his presence lingering right on your skin. "My signature jjajangmyeon. Your favourite."

Your stomach rumbles again, and you swear Mingyu hears it from the way his lips quirk up in a smirk down at you. You almost want to (affectionately) shove that expression off his face, but you don't, because his gaze toward you relaxes when you look back up at him. It's a look that feels familiar, comforting, and slightly intimidating all at once.

You feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.

"I'm starting to think," Seokmin starts, loudly slurping up his cup of boba tea. "that this is a very bad idea."

You grimly shove the straw through the plastic and take a long sip, the flavours from the drink bursting in your mouth as you do so. You hear the loud screech of Seokmin bringing his chair closer to the table.

"I'm starting to think it is too."

Seokmin's eyes widen. "You are?" Then he scoots himself closer to you almost pleadingly. "Does that mean you're gonna tell him?"

"I..." You mentally want to facepalm yourself right now. "I don't know."

"Y/N!"

"I know! I know! I'm a coward!" You bury your face in your arms for a moment, letting out a few muffled groans at the cold surface of the table. "We're literally roommates and it complicates everything! There are times where I feel like there's just something a little... more to us, you know? I mean, do you usually give goodnight hugs to your roommate?"

Seokmin snorts a little at that. "I don't think Minghao would like it if I did that to him."

"Okay, okay. Just𑁋If your roommate wasn't Minghao and someone you liked, would you give them goodnight hugs too?"

You could tell Seokmin is genuinely thinking about the question. His lips purse together in thought, his hand running over the sides of his cup.

"If I liked them, I'd probably find any excuse to be close to them. Like sharing food, doing little favours here and there, wanting to hug them and stuff like that..." Seokmin admits a bit bashfully. "Isn't that what he does to you?"

"Yes, and it's driving me absolutely bonkers. And he... He knows a lot about me, you know? We've had, like, late-night talks and stuff. I've never gotten close with any other person like that. He's just so... ugh!" You glance up at Seokmin with helpless eyes. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess, Seokmin."

Seokmin chuckles lightly. "Hey, I only agreed to be your fake boyfriend because I owed you for saving my grades in class. I didn't realise the extent of how bad this is."

You glare at him playfully at that, lightly swatting him on the arm, but Seokmin just manages to dodge it and swipe your cup of boba tea away from you.

"Okay, but, hypothetically speaking. Let's say he does like you..."

You snatch your drink back and take a long sip, catching a boba pearl between your teeth. "Mhm..."

"And I know the whole point of this was to see if he'll get jealous," Seokmin continues. "but let's say he does like you, wouldn't that mean you're kind of... playing with his feelings?"

Seokmin's words make you pause mid-sip. With the straw between your lips, you contemplate his question as you stare blankly at the swirling boba tea. Playing with Mingyu's feelings𑁋could that really be what you're doing? The whole fake dating plan had started as a test of sorts to see if Mingyu would show any signs of jealousy. But now, as you're sitting here with Seokmin, you're starting to think you might have fucked up a bit. Maybe a lot.

"Because I think from all the details that you told me and how he acts around you," Seokmin pauses and fixes up his posture, looking at you with a lighthearted yet serious expression. "it sounds like he likes you. And if he does, pretending to date me is just going to hurt him. Or confuse him. Or both."

Your mind races with Seokmin's words, and you feel a pang of guilt settling in your chest. "You think so?"

"I think it's pretty obvious, honestly."

"That's not reassuring at all."

"Well, you never know!" Seokmin exclaims. "Look, I'm no love expert. Maybe you two have been pining for each other the entire year but just don't have the guts to say anything about it. And if that's the case, you owe me another free meal, or a few them. You owe me another three free meals!"

You scoff at that before bringing the straw up to your mouth again, hoping that you could drink away the heat blooming within your face.

"Ugh, I'm getting headache𑁋"

"Isn't that Mingyu right there?"

You nearly spit out your drink at that, swearing you could hear the snap of your neck as you bring your head up to where Seokmin is looking with wide eyes. And low and behold, you spot Mingyu entering inside the boba shop.

He's not alone though; he's with a girl.

You feel your heart drop down to your feet as you watch them approach to the ordering counter. They seem comfortable with one another, even if you can't hear what they're saying, their easy smiles and relaxed body language twisting your insides into knots. Mingyu leans in slightly, saying something that makes the girl laugh, and you can't help but notice how effortlessly he charms her, just like he does with everyone.

A tap lands on your shoulder, and you face away to see Seokmin looking at you with worried eyes.

"Do you want to leave?" he mouths to you quietly.

You glance back toward Mingyu and the girl, and the second you see them turning in your direction, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, the chair letting out an earth-shattering squeak.

And you freeze up.

"Y/N?"

You slowly turn around to see Mingyu and the girl approach the table. The first thing you notice is how pretty she looks, her long, flowing hair showering down her shoulders in soft waves. There's a cheery, whimsical aura that you can sense from her, and that seems to be enough to convince yourself that's the kind of personality that Mingyu likes.

"Hey," Mingyu calls out to you again, a smile to his face once he realises it's really you. Briefly, however, his lips seem to straighten out when he shoots a glance toward Seokmin. "I didn't know the two of you came here for your date."

Seokmin laughs a bit too obviously. "Yeah, man, what a coinc𑁋"

"We were just leaving, actually." You swiftly grab Seokmin by the wrist, tugging him toward you. Then you offer nothing but an unsteady grin. "I'll see you later, Mingyu."

You drag Seokmin out of the shop before hearing whatever Mingyu was saying, your heart pounding like a damn drum in your chest. You don't look back until you're safely outside and a long distance away.

You let go of Seokmin's hand to catch your breath. And when you manage to pick yourself back up, Seokmin's already peering at you with an amused look.

"What was that?" he asks airily, arching up a single brow. "Did you just run away from your roommate?"

"Be quiet," You hiss back at him, attempting to shove him but failing miserably. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh, you hear that?" Seokmin taunts annoyingly, tapping his foot on the ground. "That's the sound of jealousy."

You gulp down a lump in your throat. He's right. You are jealous.

"Dammit," You curse to yourself. "The whole fake dating thing... It was stupid. I thought that, maybe, if Mingyu got jealous, it would mean something. But now, seeing him with that girl..."

"It hit you hard."

"Yeah," You finish simply. "It did."

"And so..." Seokmin lightly nudges you with his hip. "what will the answer be?"

You only narrow your eyes at him, and the resigned sigh that you let out afterwards is enough to send Seokmin's excitement into orbit.

"Yes!" He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you relentlessly. "I'm getting free food!"

Hours pass, and the ache in your chest hasn't eased.

You find yourself melting into the couch, anxiously tugging the ends of your sleeves as you replay the scene over and over back at the boba place. This stupid plan really had backfired on you big time, like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut, a kick to the heart𑁋all in one go.

Every detail from the way Mingyu and that girl walked in together, the ease with which they interacted, and the pang you felt in your chest from how perfect they appeared right next to each other𑁋it all played on a loop in your mind. You knew now that you have to confront your feelings, but the thought of it makes your stomach twist into a pretzel.

There's some random show playing on the TV in front of you, but you could care less at paying attention to it. The apartment is still quiet since Mingyu wasn't back yet, and you could only clench your fists together in a suppressed fit of panic.

"You're an idiot," You scold yourself, closing your eyes tightly. "A complete idiot. How could you be so stupid𑁋"

A rattle at the locks on the door shuts you up, and maybe the world stops spinning too. You feel yourself sink more into the couch out of anticipation.

When the door swings open, Mingyu steps inside, and you hear the rustling sounds of plastic bags. He peers around the apartment for a moment, and when his eyes land on you, he visibly relaxes.

"Y/N?" Even knowing that he's here, his voice still seems to catch you off-guard every single time. "I brought some ice cream for𑁋"

"I'm not dating Seokmin."

The silence that follows is almost suffocating. Mingyu drops the bag of ice cream on top of the kitchen counter, his gaze still not leaving yours. He blinks a few times, as if processing what you just said.

"You're... not?"

You shake your head, a knot forming in your throat. This is it.

"No, Gyu, I'm not dating him," You clarify, tone more serious this time. "We never dated. It was all fake."

All Mingyu does is continue to stand there under the dim lighting of the kitchen light. You can hardly decipher the expression on his face; it was something between confusion and surprise. You try to catch for signs of disappointment, but when he steps a tad bit closer to you, your mind goes a bit haywire.

"Why?" he finally questions after what seems like an eternity.

You take in a deep breath. "I was... I was stupid, okay? I... I thought that if I could make you jealous, it would mean something. That it would mean..." There's a brief pause as you rekindle yourself. "...that you liked me too."

Mingyu's brows furrow slightly in confusion, and you can't tell if the situation is getting worser or not; if the room was getting hotter and your skin was at the point of boiling; if all of this was already tumbling down before your eyes.

"Look, I know we're roommates. But sometimes I think𑁋I feel like there's more to that. We always hug… and flirt, and I..." You purse your lips together as your tongue struggles to grasp the right words. "I like you, okay? I fell for your stupid smile, your stupid hugs, your stupidly good cooking skills. I fell for everything about you. And I couldn't tell you that because I was scared of fucking everything up."

The room seems to hold its breath as you finish speaking. You feel awfully vulnerable right now, like you've laid bare your heart and soul and every single one of your insecurities. Mingyu only remains still, his eyes with surprise. The silence stretches on, and you find yourself gathering your thoughts together as if sensing impending doom.

You let your shoulders slouch in defeat. "It's fine if you don't feel the same way, we could just𑁋"

"I was jealous."

"𑁋pretend all this never happened𑁋what?"

"Of course I was jealous, Y/N." Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, the action all too endearing. "I was stupid too. For not telling you. For not taking the chance when I could. I was jealous when you talked about Seokmin, but I was also a coward for not wanting to screw anything up.”

You could only knit your brows together dazedly, gazing up at him as if he's said a foreign language. "You... were jealous? What about... what about the girl from earlier?"

"She's just a classmate from my English class, and she's interested in one of my other friends. We just happened to cross paths and I offered to grab boba so I could help her with𑁋"

"Shut up," You suddenly say firmly, and Mingyu does immediately, his focused, half-lidded eyes boring down into yours with a look that sends a jump to your stomach. That was all that you need to hear.

He's practically looming above you. You don't recall how exactly he got closer to you but you have nothing in you to complain. If anything, your feet drag you closer toward him, close enough you're able to smell the faint scent of his cologne and perhaps hear the way his heart is beating just as fast as yours.

With one of your hands, you reach up slowly, letting your fingers toy carefully with the collar of his shirt as you search his eyes for any sign of hesitation. But Mingyu's gaze softens, probably like it always has when he's with you, his breath hitching slightly as your touch lingers on his shirt, curling more into the fabric.

Then your lips tug up into a faint smirk, and you pull him down just slightly.

"Don't make me regret this, Kim Mingyu," is all you say before closing the gap and pressing your mouth against his.

He nearly melts right there at the touch of your lips together, but it doesn’t take him long to be kissing you back with more desperation than you expected. His hands slowly draw down your sides, bringing you even further into his embrace. The briefest contact of the tips of his fingers under your shirt makes you tense.

“I won’t,” he whispers in between kisses. “I won’t.”

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

@mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23

@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @maesvtr0

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 month ago

Note

i miss thornton!reader so bad!!! can we get one, maybe reader got hurt by barry and topper fights rafe about it! love uuuuu

Protective || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I've missed writing Thornton!reader :(

Warnings: suggestive, slight angst if you even call it that lol, other than that nothing rlly

Word count: 3,417 (longest fic i've written so far lol)

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The music thrummed through the house, filling every corner with a heavy bass as Kelce glanced around the crowded room, his brows furrowed. He leaned closer to Topper, who was lounging on the couch with a half-empty beer in hand. “Yo, where’s Rafe? Haven’t seen him all night,” Kelce shouted over the noise.

Topper, barely looking up from his drink, shrugged lazily. “Probably off somewhere with my sister,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. Just as he said it, the sight of you and Rafe caught Kelce's attention, and Topper turned his head. Rafe appeared at the top of the staircase, hand firmly gripping yours as the two of you descended.

His expression was smug, almost victorious, while you walked carefully beside him, your legs unsteady, a faint flush still lingering on your cheeks. The subtle tension between you didn’t go unnoticed. Topper narrowed his eyes, rolling them dramatically. “Where were you guys?” he started, though a moment later he held up a hand, groaning.

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t even wanna know,” Topper groaned, his eyes narrowing as he sank deeper into the couch, clearly regretting the question. Rafe’s smirk only widened in response, that signature arrogance playing on his lips as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding possessively to the small of your back.

“What’s wrong? Not havin’ fun?” Rafe’s tone was taunting as he sat down, effortlessly pulling you into his lap. You settled against him, your body fitting into his like second nature, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the alcohol in the air. Topper’s response was a dry scoff, his eyes cutting away, tired of the banter.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.�� He took another sip of his drink, clearly unimpressed with the scene unfolding in front of him. You glanced at your brother, trying to lighten the tension. “Where’s that girl you were seeing? Natalie or something—” you began, but Topper’s cold voice sliced through your words, shutting them down.

“Broke it off with her. She was a bitch anyway,” he said, his tone harsh, dismissive, like the whole thing had been a waste of his time. There was a chill to his words that left an awkward silence between you, broken only by the sound of the party continuing in the background. You exchanged a quick glance with Rafe, who simply shrugged, his expression unbothered, like the drama swirling around him barely registered.

Rafe’s fingers, however, were far more interested in the hem of your dress, teasing the fabric between his fingers as he leaned in closer. “I’m having a smoke. You comin’?” His voice dropped lower, intimate, a subtle invitation. You glanced towards the patio door, the thought of stepping into the cold night air making you hesitate. “But it’s so cold out there,” you pouted, your lips curving into a playful smile.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes dropping to your legs as he gave your thigh a teasing pat. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea wearin’ this dress,” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he traced lazy circles on your skin with his thumb. “Oh, it was a bad idea, huh?” you quipped back, tilting your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his gaze.

You could feel the electricity between you, the unspoken tension that always lingered just beneath the surface. Before Rafe could respond, Topper groaned again, loudly this time, clearly done with the back-and-forth. “Get outta here, seriously. The two of you are disgusting,” he muttered, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he was going to walk out. You held up your hands in mock surrender, laughing softly.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” you teased, sliding off Rafe’s lap. Rafe stood, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer as the two of you made your way outside. The night air hit you immediately, crisp and cold, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, pulling you against him as if he could keep you warm just by being close.

Rafe leaned back against the side of the house, the dim glow of the porch light casting shadows across his sharp features. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the faint trail of smoke curling lazily into the cool night air as he gazed down at you. He wasn’t really paying attention to the words spilling from your mouth, your voice a pleasant hum in the background, but his eyes were locked on you—specifically, the way your glossy lips moved as you talked.

You were leaning casually against the wall, your phone in hand, gesturing slightly as you yapped about the latest gossip swirling around Figure 8. Your voice was animated, every detail about who hooked up with whom and who got into another petty fight filling the air with energy.

Rafe, however, was only half-listening, his attention drawn more to the subtle curve of your lips, how they glistened under the soft light each time you spoke. The way your mouth moved was more captivating than any story you could tell. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, the embers lighting up briefly as his gaze drifted lower, trailing from your lips down to your neckline, his mind wandering.

You didn’t seem to notice his distracted state, too engrossed in the details of your latest story. But to Rafe, it didn’t matter what you were saying. He was content just watching you, the way you moved, the way your presence filled the space between you both.

You continued talking, the glow of your phone illuminating your face as you swiped through the latest drama on social media. “So apparently, Anna broke up with Drew,” you said, your voice filled with excitement as if it was the most riveting thing that had happened all week. “And get this—she’s already seeing Chase. Like, they were spotted together at The Wreck, can you believe it?”

Rafe exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his eyes lazily following the movement of your lips, still half lost in his own thoughts. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled in response, barely processing the names you were tossing out. His mind kept drifting—your lips, the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the cool night air.

You didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm as you scrolled through your phone, continuing. “And then there’s Claire—God, she’s still with that guy from The Cut. You know everyone’s talking about it, right? Like, what is she even thinking? She could do so much better, but nope, she’s still with him.”

Rafe took another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash off to the side before responding, his tone casual and almost uninterested. “Yeah, she’s an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze still fixated on your lips, completely disconnected from the gossip itself. You sighed, exasperated by how uninterested he seemed. “Are you even listening, Rafe?” you asked, shooting him a playful glare, though you knew this was how he always acted when you talked about Figure 8 drama.

He smirked, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips as he finally met your eyes. “I’m listenin’,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “I just don’t care about half the people you’re talkin’ about.” You rolled your eyes, leaning in just a little closer. “You should care. It’s your crowd, Rafe. You act like you’re too cool for it, but you know you love it when someone else’s life is falling apart.”

Rafe chuckled, his hand firmly tugging you closer by the waist. “Nah, I just like watchin’ you get all worked up about it,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips as he tossed his cigarette aside, his focus now entirely on you. You sighed, tucking your phone into your back pocket, arms crossing over your chest as a shiver ran down your spine.

“Can you hurry up? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” you groaned, leaning into Rafe for warmth. The night air was biting, and the flimsy dress you’d chosen was doing nothing to help. Rafe smirked, wrapping an arm casually around your neck and pulling you against him.

“Quit whining. I already warmed you up earlier,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as they glanced down at you. His hand rested possessively on your hip, the cockiness in his tone making you roll your eyes. You were about to fire back a snarky remark when a voice cut through the darkness. "Rafe!" someone called out, the tone sharp and angry.

Before you could turn to see who it was, you suddenly felt a rough pair of hands grab your shoulders and shove you aside with force. The world seemed to tilt for a moment as you let out a startled shriek, your body stumbling as you lost your balance, crashing into a bush. The cold leaves scratched against your skin, the shock of the shove still fresh as you blinked, trying to regain your composure.

“What the fuck, Barry?!” Rafe’s voice exploded with fury as he shoved the man back, his stance immediately tense, ready to throw a punch. But before he could escalate, he turned back to you, eyes wide with concern. He was by your side in an instant, one hand gripping your arm, steadying you as you struggled to get up.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice softening, all the teasing from before gone, replaced by genuine worry. His hands moved to gently brush the dirt and leaves off you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of injury. You took a deep breath, still a little shaken, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice quieter now.

But your eyes were narrowed, darting to Barry, who stood a few feet away, his face twisted in a malicious grin, his energy dark and threatening. “Oh, my bad, Princess,” Barry sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glared at you. “Just here to let your boy know he’s gotta pay up. Real fuckin’ soon.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Rafe instinctively moved you behind him, his body blocking yours in a protective stance. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “Pay up? What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe snapped, his voice rising with frustration. “I already gave you the money—what more do you want?”

Barry chuckled darkly, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. “Yeah, you gave me some of it,” he growled, his tone low and threatening. “But we both know that wasn’t the full amount, Cameron. I don’t like bein’ shortchanged.” Rafe’s posture stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as he squared up to Barry, tension rippling through his body. “You got what I owed you,” Rafe hissed, his voice laced with fury.

“I’m not giving you a goddamn cent more.” Barry took another step forward, his gaze shifting from Rafe to you, a wicked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better be careful, Rafe,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. “You wouldn’t want Princess here to get caught in the middle of your little debt, would you?”

Rafe’s entire body went rigid, the implication in Barry’s words sending a jolt of rage through him. He stepped closer to Barry, his voice low and dangerous. “You keep her out of this,” Rafe growled, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.” You stood behind Rafe, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

You could see the barely contained fury in Rafe’s stance, the way he was holding himself back from lunging at Barry right then and there. Barry gave a mocking shrug, stepping back with a grin still plastered on his face. “We’ll see about that,” he said casually, turning on his heel as if the conversation was over. “But I’ll be back, Rafe. You know where to find me. Don’t make me wait.”

He shot one last look over his shoulder before disappearing into the night, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the cold, the air heavy with unsaid threats. Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, his expression softening only slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, his voice still tight with lingering anger.

You nodded, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. “What the hell was that about, Rafe?” you asked, your voice a mix of concern and frustration. He sighed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s nothin’ you need to worry about,” he muttered, though the look in his eyes told you it was anything but nothing.

"Why the fuck was a drug dealer walking through my house?" Topper’s angry voice sliced through the tension, making both you and Rafe turn toward him. His face was red, brows knitted together in fury as he stormed up to the two of you. The pulse of the party inside was distant, but the rage in Topper’s voice filled the silence outside.

His eyes landed on you, taking in your disheveled appearance, the dirt on your dress, and the lingering shock in your expression. “The fuck happened to you?” he demanded, his gaze sharp and piercing, searching your face for answers. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the remnants of the altercation with Barry.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, brushing a hand over your arm as if to wipe away the discomfort. “Bullshit,” Topper snapped, cutting you off before you could even try to explain. His anger shifted, his eyes narrowing as they darted to Rafe, who was still standing protectively in front of you. “I told you to take care of my sister,” Topper growled, his voice low but filled with fury.

“I don’t want her around a fucking drug dealer, Rafe!” Rafe straightened up, his expression hardening. “Topper, calm the fuck down,” he shot back, his voice steady but laced with annoyance. “It wasn’t like that.” “Oh really?” Topper scoffed, taking a step closer. “’Cause from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like it was like that. What the fuck is Barry doing here, and why is my sister gettin’ shoved into a goddamn bush?!”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “Barry’s deal is with me. I’m handling it,” he muttered, but the tightness in his voice betrayed the weight of the situation. “I didn’t know he’d pull shit like that.” “That’s not good enough, Rafe,” Topper spat, his voice rising. “She’s not some collateral damage in whatever fucked-up deal you have goin’ on.” You stood between them, feeling the heat of the argument escalating, the tension rolling off both of them in waves.

“Topper, seriously, I’m fine,” you tried to interject, though your voice was drowned out by the two of them squaring up. Rafe shot a glare at Topper, his patience thinning. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.” Topper barked out a laugh, disbelief in his voice. “Under control? My little sister gets shoved around, and that’s you havin’ things under control?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his temper flaring. “Watch it, Top,” he warned, his voice dark. “Barry’s my problem, and I’ll deal with him. You don’t need to worry about her.” But Topper wasn’t backing down, his protective instincts kicking in as his eyes darted between you and Rafe. “You better,” Topper seethed, his voice dangerously low.

“’Cause if this happens again, I won’t just be worried—I’ll make sure this thing between you and her is done. I don’t care what you two have going on, Rafe. If she gets hurt because of your shit, I’ll end it myself. She deserves better than to be dragged into whatever mess you’re caught up in.” Your jaw dropped, disbelief flooding your face. “You don’t mean that—” you began, your voice trembling as you searched Topper’s eyes for any sign that he might back down.

But the fierce determination in his gaze made it clear he was dead serious. “Oh yes, I fucking do,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade, unwavering in its conviction. “And I’ll tell Mom and Dad.” The threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating, charged with unspoken tension.

A chill raced down your spine, and your heart pounded violently in your chest at the thought of your parents getting involved. They had always been skeptical about your relationship with Rafe, questioning his intentions and whether he was truly good for you. You could almost hear their voices in your head, echoing their concerns “He’s trouble,” and “You deserve someone better.” The idea of them finding out about the chaos swirling around you made your stomach churn.

“Topper, wait—” you tried to interject, stepping forward to bridge the widening gap between them. “You can’t just threaten Rafe like that. It’s not fair—” “Fair?” Topper shot back, cutting you off with a glare. “What’s not fair is that my sister is getting mixed up with someone who can’t keep her safe. This isn’t just about you two playing house; this is serious!”

Rafe stepped in, his voice steady but edged with irritation. “I get it, Topper. You’re trying to protect her, but you’re not seeing the whole picture. I care about her. You think I want any of this to happen?” “Then act like it!” Topper snapped, his frustration boiling over. “You’re letting this shit happen right under your nose. If you truly cared, you’d make damn sure it never came to this.”

The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, a taut string ready to snap. You glanced at Rafe, searching for reassurance, but his jaw was clenched tight, frustration and anger warring in his expression. “Topper, please,” you pleaded, your voice softer now, desperate to diffuse the situation. “You know how much Rafe means to me. He’s not like that—”

“Not like what?” Topper interrupted, his voice rising again. “Not like a drug dealer? Not like someone who can’t keep his life together? You’re smarter than this, and I refuse to watch you throw yourself into the fire just because you think you can handle it.” Your heart sank as you realized that his anger was coming from a place of love, a protective instinct that had always been there.

But it still hurt to see him turning on Rafe, the person you cared about deeply. Rafe’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. “Topper, if you really want to protect her, then trust me to do the same,” he said, his voice calmer, but the fire still simmered beneath the surface. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“Promises don’t mean shit when you’re dealing with guys like Barry,” Topper shot back, his voice taut. “You need to figure this out, Rafe. Because if you can’t, I’ll step in, and I won’t hesitate to make it clear to everyone—including Mom and Dad—that you’re not the right guy for her.” Rafe's lips part slightly as he glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern as he notices the tears welling up in your eyes.

“And you both know that the only reason this even works is because I’m allowing it. Mom and Dad are already skeptical enough about this whole thing. If anything goes wrong, you know it’ll be on me to explain why I let it happen” Topper says, his voice laced with frustration as he narrows his eyes at both of you.

He glances at you one last time, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment, before he turns and walks away, leaving the tension hanging in the air. As soon as he’s out of sight, the tears spill down your cheeks, warm and stinging. “Rafe…” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, but Rafe doesn’t respond with words.

Instead, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly, enveloping you in his warmth as you quietly sob against his chest. “Shh, it’ll all be fine, don’t worry about it, okay?” he murmurs softly, his voice a gentle balm against your hurt. His hand caresses your hair, fingers weaving through the strands in a soothing rhythm as you cling to him, seeking comfort in his presence.

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mggsv · 11 months ago

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SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind��a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

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lovely-peace · 6 months ago

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Embarrassing!

Summary: The marauders are popular in school, sure. But that doesn't mean that they are really nice. In the end you are just living the basic high-school experience.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 2 Part 3

"You four back there, pull yourselves together now or I'll break you up!"

James' laughter could be heard all the way to the front, to my ears, along with the giggling of the girls next to me.

Great. So I must have been wrong again.

Professor McGonagall was now looking at me, teachingly. "To get back on topic. You have the right idea, but it's not quite that simple. To transform a body, it is of great importance…"

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. You weren't that far off the mark." Lily tried to comfort me. That was easy for her to say, she would never be wrong.

And the golden git Gryffindors would never make fun of her.

"Maybe."

"Evans, will you come here?" There stood the loverboy James, ready to have another go at her.

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled apologetically at me. "Don't take these idiots seriously, okay?"

With that, she walked in his direction, and did just that.

But I shouldn't be so hard on her because she was really trying to cheer me up, even though we're not really friends. She's clearly, well, more present than my friend Amy and me.

Amy was Gryffindor just like me, but didn't have transfiguration. She called the subject "A walking unnecessary babble".

Oh how I wish I had thought that when I chose my subjects.

I could still see Sirius grinning as James talked to Lily, Remus just stood there ashamed and Peter patted him on the shoulder.

Sirius noticed my look and whispered something to Remus, who flinched and turned away. I snorted.

Sirius' laughter was still ringing loudly in my ears, long after I had escaped to Amy's and my dorm.

"Well, I think they're really annoying. That's all." Amy pushed a plate of dinner towards me. She immediately realized something was wrong and I wasn't ready to go to dinner. I was very glad she was so good at the invisibility spell.

"Yes, but everyone likes them. Even Lily likes the four of them, even though she's always upset about them!" I groaned loudly and accepted the plate gratefully.

Amy looked at me with a smile. "Well, I don't really like them. They're entertaining, but I think they lack empathy."

"I think they're all stupid ego centers who only make themselves so important because they actually feel so bad about themselves." I took a big bite.

"And yet you can't stop talking about the four of them." Amy was grinning now. "I thought you said the other day that 'Remus isn't actually that bad and nice to talk to'?"

I almost choked at the mention of meeting the quieter boy of the group. It had been three months since we had met and talked in the library.

"That was something else. He just watches and lets the others get away with everything." I quietly turned to my food and Amy dropped the subject.

Oh, how I hated this cycle. Getting up. Eating at a house table where I know everyone and yet no one really. Subjects in which I will eventually make a mistake. Skipping meals to avoid the stares. Sleeping.

Hogwarts isn't that different from other schools. The same faces making fun of the same things. But we're all supposed to be adults soon, aren't we?

I should stop before I sound like an angsty teen.

Breakfast. New day, same course. I sat down opposite Amy and a laugh escaped my lips at one of her jokes.

But then another girl sat down next to me. Marlene McKinnon.

"Hey, you two, how are you?" she smiled, but something made me uncomfortable.

"Good, good." Amy laughed. "And you?"

"Oh, just fine." Marlene looked at my plate as if to check something. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable having a few chocolate cookies in the morning.

She turned to me. Oh no.

"Hey, this might be a bit sudden, but I'd like to know something." There was this twinkle in her eye that I didn't like at all.

I looked at Amy, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay?" Very carefully. Don't make any big mistakes.

"If you had to date someone from Gryffindor, who would it be?"

I looked confusedly at Amy, who had to pull herself together not to burst out laughing.

"What?"

Marlene shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was just a bit curious as I've never seen you in a relationship with anyone before."

I saw her eyes twitch briefly to the right. When I looked in that direction, not very inconspicuously, I saw Sirius whispering something to James. He grinned at Remus in response.

Oh.

"Well, I can't really think of anyone right now, sorry Marlene."

She looked at me in surprise and wanted to say something, but Amy gasped in shock. Shocked, she clutched her chest. "After everything we've been through!" she didn't exactly say that quietly. To my dismay, quite a few heads turned towards us. Including the idiots.

"Amy-" I began, but she talked herself into her theater rage. "Hush! I don't want to hear any excuses! I thought we were something special! But no. In the end, I'm just another one of the many picks that will never be taken." She stood up. She skillfully looked away and took in the audience. "I can reassure you. I was prepared for all of this."

"Amy, it's not what you think!" I played along a little now. "I couldn't be so open about something so… Say something like that!"

Amy furrowed her brow. "Girl, no homo."

The Gryffindor table laughed and we fled the room.

Outside, we also laughed a bit, but Amy quickly composed herself.

"Did you see how he looked at you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Remus, of course."

"Maybe it's because you made a big show," I said playfully, heading towards our next class.

"Hmm, but I think then he wouldn't have looked at you so longingly-"

"Amy!"

"With red cheeks and big heart eyes!" I walked faster while she laughed.

"That's all nonsense. Marlene only asked because one of those idiots requested it."

Amy looked at me confused. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh, they were looking at us too. And yesterday they were whispering among themselves. They probably find me really funny."

Amy became very quiet after that.

The only sounds were our footsteps and voices in the distance.

"You know," Amy began quieter than usual. "It's not like it used to be. We're all slowly growing up. We're not the odd ones out anymore. I think," she took a deep breath. "That the four of them won't make fun of us, of you, anymore."

How much I wished I could believe that. But I won't be able to, even if Remus talks to me in the library or Peter asks me if I like certain creatures.

Because in the end, I gave up on that a long time ago.

#marauders era #marauders #the marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #high school

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kakujis · 1 year ago

Text

do you love me?;

tokrev ver.

synopsis: you/they wake them/you up at 3am.

ft + wc: isagi yoichi, michael kaiser, oliver aiku. around 2k

warnings: gn!reader, no set timelines, pet names, situationship (oliver) extremely! soft! oliver!!, slightly angsty (oliver), slight jealousy (kaiser), kaiser's is suggestive, none really for isagi! aaand that should be it!

a/n: i finally finished something!! i've been in such a rut not only with writing but with reading. TnT. hopefully i can write more once my semester is finished! anyways, i wrote oliver's in basically one sitting kicking my feet n screaming. also ily to zen cus i dropped like the entire fic in their dms LMFAOO. and ily to su for proofreading for me!! hope u enjoy ♡.

ETA: DO NOT TRANSLATE OR SHARE ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM. THANK YOU.

isagi:

you always saw the twinkle in isagi yoichi’s eyes when he talked about soccer. it was cute, charming, and part of what attracted you to him. when the two of you finally started dating, soccer was very much a part of your lives. you’d pop in at practice whenever you could and much to his delight, you’d even try to learn about his idols and the game.

when you studied it on your own, it was fine, you could go at your own pace. but when isagi was there, it was a little different. he always had so much to say, so many techniques and teams to go over. he was like a walking soccer encyclopedia and you appreciated it, even when it got a little overwhelming.

but tonight, as he talked your ear off about noel noa for the nth time, you found yourself dozing off. the black haired striker’s eyes were glued to the match he was playing on the tv, every so often rewinding or slowing down a play to explain it. you tried your best, really, to stay awake but it was nearing 3am and soon enough yoichi was speaking to himself.

“man, that was sick!” he exclaims. he’s about to ask your opinion when he finally looks back to see your head in your arms, asleep. “…oh.”

he rouses you out of sleep, shaking your shoulder gently. when you awaken you’re met with his pouting face. you blink off the drowsiness, rubbing your eyes. “sorry i dozed off…” you reach for the remote, but he stops you. “yoichi?”

“do you love me?” you’re caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze.

you nod, “of course i do.”

“say it.” it’s not uncharacteristic for him to be intense at times, but the glint in his eye is something you usually only see when he’s playing. you didn’t think you’d see it now and it’s a bit amusing.

“i love you, yoichi.” you say, a smug grin on your face as you poke at his pouty cheeks. “aww, are you upset?”

snapping out of it, he waves your hand away, slightly turning while his cheeks blush bright red. “…no.”

“my baby,” you coo, continuing to reach over and squish his cheeks, “i’m sorry for falling asleep, yoi.”

“it’s okay…” he mumbles, enjoying the attention, “i didn’t realize you were so sleepy.”

“well, it is 3am…” you giggle, pointing to his alarm clock.

it’s cute how fast his head whips around to look. “oh… my bad.” he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“don’t worry about it,” you shrug, before getting up and pulling at his hands. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?”

but isagi pauses, conflicted, before glancing back at the tv. “… just one more play?”

“yoichi!” you whine, the idea of cuddling with your boyfriend in bed being extremely appealing.

“please?” he pleads, hands clasped, and you sigh, giving in to his doe eyes.

“fine. one more. that’s it and then we’re going to bed.” you say, settling down next to him. but if you’re being honest, you’re never immune to isagi yoichi.

the light in his eyes as he rambles and talks to you about his favorite thing always overwhelms anything else. you love him, wholly and fully. and maybe that’s why you don’t mention anything as one play turns to two, which then turns into the entire match. not a single word escapes you as he loads up the next game, telling you “this next one is insane.”

it’s isagi’s turn to fall asleep and as the sun peeks over the horizon, you press a peck to his cheek as you wrap a blanket over his shoulders.

“good night, yoichi.”

kaiser:

michael kaiser was many things, first and foremost a soccer player, secondly, a striker with a god complex and most importantly, your boyfriend. well, perhaps most important to you and although you’re mostly able to cast aside that doubt to love him fully, there are still moments when you just have to hear it.

it’s 3am and kaiser’s in deep sleep, evident by the subtle snores coming from him. in contrast, you’re fully awake and sitting next to him, one finger trailing the expanse of his skin, from the curve of his cheek to the line of his jaw. he stirs slightly, but nonetheless stays asleep and that annoys you.

“michael,” you whine, prodding at his cheek, “do you love me?” his eyelids flutter, face contorting to the singsong of your voice.

“huh?” he responds, eyes opening and brows furrowing into a scowl you continue to prod. he grabs your hand, pulling it away from him. “what is it?”

“do you love me?” you repeat, happily humming at his pretty face.

he tsks before grumbling out a “nein.” he huffs before turning over.

you pause, before scowling yourself. “what did you just say?”

“nein.” he reiterates, closing his eyes. “goodnight.”

you scoff, before shaking him again. “hey… seriously!” but it’s useless. kaiser’s decided it’s time for bed. truth be told, you should probably get some sleep too. but it’s annoying when you do feel like a side character in his story and not his co-lead. fine, you can be petty too.

you round up your pillows, sighing and making sure to climb over him as you get off the bed. he catches your wrist as you try to leave, brow arched.

“where are you going?” he asks, confused.

“the couch.” you deadpan.

“why?”

“i don’t wanna sleep next to someone who doesn’t love me.” you pout, hugging your pillow tightly.

“it was a joke, liebe.” he sighs, pulling you down back into bed. “of course, i love you.”

“hmm… you’re just pacifying me.” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and finally give you some of the affection you’ve been craving.

and he does, rolling his eyes before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he makes sure to give you a few more afterwards, your giggle floating around his ears. “happy now?”

“very.” you smile and he smiles back, but you can’t let him think he’s won just yet. “hey, i have a joke too.”

“yeah? and you think it’s better than mine?” he teases and you grin even wider, nodding excitedly. “i’m all ears.”

“okay. make sure you listen and like, really listen.” you command and he nods, moving his ear closer to your lips. “you’re a better player than isagi yoichi.”

his face falls immediately and you burst out laughing, pushing off of him and grabbing your pillow again. you figure after your little stint, you’ll seriously be sleeping on the couch.

“super funny, right? i should be a comedian.” you muse, before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “good night, emperor.”

you turn to leave again, but kaiser’s quick to pull you down and underneath him. you yelp as he straddles you, pinning your wrists above your head. he’s frighteningly close, the tips of his blonde and blue hair hovering over your skin.

there’s one thing about him that you don't know and it’s that he’ll never admit how soft you make him, how it’s actually he who melts at the sound of your voice. how it’s him who wants to hear nothing but endless praise from you, so maybe he did get a little mad at that joke.

“m-michael?” you squeak, squirming under his hold, “what are you doing?”

“what do you mean? i’ve gotta remind you who the best striker in the world is.” he states and you recognize that look in his eyes. you didn’t think it’d rile him up this much.

“babe, it was a joke!”

he barks a laugh as you squirm harder underneath him. “it’s gonna be a long night, liebe.”

oliver:

“hey oliver, do you love me?”

perhaps not the best time to ask, neon bright 3:00 AM displayed on your alarm clock lets you know that. but still, the beating of oliver aiku’s heart that drums through your ears prompts you to ask anyway.

he’s asleep, or so you think, and shirtless, with the press of your cheek against his chest, his skin feels warm. shyly, you stay looking at the wall, sometimes trailing down to his limp hand. meanwhile, your fingers ghost over his skin, writing little “i love you”s and infinity signs like an incantation or a spell.

“dumb question,” you continue, “i know you don’t.” you give a small smile, it’s how the situation between you two works. you can sleep together, hold hands, maybe even call each other ‘partners’, but you never breach that threshold. he’s always just out of reach.

but oliver is awake, eyes stirred open by the figure eights you’ve been writing on him. he’s been listening to you the entire time, eyes blinking up at the ceiling.

“well… in case you were wondering, i think i love you,” you confess, your heart thumping wildly, “like a lot, actually. do you… think i’m stupid?” you pause, before opening your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to answer, but oliver cuts you off.

“not really.” he says, the hand that was resting on your waist, starting to stroke your skin.

you freeze before pushing yourself up and off of him. “hey! h-how long have you been awake?”

he smirks and you hate the way your heart flutters, “a while,” he sits up, “hey, i love myself too.”

you deflate a little, it’s too much of the same, the same jokes and the brushing off of feelings. but you should know this by now, that he doesn’t love you. “yeah, just not me.” you look away, wishing he would lie to you just one time. “i should go-“

he reaches over, grabbing your chin between his fingers and leveling your gazes together. “i never said that.”

you blink, wide-eyed and you’re not sure what to do or even what to say. and while you’re sure your heart is beating so fast you swear he can hear it, you’re also emboldened, mustering up the courage to ask, “never said what?” but your voice comes out small, whispery and featherlight.

“that i don’t love you.” he says. he doesn’t break eye-contact, pretty two-tone eyes locked on yours.

you can’t help your emotions, the way they swell up in you overwhelmingly, as if you’re drowning in them.

“do you love me, oliver?” you’re too happy to be embarrassed by the break in your voice when you say his name, too fixated on the way he touches you so gently. it’s like he can’t hurt you now, no matter what he’s done before.

he nods, the hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek as he strokes his thumb reassuringly over your skin. he catches the tears that fall, thinking that it’s much better to see you happy cry than when he does something stupid.

“could you say it? please?” you sniffle, placing a hand over his, keening into his touch.

he gives a breathy laugh out of nervousness, before he clears his throat and says it, loud and clear. “i love you, y/n.”

you laugh through your tears, relieved, because all the time you spent wondering was okay and the wait was worth it. the way it rolls off his tongue is so natural and so warm it has your head spinning.

he brings up his other hand, wiping away at the tears that continue to fall. “c’mon baby, you’re gonna cry all night?” he teases, squishing your cheeks between his hands.

“‘m not dreaming?” you mumble, shaking your head, “this is real? you really love me?”

maybe when you wake up in the morning it’ll be different. maybe he’ll be back to the same old oliver, the one who deflects and dodges all your questions. so maybe it is a dream. but, if this is a dream… do they always feel so good? and is it possible to stay asleep?

he hums, before asking, “does this feel real?” as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. it’s sincere and authentic, the kind that makes your heart bloom. he pulls away, but only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. you nod and he grins, “good.”

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #blue lock x you #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #oliver aiku x reader #isagi yoichi #michael kaiser #oliver aiku #pibby writing

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kyeomofhearts · 1 year ago

Text

Again & Again | C.SC

+ summary: you caved in and fucked your best friend, but it was only a one-time thing… right?

+ pairing: scoups x fem!reader

+ word count: 4k

+ content: fwb!, chubby reader (love ya'll), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, pussy drunk cheol, size kink, angst, fluff.

+ WARNINGS: smut, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, rough sex, praise? pls lmk if I missed anything

🫧 AHHHHH this is my first fic on here! I tried proofreading it but I can only read so much :') I hope the people that see this, enjoy!

You wished you had an excuse for last night’s events, you really did, because how are you supposed to tell your best friend of ten years that you didn’t want to fuck him again?

Okay, that sounds harsh… but it’s the truth!

It’s not like he was a bad fuck either because it was quite the opposite. The man was incredible in bed, plain and simple. But you know how these things go, someone proposes the idea of friends with benefits, and then boom! Someone ends up falling for the other and now the whole dynamic is ruined. And you knew that you would be the one that fell for him.

There's no denying that there was always something more with Seungcheol, he was just different from your other friends. Your 'reasoning' was that you two had known each other for so long that you naturally saw him differently. This was something you tried to push time and time again. And for the most part, you were pretty successful in hiding your attraction towards him... except for last night.

Which leads us to our dreaded present. You have come to terms that the deed has been done (well done if you might say so yourself). And you most definitely cannot deny that yesterday’s events occurred because then you would be lying to yourself and Seungcheol-

“Hello? Are you even listening to me y/n?”

Shit.

“Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?”

Cheol scoffed and playfully flicked your forehead. He turned his whole body towards you, “I was saying that we should do this again. I really enjoyed last night so maybe we could make this a regular thing… if you wanted to that is.”

At least you knew he enjoyed last night, seeing how he wants more. But what if that's all he wants?

It’s now or never. You have to tell Cheol that it was only a one-time thing.

You turned your body to face Seungcheol and locked eyes with him. Even though you’ve seen his freshly woken up face countless times , it still brought butterflies to your stomach every time he looked at you. Especially his eyes, they somehow become even more droopier in the mornings. How could you ever say no to him when he looks like a lost puppy?

No. Stay on track.

“I don't know Cheol, I'm not sure if I can do that.”

And… here we go. You immediately see worry take over his face. His eyes somehow looked even more glossier than normal. You had to clarify yourself quickly or the damage would be irreversible.

You quickly throw your hands in the air for defense. “No, no, no… it’s not like that! I swear. I just don’t want to overcomplicate things Cheol. It’s just that I know how these things go and I seriously cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

He was about to say something before your hand went to his hair, going through his soft, fluffy locks. Seungcheol’s face seemed to relax with this gesture. You wanted to keep the atmosphere light and show him that nothing was going to change between the two of you.

It stayed like that for another minute or so.

He took a deep breath. “No I get it… But, my offer still stands you know.” He ruffled your hair while saying that last part.

God his morning voice sounds so raspy. Just how you like it. And it’s so tempting to just throw all of your self restraint away and fuck him again. But you know it’s for the best, I mean, it’s not that uncommon to fuck your best friend… right? Whatever. This whole thing will pass and you guys are just going to laugh about it someday in the future.

You giggled at that thought. But going back to what Cheol said.

“No yeah, of course. You know I would never turn down an offer to fuck you again.” This was a lie of course, but you had to keep it light. Although, this did make Cheol’s ears flush a bright red, which is very uncommon to see. Laughing, you were able to roll out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed your frame as you went about in his room, gathering all of the lost pieces of clothing that you did not care for last night.

What you didn't know was that Seungcheol felt the same exact way about you. He was just as scared as you though, which is why he never pushed for more. Scared that he would lose you if he did so. He thought that maybe last night could lead the two of you for more, he just didn't know how to approach you about it.

He tried ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. Your response worried a part of him because he knew that last night was for sure going to change your friendship, whether he liked it or not.

"Hey, I have to go now, but I'll see you later, yeah?" You said while waiting for him to walk you out.

"Yeah, for sure."

It will all work out, he thought. It has to.

All good things eventually come to an end.

That ‘good thing’ being your resolve. One week. A total of seven days before you came crawling back to Seungcheol about that deal. Because at this point you did not care about what was going to happen next.

From: You

Hey, I know it’s late but are you home rn?

Sent at 11:42 pm

You were desperate at this point. You thought that maybe Cheol was “great” in bed because he was the only person you’d had sex with within the last six months. So naturally, you decided to hook up with a stranger from the bar, to test your theory.

Not the best idea.

When you guys got to his apartment, he was all over you, but not in a good way. It felt rushed and sloppy. What you had forgotten during your night with Cheol was that some guys really did not care about your pleasure. Because not even two minutes of making out, and the guy was already trying to stick it in! To make matters worse, the guy didn’t even know where your clit was, like come on! Overall, it was a terrible experience.

Which is why you were in your current situation. You had weighed the pros and cons of fucking Cheol on a regular basis. …And they weren’t too bad. If anything, the two of you had excellent communication so if a problem came up then you could just talk it out, no big deal.

But god did you feel pathetic. You were so quick to shut his idea down and now you’ve come crawling back to his-

From: Cheollie

Yeah what’s up?

Sent at 11:53 pm

Relax. If he says no, then he says no. Not a big deal.

From: You

Well, if you’re not busy… I was thinking about a follow up from last week?

It’s okay if you changed your mind about it! I was just curious if you were still up for it 🫣

Sent at 11:55 pm

You immediately put your phone on ringer and threw it to the couch. The thought of seeing his text bubbles in real time gave you so much anxiety. Maybe you should just take a lap around your kitchen, that always helps right?

Not even a foot away from the couch and… he was calling you?

You scurried over to your phone and accepted the call with haste.

“He-”

“I’m coming over in ten.” And then he hung up.

Wow. That was pretty dramatic, he couldn’t have said that through text? Although, you couldn’t deny just how excited you were. It certainly didn’t help that he seemed to be just as ready as you were for him.

These next minutes of waiting were going to be hell for you.

Needless to say, you were thrilled.

You figured that with the time you had, you could at least spruce yourself up.

Which is exactly what you did.

You changed out of your old pajamas and into something more presentable. By presentable you mean revealing because you really do not want to struggle to take off your clothes. Plus, you want to give Cheol a treat for being able to come out so late. So you also sprayed on that perfume he complimented you on a while back (totally not why you continued buying it). Maybe you should clean your apartment up? Seungcheol has seen worse but it never hurts you know.

You were about to go ahead and start cleaning but the doorbell rang.

Damn, he was fast.

The anticipation was eating you alive. You could not wait for what Cheol had in mind for you. Just the mere thought of him made heat rush down to your core.

Opening the door, you were met with Seungcheol. Not just his regular self though, he was in a black compression shirt with loose-fitting sweatpants. It was so simple yet so hot. You would have kept ogling until he cleared his throat.

“What made you change your mind?” He asked with a smug expression.

Ugh, if you weren’t so turned on you would definitely wipe that smile off his face… but you needed dick bad. Like really bad.

“Well I would lie to you and say that I thought it through but I’m really horny right now…”

You turned away from him to close the door.

“Well, we can always talk about it after… right? Or maybe you’ll be too fucked out to even talk.”

Now this made you turn swiftly towards him.

Which was a big mistake. His face was merely inches away from yours and you could even smell his cologne radiating off of his body. His eyes were dark, something you only saw when he would talk to girls at the club. Only this time it was directed towards you.

You went for the kill and locked your lips against his. You needed to taste him again, you were just that insatiable. His lips were so soft and plush against your own. You were always jealous of his lips, they were always somehow perfect.

Your arms slid over his shoulders to draw him closer to you. Now pressed as close as possible, your hands began to wander throughout his torso. You never truly noticed just how broad his shoulders were, never mind his chest. You wished that he never stop whatever he was doing at the gym, because clearly it was working.

As much as Seungcheol loved the attention, he felt the need to taste you again.

“Open,” he said with a low rasp.

You obliged and opened up for him, allowing him to nibble at your lower lip. He kissed you with the same amount of fervor. He raised his hand to tangle his fingers around your hair. Seungcheol’s fingers tightened their grip causing you to let out a small whimper.

Now that was a sound Cheol loved to hear, especially coming from you. He wanted to see just how loud you could get.

Carefully, Seungcheol readjusted his grip on your hair and firmly tugged on it once again. This was his way of testing the waters, since he didn’t know how rough you liked it.

When you whimpered once again, he made sure to take a mental note of that.

Things began to get increasingly heated by the second. Which is why you decided that it was (finally) time to relocate to your bedroom.

...

Once the two of you had reached the door to your bedroom, Cheol had suddenly lifted you off the ground.

Now you weren't necessarily a fan of being picked up, considering you weren't 'light' like others. Totally not traumatized from previous partners struggling to pick you up...

“Now why would you do that?" You tried to keep it cool but it was obvious that you were a little frazzled. It honestly scared you that he was able to lift you up so easily, like what was he training for at the gym?

“Just because I can,” Seungcheol said nonchalantly. His voice made you gush with wetness, it was just that deep.

After that, he gently threw you on your bed. Maybe he just wanted to show off his strength, you thought. It was still hot either way.

He slowly started stripping, starting with his shirt. Seungcheol was a big dude, and you knew that, but seeing him in all of his glory really did something to you. Though the lighting in your room was dim, the shadows did an excellent job of emphasizing just how big his chest was. He was undeniably handsome, you could see why everyone threw themselves at him...

You were staring again. Get a grip!

"Quit with the teasing and just fuck me," you were getting more desperate by the second.

This made him even more cocky, but he didn't say anything. Rather he tugged at your shorts for you to take them off. So you did, and your cunt was immediately hit by the cold air in the room.

"No underwear?" Cheol said, trying to not make his surprise evident.

You felt like being bold today, who knows what he’ll do to you if you teased him enough.

"Why bother when you were gonna take it off anyways?"

That's when he knew you were going to be the death of him. How could he ever think about being with anyone else when you were perfect for him?

"Fuck, don't say shit like that."

Seungcheol was enamored with your body and everything that you had to offer. The soft plushness of your skin made him want to break you even more. But before he broke you, he had to give you a taste of heaven.

He started off by trailing sweet kisses on your thighs. He took his time on working you up. Eventually he reached your cunt, pressing light pecks on it.

He wanted to take his time here, remembering just how sensitive you got when he ate you for the first time. His goal was to have you crying by the end of the night.

“God, I forgot how good you tasted love,” he mumbled into your pussy.

Seungcheol used his arms to hoist your legs on his shoulders. His grip on your thighs now firm and steady.

He started off light, giving you slow and gentle licks on your clit. He wanted to slowly build you up to your first release (more like an excuse to tease you).

This seemed to please you, but not for long. You could only enjoy the slow pace for so long until you started craving for more.

Fortunately, Seungcheol had been growing his hair out, making it the perfect length to tug on.

You didn’t realize how good and bad this move would be.

This for sure got him to speed up his movements. Instead of gentle licks, he switched to harsh sucking. Occasionally groaning into your pussy, which brought you delicious vibrations. He was eating you out like a starved man, he just couldn’t get enough of you.

With his consistency, it was no surprise that you already started to feel the warmth in your lower belly. It's not like it was hard to make you cum either, that is if you knew what you were doing.

Seungcheol knew this, he felt the way you were beginning to twitch and tighten your legs around his head. God did he love just how plush and warm they were. He thinks he could stay here forever if given the opportunity. He began to speed up his efforts in hopes of bringing you to your first release of the night. The more releases, the easier it gets for him to slide into your (heavenly) pussy.

And just as he was thinking about this, you came.

But Cheol wasn’t feeling nice today, he wanted to push you past your limits. So even after you came, he still kept the same pressure and speed on your now sensitive bud.

You tried to get him to slow down, or at least just give you a little break. Tugging his hair didn’t seem to work, in fact, it worsened it. He would speed up every time you tugged on his locks. You were beginning to feel the same warmth in your belly. Two minutes haven't even passed since your first orgasm!

Just a few more licks and you were spasming against Seungcheol's head again. Finally, you pushed his head away from your overly sensitive cunt, this seemed to do the trick.

"Aw, is my pretty girl already tired?" He cooed while moving his face up to yours.

You didn't reply to him. Feeling spent from your first and second orgasms for the night.

"I hope you know that this is just the beginning love, I haven't even stretched you out yet," he whispered right before diving in to give you a kiss.

You have never tasted yourself before, it was a bit salty but nothing too strange. His hands roamed over your waist, just before going up to settle on your chest.

He softly tugged at your shirt so you would let him take it off.

Now Seungcheol was aware of how you felt about your body. Having heard your frequent frustrations with being on the chubbier side. And no matter how much he reassured you that you were beautiful, you still managed to doubt yourself. He never understood that which frustrated him just as much. He just wanted to show you just how gorgeous you were in his eyes.

So while he had the chance, he was going to show you how much he loved your body. He was going to worship you. Seungcheol peppered your chest with small chaste kisses, and he continued all the way down to your boobs. His tongue passionately flickered over one of your hardened nipples, with his hand softly massaging your other breast.

While his hand was working on your hardened bud, his other hand slithered its way down to your cunt. His thumb made slow circles on your clit, while two of his fingers teased at your entrance. Fortunately, you were wet enough to slide in with little resistance. He made slow scissoring motions to open you up for him. While he wasn't necessarily trying to make you cum, he did want to make this at this pleasurable at the very least.

But you were growing needier by the second. You loved his attention to foreplay, but god did you just want him to get inside you already.

"Please, Cheol, just get inside, I'm more than ready by now." Your face was burning, never have you begged someone to fuck you.

Your plea was more than enough and he quickly stopped everything he was doing. He got out of the bed to shimmy out of his sweats and underwear. And... god was he big. You were never the best at hiding your expressions, because one look at you and Seungcheol started laughing.

"Is something wrong?" He asked with feigned concern.

"Don't tease me right now!" You huffed with slight annoyance.

He chuckled while digging in his sweats for a condom. His smile quickly dropped when he didn't feel anything in his pockets.

Now it was your turn to laugh at him.

"I forgot to bring a condom."

You knew what you were going to recommend was dumb. But since you knew Seungcheol pretty well, you trusted him.

"We... can do it without one," you said, trying to make your voice sound confident enough.

His eyes grew wide, surprised to hear that you would let him fuck you without protection.

He took a deep breath before responding. "I know I'm clean, and I've never fucked anyone without one. I just want to make sure you are completely okay about this."

"I promise." Plus you were on birth control, it was going to be fine.

That being said, Cheol got back on the bed and settled himself between your legs. He gave his cock a few pumps before he settled it near your cunt. Within a few seconds, he slowly began to push the head inside. The initial push stung a bit, but it quickly dissipated once he went further inside.

His eyes fluttered shut at your tightness alongside letting a rough groan out.

Once he was fully inside you, he stayed there for a minute, just wanting to let you adjust to his size. After a beat or so, he experimented with a gentle thrust. You whimpered at the feeling, you wanted more so you decided to clench around his cock to let him know. Seungcheol started at an easy pace, one that was able to tame your neediness. He held that pace for a minute before he quickly switched gears on you.

He started pounding into your aching cunt, lifting your legs over his shoulders. Now this was on another level, it made it easier for him to hit that one spot.

You felt yourself clamp hard around Seungcheol's cock, feeling his thick veins dragging deliciously inside you. A whine was ripped from you as a wave of pleasure shot throughout your body. His hips started snapping into you, smirking every time you desperately cried his name out.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum again Cheol-"

"Not until I say so," as he continued snapping into your hips. The grip he had on you was growing rougher by the second. It was for sure going to leave a bruise in the morning.

He continued with his animalistic pace, grunts occasionally leaving his mouth. He started trailing messy kisses along your neck, sometimes focusing on specific areas. It was getting harder for you to hold your release, you could only last for so long...

"Come on love, you can cum," Seungcheol mumbled against your neck.

You didn't need to be told again, feeling your body shake against his. The sudden gush of wetness running between your legs. Quickly following your release, Seungcheol pulled out and came all over your stomach.

Part of you felt disappointed that he didn't come inside you, but you tried to push that feeling down.

Everything started feeling hazy, you didn't even feel it when he got off the bed to go to the bathroom. Just before you fell asleep Seungcheol lightly tapped your leg.

"Let me clean you up, yeah?"

You flinched once the rag made contact with your cunt, it was just so cold. But it only lasted for a minute.

You felt the bed dip once again and Seungcheol covered the two of you with your blanket. He wrapped his strong arms around your body, pulling your back flush to his chest. He buried his face into your neck and lulled the two of you to sleep.

You woke up to the feeling of fingertips lightly touching and tracing over your side. It was oddly soothing.

When you moved your eyes up to his face, he was looking at you with fond eyes.

"How long have you been staring at me, weirdo?"

"Only for a minute"

You let out a soft giggle. His face was so puffy in the morning, so cute.

"Did you want to come up with some ground rules for our arrangement?"

Crap. You forgot about that.

"Hmmm... I guess my only thing is not sleeping with other people."

Hopefully, he would agree to that. You just didn't feel comfortable messing around with someone knowing they have been sleeping with others.

"Yeah, I can get with that." He said with a gentle tone.

He added, "We should also let each other know when we are talking to other people."

"Of course."

Your arrangement wasn't too difficult. If anything the two of you could always opt out of it.

That should be easy right?

Part Two: II

#seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #smut #kpop smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #scoups #choi seungcheol #luv writes

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luvlyycy · 5 months ago

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a/n — hiiii , >< . the bed pic is YOUR bedroom fyi. also, this is a cheating fic cus reader has a bf (toji) n yknow blahblahblah blah. 'n kuna smokes. (its bad for your lungs, i dont even smoke lol) also kuna is bi curious lmao. chubby reader !!!!

♡ ──╮꒰ Summary ! ꒱ , , , Your boyfriend bugs Sukuna. It isn't the fact that he dislikes Toji, he actually really (reallllyyyyy) likes him— but it's the fact that he's fucking you and Sukuna isn't.

He thinks it's been around five years since Toji had been his roommate, not bothering to actually pinpoint the years. He tolerates Toji, and by that I mean, they are really good friends. They'll smoke together whenever the chance arises— maybe go out for a drink as well. Sukuna really liked the guy, seriously. Although, there was one thing about him that really ticked him off.

Toji was a whore.

That's not said lightly, I mean fuck, the guy already got a kid. Every single fucking night there was some curvy hyper-feminine bimbo latched onto his roommate's arm. He would always hear the stupid fucking moaning, or cringe-worthy screams of a girl who watched way too much porn. That's not to say Sukuna didn't get his fuck on every now and then, but Toji was on another level. He's shocked his dick hasn't broke. He started to notice that there was one girl in particular who showed up more than the others, sometimes multiple times in a row.

Pretty girl, he thought, she doesn't moan like the others, not over dramatic, dresses cute, likes pink- you were really his type. Eventually during one of the smoke sessions between him and Toji, he brought it up.

"So," Sukuna started, sliding a hand through his hair as he sniffed, "you datin' that new bitch?" he chuckled out as he turned to his black-haired buddy who was taking a quick hit from the blunt before turning his head.

"Yeah, think so. Girl said she love me." he lets out a soft 'tch' noise in amusement, smoke exiting out from his mouth as he did so. He handed the bud over, watching how Sukuna's lips curled upward-

"She's pretty. Like, real cute type shit." he laughs as he grabs the blunt from Toji, placing it in his mouth and taking a short breath in, blowing out smoke afterwards.

"Her pussy's good too."

"Ah?" Sukuna let out, leaning his head back against the couch, his mind unfortunately wandering. Was it really? You probably have a tight pussy, maybe creamy. You'd look cute squirting. He smiles to himself before quickly frowning. He's only seen you in passing, he doesn't even know your name. The only words exchanged between the two of you were hello's and bye's.

'ding!'

Toji looks at his phone, seemingly reading a message, "Speak of the devil," he starts, causing Sukuna to glance over, "she wants me to come over for dinner. Said I could bring ya. You tryna come?"

He takes a moment, thinking before his mouth spoke before he could think, "Sure.".

That's how it started, seeming to be a routine of some sort, you would either cook or order dinner and invite them both over for movies- but, Sukuna had couch duty. Every night he would watch you cutely drag Toji to your bed room, sparkling lights catching his eyes for just a mere second before the door shut and your giggling died out. Like clockwork, he'd think, you would start moaning, squealing, whining, whimpering- it drove him crazy. Unlike the other girls Toji was into, you seemed to actually have a brain, seemed to actually register that your real moaning was fucking magnificent. He would be able to hear your soft sobs, 'what if we wake s'kuna?' , slurring over your words.

That would be the only time you said his name, the rest would be Toji. Some nights he would find himself pathetically pawing at his cock in his pants, it fucking hurts to be this hard, he thinks.

"Look at ya, creaming all over my cock. Ya like that? Yeah?"

Sukuna shut his eyes, pulling his pants down just below his heavy aching balls, grunting as he grabs hold of his throbbing dick.

"Mhhh, fuuuck— yes, yes, fucking love it. Oh godd."

You sounded so breathless, in such bliss. He moves his hand up and down, stroking his length as he pictured he was the one making you sound like that- he was the one making you cream on his cock. He let your name slip pass his pierced lips, as he circles his fist to match the pace he heard. Hard, fast, and rough.

"G'nna cum.." he mumbles, hearing a soft 'me too' from behind your door, he matches the routine by painting his abdomen white, muscles tense as he slams his head against the couch.

Fuck my life, he thinks.

Those nights were more often then not, but he wouldn't pay it any mind- in his eyes he were a measly cuck. That word hanging over him like a L on his forehead.

He's memorized your place by now, typically staying in the kitchen or living room— the kitchen happens to be his favorite. Even though sometimes you cook, you usually make him do it, saying when he's high he makes better food. It's cute 'n all, but it pulls at his heart— you like eating his food. He'll watch you eat his food, your cute eyes bright as you chomp, squishy cheeks full of food he made.

Stupid, he thinks as he sits beside Toji, blunt between his fingers as he stares at the ceiling— the ceiling is white, it accompanies your light pink decor.

"You look fucked." he hears Toji laugh out beside him, his eyes are half-lidded and he has a lopsided grin on his mouth per usual— scar on his lip stretching.

"Yeah?" Sukuna hazily replies moving his hand over to the other male's, passing the blunt. Toji fully grins, watching as Sukuna's eyes follow his tongue when he licks his lips, "Yeah.".

Sukuna watches as Toji places the blunt in his mouth, still looking at his so-called buddy, he sucks in a breath— taking his time to let out a quick groan as he does so.

Sukuna places his fingers subtly on Toji's bicep, pupils blown out— "You're fucking hot." .

Toji snickers, holding in smoke before grabbing Sukuna's cheek, he opens his mouth and lets the smoke roll out before chuckling afterward— Sukuna breathes in the smoke through his nose, eyes fluttering shut before opening when Toji releases him.

Toji stretches his arms out in front of him, " 'ight , let's clean this shit up 'fore she get back 'n whoop my ass." he turns his head towards the dazed man beside him, grinning again.

"Yeah, let's do that."

He doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with him. Is it Toji or you? He didn't even know he liked Toji like that— he was just high. Yeah, just high. He spends time cleaning up all the bud and freshening up the place before you get back, and when you do Toji kisses you on your glossy plump lips that Sukuna wish he could kiss too.

" Mind stayin' wit Sukuna for the day, baby?" he says, placing his hands on your waist— thumbs massaging your skin. "Why? Where you off to?" you frown as you hold your shopping bags at your side, squinting at your boyfriend.

"G'nna workout, relax." he laughs as he turns to Sukuna, who's seemingly beginning to sober up— you glance at him too, smiling as you look up at Toji, "Okay, don't be long alright? Or I'm whoopin' yo ass." you giggle, placing a chaste kiss to Toji, muttering 'love you' against his lips before he says it too.

You hop over to your couch, sitting down with a soft 'unf' before setting your bag in your lap as Toji gets ready to leave. Sukuna looks at you, silent— he's quietly taking in your beauty, your skirt leaving your thighs exposed, pretty pink nails holding onto your bag.

"Hey," you start.

"Ah??" he replies.

"Can you hold my bag for a sec? Bein' all dolled up is tirin'." you stifle a small giggle as you hold out your bag towards the man beside you, fingers adorned with silver rings grab onto the bag.

After you get up, it takes you a few minutes to unwind and get undressed— during that, Sukuna stares at the bag that you previously had in your lap, which is now in his. Whatever's in it is soft, he pictures a plushy— maybe a cat? Girls like cats. He uses pointer-finger and thumb to spread the bag open, glancing in it.

He spots earrings, necklaces, and— ah a plushie, a cat. It's a tiger. He'd grin, sharp canines mocking the plushie's as he did so. He places two fingers on the small toy's cheeks, squishing— it is.. kind of cute.. he frowns. Squish, squish. Squish, squish. His lips curl into a small smile, continuing his antics until he's snapped out of it—

"You can have it if you want, Kuna." you giggle, hips swaying as you walk towards the couch, oversized t-shirt n some short shorts on as you sit.

He frowns pushing the bag off his lap and laying it atop the table, "Whatever.".

You and he were undoubtedly close friends, there would be times like this when Toji would leave and you and he would be alone. You were touchy but too overly— you would place your legs on his lap and he would hold your feet, hand resting on your knee. The cold metal of his rings tickling your skin— similar to now.

Sukuna glances at the bag of bud on the table, then at you— being high around you was better than being sober, he thought.

"You smoke?" he questioned, reaching for your pink tray, not that you ever used it. You only had it for him n Toji.

"Nah," you lifted one of your legs, hands playing with the hem of your shirt, "I like my lungs." you giggle. Sukuna lets out a soft huff in amusement, beginning to roll a blunt for himself.

You turn your head towards the television, a shitty reality show about dating on, merely as background noise.

"Why you let me 'n Toji smoke in your house then?" he questions, your head turning towards him— licking your lower lip as he licks the wrap for his blunt, a smirk on his lips.

" 'Cause he's my boyfriend 'n you kinda like his boytoy, I guess." you look away, used to having this sculpture-like being in your home, distracting yourself by watching the shitty show mentioned earlier.

Sukuna scoffed, after a small while he placed the tray down and lighted his blunt, taking a few tries before tossing the lighter onto the table.

"His boytoy, huh? Never thought about that shit." he wraps his left hand around your ankle and pulls, making you giggle. You scoot closer to him, the back of your thighs on his as your bum resting on the couch.

'ding!'

Sukuna glances over at his phone on the arm of the couch, huffing out smoke as he taps on the message from Toji, an image to be precise.

Toji was flexing in the mirror, a grin adorning his features as sweat stuck to his forehead, hair just a bit messier than usual. He had no shirt on, grey sweatpants dangerously low on his waist— captioned with, 'shoulda came with me .' .

He huffs for a moment, eyes lingering far too long on the image before shutting it off and tossing it on the table, moving his attention toward you noticing how you watched TV with no interest.

He swaps hands, blunt now in his left— right hand grazing our cranium, fingers scratching at your scalp, "Wanna change the channel?" he asks as he does so. You let out a soft 'mnh', laying your head on his shoulder, scooting closer to his warmth.

Sukuna curses himself, how could he ever let Toji find you before he did? On the other hand, he's trying his hardest not to let his dick grow. Hyperaware of how you two are sitting, he glances down at your bare legs, then drags his gaze down to your ankles and right back up to your plump thighs. He fights the urge to fucking groan. He looks at your face, taking note of how your lips are almost touching his shirt— he wants to kiss you so bad.

He finds himself whispering your name, watching as your eyes flick up to meet his, seemingly sleepy.

"Yeah?"

If there had been an angel in his life it was you, he thinks as he turns his head away, taking a quick and small hit from the blunt fingers still rubbing at your scalp. He's at a loss for words— you pat his chest.

"What is it, Kuna?"

Fuck it.

He turns his head towards you, gripping the back of your cranium, he takes two moments to gauge your reactions— watching the way your mouth opens in a panic, then he kisses you.

You groan into his mouth as he just holds you there for a moment waiting to see if you'll reciprocate. It takes about a minute. He licks at your lips and you open them.

You fucking open your lips— for him.

He groans into your mouth as he begins to lick at every crevice in your mouth, tasting you. You whimper, before he pulls away, throwing his blunt onto the tray—

"Can we go to my room, Kuna? Ion like doin' it on my couch."

You've been fucked on the couch. Noted. He'd have to do that too.

"Lead the way." he huffs out, you press a small kiss against his lips before getting up, hand wrapped around his tattooed wrist— Sukuna follows you like a lost dog, managing to take his weed along with him.

You open the door to your room and he smiles at the sight of it— pink and white decorating your room as well as a light pink canopy hanging over your bed with dim yellow lights. You lead him towards your bed, plopping your butt on your soft bed as he stands over you— you lean backward, hands on the bed as you smile up at him.

Sukuna places a hand on your jaw, similar to the way Toji had done to him, before placing his lips on yours. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, dragging him down with you as you lay your back down.

Sukuna pulls away to look at your pretty face, admiring the way your eyes flickered from his lips then to his eyes, he grins— "You want me t'fuck ya?" he latches his lips onto your neck, kissing and licking, making his way down your body.

"God, Kuna..." you huff, hands grabbing onto the bigger male's shoulders, watching as he places his blunt and the lighter from his pocket on the pink desk beside your bed.

He drags his hands up your shirt, fingers reaching for your breasts— he kneads the supple flesh before rubbing and pulling at your nipples, his face right in front of them. He groans as he takes your shirt off, finding it troublesome, he takes a moment to ogle your breasts— latching his mouth on your left nipple, using his other hand to squish your nipple.

You arch your back into him, hands pulling on his locks as you squirm— he feels similar to Toji you thought, but much more sloppy. He slobbers on your tits before moving down to your shorts, he hooks his arm around your waist, sitting on his knees.

He peels your shorts off, groaning when he sees you wearing no panties, and that you're fucking soaked. He throws the shorts somewhere around the room eyes still hooked to your soaking fat pussy practically just waiting for him. Sukuna wraps another arm around your waist and pulls your pussy up to his mouth, treating you as if you were a doll. He attempts to wrap his mouth around your entire mound, licking and sucking at your clit and dragging his fat tongue in and out of your cunt.

He groans as he licks up all your juices, listening to your moans and whimpers when he bumps his nose on your clit— licking on your pussy lips to ensure he gets all the juices. "F—uhh,ck. Kunaaa... kuna, 'm gonna cum—.. nnnnhh."

"Gh, fuck. Cum, I want you to cum all over my fuckin' face." he huffs, burying his face into your heat and rewarding himself with pornographic moans from your mouth as he shakes his head side to side, his spit dripping from your shiny pussy down to your ass. You let out a long whine, hands shaking as you try to grab onto anything to ground yourself— squirming to attempt to run away. His grip tightens around your waist as he rides out your orgasm, squirt dribbling out of you and onto his tongue.

He stuffs his mouth full of your cunt for a few more minutes before letting you go, laying you flat in front of him.

You look at him through lidded eyes, watching as he licks his lips and wipes his chin, leaning down to kiss you again— forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

"Was that good, baby?" he whispers into your mouth, lowering his hand to your pussy to rub at your swollen clit earning a hiss from you. "Fuck, kuna, it's too much. Can't take it..—"

Haven't even fucked her yet, he thinks, grinning similar to the tiger plush you both left in the living room. Sukuna leans backward, removing his black shirt and throwing it away, silver accessories adorning his skin. You stare at his chest, eyes traveling along his tattoos before you pull on his black jeans, "take 'em off?", you ask.

"Take 'em off? Ya sure? Ya sure your pretty lil pussy can even take my dick?"

You pout, hands wrapping around your breasts, "pleeasee?"

He snickers, unbuckling his black belt and pulling it through the loops, then removing his jeans along with his boxers.

You glance down at his cock, watching his throb— he was a little longer than Toji, not thicker but definitely longer.

"Don't say it ain't gonna fit 'cus I know it will." he places his hand flat on your stomach, his rings now warm from all the times he touched you. He rubs the tip of his swollen cock against your clit, bumping it— "Stop squirmin', movin' too damn much." he huffs, letting you lift your legs and wrap your hands around them, squishing your tummy n boobs in the process.

He feels the rolls of your stomach underneath his hand and he smiles— you feel and look so beautiful, he must be blessed to have you even showing your cunt to him— Toji probably felt the same.

He uses his thumb to spread open your sticky pussy lips, watching clear bubbles seep out of your hole— he lets out a moan at the sight, removing his hand from your tummy to grab his cock, rubbing the tip on your entrance. He pushes the tip of his dick inside of you, eyes hooked on the way your cunt sucks him in.

"Your pussy always feel this good?"

you whimper in response, feeling your cunt stretch around Sukuna's cock, heavy balls resting on the curve of your ass.

Sukuna pulls your body closer to him, leaning over you as he reaches toward the desk beside your bed, grabbing his blunt and lighter — he places the blunt between his lips, using his hand to cover his lighter, taking a few tries but he lights it. He grins as he holds the smoke in his mouth, putting the blunt out on your shirt on the bed before tossing it back on the desk.

He holds the smoke in his mouth, placing his hands on either side of your head as he slowly drives his cock into your cunt— causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

"feels.. s'good, kuna." you huff, feeling his cock splitting you open is intoxicating— the mushroom tip of his dick pushing at your cervix. He takes a second to groan, smoke coming out from his nose and blowing on your face. He pulls his hips back and thrusts back into your heat— grin spreading on his face.

It's like a dream, the way your pussy sucks in his cock— the way your sloppy fucking cunt doesn't wanna let go of him— fuck, it's enough to make a man cry. It takes him a few seconds before he begins pumping his cock into you, driving as deep as he physically can. He wraps his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back— blowing out the smoke onto your skin.

"Feel good, mama?—" he growls, sharp canines sinking into your neck, surely leaving a mark for Toji to see. You nod absent-mindedly, lifting your hips to match along with his thrusts— your juices dripping from your entrance and onto the bed. "Yeah?" he leans up to watch your fucked out expression, admiring the way fat tears prickled in the corners of your eyes— mouth wide open as you spew out incoherent babbles. It's cute, you're cute— making such a silly face due to the onslaught he's giving to your cunt.. what a sight.

He can feel your pussy convulse, feel it get tighter— twitching around his fat cock, "You cummin'?" .

You grip his shoulders, legs shaking as you try desperately to come down from your high— it doesn't take awhile before he's pulling another orgasm out of your sensitive cunt. He grabs onto the back of your thighs, pressing them against your chest to drive his cock deeper into you. It takes everything in him not to cum, especially when your squirt drenches him and trickles down his balls.

His jaw clenches as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands resting on your cheeks, rings cold again.

" Mhh, I'm gonna cum in this slutty pussy." he snickers when he feels you're nearly loose pussy tighten around him, babbles of 'no's' or 'toji's gnna find out' exit your cute swollen lips. He doesn't care if Toji finds out. It doesn't bother him at all— not when the thought of Toji fucking his cum into you crosses his mind. Toji cumming in the same pussy that holds his spunk? Sounds like heaven in his mind.

"Da— nnnfg, fuck, daddy—"

He grins. You're so fucked stupid, you don't even register what you're saying.

"Huh, what is it, sweetie? Ngh, what do you want— fuuh, ck. Whaddya want from daddy?" he slows his hips, pressing his lips on yours in a soft kiss.

"You want daddy's cum?—" he scoffed, leaning down to press multiple kisses on your face as he fucks into you slowly— in an attempt to prolong his oncoming climax. You nod, hands now pressed against Sukuna's hard body leaving angry red marks in their wake.

"Words."

"Yes !!"

"I'll give it to ya then, mama. Fuck a baby into this cheating pussy." he babbles, picking up the pace— cock bullying your pussy, the fat mushroom tip poking into your cervix almost painfully. It doesn't take a while until he feels himself about to cum, letting out quick breathy groans.

"Kiss me." he groans out, you whine as you press your drool-laced lips on his, his snakebite piercings poking your lips as you kiss him— your tongues tangling together merely just licking against each other's, mouths open.

He whines for a second before moaning into your mouth, pressing his cock into you.

One, two, three, four— until he's emptying his heavy balls inside of you, spraying his seed everywhere. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," he repeats, still mindlessly humping into you until his cock goes flaccid, it doesn't register to him that you came as well.

You both stay there for a while, your legs sore as he still holds you in position, evidently folding you. He breathes slowly as he presses his forehead against yours, using his thumb to wipe tears away from your cheeks.

He stifles a whimper as he pulls out of you, the sudden emptiness making you wince— he lays beside you, leaning up against your pink wall, pink pillows against his back.

"Kuna??.."

"Huh?" he glances at your sleepy face, your eyes droopy as you attempt to get comfortable in your bed. Sukuna assists you by placing the blanket over your sore body.

"I'm sleepy." you giggle as Sukuna scrunches up his nose at you, using his hand to tickle your neck— "Sleep then." he stops as you just nod, still dazed by the sex you had earlier.

He watches as you snuggle up in your bed, laying your head on one of your many pillows. He looks for his phone, remembering he left it in the living room— he groans, getting out of the warm embrace of which was your bed. He pulls on his jeans, not bothering to button them up before exiting your room and entering the living room.

He spots his phone on the table where he must have thrown it, he bends over to grab it when he hears the door open and close— fuck. Sukuna gazes up to spot Toji walking through the door, sweaty. Black hair a mess as it sticks to his face, lips curling into a frown once he notices Sukuna without a shirt.

Sukuna stands up straight, stuffing his phone in his pocket before Toji can speak— big arms folded over, black compress shirt stretching over his muscles.

"Guess I'm late to the shit rockin' party." he huffs out, stepping closer to the male standing across from him. "Ya coulda asked me, asshole." he mumbles, one hand being pressed on Sukuna's chest forcefully.

It's strange, off-putting nearly. Toji didn't seem mad.

Sukuna stifled a chuckle, hand running through his hair, "Guess I couldn't wait." he responds, watching as Toji grins, scar enlarging.

"Lemme guess, she's asleep?"

Sukuna nods, hands now resting on his hips, eyes searching Toji's face for any discomfort— it feels as if he had been the one to cheat. Toji tilts his head to the side, stepping closer to the point where his chest had nearly hit Sukuna's.

"You up for another fuck?" large hands land on the other's waist, his thumb which had been painted pink by you rubbing circles into his skin.

"Although, you won't be the one doing the fucking." grin.

tags [ @cindol ] also, ty cinny for dealing with me while writing this stupid fucking novel. i added multiple tojikuna stuff for you too!! love u babezzz <3

do NOT repost or translate without my permission. this post belongs to @luvlyycy . plagiarism is illegal.

#sigh #enjoy this . idk how many words it is but its long.#ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #tojikuna #toji x sukuna #i kinda hate this but yk .#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

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Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

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"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

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"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

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Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

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"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

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"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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holycrimin · 4 months ago

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In honor of me getting my first ever TMNT Comic,

here's Leo with a crush who gets overly excited when gifted something they're obsessed/hyperfixated with (cough definitely not me cough)

while I did buy the comic for myself (it was an Eastman and Laird's TMNT adventure special) I wanted to explore this more because my brain is way too active and i need an outlet lol

pls dont blame me if its a little ooc, im trying my best and this is impulsive T0T

note: Reader uses they/them, Leo is a massive dork, semi proofread

2012!Leo x Expressive!Reader

Saw something he thought you'd like while on patrol,

"Hey guys, you think they'll like this?" He looks throught the window.

They snicker and shit on him (lovingly in a sibling way)

Whether it was a poster or figurine or comic, he's getting that baby just for you

Obviously he'd get it by paying because stealing would be wrong.

And by paying he means snatching it in the middle of the night and leaving a twenty with an apology note

Because that's what heroes do

anyway

Hops up to your apartment,

(with his brothers watching from the shadows because they absolutely cannot resist a good show. yes, even Donnie; like a true hypocrite)

He makes sure that neither your parents are there with you and he knocks on the window

You, with your ultra smart brain, immediately knew it was him because it was either that or a murderer that climbed up to specifically your window to murder you

which was unlikely, but hey, so was being friends with a giant turtle

You open your window and are immediately greeted with a shiny (not-so-brand new) comic/poster/figurine of the thing you talked about nonstop for weeks. maybe months. actually now that you think about it it mightve been year—

"Hey."

"Wh-"

"No way. NO WAY." You take it out of his hands (gently) and look at it in awe, before looking up at him with a dazzled expression

(If you squinted you could see sparkles coming off of you)

"What- Where- Dude. Where'd you even find this?!" A wide grin on your face as you look at him.

"Oh y'know.. Patrol and fighting bad guys, awesome stuff. Uh, then, y'know.. I found some merch that I thought you'd like."

"Dude he's seriously blowing this." one of the guys (mikey) whisper. "Yeah, he's worse than Donnie." he says, earning a 'Hey!' from Donnie.

Leo glares at them for a second before turning his attention back to you.

You let out a giddy giggle, "ahh! dude!"

"Dude." You set it down gently and put both of your hands on his shoulders. "I. Love you. So much. You know that?"

He blushes a little, "Well, I mean, it's not really a big de-"

"Not a big deal?! DUDDEE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Is this a marriage proposal?" You say, shaking him a little.

"Wh- um.. What?" Leo lets out a weak chuckle, he feels his face heating up. "Because I accept. Let's get married, I love you so much. Oh my god, you have no idea-"

Ohhh god.

Yeah, that does it.

Well, even more than it already has.

"Whahahaha... Okay, uh, You don't really mean that, do y-" Oh.

"..Oh, sorry, is that too far? I mean, I do it with my other friends, but I'm not sure- Leo?" Yeah, no this is going to kill him. Kinda pathetic, huh? That a kiss on the cheek could send him spiraling just like that.

"Ah.. hahahah! Okay cool, haha.. uh, bye! I'll ah.. see you tomorrow? yep. Yeah. Okay, bye!"

He runs off.

Aw crap.

Did you do something wrong? God, you hope not. Maybe you should tone it down next time.

"Smooth moves brother, really got them falling for you."

"Shut up."

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Total writing time: idk like 15-20 mins?

Any fellow fic writers feel free to take inspo or even write a direct sequel to this, I just really like this idea and would absolutely love to read more abt it lol

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #2012 leo x reader #leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2012 leo x reader #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #x reader #2012 leonardo #2012 leonardo x reader #leonardo hamato #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2012 leo

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hrtzstargirl · 21 days ago

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The look of love.

Danielle Marsh.

Sypnosis: Two girls couldn't help but look at each other the way couples do, Those loving gaze everytime they catch a glimpse of the other, even the smallest one. Might be too early for them to understand that they're in love.

Pairing: Danielle Marsh x F!reader

Flufffff

Warnings: Rlly bad writing idk, it's my first time posting a fic💀

The practice room was filled with the sound of chatter and music playing in the background, but the worst? The smell of sweat.

Danielle stood on the side with her back against the wall, clearly exhausted from 5 hour straight practice. Groaning as she slides down onto the floor.

A chuckle was heard on her left side, minji stood by her side holding a cup of water as her eyes roamed around the room, "That tired huh?"

Danielle hugged her knees to her chest with her forehead leaning against them. "I'm exhausted. I never knew the dance could be this tiring."

Minji hummed in response, eyes stuck on the four girls goofing around on the other side of the room. "Gosh, they never get tired huh? Well except haerin probably."

The four girls mentioned was still full of energy unlike those two on the side. Especially Hyein and Y/n, it's like they never run out of energy at all, always fully charged.

It's always like this honestly, whenever they got the chance to, even if it's a serious situation, they never fail to make it funny or even joke around.

Haerin joined them too sometimes but mostly it's the five of them, but now, the other two are low battery.

Danielle looked up the moment minji mentioned them, her eyes softening at the sight of Y/n smiling, laughing and goofing.

For her, it's something you need to see after a very tiring day, or even when stressed. In Danielle's eyes, the girl is the solution for everything.

Gosh, how can she stand there, and look so good despite the sweat on her skin, the hairs sticking on her forehead, the way her eyes almost disappear whenever she smiles, and her heavenly laugh.

No person should look this good after a long day, Danielle thought. Minji receiving no reply from the girl below, looked down and saw her looking at the girl on the other side with softness and love evident from her eyes.

A smirk formed on her face, "She'll melt if you continue staring at her like that."

Danielle broke her trance, glancing up at Minji for a second before shaking her head and returning her gaze where it was before being interrupted.

"I was not staring at her. I was looking at them, by them, meant all the four."

"Hah yeah, let's pretend I didn't catched you looking at her like she puts the stars in the sky."

"I was not!"

"Yes you were."

"Seriously unnie! I was not!"

"Gee, why so defensive? It's fine to stare at her, just not too long, she'll definitely melt if you do."

A groan was all she received as a response, giggling at the girl's reaction. Minji took a sip before saying, "You know, this isn't the first time you stared at her for more than ten minutes. Don't deny it, we've noticed."

Before Danielle even got the time to cut Minji off and defend herself, she realized, maybe she did stare too much.

"Is that bad?"

"Nope, not at all. The question is, why?"

Danielle's gaze fell on the floor, thinking, why? Why did she stare too much at the girl? Why didn't she knew that? What was the reason? Is she really that drawn to her?

Her thoughts were cut off when Minji spoke again, "You know, instead of staring at her like a love fool, you should think why exactly?"

Ohhh Minji definitely knows what's up, she knows what's going on, she'd seen the two of you stealing glances at each other when the other is not looking, staring as if they are the most precious thing in this world. Looking like absolute losers that's inlove.

Danielle wondered. "I'll... Think about it, now that you've mentioned it, it's definitely going to be on my mind for so long."

Both of them giggled, before looking back at the four who's getting ready to leave after wiping off their sweats and fixing themselves.

"Come on sunshine, time to go."

---

The four girls sat in the living room, watching and laughing. Minji, Danielle, Haerin and Hyein.

While the other two are in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Hanni was cutting vegetables, while Y/n was cooking.

Y/n couldn't help but glance at the girls, mostly at the girl. Danielle Marsh. Who's talking with Hyein about something while the movie continues, before getting shushed by Haerin who's listening at whatever the person is saying on the TV while Minji too focused to notice.

Danielle giggled quietly in response but Hyein just shrugged. Gosh that smile, makes the whole room lit up even with a small smile.

How can Danielle be so effortlessly beautiful? How can she sit there and look so good?

In Y/n's eyes, Danielle is the definition of perfection. She never Fails to amaze everyone, with her beauty and talent, she's soo good at everything, it makes even the most talented people want to cry, at least, that's what Y/n think.

Hanni not receiving a reply from the other after asking a question that fell on deaf ears, looked behind her and saw her groupmate staring lovingly at someone, and Hanni definitely knows who.

"Bro! Did you even heard me?"

Y/n flinched in response, tearing her gaze away from Danielle to Hanni with a confused look, "What?"

"I said how's food, is it getting cooked perfectly or burned? And clearly it is getting burnt." Nodding toward the pot on the stove, Y/n turned and scoffed, stirring soup.

"Can soup even get burnt?"

"Honestly dude, I don't know, maybe if you stopped staring at her for too long, I wouldn't have said that and make us both look like idiots."

Hanni put the chopped vegetables on the pot, taking the ladle from the other and stir. "I wasn't staring that long!"

"Uh huh, yes you were." Hanni took a sip from the ladle after blowing it, a hummed escaped her, motioning for the other to taste too.

"Why does everyone keep saying that? Even our fans." Y/n replied before taking a sip too, she nodded approvingly of the taste.

"That's because it's true, you look at her as if she's the best thing this world has ever had. Dude, ask the others, they know. You cant escape those sharp eyes of Haerin."

Hanni shook her head and turned off the stove, "Besides, it seems like you're in love."

"What? That's crazy, I'm not!" She replied unexpectedly loudly, catching the attention of Danielle who seems to be the only one who heard her.

Turning her head to look at the girl, she looked at the girl in confusion, while the other just smiled apologetically. Danielle returned the smile, but softer and sweeter before turning back her attention to the TV.

Hanni snickered causing the other to look attention her with furrowed eye brows.

"Ha! Sure, not in love aye? I guess, people around you tend to know it first before you even realize it."

Before Y/n even get the chance to respond, "You'll realize it one day, for now... Dinner time! Come on girls, let's eat!"

#newjeans #new jeans x reader #danielle marsh x reader #newjeans x reader #this is so fucking stupid #im dumb

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screaminglygay · 1 month ago

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KINKTOBER (day 2)

pairing: kate bishop x fem! reader - roleplay

summary: you and kate go to a halloween party, but your girlfreind might have taken her costume way to seriously

warning: teasing, bad flirting, overstimulation, oral (r!receiving), badly written smut, role play,

word count: 3.5k

an: heyyy! this one is a bit mess at the end, but i didnt want to let you guys without a fic, sooo i apologize in advance

You glance at Kate through the mirror, watching as she adjusts the collar of her suit jacket—she looks undeniably good. She’s wearing a dark, tailored suit with a red tie, Gomez Addams style, her hair slicked back in a way that makes her look effortlessly suave. Of course, she’s grinning at you, like she’s already plotting something mischievous.

“Looking good, Morticia,” Kate teases, her voice low and playful as she moves closer to you, her hand brushing your waist. She gives a slow, appreciative glance over your outfit, her eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. “You’re really pulling off the dark and mysterious vibe.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your cool despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Thanks, Gomez. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Kate steps closer, her hand not-so-subtly sliding around your waist as she pulls you towards her. Her lips curl into a smirk. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this party with you looking like that.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper, “You’re absolutely killing me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes you. “Kate, we’re supposed to be getting ready,” you say, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. But even as you speak, you’re leaning into her touch, letting her pull you closer. “Kate,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but there’s no denying the way your pulse quickens when she’s this close.

“We are getting ready,” Kate replies, her fingers trailing along the exposed skin of your waist where your dress rides up slightly. “I’m just getting into character. You know, Gomez´s always been obsessed with Morticia.”

You swallow hard, her teasing words making your heartbeat pick up. “I think Gomez might need to work on his timing.”

Kate chuckles, her voice dark and low as she steps closer, pressing herself against you from behind. “Or maybe Morticia needs to admit she likes it when Gomez´s a little… possessive.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the warmth of her body against yours sending a thrill through you. Her soft sweet lips on your neck. You catch her gaze in the mirror, and the playful glint in her eyes is anything but innocent.

“Kate,” you say, your voice shaky now, “we’ll be late.”

Her hands slide up your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress as she pulls you closer, her touch firm but teasing. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you when you look like this,” Kate mutters against your lips. “Like you’re ready to kill, and look good doing it."

“Kate…” you whine, your breath catching as her kisses become more insistent. “We’re really going to be late.”

Kate pulls back slightly, her eyes gleaming with that same mischievous energy. “Maybe,” she says, her voice low and full of promise. “Or maybe… we could be fashionably late.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words get caught in your throat as she dips her head, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear this time. It’s slow, intentional, and it sends a rush of warmth through your entire body.

You shiver under her touch, your hands instinctively moving to her chest, trying to push her away—but not really. She knows you’re not serious about stopping her, and you know it too. Still, you manage to find your voice.

“You’re relentless,” you say, finally pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. You try to steady your breathing, but it’s hard when she’s looking at you like that.

Kate chuckles, her fingers still tracing slow circles on your waist. “Only when it comes to you.”

The way she says it, so effortlessly charming, makes your heart flutter all over again. You narrow your eyes playfully at her. “Fine, two can play this game.”

You slip out of her grasp, taking a step back and giving her your best Morticia-like smirk, complete with a slow, deliberate turn as you adjust the hem of your dress. “Gomez Addams is supposed to be obsessed with Morticia,” you say, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you turn back to face her. “And I think you’re a little too calm for someone who’s ‘obsessed.’”

Kate’s grin widens, her eyes darkening with amusement. “Oh, I can be obsessed,” she says, her voice low and smooth as she takes a step toward you. “Just wait until we get to that party. I’m not going to take my eyes or my hands off of you.”

Your pulse quickens, but you manage to hold her gaze, not backing down. “We’ll see about that,” you tease, though your breath catches slightly at the way she’s looking at you, like she’s ready to tear your clothes down.

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “I’ll make sure you do.”

The way she says it, all confident and full of promise, sends a thrill through you. Oh how you can´t wait.

But as much as you’re enjoying this, you know you both need to finish getting ready. You let out a soft laugh, stepping back again and straightening your dress. “Okay, enough,” you say, though there’s no real firmness in your voice. “Let’s get going before we miss the party entirely.”

Kate chuckles, but she finally lets go, grabbing her jacket from the chair and slipping it on. “Fine,” she says, giving you one last playful grin. “But I’m not done with you yet, Morticia.”

You can’t help but smile as you both head for the door, knowing that tonight’s going to be full of playful teasing and flirting. And honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The engine hums softly beneath you as Kate’s car speeds down the darkened streets. The city’s Halloween decorations blur by in streaks of orange and purple, but you’re finding it hard to focus on anything outside the car. Mostly because Kate has barely taken her hand off your thigh since you left.

Her fingers, lightly tracing patterns on your leg. Every time she squeezes gently or shifts her grip, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting too obviously. It doesn’t help that every few minutes, she glances over at you, smirking like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Are you nervous, Morticia?” she teases, her voice a low murmur as her thumb strokes the skin just above the hem of your sleek black dress.

“Nervous? No,” you reply, though your voice is a little shakier than you’d like. “But if you keep this up, we’re definitely not making it to the party in one piece.”

Kate chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement as she looks back at the road. “I’m just driving. Innocently. Hands at ten and two.” Her fingers press into your thigh again, contradicting her words.

You narrow your eyes at her, though you’re trying to keep from smiling. “Innocent, huh? That’s the last word I’d use to describe you.”

Kate grins, her hand sliding just a little higher. “Maybe. But it’s Halloween, cara mia. We’re supposed to be a little wicked.”

This little shit. She knows what she´s doing.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though it quickly turns into a soft gasp as her hand tightens again, her grip firm but teasing. You squirm slightly in your seat, shooting her a glance. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re not telling me to stop.” You open your mouth to argue, but she’s right, and you both know it. Kate’s touch is intoxicating, and no matter how much she teases you, you’re always leaning into it. It’s a dangerous game, but it’s one you both love playing.

When you finally pull up to the party, the large building is already buzzing with life, lit up with eerie purple and green lights that give it an almost otherworldly glow. The lawn is filled with carved pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and more people in costumes.

Kate parks the car and turns to you with a sly smile. “Ready, Morticia?”

You adjust your long, flowing black dress, smirking back at her. “Always, Gomez.”

She chuckles and grabs your hand, pulling you out of the car as the two of you walk toward the entrance. Even before you step inside, all eyes seem to turn toward you both.

“Damn, you two look…,” a voice says, and you turn to see Yelena walking up with a grin on her face. She’s dressed as some kind of femme fatale assassin—very on-brand for her. “You really nailed the Addams Family aesthetic.”

“Thanks, Lena,” you reply with a smirk. “We figured we’d go for something a little more exiting this year.”

Yelena laughs, glancing between the two of you. “You did a good job at it.”

You nod with a smile as you walk further into the party. The large hall is packed with friends and some random people, all dressed up in an impressive array of costumes. You spot Natasha in a sleek black vampire ensemble, complete with blood-red lips and sharp fangs. Wanda, meanwhile, is floating around in a witch costume, her red eyeshadow giving her a haunting look.

As you make your way through the crowd, people can’t help but comment on your costumes.

“Morticia and Gomez, right?” Wanda says with a grin. “You two look hot—and kind of perfect together.”

Kate beams, slipping her arm around your waist. “Thanks, Wanda. We figured we’d lean into the whole ‘obsessed couple’ thing.”

You feel Kate’s hand resting on your hip, pulling you a little closer as she speaks, and you can’t help but blush. “Yeah, we’re definitely committed to the part,” you add with a laugh, though there’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you glance up at Kate.

“You’re not playing a part,” Natasha comments as she joins the conversation, her eyes sharp but playful. “I think you two are just obsessed with each other, and the costumes are an excuse.”

Kate grins, her hand squeezing your waist as she leans down, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “They have no idea, princess.”

You shoot her a look, but your heart is racing, and you can’t deny the rush of excitement that comes from the way she’s holding you, the way her lips brush against your ear as she talks. You’re both teasing each other endlessly, and it’s getting harder to keep your composure. The music pulses around you as the party grows livelier, but you and Kate are in your own little world. Every time someone compliments your costumes, Kate’s hand tightens around you, or she brushes a kiss against your cheek, whispering something in your ear that sends shivers down your spine.

“You two are really committed to the creepy couple vibe,” Val remarks as she passes by with a drink in hand. “I almost can’t tell if it’s just the costumes or if you’re always like this.” She teases.

Kate grins, her hand sliding up your back as she leans in closer. “Why not both?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against yours as the night goes on. People continue to compliment your look, calling you two the “perfect couple,” but all you can focus on is how Kate’s hand seems to be permanently glued to your waist, thigh, hip, her fingers teasing the edge of your dress every chance she gets.

As the music pumps through the room, and the lights flash in time with the bass, you find yourselves dancing together, completely absorbed in each other. Kate’s hands never leave your body, and every time you catch her eye, there’s that familiar spark, that tells you there is no other ending for tonight other than your clothes on the ground.

“You know,” Kate murmurs as she dips her head to kiss your neck, “I think we’re winning the contest.”

You shiver at her touch, feeling her lips graze your skin as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “There’s no contest.”

Kate laughs softly, her breath warm against your neck. "No there is not, but if it would be, we would be the winners, princess.” …

The drive home is filled with the same playful teasing that’s been bubbling between you all night. Kate’s hand, once again, finds its place on your thigh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over the fabric of your dress.

You catch her smirk as she glances over at you, her eyes dark with intent. “You know, cara mia,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with a mix of affection and desire, “I’m not sure I’m done being Gomez just yet.”

You raise an eyebrow, though the flutter in your chest betrays your excitement. “Oh? You’re still in character?”

Her hand squeezes your thigh as she pulls into your driveway, the car’s headlights casting long shadows against the house. “Oh, absolutely,” she replies, her voice lowering to that deep, intoxicating tone she’s been using all night. “And Morticia… I haven’t even shown you just how obsessed I am yet.”

The moment you’re both inside, Kate’s hands are all over you. She peels off her jacket with a smirk, tossing it aside as she steps closer, her eyes locked on yours. There’s something darker in her gaze now—something possessive and all-consuming, like she’s fully embracing the obsession that Gomez feels for Morticia, but in her own way. Her hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against her as she leans in to whisper against your lips, “You drive me insane, Y/N. I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t want to.”

Before you can respond, her lips are on yours, fierce and hungry. She devours you with a passion that leaves you breathless, her fingers digging into your hips as she presses you back against the nearest wall. It’s like every teasing touch, every heated glance from earlier, has been leading up to this moment, and now there’s no holding back.

“Kate…” you gasp, but she doesn’t give you a chance to say more. Her hands are already roaming, slipping under the fabric of your dress as she kisses her way down your neck.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” she growls against your skin. “How much I want you. How obsessed I am with you.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity radiating from her. It’s as if the line between costume and reality has blurred, and now all that matters is the way she’s holding you, touching you, worshipping every inch of you with reverence and desire.

“I’m going to show you,” she whispers, her voice thick with need. “How much you mean to me. How much I love you… how much I can’t get enough of you.”

And as her lips crash back onto yours, you realize that this isn’t just a game anymore. Kate’s obsession is real, and tonight, she’s determined to prove just how deep it runs.

Kate’s lips move with deliberate slowness, kissing her way from your mouth down to your neck, where she lingers, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You can feel her smile against you, that same obsessive, all-consuming energy radiating from her with every touch.

Suddenly your all naked in your bed, Kate on top of you. Her mouth moves lower, she takes her time, savoring each inch of your body. Her fingers brush softly along your sides as her lips trail kisses down your chest, her touch both tender and possessive, like she’s memorizing you. You shiver under her attention, your heart racing as you feel her shift lower.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Kate murmurs, her voice thick with emotion as she looks up at you, her eyes filled with love and something deeper—something that makes you feel like you’re the center of her universe. “I’m obsessed with everything about you.”

Her lips brush across your stomach now, slow and reverent, as though she’s worshipping you with each kiss. The feeling of her mouth on your skin is overwhelming, the way she’s taking her time, drawing out each moment, leaves you breathless.

You arch slightly into her touch, the warmth of her body pressing against yours, and you can feel the love and devotion in every caress. Kate looks up at you again, her eyes dark with intensity as she whispers, “I want you to feel everything… I want you to know just how much you mean to me.”

And then she’s kissing her way lower, her lips lingering on your skin with a mix of tenderness and desire, but there’s no rush. Everything about her movements is slow, deliberate, as if she’s savoring every moment, every reaction you give her. You can feel the love in every touch, the way she’s so completely focused on you.

Every touch, every kiss, leaves you trembling, your heart racing in your chest as you feel completely surrounded by her. Kate’s devotion, her obsession, it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, and you find yourself lost in the moment, completely consumed by the way she’s making you feel.

“I love you,” she whispers again and again, her voice soft but filled with intensity as her lips return to yours, sealing the moment with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a declaration. “I’ll always love you.”

That´s where her eyes turn to black, you can see her fall into the obsessive character fully. She smirks and with last kiss to your lips, she moves back down. Eating you out like the world is ending in a minute. She is always a goddess in the bed, but tonight? Oh how you wish to have Halloween every single day.

As you try to close your legs, she immedietly pins you back down, her strong arms holding you open, so she can work on her art. Devour you as much as she can. And she is doing amazing job at it. As always.

"Oh- Kate!" You moan louder than ever.

She nods, but she doesn´t pull away like the usual, she keeps going. Smirking as you realize what is her goal.

And before you can think you´re cumming, "fuck- Kate!" you try to wiggle out of her hold, but you know it´s lost fight. Kate is holding you very strongly and she is not pulling away. Bringing your second orgasm quicker than expected. "No- no- please- god!" There is no way her mouth is skilled like this-

And you came again. And again. And again.

Time has become a blur, the edges of the night slipping away as you lose track of everything except the way Kate makes you feel. You don’t know how many times she’s brought you to the brink, only to pull you back, leaving you breathless and trembling. All you know is the warmth of her skin, the gentle press of her hands, and the overwhelming love she pours into every touch.

Finally, when the world seems to slow down, you both collapse into the soft embrace of the bed, your bodies tangled together, completely spent. The only sound in the room is the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing, punctuated by the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift closer to each other.

Kate lies beside you, her arms wrapped around you protectively, pulling you against her chest. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, her touch soothing now, a stark contrast to the intensity from earlier. Her lips find your temple, pressing soft kisses there as you both bask in the afterglow of the night.

“I’ve lost count,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper in the dim light of the room. “How many times did you…?”

Kate chuckles, her breath warm against your skin as she kisses your cheek. “I stopped counting after the fifth,” she replies, her voice low and filled with affection. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”

You smile, turning your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, filled with that same obsessive devotion that’s been there all night, but now it’s gentle, almost tender. She leans in, brushing her lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

“I’m serious,” she whispers when she pulls back. “You’re everything to me. You’re my fuel, Y/N. You’re the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I push myself so hard. You keep me going, more than anything else.”

You close your eyes, sinking into her words, letting them wash over you like a warm embrace. Kate’s love, her devotion, it’s overwhelming, but in the best way possible. It fills every corner of your heart, leaving no room for doubt or uncertainty.

“I love you too, Katie,” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!!:)

#adele writes #kinktober2024 #marvel fanfiction #marvel universe #kate bishop #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop smut #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x female reader

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paigebueckersmommy · 5 months ago

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maybe not enemies pt.1 - p.b

paige bueckers x fem!roomate! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, drinking, mean paige kinda?, 1st person

a/n: i am well aware the team rooms togther but act like they don’t for this fic 🥰 also i hate this with every bone in my body.

you and paige had met briefly a few times. all you knew was you two weren’t into the same things.

it was the start of my senior year of college, and i had always taken my academics seriously, but i needed to take them more serious this year, and geting roomed with the schools biggest party animal, caused problems.

i began unpacking the suit case on my bed, waiting for my roomate to arrive. they sent an email with dorm assignments, which your roomate obviously hadn’t seen.

when i heard the door open, i snapped head. “fuck.” you heard a attractive voice say, which you didn’t wanna admit was attractive. “i’m not happy about this either.” you say making eye contact with the blonde.

“how’d you know?” paige says setting stuff down on her bed, “they sent an email.” i say looking back at my stuff.

“well, the best way to handle being roomed with the most boring person on earth, is if we agree to not talk unless it’s needed.” paige said, with an look of annoyance on her face. “agreeed, just please don’t be loud.” you say rolling your eyes, “k.”

time skip to a couple months later

you could tell paige was a little confused by your style when she mostly only ever saw you wearing hoodies, sweatpants and leggings, but tonight was diffrent.

you were standing infront of the mirror on a saturday night, putting lipgloss on. wearing a mini skirt and a mesh long sleeve, a black lacey bra underneath.

“where you going? shouldn’t you be studying or sum shit.” paige said looking you up and down from her bed. “why would it matter to you? but for your infortntion i’m going to a bar with my friends.” i say, looking back at her.

“oh my god!!! she has friends everyone!!” paige says acting suprised, not very good acting. “just because i care about my academics more than you doesn’t make me a nerd.”

“oh please, admit you’re just stating and don’t have any friends.” paige says cocking her head, when jsut then you heard a knock on your door. you opened it, your friends head peaking thru the door. “you almost rea- hey. wanna come?” your friend says, making eye contact with paige mid sentence.

“oh? inviting me? fuck it, yea lemme get dressed.”

you step out of your dorm room, shocked by the interaction. “damn. she barley talks to me i don’t know why she’d wanna come out with-“ you stopped mid sentence when paige walked out of your dorm. she was wearing white pants and a pink crop top, you had only ever seen her wear basketball gear so you were a little shocked at this.

“mm.. she knows how to dress everyone.” you say matching paige’s pace in the hallway as two of your friends were a little in front of you.

“oh i know your not talking. this is the 3rd time ive ever seen you not wear a hoodie. probobly why you don’t have a boyfriend yet.”

“b-boyfriend? i’m sorry, what makes you think i like men?” you say crooking your head words paige, curious. “o-oh i’m sorry, i just-“

“your good. i get a lot that i look straight.. but im lesbian.” you say with a soft smile making eye contact with paige, as you realize she’s also smiling.

“hm. good to know.” paige says, looking your outfit up and down, and that’s whe your mind began spinning.

did i like paige? was she trying to tell me something? were we, not enemies?

you put those thoughts to the side as you reached the doors of the bar. it was a saturday night, so it was crowded but not as crowded as it is on fridays. you, paige and your two friends found spots at the bar, paige sitting next to you as she ordered a round of shots for you two without even asking what you wanted.

“oh? thank you? your not being mean to me for once?” you say out of confusion before downing the shot. “mmm. you don’t look half as bad tonight.”

“could say the same about you.”

pt 2 soon!!!

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige buckets #kk arnold #nika muhl #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers headcannons #wlw #wlw fiction #ncaa women’s basketball

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jiminrings · 2 years ago

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pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i'm grateful for all ur love n support!! i'll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s a vocal person.

Your husband does not leave a single thought unspoken, sometimes his thinkpieces too impulsive that when he says them in public, you try to play it off by either distancing yourself with him or from him.

“I think the world would be just fine even if all the bees disappear,” Jungkook once said to you with conviction, midway into chewing his cheeseburger. “There’s articles about it proving otherwise but they’re too long for my attention span, but yeah, I don’t think it would be that bad, y’know?” he giggles, looking up at the ceiling in serious thought. “If anything, the Bee Movie taught us that-…”

Jungkook yelps automatically when you pinch his thigh, your hand sternly gripping his knee like both your reputations depended on it (they really did). “Jungkook, we’re literally in a climate change gala right now.”

“I don’t think coffee’s ever that serious. Seriously, world barista championships? New techniques in supposedly making the best cup of coffee when you’re all just gonna shit it ten minutes later? It’s not that deep,” Jungkook once whispered to you in urgency, his annoyance through the roof. He’s glued to your side, intent on whispering all about his irritation.

“Jungkook, I’m begging you,” you wince, screwing your eyes shut and slowly moving the two of you to the far end of the room. “We were literally right next to your uncle whose new wife is the organizer for that very championship you’re shitting on.”

“We need to talk about the tote bag epidemic,” Jungkook once whisper-yelled to you in a rush, holding you by the arm because he just can’t contain his inner thoughts any longer. You’re thankful, sure, that you’re your husband’s go-to person for all of his random thoughts; it’s just that he picks the worst settings to tell them to you.

“They look kinda tacky, everybody deludes themselves that they’re functional even if they have zero pockets, and-…”

“And you just offended atleast three different age groups and all of them are in this café. We need to leave.”

Jungkook’s endearing this way, raw and a tad bit annoying. He’s expressive as much as he’s vocal, his hand slotted on your waist like second nature to him. Being married to him isn’t bad. Sure, the circumstances of your union in the first place were for business anyway, but the both of you understood and agreed at the end of the day. By all means, he’s ideal — ideal until he opens his mouth when he’s sleeping.

If there’s anything that your two years of marriage (and counting) to Jungkook makes you realize, it’s that you should value your peace and sanity more than anything.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Jungkook groggily asks you with one eye open, conveniently seeing you in the act of hovering around him with an ominous object in your hand. Maybe it’s the sleep in his eyes or the fog in his brain, but when you look at him like this– bothered and passionately frustrated, it makes him love you even more.

“No,” you mutter, the snoring mouth strip in your hands just begging to be put on already. “I’m trying to make you quiet.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Perhaps it’s the sleep in your eyes or the fog in your brain, but you swear you just saw your husband crack a smirk despite keeping you up multiple nights a week, especially for the past month. He’s not endearing tonight, not at all.

“Isn’t marriage all about accepting each other’s flaws?” Jungkook frowns, about to turn on his side when you put your knee to block him.

“We’re arranged,” you deadpan. “I can’t accept you snoring with bass and reverb every night, Jungkook. I can barely sleep.”

“But didn’t you tell me you like it when I make noises?” Jungkook glares playfully. Bringing up your sex life with him out of the blue almost always does the trick, but it probably won’t work tonight now that you’re only awake and breathing heavily from sheer annoyance. “That you adore me whenever I tell you how much I love it?”

“Jungkook,” you hiss, tempted to flick him on the forehead in his sleep repeatedly so he’ll wake up with a mark. “Will you let me put the snoring strip on you or do we divorce?”

“Divorce,” he sighs out, a pinch instantly placed on his thigh that makes him jolt and squeak anyway. Jungkook whines, correcting himself when your hand hovers his chest this time. “Divorcing is bad!”

“Mhmm. Good night, Kook.”

You vibrate just by the prospect of sleeping peacefully tonight without the walls in the house being shaken up by your husband’s snores, tucking yourself in with an exhale that could last for minutes.

“Mmh-hmm!”

Jungkook could only pathetically whine through the mouth strip, resigning to his fate as he just spoons you from behind and huffs.

“What’s that? You want to wear snoring strips every night?” you chuckle, going to sleep with a smile. “What a nice husband.”

( ♡ )

Every now and then, you and Jungkook have to take a refresher course on each other’s businesses. The both of you know a lot already, constant conversations about which meetings happened where and reminders for events that the other will clear up their schedule for.

There’s already the concern and the general knowledge — it’s just all in the technicalities (even the simplest ones) that the two of you are lacking on.

“Is this a mock neck or a crewneck?” Jungkook holds up a shirt that’s yet to be released, eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to mess up. Come to think of it, you have to know now because his family’s holding company had acquired yet another brand and there’ll be a televised event for it — and some reporters ask the stupidest questions to date. You can’t be the weakest link.

“I wanna say neither,” you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip in confusion. It’s a shirt with a collar and that’s the only thing that matters. You know there’s a name for it and there’s a possibility that the choices Jungkook gave you were all bluffs.

Your answer definitely seems to pique both Jungkook’s interest and amusement, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s neither of the two. It’s uhm, in the middle?” you tilt your head, only praying that you could bullshit your explanation to your husband, the very person that created the garment. “It’s an all-new neckline created by Jeon Jungkook because that’s what his label is all about.”

Flattering, but really wrong.

“Cool,” he snickers, nodding to himself before he tosses it for you to catch. “It’s a crewneck though.”

“What? Then why did you make me elaborate?” you complain, scoffing to yourself because you know you should’ve went with that answer. Crewnecks should be easy enough to answer but for some reason (read: you stayed up last night watching new-money elitist reality shows instead of studying), you couldn’t answer.

“To see how good you can run away with your answer, duh.”

“And did I run away with it?”

“You ran away with it for like, four meters,” Jungkook commends you, the distance not all that bad in hindsight, atleast until he opens his mouth again. “There’s a hundred meters in total.”

Trivial things like quiz night on each other’s professions remind you that Jungkook’s nice to be with. Banter flows easily and he’s just so charming that so far, you haven’t deeply regretted a single day out of the two years you’ve been married.

You may not be able to name all the different fabrics, silhouettes, and techniques behind Jungkook’s very own streetwear brand, but you know that he likes being held when he’s asleep; that when he taps your thigh groggily after waking up in the middle of the night, it’s him very kindly asking you to rub circles on his back until he falls asleep.

“Okay, my turn!”

Your glass table almost shakes in excitement when you retrieve your sketches, making your husband all the more nervous because you look genuinely excited and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t have the room for error — your family’s jewelry brand turns 100 years old since the opening of its first shop and the event will be widely attended by everyone from all industries. Who’s to say that your eccentric grandfather won’t suddenly host a quizbee all about their craft?

You flash the paper quickly and your husband sighs in relief, grinning in confidence.

“Emerald cut, easy!”

The confidence is quickly washed out from Jungkook because you snort, putting the paper down.

“It’s an octagon cut.”

“No it’s not,” he immediately retorts in disbelief, squinting at the sketch you’ve set down already.

“I sketched these,” you narrow your eyes. You forgot just how quick Jungkook can keep himself in denial. “Emerald cuts have more depth to them."

He succumbs just as quickly as he turned stubborn though, rolling his eyes with the internal reminder to touch up on his jewelry knowledge because your event comes before his.

“Fine, sue me for thinking your drawings have depth and dynamic to them.”

“You’re buttering me up.”

“Is it working?” Jungkook blinks owlishly, proud of himself when he sees the corner of your lips twitching. He holds his arm out to sling across your waist out of instinct, pleased in pink when you lean into him.

“Barely.”

Jungkook frowns, nosing into your hair with a huff. “Look who’s talking. You made up an all-new neckline by yourself.”

“Shh,” you hum. “Let me get away with it.”

These moments of domesticity are what remind you that Jungkook’s never been less than ideal for you. That despite being in the same social circle as kids and only starting off as friends, you weren’t hesitant when both your grandparents suggested the idea of getting the two of you married.

In trivial and domestic moments like these, you think that you would’ve wanted to marry Jungkook even if you weren’t arranged.

“I let you get away with a lot of things,” he playfully huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder intentionally heavy to get you to cave deeper into his embrace.

“Because I barely wrong you!” you reason, rolling your eyes because you know for a fact that although you’re not a perfect wife, you’re beyond ideal.

“I know,” Jungkook rolls his eyes this time, the truth undeniable. You’re right; you’re so perfect for him that sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “How about me? Will you let me get away with a lot of things?”

“I already have,” you sing-song, narrowing your eyes playfully as if in deep warning. “But I won’t always do.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook first realized that you loved him when he missed a single step on the staircase and tumbled a whole flight.

It was 3 AM then, the reason behind his sudden trip downstairs being the fever you developed overnight when you had just gotten home from a ski trip. He had put a wet towel in the freezer in the afternoon and he was supposed to put it on you before you went to sleep. Jungkook must’ve beat himself up for forgetting because he wakes up with a cold sweat, determined to put that frozen towel on you like his life depended on it.

Jungkook thought he was doing well by the way he could navigate clearly even with the sleep in his system, eyes still half-lidded and brain still half-working that he decides to rip out the largest yawn to man mid-step on the staircase — before he knows it, he’s woken up immediately to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook!” you yelled to him then in a panic, eyes wide and frantic to see him at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile. Jungkook knew then that seeing you with a head-splitting migraine visible on your pale lips and fatigued eyes, scooping him up on your arms with nothing but scolding and fussing on rotation — he knew that you loved him more than you let on.

You know Jungkook loves you. So when the bed dips and your arms grow cold despite swearing up and down that the both of you have a free day today, you doubt for a second.

“What are you doing up so early?” you mutter, stifling a yawn to see Jungkook up without a complaint.

“Breakfast with my parents. My crazy aunt suddenly came over and they need backup,” Jungkook answers with a pained laugh, cussing himself for being such a filial son. “Don’t worry, I know you hate her plus you were up all night yesterday so I just told them you can’t come because you’re under the weather.”

You’re put at ease to hear him, sighing a breath of relief — good, Jungkook still loves you and doesn’t plan to leave you. It’s just an inkling you’ve had the last few weeks, the daunting realization that in a couple months’ time, it’ll be three years of marriage with him.

It’s the impulsive, less rational part of your brain that thinks Jungkook’s growing bored of you, confused of how he’s been perfectly content being your husband for almost three whole years.

You go with Jungkook all the way through downstairs, your playful teasing towards him about never yawning again on the steps giving him more amusement (and embarrassment) than necessary.

“Kook?” you question with a furrow in your brow, pointing at the dish that’s occupied still. “You forgot the car keys.”

“Oh. I’m not taking the car,” he smiles, shrugging to emphasize the jacket that he intentionally wore. You missed the detail somehow, the surprise in your voice more evident.

“You’re taking your motorbike?”

“Mhmm!” Jungkook hums pleasantly, the background music in his brain going from calm elevator music to rising bass rift. He’s just about to bid you goodbye with a kiss after he wears his gloves but he’s stopped even before he could come near. You’ve already read his mind.

Your husband knows it when you put your arms across your chest, nodding towards the cabinet with a tone that leaves no room for counterarguments.

“Go wear your full gear.”

“But the breakfast place isn’t even that far,” Jungkook whines, head tilting back. His gear was literally hot, protecting him from sunlight yet physically making him boil inside.

“I want you in one piece.”

“You want me?” Jungkook cheekily grins, eyebrows wagging incessantly with his arms outstretched. That’s it! If he could just act cuter and be a little more-

“Go wear your gear.”

“I look goofy,” he mutters, eyes downcast. The longer he goes without blinking, the faster he knows that he’s going to stick to your words.

“You look safe,” you smile in success when you put his helmet on, securing it extra tightly that draws a whine from him.

Jungkook frowns but he knows that you’re right as always, a relieved sigh coursing throughout his whole body because who knew where he’d end up without you.

“Ride safe, Jungkook. I mean it. Don’t pull any tricks,” you glare pointedly at him, recounting all of the near misses he had from wanting to be adventurous, be it a trip downstairs to the refrigerator or in the middle of a main thoroughfare.

“I promise not to pull a wheelie on the highway, yes,” Jungkook mockingly salutes you, drawing out a faux disappointed sigh from you.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Was he really? Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, smacking his lips when he seems to get the gist of it. He walks towards you, puckering his lips to the max because he doesn’t want to headbutt you with a solid helmet for just a smooch, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You appreciate it, but Jungkook’s not quite right.

“No, not that.”

“What?” he seems taken aback, suddenly realizing. “Oh!” he giggles, raising up his right hand in a pledge. “I promise to text you when I get there.”

“Good.”

You have to put more strength to drag Jungkook by the helmet, angling your head to the side to kiss so he doesn’t knock you in the forehead with the extremely safe (and extremely bulky) helmet you got him.

Jungkook smiles in contentment, clearing his throat as he revs his engine. It’s all good then. He had become worried in silence because your three years of marriage were approaching and got scared because what if you grew bored of him already?

Jungkook worries that he’ll mess things up with you one day, but with the way he can see you waving at him frantically on his side mirror when he just left, it’s okay.

He knows you still love him.

( ♡ )

Hoseok’s your most talented and trusted metalsmith.

His work ethic’s unparalleled, your vision only coming into fruition through his support and skill. He’s indispensable to you, your place in the direction of your family’s business cemented by Hoseok’s aid.

Hoseok as both an artist and your employee is different from Hoseok as your friend. Both are cunning but the latter is more ruthless, the lines being blurred every now and then. He loves his job, don’t get him twisted at all — in fact, he trusts you as a boss and the company beyond comprehension that he doesn’t bear any tact for anyone who threatens either.

Not even for Jungkook.

“A collab, huh?” Hoseok squints, looking through the portfolio you’ve handed him. There’s already projected numbers that your analysts have predicted for you but he pays the papers no mind. He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “A streetwear brand wants a limited-edition collection with us?”

Jungkook clears his throat, timidly raising his hand. He’s always known that Hoseok’s standoffish to literally everyone except you, but what he can’t take is being talked about like he isn’t in the same room.

“Uhm, I’m Y/N’s husband.”

“Well you’re the owner of that streetwear brand, aren’t you?” Hoseok raises a brow at him, tilting his head. He looks drastically bored, his tongue poking his cheek.

Jungkook blinks, not exactly knowing where this was going but he doesn’t like it one bit. “Yes, but I’m also her husband.”

“Okay?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes already exhausted from the conversation. You know that look on him, the one that tells you he’s bored to death and is itching to shut up the nearest person to him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jungkook rarely gets flustered by anyone else besides you and this time, it’s the bad kind. The embarrassment he gets from just conversing with Hoseok makes him feel like he’s an inconvenience, unease settling into his stomach. Jungkook wishes he couldn’t be so perceptive to know that despite Hoseok’s eyes normally being unreadable, his gaze now on his sketches can be read as underwhelmed.

“Well I-I mean, I’m hearing a lot of us and it sounds like you and Y/N, not me and Y/N,” he licks his lips, recognizing the insecurity that sticks to his tone like honey. Not only does he feel insulted as an artist, he also feels insufficient as a husband.

“That is what I’m saying though,” Hoseok trails off, hand vaguely gesturing for Jungkook to fill in the rest of the blanks. When he doesn’t, Hoseok does it for him. “It’s me and Y/N seeing this brand through. Not you and her.”

Jungkook blinks once, twice.

Hoseok isn’t wrong. No matter how much pain it brings Jungkook to admit it, Hoseok isn’t wrong. Your marriage may be for you and him alone, but your company– your artistry is only yours as much as it’s Hoseok’s. He has no place here and he feels it, his initial confidence that the collaboration he proposed was going to pass already dwindling by the millisecond.

“Hoseok’s right,” you cough, breaking their conversation. The tension was already too thick and you’ve barely made it halfway to looking at the entirety of the portfolio. “Reel it in, Jungkook.”

He’s jealous. He’s jealous and he forgot just how pathetic and insufficient one could feel when the green monster of heartburn decides to make an appearance. Jungkook just about doubts everything, from thinking of how your admiration for Hoseok is probably much higher than the admiration you have for him, to thinking if you even benefit from being arranged to him.

Hoseok looks over the designs, noting all the details silently.

“Huh. I see,” he hums, clearing his throat to try and keep all the crass words he has in mind to himself because you’re looking at him intently. “Skulls. Haven’t seen this one before.”

“You sketched this?” Hoseok nods every now and then, holding up the paper that had deep indents of the pencil on the paper to the point that it defeats the concept of a sketch. Your husband nods, and he wishes he hadn’t because Hoseok comments not a second later. “Figures.”

He hums, silently approving here and there of some concepts he could totally get behind. It’s not all rubbish content, but he can’t say that salvageable automatically equates to commendable.

“So? What do you think, Hobi?” you ask when the silence has gone long enough, having noticed that Jungkook already grew too quiet in your corner.

Hoseok calculates in his brain, looking from the portfolio and back to you. He tries not to clench his jaw for the sake of you silently pleading him to mince his words and actions, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s doable,” he nods, making Jungkook smile despite his ego being a little wounded. He’s bounced back miraculously, profusely thanking Hoseok with an unexplained eagerness to him. Before Jungkook could launch himself to further possibilities though, Hoseok calls for you.

“Y/N? A word, please?”

Jungkook looks back from the door, hesitant doe eyes flitting between the two of you. You don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind but you know better than to project, bidding him goodbye for the timebeing. “It’ll be quick.”

The most commendable trait you can attribute to Hoseok besides being your friend is his passion for your craft. He’s vision-oriented in the sense that he cuts straight to the chase before he could even lose the trail that the sudden burst of fervor leaves him.

“Meridian’s your baby. It’s your grandmother’s grandmother’s baby. It’s coveted. It has meaning,” Hoseok rambles, the sigh leaving him more concerned than it was relieved at being let out. He can’t mince his words now — he can’t put it in any other way besides the truth. “Collaborating with Jungkook cheapens it.”

“Hoseok.”

Your tone edges on a bite, clenching your jaw as you try to take everything in. Hoseok’s been your voice of reason for so long but you don’t know how to accept that voice now, the tinge of guilt slowly staining you because the back of your mind tells you that he isn’t wrong.

Jungkook’s streetwear brand is huge; whether or not you chalk it up to his name being linked to his family’s holding company that’s responsible for other designer brands, your husband’s brand specifically remains larger than life. It’s not a flawless brand, that much you’re sure of, but it’s still of great value.

Just perhaps not of the same degree that Hoseok holds your company to.

“It’s not all bad, but most of his work is dispassionate. It’s typical. Meridian would look cheap if you commit to this fever dream collaboration.”

There’s a rash on your neck, one that’s warm and speaks to your ear of how shitty it must feel to even agree partially to what Hoseok’s saying. Your duties as an artist in the business rarely clash with your courtesies as Jungkook’s wife — today just happens to be one of those days.

“It’s Jungkook’s idea, okay?” you relent, voice low as if in defeat of admission. You don’t mean to belittle him, you just happen to know and listen to reason. “It’s not the best, I know, but it’s honest work. Let’s give him a chance.”

“You’re giving him a chance because he’s your husband, not because you see any potential.”

Hoseok says it without uttering nor a single sense of doubt. He sounds so definite that you don’t even know if he’s still insulting Jungkook or if he’s insulting you at this point, swallowing your words.

There’s truth to your craft but you know there’s an even bigger truth to the unspoken protectiveness you have over Jungkook, the answer sounding seemingly shallow but that’s what it really is — love makes you shallow as much as it makes you deep.

“You’ll know when you’re married.”

“Arranged would be the term for you and Jungkook. Not married,” Hoseok quips. “You’re only holding back your critique. We both know it’s a dead end when it comes to creative direction.”

The both of you leave it at that, the decision being unanimous to collaborate with Jungkook despite your metalsmith’s hesitance. What you say goes, that’s just how hierarchy works.

Unbeknownst to you and Hoseok though, Jungkook’s been listening the whole time — that’s just how love operates sometimes; hidden and relinquished.

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s hurt.

How crude of Hoseok to think of him that way. How worse of you to agree even.

Jungkook’s irrational when he’s hurt, refusing to see reason. He knows at the back of his head that he’s hit a rut and pitching in a collaboration with your brand is his last-ditch attempt in sparking something. Cheap was a word for tackiness and to have your friend use it on him brings him to a new low.

It’s just jewelry. What you make is just jewelry. Just pieces of metal bended and soldered together with shiny gems that don’t possess any real meaning to them besides superficial.

It’s not that deep.

Not that deep to the point that when Hyejoo, his childhood friend turned actress turned fleeting appearance in his life every now and then (whom you hate for some reason), asks him for a favor — Jungkook barely hesitates.

Hyejoo stands before him in a shirt from his brand’s limited collection, one out of the only hundred ever made. If Jungkook recalls correctly, he didn’t even send any items from the limited collection to any of his friends; he left everyone besides you to go fend for themselves.

Perhaps his childhood friend’s truly a fan of his craft, knowing her for her utmost support towards all his releases. To be honest, the two of them aren’t even that close anymore to the point that they’re each other’s first friend to think of in dire circumstances, except now — now when she needs him for a favor.

“But I need a pink ring for the event, Jungkook!” Hyejoo whines, throwing her head back for dramatic effect. Truth be told, she knew no brand that had pink jewelry that was elegant enough for her taste except yours. She’s turned down sponsorships all for a ring you probably keep in your sock drawer. “Yes I can buy from other brands but you’re there, Kook. You’re available and I can borrow from you because your wife has a shit ton.”

Jungkook knows what Hyejoo’s talking about. It’s the one pink ring that you wore on your engagement party with him and it’s become the talk of everyone from how ethereal you looked, the one tiny piece of jewelry tying it all together.

He knows it’s pink and he knows it’s just hidden away in its jewelry box, one that you keep right next to his collection of watches. There was no fancy vault for it either, just tucked next to his timepieces as if they were of the same value.

“Come on, she won’t even notice,” Hyejoo urges him, making him inwardly cringe. She turned up on his front door unannounced asking for a favor and he feels indebted her for the last time she granted him one, the apartment complex that Hyejoo owned becoming the perfect backdrop to his collection that’s still renowned to this day.

Jungkook’s loyal, he knows he is. His loyalties lie with you and he still honors his debt — whether or not you’re caught in the middle. It’s true that you won’t even notice, you don’t even peek at it anyway! For someone who’s a part of a family of jewelers, you rarely accessorize yourself gaudily.

“Fine. I’ll let you borrow,” Jungkook mutters, finally relenting to Hyejoo’s requests. He opens the door wider, on the way to your shared bedroom but looks back hastily at Hyejoo to point a stern finger. “But give it back, okay?”

It takes a great amount of strength for Jungkook to even hand the ring to Hyejoo, not even including the box with her because a) you would know that it was missing, and b) he wants her to wear it at all times until she gives it back the next day. Jungkook takes it personally to flick her wrist to serve as a reminder that he had given it to her already, even going so far to take a picture of the two of them and make her sign on his notes app.

He’s not necessarily betraying you — or so he thinks. It was just jewelry that you wouldn’t miss, same as the shirts that he gives away to his friends. Their retail prices may be lightyears away but you would understand; you always do.

Jungkook gaslights himself into thinking that he did no wrong but the guilt is what slowly gnaws on him, the tips of his fingers going numb every time he looks at you.

Come to think of it, his decision to lend your ring to Hyejoo was out of sheer pettiness even without the assurance that you’ll take notice of it. His hurt over Hoseok’s comment disappeared the moment he handed her your ring, but to his surprise, it’s anxiousness that replaces his irritation.

He kisses you good night still as if today didn’t happen; how his irrationality had gotten the best of him when he got hurt by Hoseok’s remarks over his passion and creativity, and just a few hours later, it’s his impulsiveness and misplaced urge for vindication that lent your unsuspecting ring to his childhood friend.

“Jungkook!” you yell out in panic, urging him awake instantly that his heart beats incessantly despite being pulled out of sleep. You look frantic, the rawness in your eyes not from your lack of sleep, but instead from tears. “Call 911. The Interpol! The CIA! The fucking Blue House!”

“What?! What happened?!”

He’s panicked just as you are, hands shakily clutching his phone. He looks you up and down and inspects you for injuries to which there are none, nothing but overwhelm making your body shake.

Jungkook can’t bear to see you so glum and helpless, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him feeling nothing but pathetic.

“My ring,” you whisper brokenly, the phantom feeling of wearing it making you sob even more. “My ring is gone.”

Jungkook’s mouth dries, the panic in his own body turning against himself, his remorse growing into something larger than life. He could physically see the confusion on your face on the way he paled, his phone dropping out of his hold.

Your husband’s hands reach for you but you don’t take them, recoiling even before he could open his mouth. Jungkook was readable — too readable to the point that you wish he had lied to your face instead.

“I-I can explain.”

Jungkook weakens by the knees when the words drape from the tip of his tongue, your chest sucking in an inhale so sharp that he gets weakened by the force of it. “I lent it to Hyejoo.”

You’re quiet, the type of rage in you simmering ever so slowly that it builds to an immense heat. You don’t know if you can ever muster to look at Jungkook in the eye, your middle finger that knows the grooves of your ring twitching in muscle memory.

“You what?” you croak, tilting your head. You know what you’ve heard but you just wish you’re mistaken this time, cursing your own accuracy. “Who told you that you could do that?”

Jungkook’s cornered in his mind and he spews the first thing in his mind, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Yours is mine and mine is-…”

“That doesn’t apply here! You’re so fucking-…” you just about burst in the seams, clenching your jaw so hard to the point that you give yourself a headache. You’re resolute this way, the pitiful look on your husband’s face not getting a single drop of remorse from you. “Get it back.”

You wouldn’t have lent it to anyone regardless if Jungkook asked you, but you would have considered at the very least. For him to take something so special to you and loan it to someone you’re not even fond of ticks a wire in your brain, your anger coming before the sadness fully hits.

“Y/N!” he hisses, angry at both the situation and himself but he now thinks of the courtesy that he didn’t possess when Hyejoo borrowed your ring. “I can’t turn back on my word.”

“What? Your word that favors Hyejoo and shits on mine?” you scoff in disbelief, laughing at the mockery Jungkook makes of you. It’s insulting and saddening and you can’t even begin to think of the extensive cleaning and safekeeping you’ll have to do once you get your ring back. “I said, get it back. You’re my husband and you’re just her friend, you have all the means to take my ring back.”

Jungkook turns somber, a stark contrast to your anger. He pleads with you, finally closing the gap between you to which you roll your eyes.

“The event is tonight. She’ll return it tomorrow. Please, it’ll be embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?” you ask but the rage in your voice is already simmering, the daunting thoughts of how Jungkook thinks of his friend’s sake and himself first than his wife making you clench your fists around nothing.

“Y/N, please.”

His incessant begging does little to influence your decision because you’ve already changed your mind, the rage that dipped in you and the fact that your heart’s already aching despite having just woken up converting you instead.

“Tomorrow morning. I want it back in the case before I wake up.”

The two of you sleep apart for the night and Jungkook can’t even bring himself to contest it knowing that he doesn’t deserve to hold you. He simmers in self-loathing, unable to sleep the night when his phone dings from the notifications it has of your name.

Hyejoo’s look on the carpet trends the whole night, the main focus of everyone being the pink ring that adorns her ring finger. There’s threads of speculations how you and her are either best friends or how she must’ve bought it from you. If only he could, Jungkook would reply to each comment saying that Hyejoo doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance and how the ring has always been yours — that it’s his fault that his friend’s even wearing the same piece.

He’s restless and he can’t even begin to think how much more tired you feel. Of your name being brought up and of him royally fucking up.

When Jungkook thinks it couldn’t be worse, karma one-ups him from the very mistake he committed when he entertained Hyejoo’s favor in his mind.

“You’re stupid,” you spit to Hyejoo who stands on your porch, head downturned in shame. She had half the decency to face you personally but lacks the rest to honor her end of the bargain; she lacks the intellect to respect you.

She lost the ring. She lost the pink ring you’ve treasured and cared for since you were a teenager, losing it after a careless and drunk decision of skinny dipping. You feel like you’ve been made a fool not only by your husband, but also by his friend that you don’t care for at all.

The tears fall out of your eyes in anger, each one being in a rush to exit because you’re full of resentment at this point.

“You’re a brainless, stupid, careless fucking idiot. I don’t want to see you in my household again,” you point at her, making her step back.

“This is Jungkook’s-…” she squeaks, just about to correct you when you point at her even more menacingly. You’re not even joking around as it seems like, eyes angry to the point that they lack of love, even for Jungkook who tries to hold you back.

“I’ll get a restraining order on you.”

Hyejoo scurries out all with the promise to reimburse you (as if she has the money to do so) that falls on deaf ears, your hand slamming the door too hard that your husband swears the walls shook with your force.

You look unrecognizable with the sheer disappointment you have for him, your anger dripping off of you thickly that he’s rendered speechless.

“You,” you seethe. “I fucking hate you.”

You never told him that before.

You’ve gotten mad at him on several occasions but never to this degree where you tell him that you loathe him. This is the furthest that you’ve took it, the honesty behind your words making his bottom lip tremble.

Jungkook’s eyes have been perpetually moist since last night but it’s only now that his eyes sting with white hot sadness. You’re only reacting out of your state of overwhelm; you must be, right?

“I hate you so, so much, Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I really mean that,” you scoff to his face, shaking your head in absoluteness. “What would you do if I sold your car, huh?”

Jungkook wants to apologize to you so bad but he doesn’t have the right words to give you the proper one that you deserve. He gives you an answer off the top of his head, the disappointment for himself growing if he does otherwise.

“It’s just a car.”

“Well this is just not a fucking ring to me! It’s not simple like that!” you burst, your movements jerky.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he whispers, wanting to tug at his hair for being so stupid. He should’ve considered the possibility that Hyejoo has a knack for being careless; he failed to account that he went behind your back to lend your ring to someone else in the first place.

“I can buy my own rings!” you exclaim. “What you don’t get is that this means the world to me! If your uncle gave you a car, and I gave it to someone else and now it’s on the bottom of the ocean, what would you feel?”

“It’s just a car from my uncle. I can replace it. I can buy a better one.”

Jungkook knows he’s just making excuses. He’s just being defensive now that he’s cornered and has no excuse for behaving so poorly. He can’t escape the anger and the disappoint he’s flooded with, not when you cry out of sheer distress.

“Not if my aunt isn’t here! Not if this ring is one of the only things I have of her!”

Sure, your aunt was dodgy. She’s the black sheep of your family and had done more than a lot of questionable things, but she cared for you. She had given you her own ring when you were twelve and whilst it was too big for you to wear, she gave you a chain for you to wear it around your neck.

The ring is something you can easily replicate but the thought behind it is what you can’t take back. It’s not the only piece of her that you have but it’s one of the earliest things you obtained; one of the most notable pieces out of the bunch.

“You don’t think. You don’t care. You don’t love.”

For Jungkook to carelessly seize it from you and loan it to someone else grips your heart like a vice. You’re gonna dwell on it for more than a couple of days and realize that you have more sentimental and elegant things you have of your aunt eventually — but what matters to you is how you feel now. How Jungkook had disappointed you so bad, you feel like throwing up.

“I want to divorce you,” you seethe, meaning your words at the heat of the moment. Jungkook stands frozen, hearing his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “I can find a new husband. What I can’t find — what neither you nor Hyejoo can’t find is my ring.”

( ♡ )

You do it while he’s sleeping.

You take advantage of Jungkook’s fatigue and disorientation from crying his eyes out, passed out in the couch while he hugs himself with his arms to try and replicate your embrace. It’s already morning and it only looks like he slept just minutes ago, positively dozed off.

You take much care in slipping of the platinum wedding ring from his finger, joining your discarded one in your palm. There’s only carelessness when you scoop them into a tiny drawstring bag, taking it to Hoseok and doing a regular work day as if your head hadn’t pounded with hurt just last night.

It’s only convenient for the both of you; Jungkook’s decision slingshots back to him, and your client would be happy. Hoseok texted you last night asking if he should grant the request of a high-profile client with a titanium pendant, and it just so happens that you have two chunks of it that you no longer need. It could be melted and repurposed — after all, it’s just jewelry according to Jungkook.

The guilt of your impulsiveness doesn’t hit you instantly, it only comes with confusion when you see your husband in shambles.

When you come home, the whole house is upturned. Jungkook’s frantic, waking up to a hand that bears no wedding ring; no proof of you. His eyes glaze with relief briefly when he sees you, urging you to take in the situation fully.

“The police. The CIA! Interpol! MI6 — or is it MI7? Fuck, Mr. Bean’s movie was too good! Get the Blue House on the line!” he blubbers, looking back and forth the cushions of the couch and his hand. “My wedding ring!”

It’s perhaps a ballsy move made on your part, but you can’t guilt yourself into bearing the blame. You made your wedding rings and it only makes sense for you to get rid of them. The bands are symbolic, made and upheld with love for the last two years but in your haste of upset, you’ve given them away.

You perhaps regret it slightly, the fog in your brain lifting but only faintly. You’re still mad and disappointed at Jungkook, and perhaps you don’t mean the bit of divorcing him, but you do mean wholeheartedly the sentimentality you have behind all your jewelry.

The platinum in your ring finger just felt too heavy last night that you grew weary of it, not thinking twice when you removed yours and Jungkook’s. Even if the two of you make up and you don’t end up divorcing Jungkook, you wouldn’t want to wear the same ring that brought you the same pain during its stint.

“I sold them,” you answer, turning your back on him before you could see the anguish in his face. “We have no need for them.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s making you a rice bowl as an apology.

Buttered fried rice, egg, bacon, and all with a generous amount of cheese. It’s his hangover food when he needs something greasy and filling but the only difference from his past hangovers and your anger at him is the latter barely feels like it could be rectified.

He says his apologies again through the door and he’ll happily repeat it to your face if you stand longer in front of him for more than a minute, his panic even larger than the oil splashes he’s gotten from making your bacon eagerly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was stupid of me to lend your ring to Hyejoo behind your back and I swear I won’t do it again. I know that ring meant a lot to you and I-I was so pathetic by invalidating that,” he mutters through the door, looking at the frying pan every now and then to make sure he wasn’t burning anything. “I have every intention of finding your ring and making it up to you, cross my heart!”

It feels insulting, even. For him to think that he could change the ache of your heart with a simple hot meal. Jungkook realizes that he really is dense when you don’t answer the door for the twenty minutes that he knocks. When you do open up, he feels even more dumb.

Just twenty minutes ago, he wired you twice the amount of the worth you estimated your aunt’s ring to be. Combined with the pitiful amount Hyejoo wires you, it’s then do you realize that you’re not fazed by money. The initiative is there, sure, but the ache in your heart hasn’t subsided completely.

You do miss Jungkook. It does tug at your heartstrings to see and hear him beat himself up over and over again the more you realize that you’re attached to your aunt’s memories rather than the ring itself, but just two nights away from each other won’t absolve everything he’s done and failed to do.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of your husband who tries far too hard for his own good. Melancholy isn’t a good look on him because he looks the most unkempt he’s ever appeared in two days than the two years you’ve been living with him under the same roof.

Jungkook waits for you to register his attempt, holding up a hot bowl with his bare hands that you resist the urge to take it from him for a second. His ring finger’s occupied by a cheap mood ring, rapidly turning red at the moment from the heat of the bowl.

You look down fully expecting to be swayed even just a little bit, but when you do, you feel the kick to just slam the door right back.

“I hate runny eggs,” you scowl. “Two years married and you don’t even know how I like my eggs cooked.”

Jungkook wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He wishes that if it was true that chickens are the last true descendants of dinosaurs, there’d be a chicken the same size as them that pecks him into oblivion.

He hurriedly turns on the stove and scoops up the egg back into it, careful not to have any of the runny folk get on your meal. He itches in frustration, his ring finger that’s temporarily adorned with a cheap and clunky mood ring being accurate by turning blue in sadness.

Jungkook’s so out of it, so disappointed in himself that he doesn’t notice he cooks the egg until it’s burnt, the char of it reflecting how poorly he thinks of himself now.

It’s like when you were disappointed in him that time when his outlandish aunt made a rude comment about you and you were speechless the whole night that he stayed silent. He remedied it by later groveling at your feet and marching to his aunt and laying out all of his intentions for her to grow up and apologize to you, the same aunt that’s now blacklisted from all the gatherings.

It’s like when you were upset at him when he left abruptly in the morning and didn’t tell you where he was going because he didn’t know if you would care, partying it up in a different country for his friend’s bachelor’s party and coming home a day later with you hot on his heels. Jungkook made it up to you by once again apologizing profusely and updating you on his whereabouts since then (sometimes he gives too much information), always making it a point to bring two powerbanks with him so he can text you when he’s left and arrived.

This time though, he doesn’t know how exactly to make it up to you. He’s been in contact with professional divers to try and look for the ring for you, but he can’t be of much help until he comes along to know for sure. He’s thinking of all these different ways and approaches but he’s unsure if any of them are sufficient enough to rectify his mistake.

Jungkook feels pathetic because he swears he loves you and knows everything about you, but here he is — crying about how he doesn’t even know how you like your eggs cooked.

You’re upset at him, and he can’t do anything right for you.

( ♡ )

Jungkook tries again at dinner.

It’s the day of Meridian’s 100th anniversary and the two of you play it up for the cameras, your husband’s attention on you so keen and affectionate that you almost forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

He takes advantage of the cameras during the carpet session, tugging you close with his hand on your waist as he seizes the chance to hug you tightly at the end when you enter the hall with no cameras in place. He breathes you in as he always does, hesitant to let you go and exhale because you’re the very scent and existence of love.

Jungkook studied, of course he did. He’s touched up on his jewelry knowledge because he’s more than desperate now to seek your validation, nervously smiling all around as he waits for people to stop approaching you in your table.

His attention’s fixed on your necklace, the stone on it similar to the very ring he lent and lost. He’s brought it up about five times already, animatedly reciting trivia about it as if you’re not the literal face of the jewelry industry. He clears his throat, leaning in for you to whisper intimately, but just loud enough for the other people to hear a tad.

“Ah, that pink sapphire looks so good on you, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter sharply, making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. You melted against him when he was hugging you, that much he was sure of. He doesn’t know why you’ve become harsh again all of a sudden, forgetting that his lapse this time was opening his mouth. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” his brows furrow, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Pink?” he guesses, eyes wavering as he tests the waters. “Pink sapphire?”

It takes a lot in you not to make an outburst. Truth be told, you’ve started easing up on Jungkook but his attempts at trying hard is just too much and in the wrong direction, hearing pink sapphire over and over again reminding you of the ring you lost.

“Yes, that! Stop talking.”

“But I did my homework! Of course I’m not gonna stop talking,” he defends himself, the nervousness rising to his throat like bile. God, what if he did the wrong homework? What if he’s missed the assignment all along?

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough because you’re wrong, Jungkook. This isn’t a pink sapphire — this is a pink diamond.”

Jungkook’s brain stops functioning for a solid five seconds, his mouth drying. The only proof that he was still breathing is his big eyes threatening to water.

“And so is my ring that you gave to your friend without asking me,” you add.

“What?!” he sputters in disbelief, recounting to all the other times he named the gem in multiple occasions even before today. “B-but I said it so many times before! You didn’t even correct me!”

“I didn’t correct you because you looked so proud of yourself!” you exclaim, surrendering with a sigh. Pink sapphire was the first gem that Jungkook had managed to name in your trivia night on the first month of your marriage, his avidness on getting it “right” so contagious that you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Pink sapphire is dirt cheap compared to pink diamonds, Jungkook! You just keep saying sapphire over and over again because it’s your birthstone,” you mumble, looking around to see if there were any people growing nosy at your conversation. “I let you say it over and over again to the point that I wore them instead of diamonds because you just can’t shut up about them,” you grit.

This is the only time you reference your sentiment with the jewelry itself in words, your last profession of your disappointment in him being the removal of your wedding bands.

“That’s the thing with you — you can’t tell. This isn’t just about emerald o-or octagon cuts, Jungkook. This is our marriage and you gave a girl that I don’t like my ring that meant so much to me! Now you can’t get it back.”

Jungkook’s speechless, holding back tears. You fear you’ll cry yourself when you look at his round, pleading eyes so you don’t, squeezing in the last word even if he always lets you have it.

“And now I’m correcting you because you’re embarrassing me. Now please, lay off with the gem terms.”

( ♡ )

Things have been tame between you and Jungkook.

You’ve aired out your grievances and Jungkook’s still trying hard as always, perplexing you because he hasn’t gone restless. It’s progressively warmer between the two of you but it’s nowhere near to what the two of you used to be, the air between the two of you going static that you’ve utilized it for your own.

It’s just a quick getaway for the day, hopping aboard a yacht with the intention of giving yourself a break. You’ve reflected enough but not alone with yourself, the period of space with Jungkook being much-needed.

Until you’re mistaken of course.

You think your mind’s playing tricks on you when the boat rocks more than it would with waves, but the all too familiar figure coming into your vision turns out to be real. It’s Jungkook in the flesh, wearing his scuba suit and gear.

It’s a pure coincidence that is. All Jungkook knew was that you were going on a yacht today and you didn’t specify where; meanwhile, all you knew was that he was going to be scuba diving, but he didn’t specify where either.

It’s purely kismet but your bodyguard Taehyung doesn’t seem to think so, legitimately thinking it was a pirate instead of your husband so he repeatedly smacks him with an oar until you stop him.

“Jungkook!” you call out, getting your bodyguard to stop. Atleast he has the decency to look sheepish, but he was genuinely concerned! He thought you were being hijacked by someone dressed in the most unassuming scuba suit, holding a plastic bag in his hands.

Your husband barely winces from the pain because he’s high from all the adrenaline, chest rising rapidly in succession. “Y/N, baby, I — hold on, I’m gonna, wait-…”

He looks tired still but there’s a light to him, either his radiance has come back or it was just the sun behind him but either way, it was nice to look at Jungkook who isn’t groveling at your feet for once.

He finally catches his breath, standing up to his full height as he tries not to ramble his words.

“I bought all the fish.”

“You did what?” your eyes widen, pathetically looking at the vast ocean around you. Perhaps you’re so startled (and amused) by Jungkook’s sudden and silly appearance that you forgot to apply common sense, just as breathless as he is.

“Okay maybe not all, but I did buy a lot of fish,” he concedes, nodding incessantly. He’s too excited that he can’t contain himself, even more-so when you finally look at him without disdain staining your features.

“For what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jungkook smiles, never having been more proud retelling you his previous failure.

“Your favorite seafood restaurant? I bought them their stock, provided that they’ll open up every last fish in there to see if they had your ring,” he shrugs as if it’s a common thought process to abide by, later shaking his head. “They don’t.”

If there’s just one trait that Jungkook had to be known with by everyone, it would be his persistence.

Jeon Jungkook is endearingly, cloyingly, and annoyingly persistent with the things he desires and the things he’s passionate about. You’re his wife — you’re his every last desire and passion. He had wronged you fresh from a week and some days ago but that timeframe has already given him ample time to fully redeem himself.

He can’t undo what he did. He can’t reverse the time he lent his wife’s ring to his friend who loses it not a full day later. Jungkook can’t take back any of the things he did but what he can do is be dedicatedly persistent in correcting himself.

He’s tanner, his muscles are bulged and straining, and his skin’s itchy with all the salt but he takes all of these things in stride — he’s become a better person through persistence.

“I also tried snorkeling for a week and I still couldn’t find it,” he trails, biting his bottom lip while he clasps his hands behind his back. “But I tried again today.”

It’s either relief or endearment that fills your face full, but nonetheless, the light that Jungkook sees from you lulls him to the comfort and warmth he’s been yearning from you for the past week. His eyes are strained and his body feels itself moving in waves as if he was still underwater, but he just closes his eyes to savor the moment.

You bound to him to put him in an embrace, your husband instantly melting in your hold. It’s either all the salt in his eyes or it’s just the realization that you’ve finally forgiven him and it’s all the love he feels for you, but either way, you hold Jungkook tighter.

“I found your ring.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know when Jungkook first loved you.

You can’t pinpoint an exact moment when Jungkook started acting differently towards you because he’s always been the same way from day one, the same qualities that make him both annoying and endearing having been there from the start.

You could always ask but you can’t bring yourself to. It shouldn’t bother you at the end of the day because the important thing is that Jungkook loves you. He loves without reservations, the pinnacle of his love language being his patheticness in trying hard.

Jeon Jungkook may try hard for everyone, but he tries the most for you.

He wakes up early and you only realize his absence when you turn to pat the warm space he’s supposedly left behind, making you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

You wonder for a second that if Jungkook left the bed early and is quiet at the moment, he’s probably at the bottom of the staircase again because he yawned while going down. There’s no schedule today for either of you and you aren’t sick for him to make any sudden trips downstairs, his absence making you wonder this time.

There’s clanging coming from the garage, piquing your interest largely. There sits Jungkook wearing less safety gear that you’d like, blocks and blocks of wood surrounding him.

Your husband looks up, unassuming as usual while he breaks out into a grin.

“I’m making furniture for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” you snort, recounting all of the pieces you’ve acquired from your friend who’s an expert on woodcarving. Jungkook seems to know this too but he’s insistent, shaking his head eagerly.

His eyeglasses (his prescription ones instead of the actual safety ones) fog up from both his sweat and the few tears he’s shed out of frustration, taking them out so you could see the passion in his eyes. The passion’s definitely there, dampening his eyelashes and even tinting his eyelids pink.

“No, I’ll paint it up real good and it’ll blend it to your aesthetic.”

“Besides that, Jungkook,” you warn, coming down to squat on the space beside him. “You’re not good with tools.”

“Not good at them like Hoseok?” he questions, raising his brow. He’s frustrated and cranky and he just compared his (eager yet improper) use of large power tools compared to Hoseok’s expertise in using much, much smaller tools. Jungkook’s sweaty from all the effort, vaguely gesturing to the item in front of him. “Please, can Hoseok do it like me?”

Your husband points to the lopsided bench (?) slash coffee table (?) slash abstract piece (?) in front of you whose message is that they’re tired, only the scoopers for faux blood missing. It’s quite the spectacle. Not necessarily a statement piece because it raises more questions than any resolute takeaways at all.

“No, not really,” you joke around, winking to get the joke across your husband’s skull who sometimes reads between the lines too literally. “He can do it much, much better than you.”

“I’m trying to be romantic!” Jungkook whines with no real harm. “Go ahead, why don’t you divorce me and marry him because he’s so good with using a hammer?”

The two of you were back; the same playfulness and warmth rekindling, if not stronger. Some things were just too strong to grow out of, such as Jungkook’s double takes when it comes to another name being linked to you.

He’s just making sure, still as desperate to gain your validation even before the ring incident took place.

“That was… a joke if you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook laughs robotically, eyes narrowing and widening at you every two seconds. “I’m just kidding. You knew that. You wouldn’t do that… right?”

You wouldn’t.

He knows that you love him. He had known it during his state of vulnerability and he knows it now even in a state of security. He knows it even without a wedding ring, your promise of making new ones for the both of you remaining in his mind.

The downfall of Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be his persistence that also bears the ability to be his uprising, it was never that. Jungkook’s downfall would only be the loss of you and it’s the only absence that he can’t risk.

Your husband tries so hard that it brings you secondhand embarrassment at times, his mishap with the pink sapphire cementing in your mind just how much of himself he dedicates to you, even with lapses along the way.

Jungkook tries so hard that he ends the day with splinters on his hand and his sinuses clogged with far too much dust. His effort doesn’t always equate to the best but he gives what he always has when you’re in the equation.

It’s a wooden box for your rings, a shallow heart with your initials carved on the inside. It’s smooth even without the varnish, a stark contrast to his hands that are all rough from doing all the labor.

“I can’t give you jewelry that you already have.”

Jungkook admits to you whole-heartedly, sitting at the end of the bed while he watches you admire the box in your vanity.

“But I can make shirts for you. Stitch up your name real nicely on my chest pocket,” he offers, the smile on his lips growing. “I can make furniture for you,” he shrugs, chuckling at himself. “I can’t guarantee that it’s usable but I can make furniture a little.”

You smile so warmly that Jungkook forgets all of the little pains, melting away his fatigue. If you could put all the love you have for Jungkook in a single space, even the mansion the two of you reside in won’t be enough.

“Cooking too. I can also cook a-and make perfect rice and I promise to remember how you like your eggs in the morning.”

Jungkook knows it to heart by now, even without the reminder he’s written himself pasted on the counter. Your eyes were just so glossy and moist that Jungkook can’t help but to spring to your side, patting them dry with his shirt.

Your husband wipes away your tears even before they could form and it pushes them out further, the voice in your throat dwindling. It’s the cheap and rusting mood ring on his ring finger that gets you to sob, seeing the faint green outline that it leaves.

He takes notice of your observation, understanding that jewelry means much more to you that he could comprehend which is why he’s quick to remedy your thoughts.

“I can always get tattoos of you if that’s what you want,” he continues, smiling sheepishly. “Actually, that’s what I want.”

Jungkook takes off his ring and it forces you to blink away your tears, lips parting open when it clicks.

It’s your initials on Jungkook’s ring finger, recognizing it as your own handwriting.

You’re filled with a great amount of gratitude that runs even deeper than the ink on Jungkook’s skin, making you sniffle and it gets him to bury your face against his chest while he shushes you.

“Why would you get that?”

It belatedly hits you that since you took your wedding bands, your husband’s left ring finger had not been vacant since.

“Because you sold our rings,” Jungkook shrugs, the look of ease on his face evident. “You sold them but we’re still married to each other,” he gently kisses your temple, letting you hold his hand to look at the tattoo closer. “We’re married. I still want people to know that I’m married to you.”

“Well,” you clear your throat, distraught with your emotions. “Your mood ring says you’re sad.”

“Passionate would be the term,” he sniffles, transferring the cheap ring to your finger. He giggles when it changes colors immediately, the timing of the situation being impeccable. “Okay now my ring says you’re happy.”

“Are you?” he asks whilst laughing but the both of you know it bears a weight.

“I am,” you answer just as seriously. “We’re okay, Jungkook. I forgive you.”

If you ask Jungkook what would his greatest joy and his greatest pain be, both answers would be you.

“Is your tattoo artist still around?” you ask while he puts you close to his chest, snapping him out of his trance.

“What for?”

“I think I want to match your permanent ring.”

“Are you real?” he mutters to himself, questioning your existence that he still isn’t sure if he deserves to have and love for the rest of his life. “Are you really real? You exist?”

“Yeah, he’s still around but I’d rather do it on you myself,” Jungkook answers eventually, returning the question. “Is that okay? Let me learn for a few months and I’ll tattoo my initials on you myself?”

You furrow your brows, not a single doubt placed on you if your husband was the one to tattoo you. “Yeah, but is that okay with you? You’re the only one who’s gonna have me on you for a couple more months. I can’t reciprocate because you want to ink me yourself.”

Jungkook only smiles, the warmth enough to outshine the sun.

“That’s not new to me,” he reassures you. “I loved you even before I married you.”

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