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hyunsvngs · 11 months

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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her.

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed.

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore.

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness.

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.”

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had.

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth.

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth.

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival.

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch.

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film.

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right.

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you.

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday.

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now.

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again.

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation.

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect.

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.”

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you.

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker.

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly.

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made.

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully.

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation.

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need.

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.”

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw.

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened.

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too.

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure.

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message.

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top.

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.”

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you.

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you.

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you.

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again.

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex.

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you.

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted.

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die.

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable.

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

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miirohs · 2 months

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adore you [k.s]

pairing: Ken Sato x Fem!Reader wc: 1.0k cw: n/a an: this was messy 3 am thoughts... bare with me pls my thoughts can be coherent if i try. lso not proofread tee hee. man i have too much free time wtf.

You knew Ken was lofty in his other form, for a lack of better words, but you had severely underestimated how tall he could truly get.

He was barely avoiding hitting the ceilings from the look of it, left awkwardly kneeling on the cold metal floor as Emi ran laps around him. You watched it go down from the safety of being near the elevator, wincing as he tousled with Emi, long arms outstretched in an attempt to grab her once again.

“Ken?” It was supposed to be a lot softer than it sounded, but the room was like an echo chamber, voice warping around the room rather loudly.

He immediately turned to you, bright pupils widening in recognition. Even Emi stopped, distracted by you as she hit and slid down Ken’s leg.

“Hi baby, when’d you get down here?” He moved a little closer, one hand on the floor and the other on his knee as he towered over you.

“Oh! It was only a couple moments ago, I just…” You faltered, your eyes meeting his glowing ones. You could’ve sworn he was further from you a moment ago.

You still weren’t used to his other form, rare occasions where you’d see it in person. He was much smaller and lithe on screen, but in real life it was so much more menacing. You tried not to shudder at the cold air drafting towards you.

“I just missed you, that’s all.” You placed a hand on the space between his eyes, petting the smooth metal. “It’s a bit stuffy up there, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond to you or the concerned chirps from Emi as she moved closer to get a better look at you. It was only as Emi reached out to grab you that he pushed her back, unfurling his previously fisted hand in front of you.

“C’mere.”

“What?” You blinked, shying away a little as he pushed his open palm closer to you.

“I said c’mere baby,” He stated, tone rather teasing as he beckoned you forward, “Emi’s probably gonna get scared because she’s not that familiar with you, she might stomp you by accident if I leave you on the ground sitting around like that.”

Your heart raced a bit as you opened your mouth, drawing a blank as you reached out a hand and drew it back.

“Is this really safe?” He nodded earnestly, chuckling under his breath as he mimicked your question.

“Hey! I can still hear you y’know!” You fumed. He rolled his eyes, pushing the tip of his finger under your hand. “I know, but you ought to trust me more, don’t you think? I’m Ultraman and your boyfriend!”

You groaned, swayed by his playful persistence. "Fine… I’ll do it." you relented, warmth from his teasing spreading to your ears and neck.

“Come on, trust me, I promise I won't let anything happen to you," he reassured as you gingerly hauled yourself into his hand, wobbling for a couple moments on the uneven surface before you fell flat on his palm.

His pupils softened, surprisingly gentle as he held you, fingers closing on you slightly as he brought you closer to his face. That didn’t stop you from digging your nails into his relatively warm skin, breathing unevenly.

"There you go, attagirl," he murmured, unfurling his fingers for you to get a better view of everything. "See? ‘S perfectly safe. Nothing’s gonna happen if you move."

You couldn’t really bring yourself to move, instead choosing to cling to one of his fingers, halfheartedly eyeing the gap through which you could see Emi playing with one of his cars. He was clearly getting a kick out of it, pupils glowing in the dim light as he poked a finger at you affectionately.

“I don’t know how anyone can do this so easily,” You sighed, pushing the tip of his finger to the as he giggled at your predicament, “This makes me lowkey nauseous, everything looks so small from up here.”

“Everything seems small from up here baby,” He replied. You could almost imagine the face he was making under the mask. Smirking, perhaps, but still as charming as the day you met him.

“Maybe it’s just you getting big,” You shot back playfully, a smirk tugging at your lips as you teased him. Ken’s laugh shook you, and you fell down again with an umph.

“Watch it,” he retorted with mock seriousness, “I might just have to charge you for the free ride you just caught with me.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh please,” you snarked, feigning offense at the suggestion as you pushed yourself back up, “You’d end up paying for that one way or another.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” He flirted back, and the edge you’d been on slowly melted away as he laughed. He leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "In fact, I'd gladly pay the price for having you close to me like this."

“Uh uh,” You cackled, interrupting him by landing a kiss on his cheek, “Getting a little suspicious there, Ultraman, keep it pg! There’s a child in the room!”

"You're too much," He murmured, “Too much, baby.”

"Can't help it," you replied, leaning back against his finger for support, “You’re just so unserious sometimes.”

“It's a talent," He shrugged, "But seriously, are you okay up here? Not too dizzy? I’ll bring you back down if you want."

You nodded, feeling more settled now. "I'm good, it’s not so drafty up here."

“You know, I like having you in my hand like this. You’re like a speck of dust, feels like you’ll basically disappear any second now." He cocked his head, the look of a lost puppy ever clearer in his eyes.

“Don’t worry cowboy,” You patted his thumb affectionately, watching as Emi clambered up his leg and failed, only to try again. “You’d make a pretty good giant, if I do say so myself. I wouldn’t mind hanging out more with you like this."

“Is this a date?” He asked, obviously surprised by the move you made on him.

“If you want it to be.” You answered distractedly, clapping as Emi tried to show you the car in her hand.

“I think i’d like that,” He replied back quietly, even if you hadn’t heard him, distracted by the baby. “I’d think so, baby.”

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hannieehaee · 5 months

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SERENDIPITY

18+ / mdi

summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.

content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, everyone here is a god/goddess of some sort, side character deaths, the dialogue is very much modern and not fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.6k

a/n: for immersion purposes, psyche will be a reader insert and wont be referred to as psyche throughout the story (but jk will be referred interchangeably as cupid). anyways i read this last week during one of the lit courses i decided to take to improve my writing and really enjoyed it!! i hope u guys enjoy it too<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Why did you call for me, again?"

"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."

"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."

"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."

"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.

Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.

"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."

"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.

Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.

Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow, and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."

With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.

"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.

"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."

"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.

It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.

Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.

It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.

As weeks passed by, your parents became more and more worried with your state. You were unconsolable, finding misery in every letter your sisters would send in regard to their new lives with their new families. One of your sisters was already awaiting an heir. Despite your endless happiness for your loving sister, your misery at your own situation prevented you from feeling genuine excitement for a new heir in your family. You wanted your own. You needed your own.

Your constant distress caused your parents to seek out a esteemed Oracle in your city, hoping that she would be able to give some insight about your predicament. She would be able to answer the question as though who and when you would find a suitor.

Visiting her was easy enough, feeling intense excitement at the prospect of an insight into who your beloved would be. Your parents seemed indifferent, but simply hoped to ease your endless concerns.

The Oracle took the form of an old woman, one who was known to assert people's future entirely correctly. Thus far, she was yet to be erroneous in her readings. Such magic was impressive to you, leaving you worried for any bad outcome she could possibly see in your future. If she were to find something unfortunate, there would likely be no way to remedy it. However, your parents assured you that the preventive knowledge would allow you to act accordingly and fix your destiny should you need to.

"The great Psyche," smiled the old woman sitting across from you, "I have heard lots about you."

Bowing your head in respect, you introduced yourself despite her knowing you by the popular name of Psyche, "I have heard of you too. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Oracle. I hope to find a favorable end with you."

"I hope for the same."

Taking your hands, the Oracle felt them, closing her eyes in concentration as she went through every crease and contour of your hands, furrowing her eyebrows every so often. Her emotions translated onto you somehow, making your heartbeat speed up and your own eyebrows furrow in worry.

Suddenly her eyes opened, a clear distress showing through them.

"Your destiny is muddled," she began, "I cannot see too well, but your future is grand and ... it will lead to misfortune to those around you."

Your mother stepped in at such words, inquiring for more information, "What do you mean by this? What is it that you saw?"

"Your child may wed a powerful being. One among the strongest to ever be seen. She shall marry a being stronger than a God, one capable of immeasurable destruction should he choose to engage in such acts."

"A God?", asked your father.

"It is uncertain as per what I see," she responded, "All I can see is his aura radiating stronger than the sun. He shall take her and make her his own, not allowing anything to stand in his way," she reaffirmed.

"I-", you began, unable to finish your sentence as your parents quickly stood up and dragged you onto your feet.

"We shall take our leave," your mother said frantically, "We thank you for your service."

No more questions were asked as your parents dragged you by your hand, leading you out of the cursed place.

The Oracle's words had never been wrong, which meant that your future was sealed. You were to wed something that was not a man. Was he a God? There was just no way of knowing. It could've been a demon or monster seeking the most beautiful woman in the land. It could've been a God seeking a mortal to keep in his chambers as he wed a Goddess. Whatever it may have been, you were terrified.

"You shall leave," were your mother's first words upon arriving back to the castle.

"W-what?"

"We cannot keep you here. If a being is to come and rip you away, we cannot allow it to destroy our kingdom. Your fate is sealed, but ours remains," said your mother, your father nodding in agreement beside her.

"Where am I to go?" you whispered in disbelief.

"We will take you to the mountains. Maybe the monster shall not find you there."

"Monster? How can you be so certain?"

"Gods mustn't marry mortals, you foolish child. A God would never have to drag you away, as you would go willingly. It must be an evil creature attempting to attain your beauty."

"But-"

"No 'but's, child. It has been decided," your father gave the final verdict, thus sealing your fate even further.

To have hoped for protection from your parents had been foolish. These were the same royalty who had given away their two eldest daughters to the highest bidders, not caring for proper marriages as long as they meant protection for their kingdom. You were equally worthless to them. Should you pose any danger to their kingdom and you would simply be thrown aside, just as now.

The following days proved as a goodbye as your parents prepared your departure. They assured themselves they shall never see you again, so they made arrangements with that idea in mind. Without a care for your wellbeing, they assured themselves this was the best course of action. Your fate was sealed, after all. There was nothing they could do to protect you any longer.

It was only a few days after your visit to the Oracle that your parents made the long and extraneous walk to the lone mountains neighboring the kingdom. Climbing the highest and most lonesome peak, they bid their goodbyes to you, with your mother letting out a few worthless tears as she looked at you one last time.

Your first few days on the mountain had been miserable. You only had enough food to realistically survive a few days, but your parents had reassured you that your husband would come for you soon, likely aware that you were there for his taking. The constant fear of the most odious taking you away made you feel terror you had never experienced. Jumping into the peaks below you crossed your mind a few times, but you knew you'd survive the fall. Your fate did not predict a tragic death, which meant that any fall would not result in demise. Your metaphorical demise would only come in the form of your husband.

All you could do now was wait for him to come, hoping against all hope that he would not be as monstrous as you dared imagine.

Jungkook was beyond annoyed at his current task.

Despite being a God, he did not hold the same almighty powers many other Gods did. His skill was the intertwining of souls, shooting his arrow any time he knew two people were meant to be tied for life.

In all honesty, he did not care for such a task. The thought of tying Psyche's fate to that of a monstrous being did not bother him in the slightest. He felt quite indifferent about it, not knowing nor caring who Psyche was. He doubted Psyche's beauty could possibly be as menacing as his mother had described, but he still felt some sort of intrigue about her appearance.

Fortunately, his curiosity was soon satiated.

After days of looking for Psyche, he finally encountered her, watching from afar as he spotted a lone woman standing on the cliff of a mountain, completely bare as her clothes laid ripped on the small surface of the mountain. It appeared that she had been there for days, likely having ripped off her own clothes in frustration.

Had you been left here for his taking? Destiny worked in mysterious ways, after all.

As of now, Cupid had only been able to see your backside, as you were facing opposite of him. Even from afar, Jungkook could not deny the beauty of your body. Every curve and contour of it had been sculpted to perfection, making the God salivate at the sight. But Jungkook had come here with a task. He needed to take care of his mother's request. There was no time to thirst after the heavenly body before him.

Reaching behind him, Jungkook grabbed onto his bow and arrow, bringing both to the front as he began to aim at you, prepared to shoot when he got the angle just right. After shooting you, he would aim his arrow at the first creature he encountered, let it be a deer or an actual monster. It did not matter much at the moment.

But as Jungkook had said, destiny worked in mysterious ways.

Jungkook had been entirely unprepared for the moment you turned around, facing him yet not seeing him from his hiding spot in the distance.

Your beauty took his breath away instantly, making him falter in his movements as his focus shifted from his arrow and onto you. Your body was the image of perfection itself, shaped perfectly for his hands to drag themselves across every inch of skin. Your curves were begging to be marked by his lips, being just the perfect size for any God to lose himself in them. And your face? Gods, it was the prettiest sight in all of Rome.

Jungkook understood now why his mother had felt threatened by your mere existence. He understood why you had so many admirers, yet no suitors brave enough to make you theirs.

Without realizing, Jungkook's hand had slipped during his daydreaming, making him misplace his hand and causing his arrow to grace him across the chest, creating a gash right by his accelerated heart.

Oh.

Fuck.

You ...

Gods, you beautiful thing. You gorgeous, beautiful thing.

The effects of the arrow were quick in turning Jungkook into a mess of himself. His breathing accelerated, his eyes became hooded, his skin rose in goosebumps, his cock stood tall and proud. His entire body betrayed him as he rapidly fell in love with you.

His mission had failed, but he could not care for such things in this moment. Not when he felt such strong emotions of love towards you.

This was rare. His arrows caused people to fall in love, but never had they produced such a strong effect. Never had he seen a man become so immensely enamored so quickly after a shot of his arrow. Perhaps your beauty had bewitched him before his arrow struck? The details didn't really matter much to him. At least not as much as his sheer need to have you did.

But it could not be done so easily.

Gods were not meant to fall in love with humans. Should his mother ever find out and you would both meet your ruin. No, he needed to think this through. He needed to get to you, but not allow you to know of him. If you were ever to see him, you'd fall in love with him instantly.

He did not want to force such a situation onto you, so despite the sheer effort it took, Jungkook took his leave, opting to plan for an appropriate way to rescue you and make you his.

It took a few days for your misery to come to an end.

After endless hours of agony stranded and alone on the peak of that mountain as you awaited your inevitable demise, you finally came to find some peace.

It was a voice, an unknown one, calling to you. It had been during one of the many instances in which you had found yourself wailing at your misery, completely defeated at your situation.

Suddenly a voice called out to you, reassuring words in their tongue.

"Do not fear, Psyche, nor be sorrowful beyond measure... I have come to aid you, for it is impossible that Love should go unrewarded."

Despite the words, there was no heavenly body attached to them. They had simply come from the wind.

"Who are you?", you asked.

"I am Zephyrus, the West Wind. You may never see me, but I am here to rescue you."

"Rescue me? Where shall you take me?"

"I shall take you to my master's castle. He shall care for you there."

"Your master?", was this meant to be the monster who would wed you?

"Yes. His immeasurable love for you shall be proved as he cares for you."

"Is he ... Is he a monster?"

"On the contrary. He is a heavenly body; the most heavenly of them all," reassured the West Wind.

A heavenly body? Could it really be a God?

You needed no time to consider it. You decided to you must go and meet the man who would save you from your misery.

"Take me, Zephyrus. Please."

"With pleasure."

You were unsure how you had arrived here, but that was the last of your concerns upon seeing your surroundings.

Currently, you found yourself in the most beautiful of palaces. Everything was made of expensive marble and tailored just to your tastes. As you explored the gorgeous abode, Zephyrus explained your current situation to you.

"You shall be cared for here, by the most competent of servants," the West Wind began, "They will rid you of all the misery you suffered on that mountain. Every bit of suffering your family brought to you shall be undone within this palace.

"Oh, thank you, Zephyrus! You don't understand how grateful I am."

"You shall not thank me. This is all your beloved's doing."

"When shall I meet him?"

"You will meet him tonight, as you lay to sleep," he began, "However, you shall not see him."

That confused you.

"What do you mean?"

"He wishes not to be seen. He will come to you in your barest of forms to reveal his undying affections, but you shall respect his wishes of not being seen. He will show up in the dark as your back faces him. This is his one and only condition," revealed Zephyrus.

"Oh."

It was disheartening, to say the least. But you owed your eternal gratitude to your future husband, so if he requested not to be seen, you would obey such order.

"I understand. Anything for my savior."

The next few hours were spent in luxury you had yet to familiarize yourself with.

You were bathed and fed, healed from all trace of injury during your time stranded. You were treated as a Goddess, served by invisible, voiceless servants as the wind aided you in all your needs.

It proved quite lonely, but you were still content at the knowledge that your beloved would come to you tonight.

They dressed you up as beautiful as you could imagine. Your beauty shone through the care you were given, making you appear entirely irresistible to any man who should come your way.

Oh, you were beyond excited to see your future husband. Would he allow passion to take over him when he saw you?

You had not met him yet, but you were already in love. All things Zephyrus had told you about him only made you more excited.

He detailed his feelings for you, telling you the mountains he'd move just for a single glance at you. He told you of the creation of this palace, rushed to be made to your liking just so he could care for you away from all harm.

Oh, your husband just sounded so lovely. Yet you wanted to cause his ruin upon meeting him.

You laid in bed, your natural beauty shining through the care your invisible servants had given you. Your sleeping gown allowed any to see the perfect contour of your curves as you laid in bed awaiting your beloved's arrival, back facing the window as Zephyrus had instructed.

You were not to face towards the window, allowing the dark atmosphere of the room to hide your beloved's identity. However, according to Zephyrus, your beloved would be able to see you through his magic, allowing him to get his fill of your beauty.

It only took a few hours for a voice to emerge through the window.

"Oh, my beloved," sighed the voice, approaching.

"Husband?", you asked, still lying on your side, facing away from him.

"Yes, it's me. I have not wed you yet, but you are correct. You are my wife from now on, beautiful," his steps got closer, stopping at the edge of the bed opposite your own.

"Oh, husband, how long I've waited for you!", you wailed.

He took a shaky breath, climbing the bed as his hands laid softly on your hip. Your hip had been sticking out due to your sideways position, ready for him to grab at it however he desired.

"My beautiful Psyche ... You cannot understand how badly I want you ..." he breathed, hands hesitant as they caressed the curves presented to him, "I've had to hold back from ravaging you for days. Your touch is the only cure to this madness I feel."

Never in your life had you felt such an immediate fire within you. Oh, how badly you wanted to see him and express the same sentiment.

"You shall touch me however you wish, my dear husband. Please touch me ... I am yours," you pleaded.

"Yes? You are mine? Even if you shall never see me, you wish to be mine?"

You winced at such words, sad at the implications behind never facing your husband. But his voice and touch were enough to render you powerless against him, wanting him more than you thought possible.

You whimpered when his hands went to lift up your gown, revealing your nude bottom as he continued to caress at you.

"Yes! I am yours in every way. Please ... please take me. I need your touch more than anything," you pleaded.

With a groan, he positioned you so he could kneel behind you, placing you on all fours for him. It truly did not matter if you faced him or not, as the room was far too dark for you to ever make out his mere silhouette.

His hands were greedy as he felt you up, throwing off the useless gown so he could have his fill of your body. With endless groans and puffs of breath, he touched every inch, kissing his favorite parts as he explored your body.

"You beautiful thing ... No one shall ever have this body ever again. It is mine forever. Do you understand?"

You sighed in pleasure due to his mere touch, "Yes, husband. My body is for you only."

"I am going to officially wed you as I find my rightful place inside you. This will serve as our wedding night. Okay, gorgeous?"

You nodded wordlessly, pushing up against him to encourage his touch further.

It seemed as if he was already nude, as you felt his hardness behind you when he pushed up against you in retaliation.

Oh, it was so big and warm. He would surely be your ruin.

With a groan, he entered you, making your back arch deliciously at such stretch.

"Oh ... My angel ... My beautiful Psyche. You are everything a man could want, fuck. Feel so perfect around me," the God groaned upon entering you, hands digging into your hips as he began canting his hips against yours.

He caressed you like a man in love, whimpering any time you'd get just a little too tight for him. For the first time in your life, you felt like a true Goddess, experiencing worship from a God himself.

"It's so warm and perfect ...", he sighed, "Made for me, yeah? Just for me ... My Psyche, my ruin, my perfect ruin," he murmured as he pressed kisses against your back, a new confession of love behind each one.

Meanwhile, you were rendered wordless. Nothing made sense when you felt such otherworldly pleasure. Were mere mortals meant to experience such bliss? How could you ever outlive such an experience when your beloved was giving you everything and more than you ever hoped from a husband?

Your whines filled up the room, making your husband speed up out of sheer desire for more. He encouraged your sounds, dipping a hand between your legs to play with you with his skilled fingers, drawing cry after cry out of you as his hips refused to slow down.

"You are so beautiful, fuck ..." he groaned, "Men should worship the ground you walk on. I will worship you ... Every day for the rest of our lives I will worship this beautiful body."

Nothing but love flowed between you. Your new husband's obsession with you was more than clear. The God worshiped your body with low cries of your name, hips becoming less and less coordinated by the minute. His godly stamina was no match for the feelings flowing through his body, rendering him weaker than a human man at the sight of his beloved losing herself under his touch.

Your high triggered his own, making him slump against your back as his hips attempted to hump against you throughout the entirety of his orgasm. He whimpered pathetically at the tightening of your walls, crying expletives far too explicit for a God to recite.

You did not fare any better. From the moment your husband laid his hands on you, you became a shell of your former self, your body now a vessel dedicated to pleasure. You had yet to even ask his name, too immersed in the love between you to even remember.

"My beautiful girl," he whispered as he recovered his breath, kissing along the length your back, "I will protect you for the rest of eternity," his lips went down your back, reaching your ass, "going to take care of you in any and every way," his lips eventually reached your cunt, still swollen and leaking out his own essence. He remained quiet for a few moments, likely hypnotized by the sight.

"Oh ...," he groaned upon a tentative lick against your sensitive cunt, "Need you again ... Need this cunt again," he cried, losing himself between your folds.

Losing his train of thought entirely, he held you up on your hands and knees, feasting on your cunt shamelessly. He kissed and licked at you, groaning any time your ass would push back against him, silently begging for more.

"F-feels so good ... Need y-you. Please ...", you whimpered, begging for nothing in particular. Such pleasure had you lacking any critical thought. You were likely the most mindless creature in all of the land as your husband took away all your ability to reason.

"Gonna get you there, gorgeous. Gonna make you cum and make you mine over and over again," he growled against your cunt.

With just a few more moments, you came undone once more, this time falling against the bed in sheer exhaustion. You wished to turn around and seek solace in your husband, but you knew better and opted to allow him to initiate the next contact.

Once more, he spent a few moments worshiping your limp body, kissing and sucking at every corner he enjoyed. Every so often he would mutter low praises to your person, claiming worship towards you. Unfortunately, this ended far too soon, quickly leaving you cold and alone on the bed as be suddenly got up.

"I apologize if that was too much," he chuckled, now from a small distance. You wanted to turn to confirm, but you did not dare disobey his prior order, "I, uh, I must take my leave now, my love."

That was when you truly wished to break his rule and turn to him, pleading at him to stay with you through the night. One night and you were already infatuated with him.

"You're leaving?"

The disappointment must've been clear in your voice, as he instructed you to close your eyes before he turned you around to face him, caressing your cheeks in a loving manner before landing a soft peck on your lips.

"I cannot stay the night with you, beautiful. If you wake up and find out my identity ... I don't know how I shall protect you from that."

"But-"

"It's okay, angel. I will be back night after night, giving you all the love a God can muster. Now I bid you goodnight, my love. I love you," he kissed the back of your palm, quickly disappearing from your vicinity before you could say goodbye.

When you opened your eyes he was gone, window still open and marking his sudden exit. As deflated as you felt at his departure, you also felt immense excitement for the next morning in which you'd see him, promising yourself to be prepared for him every single night to deliver your love to him.

After weeks of becoming your husband's wife, you continued to live a life of pure bliss every night as he made love to you. It was still incomprehensible to you how he would deliver his sentiments in such a carnal way, but you were yet to have any complaints. The two of you would create the embodiment of love together every night, and you looked forward to it day after day.

But it was only the nighttime that brought you such happiness. You'd spend your days waiting for your husband to arrive, hoping for the moment in which he'd be with you and love you. He'd make conversation with you every night after making love to you, making you feel less lonely in those moments. However, you'd remain completely alone the rest of your days.

It wasn't after many pleas that your husband finally agreed to allow you some company in your new palace. Being accessible only through the flowing of Zephyrus' wind, you were completely alone at all times. It had taken vast begging from your part, but your husband eventually agreed to command Zephyrus to fly your sisters out to you, somehow managing to get into contact with them.

The last time you had seen them had been before finding out about your wretched fate through that Oracle. They remained unaware that you had been left stranded at the mountain, likely entering a panic when the news were delivered to them.

Before allowing your sisters access to his palace, your husband had warned you to stray away from their persuasion. Confused, you asked him to elaborate. He then informed you of the way in which they'd likely envy your newfound fortune and somehow wish to cause a rift between you and your husband. As one last warning, he told you to not listen to them should they tell you to unmask his identity. He loved you far too much to be ripped away from you in such a way, he had said.

You did not believe your sisters capable of attempting to sabotage the immense love you had found in the arms of your husband, but you had unfortunately been wrong.

Upon their arrival, they had showed little concern for your sudden disappearance, simply making quips about how much less their husbands provided for them, claiming they deserved more than yourself. They, of course, did not say such things to your face but rather to each other. But the winds of Zephyrus informed you of it all upon their departure. Even during their stay, they demanded you unmask your husband, claiming he must be a hideous creature if he was so insistent in hiding himself from his beloved wife.

You, unfortunately, fell for their trap. The seed of doubt had been instilled within you, making your curiosity for your husband grow more rapidly than ever. As soon as they left, you began pondering on ways to see your husband in a way that would not reveal your betrayal.

The outcome did not matter in the end. Regardless of your husband's appearance, you would fall for him time and time again just from his mere presence. Should he be the most wretched of monsters and you would still love him. His love and tenderness for you had rendered you a woman in love, and nothing would take that away.

But you needed to know. You needed to see him. You had gone far too long without seeing your soul's other half.

It occurred just a few nights later. The fated night in which you would finally see your husband.

By an act of the Gods above, your husband had fallen asleep right after a night of rigorous love making, holding you in his arms with the most love a man could hold for his woman.

In the sheer darkness, you managed to make your way out of your husband's hold, sneaking your way to the other side of the room with difficulty due to the complete lack of illumination in the room. After some struggle in the dark, you found a lamp, which you managed to light up with some oil.

Due to the small size of the lamp, you had to come close to your husband in order to properly see him. With hesitation, you walked over to him, holding the lamp right above his sleeping form to get the perfect view of him.

He was ...

He was the embodiment of love itself.

Before you laid Cupid, the most beautiful of all Gods.

Jungkook, as some knew him, slept under the light of your lamp, beautiful wings nowhere to be seen as he retracted them in his sleep.

You became instantly hypnotized by the sight of your beautiful husband. Your heart sped up and your eyes became heavy. His nude form was nothing short of art, and his gorgeous features were some that could never be replicated by neither man nor God.

If you hadn't already been insanely head over heels over your husband, you would've fallen for Jungkook upon a single sight. It had been the most beautiful God who had been making love to you night after night, praying to you as if you had been the deity.

Unconsciously, you grew too distracted by the sight of your beloved, not realizing you had tilted your lamp enough for some of the scorching oil to slip and trickle onto Jungkook's chest, immediately rendering him awake.

With shock in his eyes, he got up in a frantic hurry, clearly not having realized he had fallen asleep next time you. His hands went straight to soothing the burnt skin right by his chest. It didn't take long for betrayal to appear in his eyes, realizing that you had deliberately sought out a way in which to see him while he was fully unaware of your intentions.

"Psyche ...", he muttered, eyebrows furrowed as he avoided your eyes in disdain. You caught sight of tears growing in his eyes, causing pain to gnaw at your chest.

"Jungkook, I-"

He chuckled bitterly at the situation, "I warned you against this time and time again, but you became poisoned by the words of mere mortals who do not hold the love for you I so highly esteem," he took a breath, "I foolishly wounded myself with my own arrow and took the role of your lover. I feared that you'd want to cut off the head that carries these eyes that love you, so I remained a mystery to you. Yet your own love for me did not respect me enough to halt this betrayal. I- I shall take my leave. Goodbye, Y/N," he said before retracting his wings and making his way out through the window once more, hands rubbing at the growing wound on his chest due to the oil that had burnt him.

You stood there wordless, tears in your eyes as you watched your husband fly away.

Your cursed endlessly throughout the rest of your sleepless night, hoping that maybe he would come back tomorrow so you could make amends.

Tomorrow never came, and neither did the next day. From your perspective, time stood still as Jungkook continued not to show up day after day for a week. On the seventh day, your heart grew too sore to continue waiting for him without taking action.

Although you blamed your own greed for him for your betrayal to him, you also blamed the instigators – your sisters.

But they were your sisters no more. They were simply obstacles to overcome in the journey to gain Jungkook's trust back. And nothing would stop you.

A new sense of vengeance took over you astonishingly fast. Without a second thought, you managed to contact each of your sisters individually, making claims of your husband, Cupid himself, becoming unforgiving of your betrayal and demanding your departure, announcing that he would wed your sister instead. Each of your greedy sisters fell for the lie and one by one fell to their death as they attempted to make their way to Cupid's castle.

As for you, you managed to convince the West Wind to fly you off the mountains so you could begin your journey to your beloved. Hurt and disheartened, you spent weeks in search of him, not mindful at all of how battered you became with the passing of time. Any pain would be worth Jungkook's forgiveness.

However, your state of mind and exhaustion led you to multiple attempts at ending your own life, attempting to drown yourself or jump off cliffs, always surviving almost unscathed by some cruel act of the Gods. Without Jungkook's forgiveness life was simply not worth living.

In the meantime, Jungkook found himself in his mother's chambers, healing from the wound you had caused as his mother let out her fury at the discovery of her son's new lover.

"So you decided to wed your mother's nemesis? You decided that you shall bring this wench upon me and tie her to me for eternity?", she seethed as Jungkook disregarded her, too exhausted to respond.

"I shall find that hideous wench and rid the world of her myself," she decided, calling over a few servants to direct them to deliver you to them, "And you," she turned to Cupid once more, "You useless child. I shall birth another one just to spite you for your disrespect."

Those were her last words as she exit the chambers, leaving Jungkook to his rest once more. He wanted to worry for you, but his wound of the heart needed more healing before he could allow himself to go find you for himself. Within him, he thought of you fondly, hoping you'd survive his mother's wrath.

It did not take long for Venus to find you and bring you to your knees before her, expressing every foul thought she had of you with no shame.

"You believe to be worthy of Cupid, the prettiest God to lay foot on this world? Fine. Should you complete my tasks and I shall stay out of your way. Should you fail, I will do with you as I please."

Having spent weeks alone in the wilderness, injured in every way imaginable, you could not see a better outcome to such a situation. You agreed without thinking twice, knowing that no fate was worse than your current one.

You were assigned impossible tasks, one by one, as Venus sat back and awaited for your inevitable demise.

Much to her surprise, the divine forces had helped you in the completion of each one.

The first task had been to sort an immense amount of grains before morning. The grains amounted to an innumerable quantity, which proved the task to be impossible. Upon your defeat, you fell asleep halfway through the task, somehow waking up to find ants assisting you in its completion. By the time Venus arrived, she had a frown on her face at the sight of the achievement.

Her anger did not last, as she assigned you the next impossible task with ease.

Upon being ordered to gather golden fleece from magic sheep, you knew that this time you'd truly meet your demise. The sheep were extremely aggressive and known to kill a man in mere seconds. However, by another act of the Gods above, the reeds by the riverbank suddenly advised you to await til morning in order to freely gather the fleece that the sheep had shed.

The completion of this task also brought anger to Venus' demeanor, causing her to provide you with yet another impossible task. The completion of the final task finally led to the hardest of them all; one that would finally render you no longer.

Your final task had been to travel to the underworld and bring Venus a box of beauty. There were far too many intricate steps to be followed, but your love for Jungkook was enough to lead your journey.

Finally, upon your arrival, you held the box of beauty in your hands, ready to deliver it to Venus and finally receive her blessing in wedding her son. But once more, your curiosity grew too big.

Before arriving to the mighty Goddess, your hands took a mind of their own, forcing you to take a peak at the box. If you were to officially wed your beloved Cupid, a little extra beauty would surely be helpful.

Your naïveté finally led you to your final moments, causing you to enter eternal sleep upon a small peek of the box's contents. Still slightly conscious, you laid in your lonesome, unable to move nor think.

In your final moments, all you could think of was your beautiful Cupid and how badly you had hoped to live for him. To live to love him once more.

It took Jungkook a few days after his mother's final warning to him to fully recover from his injury.

Being aware of his mother's anger towards you, his immediate thought upon gaining his energy back was to seek you out and rescue you from whatever threat his mother must've been holding over you. He was unsure if she had managed to find you, but he could not take the risk of waiting to find out, knowing your life was likely in danger.

It took interrogating a few servants in order to track you down, now making it his mission to save you from his mother's disdain.

When he had been informed of the endless grueling tasks you had taken on just for a chance to see him again, Jungkook's heart melted. His love for you had never gone away, but his hurt had blinded him as his wound debilitated him. Now fully recovered, he was able to realize that his endless adoration for you was mutual. Your stubborn desire to see him had not been born out of malice, but out of love for him. He understood now. Had he been denied of your beauty for a single day, he would've lost all sense of sanity.

You were currently on your final task, Jungkook had been informed. Worried about your safety, he set out to take the same journey, traveling to retrieve the box himself in case you had somehow not made it on your own. He grew impressed when he reached the end of the journey and found that you had already retrieved it and were currently on your way back.

Jungkook continued to travel in search of you, growing more worried by the second as he did not find you. The moment he finally encountered you, his wings gave out in him, causing him to fall due to the sudden worry the sight caused him.

You were lying on the ground, vulnerable and alone as you held the box against your chest. You must've opened it, he assumed, knowing your curiosity could easily get the best of you.

Running to you, he held you to his arms, throwing the box aside as he caressed your limp body in his arms.

"Oh, Psyche ... My beautiful, curious girl," he tsk'd, "Your curiosity became your undoing once more," he scolded lightheartedly, tears in his eyes at being able to hold you again.

Leaning down, he pressed a lone kiss to your lips, whispering against them as he did so, "Come back to me, my love. Let me make you mine again."

Within seconds your body regained its consciousness, leaving you disoriented for a few moments. Upon realizing Jungkook was holding you, a look of awe in his eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible to you as you cried into his chest.

"Oh, my beautiful girl," he wrapped himself around you, retracting his wings so they'd shield you both from the outside world, "Don't cry for me, my love. I'm here. I adore you more than I can possibly describe."

You wailed apologies into his chest, weaved with many confessions of your love for him. He took them all in with a smile on his face, refusing to let go of you as he memorized the shape of your body against his own.

"Love you so much, my sweet ruin. No one can ever harm you again," he assured, leaving endless kissed against your hair. He finally pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumbs as he looked into your eyes, "Let me take you home, my love."

"My beautiful girl ... How I missed you, fuck," groaned the pretty angel as he laid kisses down your neck.

He pushed you up against the wall the moment he flew you back to his recluse palace, rendering you speechless with just a few kisses. Jungkook wasted no time in showing you his love through words and touches, finally able to face you while he loved on you.

Sighing as he kissed down your neck, you molded yourself to his liking, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You were far too enamored by the God, feeling nothing but inhuman addiction to his touch.

"I adore you more than you could ever understand," he breathed out as his hand ripped apart your worn out gown, wanting to finally see you bare face to face. With a shuddering breath, he got his fill of your body, caressing at every inch his eyes went over, feeling the carnal need to memorize every curve.

Turning you around, he pressed you up to his front, grinding against you as he felt you up, groaning breathily into your ear.

"I have wanted your body since I first laid eyes on you," he whispered, hips slow and sensual in their grinding, "I can finally have you however I want. Oh, my angel, I'm going to render you useless by the time I'm done with you."

Your Cupid then grabbed you and led you to the bed, where you positioned yourself on your hands as knees as you usually did. Shaking his head, Jungkook stops you before you settle on the bed, instructing you to turn around and lay face up for him.

"No, beautiful. Turn to me. Want to see you. Want to make love to you while you look at me with those pretty eyes," Jungkook moaned against your lips.

There was not much warning before Jungkook slipped inside you. But it did not matter. Your body welcomed him with no struggle, having become far too thirsty for his touch in the weeks of your separation.

Out of all the times you'd made love, this was by far the most intimate. Jungkook love and caressed you with an inhuman infatuation in his eye, groaning any time you'd so much as look into his eyes as he pounded into you.

"Oh, my Psyche ... Love you so much ... Always loved you. Always needed y-you, oh fuck ..." his eyes closed in pleasure, pressing his face into your neck to breathe you in. His hips were incorrigible, with Jungkook being far too drunk with lust to have any finesse in his movements.

"My Jungkook ... My Cupid ... You pretty angel, I missed you so much, so- oh, so much!", you cried, your eyes becoming clouded with tears all while your nails dug into his back. You could feel the scars from which his wings would retract, caressing them softly.

"Oh ... Oh, angel, d-don't do that- My wings are too sensitive, my Psyche, d-don't ..."

This only encouraged you to do it more, caressing his erogenous zone softly and sensually, causing him to cry against your ear, whimpering in an ungodly way that had your eyes rolling back at just the sound.

Your pretty angel babbled against you, letting out nonsensical rambles about how much he loved you and how he could never let you go again. How he would breed you and give you an heir and bring you both to the land of the Gods with him.

Practically sobbing against each other, still grinding like mindless animals, the two of you found your highs together, continuing to stimulate each other throughout the entirety of your orgasms. Your mutual whimpers filled up the room, making the experience all the more erotic.

Finally, you two laid against each other, breathing heavily as you refused to let go of one another.

You were still beat and battered from your weeks in search of your Cupid, but that was the last thing on your mind. All you cared about was holding onto Jungkook and never letting go.

Holding you even closer against him, Jungkook wrapped himself around you, pulling out with a groan as he spooned you in his arms, breathing in your hair and humming against you. He reassured you about any worry you may have had in regards to your future together, assuring you that your injury to him had fully head and that he could never hold any type of negative feeling towards you for long.

You no longer would have to worry about his mother's schemes, Jungkook assured, as he would go to Zeus himself to grant you immunity amongst all Gods. He'd convert you into a Goddess yourself, he promised, so that he could give you a heavenly heir and grow old with you until eternity. Nothing in this world could ever separate Cupid from his beloved Psyche. Jungkook would never let anything keep him away from his one and only beloved.

"I adore you, my Psyche, my beautiful ruin. I will always protect you," he sighed one last time, eyes growing heavy as you turned around in his arms and cuddled against his warm chest.

"I love you my Cupid," you kissed at the small burn mark the oil of your lamp had left, humming against his chest.

You fell asleep calmly in each other's arms, knowing you'd wake up to an eternity of love between one another.

a/n: im sorry if the pacing seems all over the place but i promise this is how the original story goes 😭

to read short 3.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: afab reader, continuation and conclusion of the cupid and psyche lore/story (this is kinda like a pt. 2 honestly oops), impregnation, mentions of oral, jungkook is obsessed with reader its insane, pregnancy sex implied (but not really bc its after one day of the insemination lol), jungkook is a god so yk endless sex, smut, penetrative sex (like three times lol), etc.

wc: 639 (teaser); 3313 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, my beautiful Psyche," hummed Jungkook against you, stretching his body before cuddling further into you, absolute bliss in his voice.

After a night of extraneous love-making, Jungkook finally awoke in your arms, a smile instantly making its way onto his face at the remembrance of the previous night.

After having brought you back to the palace he built for you, he made love to you, finally able to look into your eyes as you both lost yourselves to the pleasure found in each other's touch. The thought of your gorgeous whines for him still made him shudder, having to will his boner away at the memory.

Then he thought about everything else that had happened since your separation.

He recalled all the trials you had gone through this past week, all to gain access to his heart, a heart that had belonged to you from the moment he laid eyes on you. It was hard not to feel immense guilt at knowing how badly you had struggled from the moment he left you alone in that palace, too hurt and stubborn to realize that your love for him would have you risking your life just for one more chance. In hindsight, he should've understood, specially considering that his own heart burned for you harshly enough for him to want to give up his Godly powers for you if he so had to.

Then he remembered the worst part of it all.

His mother was still seething with vengeance for you, not having found satisfaction in your death while completing her useless tasks. Jungkook knew that she never meant to even consider giving her blessing for the two of you to be together. It had all been a ruse to make you find your demise under the false pretense that you would somehow earn Jungkook's forgiveness by the end of it all.

What you didn't know was that Jungkook didn't need to forgive you. His love for you overpowered every other fleeting thought in his brain. One look from your remorseful eyes and he would be on his knees, begging you for forgiveness.

He pondered as he watched you sleep in his arms, blissful yet still wounded by your weeks of pain.

How shall he make up for all the suffering you endured while he recovered from his wound? How could he make amends for making you think for even one second that he'd dare try and live without you by his side?

His experience as a carnal lover had not prepared him for such feelings. There had been no training or preparation for him to understand the way you made his heart rush, the way you altered every aspect of his being.

All he could think about was how you were his beautiful Psyche and how ... how badly he wanted to put an heir in you.

The thought had seemed been sudden, but he had actually thought of it from the moment he found you waiting for him in bed that first night. You, full for him, manifesting the greatest form of love as you grew his seed inside you.

An heir would be the solution to all problems.

An heir would bring you an instant pass to the land of the Gods, forcing Zeus to turn you into a Goddess in order for you to birth a Godly child. It would also make his mother accept the gift he'd bring upon her, unable to deny a child created by the God of love himself. Lastly, this heir would also be his own gift to you – a showcase of his endless love for you and the future he was to create with you.

But most of all, it would quench the thirst Jungkook was currently feeling at the mere thought of marking you as his as humanly possible.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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rafesfavgirl · 5 months

Text

the palm of your freezing hand — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. this could technically be part 2 or 3, depending on how much of this little series you've read (or if you’re not into reading smut). either way, thank you for coming along for the ride. i hope you like it :)

❝ oh, goddamn my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ❞

pairing: friend!rafe x pogue!reader

context: it's been three weeks since you found out jj cheated on you, and a week since you hooked up with rafe.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: fwb situationship, mean!jj (just for the sake of the story, we all know he’s BABY), bitchy!kie (again, just for the story—i adore her), jealous!jj, slut shaming, a little bit of angst, a little bit of blood and violence, fluff. rafe being a menace too, lowkey

you sat on a log at a party in the boneyard—one that you let john b and pope convince you to go to (you felt bad for icing them out for almost three weeks now when they weren't the ones who screwed you over)—staring out towards the ocean in a red bikini top and a pair of jean shorts, sipping on some beer that john b had brought over to you in a red cup.

he was now occupied talking to some blonde touron, sitting up in a tree, while pope talked to some other girl by the keg, and jj and kie chilled with a few other pogues, his arm slung around her shoulder.

so much for claiming to love you—he was just on his knees begging you to forgive him last week. and now, he was here with your best friend—former best friend, anyway. the two of them really had no shame.

pulling your phone out of your pocket, you begin to text rafe.

you: please tell me you're on your way.

rafe: miss me already?

you roll your eyes at his response. last weekend, after your break up with jj, you made the somewhat idiotic decision to hook up with rafe at a kook party on figure eight. you're still not exactly sure how it happened, but the sex was good, so you've kinda formed a sort of friendship with him in a way—with benefits, of course.

the three dots appear again, signaling that he was typing something else, and you wait for the message to come through.

rafe: turn around.

you furrow your brow at the text, but do as you're told and turn around, only to find a smiling rafe standing over you—dressed in a ralph lauren, short-sleeve, white collared shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

"hey pretty girl," he greets you as you stand.

little did you know, jj was watching from afar, his eyes focused on the way you throw your arms around rafe's neck in a hug, while his hands trailed around your waist to press your body against him.

"what the fuck?" jj mutters beside kie, who snaps her head towards him.

"what's up?" she asked.

"what is he doing here?" jj felt heat rise in his chest, his eyes narrowing at you and rafe.

kie furrowed her brows at him in confusion before following his line of sight to you and rafe a good distance away, you playfully pushing against his chest with a giggle.

"shit," kie says. "i didn't see that coming."

"yeah that makes two of us," jj slams his empty cup down on the ground and stands up without another word, beelining straight for you and rafe.

"so this is why you wanted to break up," you hear jj's familiar voice fill your ears, but it wasn't sweet and sarcastic as usual—it was bitter.

you shift your eyes towards him, causing rafe to turn too, to see what or who had just pulled your attention from him.

"excuse me?" you asked.

"rafe cameron, y/n?" he snarled. "seriously? i thought you knew better than that."

"clearly i don't, considering i trusted you," you spat, causing a scowl to fall over his sharp features. "and by the way, we didn't break up because i wanted to be with rafe. we broke up because you cheated on me."

that makes rafe snap his head towards you—he knew that your relationship didn’t end on good terms, but you never really told him why. "he cheated on you?"

"with kiara."

a scoff mixed with a snicker leaves rafe's mouth as he looks at jj. "you're an even bigger idiot than i thought."

"look, shut the fuck up, man, a'ight?" jj motions a hand at him. "this isn't about you. this is about you." he turns to you again. "you're really slutting yourself up for this asshole?"

"better than slutting myself up for a cheater," you retort. "and in case you haven't noticed jj, we're broken up. what's it to you if i'm hooking up with someone else?"

"and she is, by the way," rafe throws jj a wink and smirk. "you really fucked up. i mean, really fucked up. the way she feels bro? i don’t know how you coul—"

"shut up, man," jj was getting riled up now, a hand coming up to push rafe back, a deep chuckle falling from rafe's lips as he used both his hands to push jj back.

that's enough to push your ex-boyfriend to the edge as he comes at rafe, causing him to trip over a skinny log as both of them tumble onto the sand. the noise from the tussling only pulls attention from everyone else, john b and pope immediately running over to break the two hot-headed blonds apart.

you really had a type, huh?

"what did you do?" kie comes up beside you, along with a few pogues, kooks, and tourons—who had now formed a makeshift half-circle around the scene.

you look at her, more pissed off at her accusation than rafe and jj fighting. "what makes you think i did anything?"

"you usually always do," she says.

you cross your arms and scoff. "you're one to talk."

"and what's that suppose to mean?"

"it means you were supposed to be my best friend, kiara," you tell her. “and not only did you screw our friendship over, but you did it by fucking my boyfriend. no wonder sarah cameron dropped your ass.”

she purses her lips at you, upset by your mentioning of sarah’s name. “don’t act as if this is just all on me,” she argued. “you were the one who weaseled your way in, and stole him from me.”

“stole him?” you asked, taken aback. she was the one who set you up with him in the first place. “you’ve clearly reached different levels of delusional.”

“you think i'm delusional?" she spat, crossing her arms. "you're hooking up with rafe cameron. do you really think you'll get him to fall for a pogue like you?"

before you could even answer, rafe separates the two of you, bumping into you both as jj pushes him back, and you reach out to steady him.

"you think i'm scared of you, man?" jj shouts at him, john b holding him back.

rafe chuckles and wipes at the little bit of blood beside his now busted lip with his thumb. "i think you should be."

"get your fucking boyfriend, y/n!" jj yells, his eyes shifting from rafe to you.

"you got it," you nod at him with a smile, just to piss him off more—rafe wasn't your boyfriend, but he didn't have to know that. "you wanna get out of here?" you tilt your head up at rafe, who turns his head towards you and smiles.

"lead the way, doll."

you do as he says, giving kie a small smirk as you walk past her and the makeshift crowd that had formed, everyone's eyes on the two of you.

"so… your boyfriend, huh?" rafe swings an arm around you and squeezes you to his side.

"chill, cameron," you laugh, pushing him away from you playfully. "i only said that to piss him off."

"so i'm just a toy to you then, is that what this is?" he asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as you both stop by his truck.

"that depends…" you trail off and turn to face him, your back resting against the passenger door of his truck. "am i just a toy to you?"

"i'm not sure yet," he shrugs, honestly. "i wouldn't have just taken a bloody lip and sand stains on my polo for anyone though."

you giggle and bring your thumb up to swipe at the beige-colored stain on his white shirt. "yeah, sorry 'bout that."

"no worries," he shakes his head, his eyes locking with yours. "i can think of one or two ways you could make it up to me."

"oh, is that so?" you kink a brow at him. "because i can tell you right now i don't have a hundred dollars to spare for a brand new ralph lauren polo shirt."

he leans a hand against his truck, beside your head, and closes the distance between you. "and who said that's what i wanted?"

you tilt your head to the side, an amused smile on your face. "then what did you have in mind?"

"let me take you out on date," he says. "a real one."

part 4.

writing rafe being soft for the reader is literally my favorite thing ever.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra

#rafe cameron #rafe #jj maybank #jj #rafe one shot #rafe fluff #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fluff #jealous jj #rafe cameron being boyfriend material #rafe x reader #cute rafe #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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thedreamlessnights · 5 months

Note

Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so

Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!

For Your Eyes Only

Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.

You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it.

The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing.

Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.

What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.

Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long.

The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.

A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.

Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”

Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path.

“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”

“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”

“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”

And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.

“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel.

You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face.

Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.

When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.

“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.

“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”

Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch.

“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”

“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”

But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.

Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now.

“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”

“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.

“Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.”

Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same.

Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.

“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”

By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel.

The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”

It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best.

Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.

The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too.

You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees.

Nothing. You find nothing.

“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”

“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?”

He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”

“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”

A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”

Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.”

“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”

“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”

The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.

“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.

“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”

“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”

You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud.

“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.

You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.

Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.

When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything.

Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”

But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound.

Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.

Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?

Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.

In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”

Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood.

“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”

Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”

“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?”

Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”

He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.

There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.

When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.

The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision.

You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?

Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.

“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”

You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.

“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.

He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.

He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.

Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind.

You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.

He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething.

And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.

After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief.

You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.

“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”

He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps.

You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him.

After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck.

Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.

One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.

When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.

Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.

“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”

“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.

“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”

“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.

And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.

You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it.

Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.

He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.

He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.

And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-

And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”

Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”

He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”

You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”

He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”

He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-

Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand.

You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.

Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again.

He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot.

For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.

You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.

“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”

And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.

“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.

“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment.

You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements.

Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.

You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble.

If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire.

He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.

Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”

You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.

“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”

Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals.

His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.

You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”

And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.

You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.

You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.

“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”

And, gods, all you can do is laugh.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #mywriting

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luvsupa · 3 months

Text

YOURE IN LOVE WITH PRINCE GOJO?

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to almost lovers to enemies (☹️), bully!gojo, love (ish)-hate relationship, gojos so confusing, ANGST, royalty, lots of tension, smut-ish (intense kissing), family dinner ruined, ayana is a bully, reader cries, soft gojo at the end. mdni.

w.c: 3.5k (woa)

a/n: thank you all so much for almost hitting 100 followers! tytyty for all the support too ! 🩵

read part 1 here! + likes and reblogs are very appreciative 🩵

part 3 here!

for the rest of the night, gojo zoned out of every conversation as you occupied his mind. he couldn’t find the will to enjoy the event, your words haunting him relentlessly. i'll see you inside, prince gojo.

he had dreaded this feeling since childhood, after overhearing that fateful conversation between your families. gojo had always masked his emotions, distracting himself from the pain by giving you the cold shoulder. but in reality, he was desperate to be near you.

“ruru? are you unwell? you don’t look so good,” ayana asked, her voice tinged with concern, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“i am well, just nervous about the big crowd,” gojo lied, his voice strained as he fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve. “enough of worrying,” he added, scanning the room, only to find his mother and yours conspicuously absent. shit, he thought, his anxiety mounting.

“baby, i’ll be right back. i think i’m missing a family discussion,” gojo said, pecking her on the lips before rushing out of the ballroom, his heart pounding in his chest.

gojo's heavy footsteps echoed ominously down the long hallway, his urgency concerning, causing guards and servants to glance at him. he burst through the double doors of the drawing room, startling his and your mother, who were sitting opposite each other on blue velvet couches.

“'toru! you should be with the others,” his mother said, her eyes scanning him for any signs of distress.

“what were you just discussing?” he demanded, his voice barely controlled, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. the two women exchanged uneasy glances, sensing his agitation.

“dearest, this conversation is really between me and your mother,” your mother said, trying to calm gojo as his glare grew more intense, his jaw tightening.

“then include me,” he said, stepping closer, his presence menacing. “you are in my estate, a guest in my home. you will include me in this conversation, or you will leave immediately,” he commanded, his voice dripping with authority, as if speaking to a mere commoner.

“satoru!” the queen exclaimed, standing abruptly, shocked by his audacity.

“very well. we have found a nobleman worthy enough to marry my daughter. we were discussing when they should meet,” your mother revealed, her voice steady but cautious.

his heart sank at her words. “that's why you all came as a family? to marry her off? all the times you visited were simply to find her someone to wed?” his voice rose, trembling with barely suppressed rage as he pieced together the painful puzzle. his mother scolded him for his behavior, but he continued, “I do not approve.”

“satoru, no disrespect, but you have no say in this! she has already reached adulthood; being married is a priority!” your mother said calmly, her words striking him like a physical blow. gojo stormed out of the room, the same despair from his youth crashing over him. the memory of overhearing your parents arranging your marriage had tormented him for years, but now, knowing the deal was sealed, the helplessness was unbearable.

he stormed off in the opposite direction from the ballroom, his steps quickening as he ascended the stairs to where the bedrooms were located. breathless, he found himself standing at your door, hand mid-air about to knock. his heart ached, praying you would open the door and tell him you weren’t going through with the marriage.

gojo clenched his fist, lowering it to his side, his fingers twitching with frustration, a deep sense of powerlessness washing over him.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

“good morning, dear. did you sleep well?” gojo’s mother asked as he entered the breakfast room, ignoring her greeting. your mother and the queen were seated at the end of the table, with you sitting across from ayana. the empty chair beside her was likely where gojo would sit.

his breakfast was already plated, and he made his way to the chair beside ayana, who looked excited to see him. the room was filled with an almost unbearable silence, broken only by the scraping of forks and knives against plates.

“the ball was very beautiful, mrs. gojo,” you said, attempting to break the tension. “I had forgotten how much I enjoy attending your events.” you smiled warmly at the queen, feeling gojo’s eyes on you.

“ah, thank you, dear. It’s nice to know someone enjoyed it more than others,” she replied, her words carrying an edge you couldn’t quite grasp.

“I also enjoyed it, mrs. gojo!” ayana chimed in, trying to outdo you. “I especially loved the orchestra and ruru’s welcome speech,” she continued, wrapping her arm possessively around gojo’s. the queen thanked ayana for her kind words, but the tension in the room still remained.

“I have to ask, where have father and the king gone? I’ve barely seen them around the estate,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. the queen immediately made eye contact with your mother, and gojo seemed to catch on.

“they are discussing an important upcoming event with other parties,” your mother said, her voice tight.

“what event?” gojo quickly intervened, his tone demanding, drawing all eyes to him.

“a royal event,” the queen said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep her composure.

“hmm, a royal event for whom? If her father is part of the discussion, she should also be aware, right, mother?” gojo challenged, taking a bite of his food. the room felt like it was shrinking, the awkwardness growing. You felt completely out of place. what is his problem?

“satoru, you are asking too many questions for your own good! It’s too early to be this curious,” the queen snapped, her voice unusually harsh. you were shocked; she hadn’t addressed gojo with the usual nickname ‘toru. had they gotten into an argument?

you glanced around the room, noticing ayana poking at her food, clearly uncomfortable. the silence that followed was excruciating, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

with that, gojo stood up abruptly and left the room, his shoes clacking loudly against the hardwood floor, leaving all the women in stunned silence to finish their breakfast.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

time has passed since the awkward breakfast you had in the morning, and you wish you hadn’t brought up your concerns about your father’s whereabouts. you had no intention of causing any arguments, and rethinking what had happened makes you cringe. sitting in the drawing room, writing in your journal is the only thing that gives you peace.

just as you start to enjoy your silence, you hear laughter and footsteps approaching the doors to your quiet space. damnit. the double doors open, revealing gojo and ayana giggling together, her arm wrapped around his.

“oh! we didn’t think anyone was in here..” ayana says in a fake tone. you stare at them in utter annoyance, feeling like you can’t find any time alone. “you wouldn’t mind if we joined you! you look pretty lonely here,” she says, walking closer to the royal blue couches. you close your journal as they make themselves comfortable.

“what are you writing in there? ways you can seduce me?” gojo says, walking closer to you. you stare at him in shock from the wild accusation, made worse by ayana’s obnoxious laugh as if it were the funniest joke. catching you off guard, ayana snatches your journal from your hand, your reflexes too late to stop her. she hands it to gojo for him to read.

“ruru, maybe you can find another confession of her undying love for you,” she says. you attempt to grab your journal back, but gojo holds it above your head. fuck!

you’re practically chasing the two of them around the room as he flips through pages, looking for something to embarrass you. you repeatedly ask for it back. “ooo, this is interesting, titled, ‘forbidden love,’” gojo says as they both burst out in laughter. he begins to read your personal words. you quickly reach up, grabbing one end of the book as he grips the other.

“let go, prince gojo,” you warn. he fake pouts, “we’re not on a first-name basis? alright, my lady,” he taunts, your blood boiling in anger.

without thinking, you raise your hand and slap him hard across the face. ouch!

the laughter comes to a complete stop as he stares at you in shock, releasing his grip on your book, causing you to grab it back- hold it tightly against your chest. ��you bitch! how dare you slap the prince!” ayana exclaims, attempting to claw at you, but gojo holds her back, his cheek turning red from the slap.

“I don’t know what sick and evil games you like to play, but I will not be the one you two toy with,” you declare, your voice steady despite the anger coursing through you. with a firm grip on your belongings, you turn on your heel and stride towards the door, making your way to another quiet place.

—-

your entire stay at the gojo estate feels like a horror house. day by day, you are taunted by both gojo and ayana, their relentless torment threatening to break you.

just after your altercation in the drawing room, you receive a letter informing you there will be a family dinner, with the king and your father in attendance. as you prepare, making sure your gown is perfect in the mirror, you hear a quiet knock at your door. expecting your mother, you open it to find gojo standing there.

“look who decided to finally show some effort,” he drawls, eyes scanning your attire. “trying to impress someone?”

your irritation flares, cheeks flushing with annoyance. “what do you want, gojo? here to read more of my journal?” he straightens up, entering your room without invitation.

“mmh, as much as i would love to, your mother sent me. apparently, you need some jewelry your father gave you,” he remarks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “or maybe she thought you’d need help with getting dressed.”

you cross your arms, defiant. “i don’t need your help with anything.” he smirks, stepping closer. “such a shame, but i’m here. why not make use of me?” your heart races as you snatch the jewelry box from his hands. before you can open it, his grip tightens on your wrist, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “now, now,” he murmurs, “let me.”

you attempt to pull away, but he holds firm. “i can manage on my own,” you grit out. ignoring your protest, he takes the box from you entirely.

“turn around,” he commands softly. you comply, facing the mirror. he steps closer, his breath ghosting over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. you’re watching his every move as he delicately removes the necklace from its case, the glint of jewels catching the light.

“hold still,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. you obey, your breath catching in your throat as his presence is overwhelming. he drapes the necklace around your neck, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

as he fastens the clasp, his fingers linger on your skin, sending a rush of heat through your veins. you feel him staring at you through the mirror, intense and probing, as if daring you to resist him. through the reflection in the mirror, you meet his eyes, a silent battle of wills passing between you.

“there,” he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “perfect.”

the air crackles with tension as neither of you moves, locked in a silent dance of desire and defiance. you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, his presence engulfing you entirely. every nerve in your body is on edge, anticipation coursing through your veins as you struggle to maintain your composure.

“you know,” he whispers, his voice a seductive murmur in your ear, “seeing you like this… so obedient for once. I wonder what else I can make you do.” his words send a jolt of heat straight to your core, igniting a fire within you that you struggle to contain.

before you can respond, you feel his lips press softly on the sensitive base of your neck, a soft caress that sends a wave of desire crashing over you. a gasp escapes your lips as you crave his touch.

you tilted your neck instinctively, inviting more of his attention, despite your attempts to maintain composure. a soft whimper escaped you, as he smirked against your skin. the room seemed to shrink around you, the tension between you and gojo intensified. every nerve of your body was on edge as you struggled to control your emotions.

in a bold move, your hand reaches back, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. and at that, he whines at the grip you had on his hair. as your intense gaze continues through the mirror and him kissing you, everything hits you. what are you doing? this is gojo- the man you hate, the one who invaded your privacy, the one who made your life miserable. with a sudden clarity, you pulled away, turning around and moving back to create a distance between you two as you look at his flushed cheeks.

“mm- you looked like you enjoyed yourself sweetheart, especially for someone who claims they hate me,” he teased. you scoff, trying to regain your composure. “this can never happen again.” you sternly say. he chuckled softly as he looks down at you, “you don’t seem too sure,” he taunts.

“you’re unbelievable,” you confront, making his brows rise in curiosity. “one day you torment me and make me feel like shit, and the next you want to kiss me!” you nearly shout. he stares into your eyes as you’re so desperately trying to find some answers for the way he acts.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” he says, ignoring your distress as he walks out of your room, making you even more mad and confused. what the hell is wrong with him today?

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you make your way towards the dining room, your eyes catch sight of your father in the hallway, and quickly to catch up with him, giving him in a warm hug. “I've missed you, father! thank you for this beautiful necklace,” you express, gesturing towards the shimmering diamond pendant.

"dearest, while the necklace looks stunning on you, I'm afraid I did not gift it to you," your father gently remarks, his words sending a pang of confusion through you. If my father didn’t gift me the necklace, then does that mean—

“the food is being served,” gojo's interruption jolts you out of your thoughts as you slowly turn towards him. your father strides towards the doors leading into the dining room, leaving you standing there, trying to piece together the puzzle before you.

did gojo gift me the necklace and then falsely claim my father gave it to me? Is this part of some twisted game to kiss me? suddenly, a hand on your back startles you, and you jump, your mind racing with unanswered questions.

"apologies, honey, I didn’t mean to startle you. are you not joining us inside?" your mother's voice soothes your confusion.

"mother... did you send gojo to my room earlier with this necklace?" you slowly question, fingers grazing the shimmering diamond adorning your neck.

"no, dear. I was busy with my own preparations. but let's not keep everyone waiting. we should head inside; we might be running late," she responds, gently guiding you into the grand dining room. he gifted me the necklace.

you and your mother both enter the shiny dining hall, the sparkling ambiance surrounding everyone. your father and the king occupy seats at opposite ends, with their wives seated adjacent to them. you find yourself directly in front of the queen, with gojo and ayana beside, as always.

as the food is served to each of us individually, the room fills with the lively chatter of the adults. amidst the chatter, the queen’s voice breaks through as she calls your name, capturing the attention of everyone present.

“have you considered marriage now that you've reached adulthood?” she inquires, putting you in a delicate position as all eyes turn to you, much like last time.

“not recently. I find comfort in the fact that my friends aren't married either, so I see no rush,” you respond, hearing an awkward chuckle from your mother and seeing concerned glances from the king and queen. It's another awkward moment, just great.

“are you lonely because your fantasies with satoru were crushed when you were rejected?” ayana’s words slice through the air like a knife, her smirk dripping with venom. you choke on your food, the room falling into a stunned silence as all eyes fixate on you, hungry for answers.

“Is this true?” your mother’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone heavy with disappointment. mentally cursing ayana for thrusting you into this predicament over a mere childhood crush, you struggle to find your voice amidst the mounting pressure.

“mother, I-it was simply a childhood crush-“

“then what are these sinful fantasies you’ve written in your journal?” she interjects, her words igniting the already heated atmosphere. your throat tightens as you meet the shocked gazes of those around you, a lump forming as you grapple for an explanation.

“that’s— that’s not true, ayana,” you manage to utter. but just as the situation couldn’t worsen, Ayana brings up a fake torn page. from my journal? no. my pages do not look worn out.

In the midst of the chaos, gojo’s expression mirrors your shock, his eyes widening in concern as he looks at you, his usual confidence momentarily faltering.

"just look at the disgusting things she wrote about satoru, my partner... shame on her," ayana spits out with a mock pout, giving the forged paper into your mother's hands. why is she setting me up?

tears run down your cheeks, your heart pounding in your chest as your mother's eyes bore into you with utter disgust and disappointment.

"enough, ayana," gojo's deep voice says, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and concern as he watches the scene unravel. but ayana ignores his warning.

you're paralyzed by a whirlwind of emotions, fear and frustration gripping you as you struggle to defend yourself against the false accusations.

"honestly, it's disgraceful. a whore, if you ask me, but who am I to—"

"I said enough, ayana!" gojo's voice booms through the room, the force of his words sending shockwaves through your family dinner. with a clenched jaw, he slams his fist down on the table, the sound echoing in the silence as he rises abruptly, his chair crashing to the ground behind him.

"r-ruru? I was just—" ayana's voice trembles, but gojo's fury cuts through her excuse.

"get the fuck out!" He angrily yells, as tears are forming in her eyes as she ignores him, remaining seated.

with a frustrated tsk, gojo strides across the room, his steps purposeful as he harshly grabs your arm, pulling you away from the torment. shock courses through you, your humiliation fresh and raw in front of your family.

gojo's grip on your hand is tight as you numbly follow him, your mind clouded with pain and disbelief. silent sobs leave your body as he leads you away, his own heart heavy with guilt at seeing you broken, especially because of him.

eventually, you arrive at a grand double doors with gold initials, “G.S,” engraved into the white-painted wood. as the doors swing open, you step into his ginormous chamber.

he strides across the room, his steps echoing against the polished marble floors, before crouching down to scoop you up in his arms. with effortless strength, he carries you in a bridal embrace, placing you gently onto the comfort of his king-sized bed.

as you sink into the softness, drained and defeated, he lowers himself to meet your gaze, his hand tenderly caressing your tear-stained face.

“my baby,” he softly coos, his voice laced with concern as he gazes upon you in your current state, hating to see you so broken.

“‘toru,” you whisper the nickname he despises, not to make him upset, but he just smiles.

“I hate you,” you choke out between sobs, tears streaming down your face. yet, he wipes them away gently, nodding in silent understanding.

“why do you do this to me? why do you despise me so much?” your words are muffled as you struggle to formulate words.

he takes a deep breath, wanting to tell you everything, how he’s feeling- how The very idea of you being with another man feels like a dagger piercing his heart.

“I cannot tell you yet. but one day, I promise,” he whispers, cradling your face tenderly in his hands before pressing a gentle kiss to your trembling pout.

“sleep here tonight. I’ll resolve everything,” he reassures you, his voice filled with determination and love.

you nod in understanding as he leaves you alone in his dimly lit room as your slowly doze off into slumber, hearing the chaos erupting downstairs.

part 3 here!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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oddinary4bts · 4 months

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 2 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: mentions of The Incident, Jungkook is a menace. curses, mentions of a character getting cheated on, alcohol, mentions of ghosting, explicit content: sex toy (vibrator), they do it in a public space (an empty lab), degradation, sir, thigh grinding, dom!Hobi, he's a bit of a dick, pussy slapping, breast/nipple play, jerking off, praise, fingering, ass slapping, protected sex, anal fingering, mentions of mouth fucking, masturbation (female and male), OC has some dirty little fantasies about her older brother's best friend, squirting, she overhears Jungkook watching porn

☆word count: 10.2k

☆a/n: new week new chapter!! enjoy reading everyone <3 thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, January 20th

You wake up with a start, heart beating out of your chest. It takes you a moment to collect yourself until you realize that you were actually woken up by a sound. It takes you a moment longer before you understand that the sound is Jungkook cursing.

You frown, glancing towards his wall in the hopes that he’ll shut up, and it’s almost like he hears you: he dwindles into silence after a few seconds, and you’re stuck wondering why he was cursing like that in the first place. You don’t think you’ll have the answer anytime soon, so you lie back down – when did you even sit up?

You shut your eyes, though it seems sleep will evade you again. Indeed, your focus is zeroed in on the sounds coming from Jungkook’s room, probably of him getting ready for work. It also makes you realize that you really do need to go to the bathroom, so you decide to head there before actually going back to sleep.

You get out of the bathroom in time with Jungkook getting out of his room, and he stops in the doorway, eyes widening as he watches you across the living room. You’re only wearing an oversized sweater, and you don’t miss the way his gaze dips to your legs once before returning to your face.

Only then does he break into a smirk, leaning against the door as he folds his arms on his chest. “Long night?” he asks teasingly.

You know you’ve flushed red when he chuckles darkly. “Not really, no,” you choke out.

“You’re cute when you blush, peach,” he jokes, glancing towards your room. “He’s still in there?”

You don’t know if it’s because of the way your face falls, but Jungkook’s smirk dies down, concern moving on his features instead. You hate it, so you quickly say, “He left last night, you didn’t hear?”

His tongue plays with his piercing for a moment. “Not gonna lie, I put earbuds in the moment I started hearing you guys.”

Your blush deepens, and you’d facepalm if the gesture in and of itself wasn’t so embarrassing. Instead, you look away from him, glancing at the front door as you replay Hoseok leaving in your mind. “Sorry,” you apologize.

You don’t even know what for. Your goal was to make Jungkook uncomfortable, so why do you feel like shit now that he’s talking to you about it?

“It’s fine,” he says, pushing up from the door frame as he walks towards the kitchen. “Though I didn’t think you were like that, peach.”

You furrow your brows, and you can’t help but follow him into the kitchen. “What do you mean?”

He’s got his head in the fridge, and he straightens, holding a protein shake in his hands. He takes a sip of it, eyes finding yours, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he kicks the fridge door shut.

“Paper-thin walls, remember?”

You purse your lips, cocking your head to the side. “Thought you said you put earbuds on?”

His tongue pokes his cheek, and he looks away from you, chuckling in disbelief. When he remains silent, you spy his ear turning pink, and you hold in a smirk.

“I did,” he says. “A little too late.”

“Are you saying you listened to us?” you let out, gasping in fake outrage.

“Peach.” His doe eyes slide back to you, and they pierce right into your soul as your gazes connect. “I know you’ve been listening to me. If you were just trying to make me jealous, you can say so.”

Your mouth falls open, and every word in the dictionary flies out the window as you just stare at him, embarrassment slowly creeping in. Very slowly, its fingers licking up your spine until they’re clutching your heart.

“Why would I want to make you jealous?” you ask, voice suddenly far less confident and a lot smaller.

He takes another sip. “You tell me.”

You don’t know what to tell him. All that you know is that you wish last night never happened, and you wish Jungkook would stop looking at you. He looks effortlessly good, even so early in the morning, and really, it’s unfair.

Unfair that you’re stuck living with him for months without Taehyung being here.

When he understands that you’re not going to say anything else, Jungkook shrugs, glancing at the time on his phone. He meets your startled gaze again, before saying, “I have to head to work.” He pauses, tongue playing with his piercing and then continues, “If you don’t want me having sex here, it’d be fair if you didn’t have it either.”

You nod once, and when he walks towards you, you quickly step out of the way. It makes him laugh and he stops right in front of you, head tilted down. His hair isn’t styled back this morning, and it falls in his eyes, hiding their innocence from you.

Because, for some reason, you’ve always thought he has innocent eyes. You know better than to think his soul is innocent, though.

“Unless you’d like me to keep doing it?” he asks, voice low and husky. It makes your spine tingle, especially as he adds, “You sure sounded like you liked it last time.”

So he was aware of the Incident. You flush furiously crimson, and you refuse to meet his gaze. But when one of his fingers touches your chin ever so lightly to make you tilt your head back, you’re too weak to resist.

“Don’t be embarrassed, peach,” he purrs. “I was pretty turned on myself last night.”

Your lips part as your gaze meets his, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your mouth once.

“I won’t do it again,” you say, voice shaking a little.

It clearly isn’t what Jungkook wanted you to say because he frowns, taking a step away from you. If he’s aware that he’s got your heart racing in your chest, he doesn’t let it show.

“Noted,” he answers curtly, and he walks out of the kitchen without saying anything else.

You don’t move, a trembling hand going over your chest as if it’ll calm down the beats of your heart. Evidently, it doesn’t do anything, and you listen to Jungkook as he puts a coat on, before going out the door.

You think you weren’t breathing until the front door shuts behind him, and even then, you’re not sure you’re breathing at all. It takes everything in you to be able to walk back to your room, and you sit on your bed, eyes darting to your phone.

The screen is lit up, and you quickly grab it to see you received a couple of texts while you were sleeping, and another one just now. That last one is from Hoseok, and you immediately open the notification to see what he sent.

[9:02 am] Hobi: hey, sorry for last night. I feel like a dick for leaving like that.. any chance I can make it up to u today?

You purse your lips, right as relief washes through you. Because no matter how much you agree with the fact that you two shouldn’t do feelings, his leaving so quickly made you feel used. It’s also a good distraction from what just happened with Jungkook, which you reckon you need.

[9:04 am] You: no worries I get it. What do u wanna do

You turn off your phone, grabbing your clothes to take a quick shower. Mostly because you don’t want to text him too quickly, but also because you haven’t showered since before the party yesterday, and you usually always shower before going to bed.

You comb your hair when you get out of the shower, wrapping it in a clean towel before heading back to your room. Even then, you don’t touch your phone, instead busying yourself with putting your dirty clothes away in a hamper. You plop down on your bed, thoughts going back to the conversation with Jungkook, and you feel a coil tightening at the bottom of your stomach.

Because you’re only now realizing that he was hitting on you. He was clearly hitting on you, in his own sick and twisted way. And the worst part is, just thinking about it makes you feel turned on…

You can’t wait for Taehyung to be back from his semester abroad.

Thursday, January 24th

Your biochemistry class is boring. Nabi is dozing off next to you, and you took a couple of pictures already that you shared in the group chat you now have.

Indeed, you ended up hanging out with Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi, Nabi and Ria on Sunday morning, getting brunch together, and for convenience Hoseok created a group chat.

It’s been lively since then, with everyone sending their share of memes and funny pictures. Except Yoongi – Yoongi seems like he’s a ghost in the conversation, except for the laughing reacts that he’s put on some of the memes. The picture of Nabi quickly gains you a lot of laughing emojis, and Namjoon sends,

[11:24 am] Joonie: Yah she should pay attention if she wants good grades!

You laugh-react to Namjoon’s message but don’t say anything, though you know that Nabi is going to have to talk about it for the next fifty days. You then try to focus on the class, watching the minutes go by on the clock by the door more than anything. You’re struggling to stay awake, eyes heavy with sleep, but you manage to make it through the end of class without fully falling asleep. When the professor finally dismisses the class, you shake Nabi awake, laughing as you notice she’s drooled on the desk.

“Gosh,” you say, pointing at it. “Who were you dreaming of?”

Nabi blinks, a little confused, but her cheeks still turn red. “No one.”

You gather your things as you get up, throwing her a no-bullshit look. She ignores you, shrugging her shoulders like the little angel that she is, and then you make your way to the cafeteria, Nabi in tow. You meet with Ria, who’s finished her classes for the day – you’re unlucky, you still have another one in the afternoon. You sit together, chatting about everything and nothing, the conversation slowly inching towards Namjoon. You’re not surprised, and you tune it out as you work on a lab report.

“Hobi!” Ria yells happily, motioning at someone.

As much as you and Hoseok decided to be friends, you still feel a little awkward as he makes his way towards you, sitting next to Nabi across from you. “How are you girls doing?” he asks, but his eyes linger on you.

“Fantastic,” Nabi answers. “Though, not looking forward to the genetics class this afternoon.”

“Come on.” Hoseok laughs, shaking his head. “That’s the easiest class of the first year.”

“Still boring,” Nabi counters. “I don’t know how I’ll stay awake.”

“Bitch,” you let out, chuckling. “You were sleeping all morning.”

She shrugs her shoulders innocently, like she had in the class a moment ago. “Didn’t sleep last night.”

Hoseok looks down at the table, a knowing look painting his features, and Ria narrows her gaze at Nabi.

“Why?” she asks. “You left the library before Y/n and I did.”

Nabi purses her lips, cheeks tinting pink. Hoseok still sports the knowing smirk, and you furrow your brows.

Did something happen between them?

“I just couldn’t sleep,” Nabi answers carefully.

At that, Hoseok snorts, finally looking towards her. “I know someone else that couldn’t sleep last night.”

Now, Nabi turns crimson.

“Did something happen between you guys?” you blurt.

Hoseok looks startled, and Nabi bursts out laughing. “What the fuck?” she says.

“Namjoon was speaking to someone on the phone all night.”

Hoseok’s input has your eyes widen, quite at the same time as Ria replies, “His girlfriend, I presume?”

It is disapproving, and awkwardness fills the space between you all. Nabi’s eyes drop to the table, ashamed. “I mean… he was just helping with some homework.”

Ria scoffs. “So that’s what you do when I’m not at the dorm?”

Indeed, Ria ended up coming over to your place, mostly because she didn’t want you to walk home alone so late after your trip to the library. She slept in Taehyung’s bed and went home right when you woke up to shower and change before her class.

“It was nothing!” Nabi insists. “Just talking.”

Ria rolls her eyes, before getting up and grabbing her stuff. “Whatever.”

She storms away, and you look at her disappearing form, gaze wide, before looking back at Nabi and Hoseok. Hoseok looks like he wishes to disappear through the floor, and Nabi is rubbing a hand on her forehead.

You know exactly what happened. Ria was cheated on in her last relationship, and needless to say, it’s fucked her up a little.

“Just talking?” you repeat.

Nabi meets your gaze, clearly looking for salvation. “I promise, nothing happened.”

Hoseok clears his throat, and both of you look towards him. “Namjoon and his girlfriend broke up last weekend.”

Nabi looks far more surprised than you, if that’s possible. Clearly, Namjoon didn’t tell her.

“They did?”

Hoseok nods, sparing you a glance before he continues, “It’s been a long time coming. They’ve been long distance for over a year, and… yeah.”

“Oh,” Nabi voices. Her eyes drop to the table, where her half-eaten salad is still waiting for her. “I should find Ria and tell her.”

She nods once as if she needs to convince herself, and then she quickly puts her stuff away. It dawns on you that you’re soon going to be left alone with Hoseok, and you try to meet Nabi’s gaze, try to find an excuse as to why you should go with her. But you reckon she and Ria probably need to speak about it without you, for the sake of their friendship.

Nabi waves goodbye when she’s done picking up her stuff, and then she’s walking away, following in Ria’s previous footsteps until she’s out of the cafeteria.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, and you focus on your laptop screen as if it’s going to help, but it offers no salvation. Especially not as Hoseok is looking at you over the screen, eyes going a little dark as his features turn somber.

You gulp before meeting his gaze. “What’s up?”

He wets his lips, glancing at the seats vacated by your friends. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you let out. “It’s okay, it’s whatever.”

He nods once, and as your attention returns to your computer, he fishes a sandwich out of his tote bag. He starts eating, and you fear the heavy silence is going to make you crazy, especially as you can feel his eyes on you while you type away.

“Everything okay?” you ask, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Want to skip genetics?” he answers, voice lower than you expected it to be.

For a reason unknown, it has your insides turning white hot.

“I shouldn’t.”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

You entirely thought he was going to argue, so you can’t help but furrow your brows as you meet his gaze. “What?”

He sits back, tilting his head to the side as he surveys you. As he remains silent, you feel yourself heating up even more. The danger in his eyes is enticing, and you reckon you probably have enough time before class to find a quiet place around campus.

“The class is in forty-five minutes,” you innocently say.

Hoseok grins. “Plenty of time, don’t you think?”

“I haven’t eaten,” you admit, pursing your lips.

“If you sit at the back of the class, no one will care if you eat.”

You know he’s right. And mostly, you know he doesn’t even need to convince you. You’ve been hot and bothered since last Saturday, as you’ve been too scared to use your vibrator again after you realized Jungkook heard you.

So when Hoseok admits he’s got the keys to one of the labs, you don’t hesitate before putting your computer away, following him as he leads the way.

“I’ve never…” you start, and then you laugh awkwardly.

By the time Hoseok says, “You’ve never what?”, you’re out of the cafeteria.

“Never done anything on campus.”

He winks at you. “Glad to know I’ll be the first.”

It makes you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but you don’t say anything as he guides you to the elevator. Another student is already waiting in front of it, and she grins at Hoseok as he stops next to her.

“Hoba!” she lets out. “I thought you had the day off today.”

He loosely hugs her before replying. “Yeah, had to come to hand an essay to Professor Evans.”

The girl glances at you. You barely recognize her, though you’re pretty sure you’ve seen her at some parties. She greets you, and you offer her a smile before she turns to Hoseok and they strike up a conversation about said essay.

She’s someone from his class, apparently, and they chat for the whole elevator ride until she exits to head wherever it is that she is going. It leaves you alone with Hoseok, and it takes all of one second before the air fills with tension again, especially as his hand brushes yours.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, voice low.

You wet your lips, meeting his dark gaze. “No worries,” you reply.

He nods, and to your surprise, he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. It makes you freeze in place, as his fingers linger on your cheek. His gaze drops to your lips, and if it wasn’t for the elevator dinging, the doors sliding open, you’re convinced he would have kissed you then and there.

Instead, his hand falls to the side, and he struts out of the elevator. You quickly follow him before the doors have time to close, and it takes about another minute before you finally reach the lab.

Hoseok glances around, making sure the hallway is empty before he unlocks the door. He pushes it open for you to walk in, and you enter the cool darkness, eyes sighing in relief.

Indeed, for some reason, you’ve always found the neon lights of the hallway to be too aggressive for your eyes.

The lab is dark, the only light being the one from behind the closed blinds. The door doesn’t have a window, and Hoseok closes it behind him, quickly locking it again. You scan your surroundings – there’s an area with white coats to your left, and to your right there are empty shelves where you imagine students leave their bags when they have a class in this lab. You drop your stuff there, before turning towards Hoseok again.

“Aren’t there cameras in here?” you ask.

He walks towards you, towering over you as he puts his tote bag next to your stuff. “The one that is supposed to film the white coats is dead,” he informs you.

You gulp as one of his long fingers finds your chin. He tilts your head back, before leaning in to press his lips against yours once. He barely kisses you, lips ghosting on your jaw before he aims for your neck. You tilt your head to the side, breath hitching in your throat, but he stills next to your ear.

“How do you know?” you ask breathlessly.

You think you can hear the smirk in his voice when he replies, “Seokjin got in trouble once right here. Someone saw him and his girlfriend come in, but they couldn’t see anything on the cameras so they let him go.”

He lightly tugs at your earlobe. “They haven’t changed the camera since then?”

“No,” Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. “Or if they have, whoever is behind the security desk has had a couple of shows through the months.”

You let out a breathy sound as he sucks a spot underneath your ear. “Are you saying you’ve fucked some girls here?”

“Maybe?” He pauses to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck, down to the collar of your shirt. “Is that a problem?”

Not at all. In truth, you don’t give a shit if he’s been with other people. You would assume he was – he’s an attractive man after all. If you were into him for more than just sex, maybe you’d be insulted, but right now, all you can think about is that he’s about to fuck you senseless.

“No,” you finally reply.

His teeth pull at your shirt, and then he straightens. “Come.”

You let him grab your hand, and he pulls you to where the white coats are. He pushes you into a corner, glancing behind him. You can see the camera over his shoulder, and you can only hope that it is indeed dead, because he pushes his knee between your legs as he faces you again.

“You’re such a slut,” he says against your lips. Your eyes close from the sudden proximity, and you await his next words as your insides burn. “Wanting me to fuck you here, where anyone could come in.”

You’d tell him he’s the slut, considering he’s the one that brought you here, but all you can do is grab at his shoulders when he sucks on your lower lip. You moan as his knee pushes further between your legs, thigh pressing against your pussy, and you instinctively grind, looking for some friction on your clit.

Hoseok chuckles darkly, and he straightens again.

“So fucking desperate.” He tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “Should I punish you some more?”

Your mouth is parted as you breathe in and out quickly, eyes a little round. “Why?”

“Have you learned your lesson last weekend?”

You gulp, nodding once.

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

He cocks an eyebrow, clearly waiting for more.

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks, stealing a sudden heated kiss on your lips. You moan as his hands grab at your hips, forcing you to grind on his thigh again. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, and you feel yourself go weak in the knees as he keeps you going.

“Wait,” you breathe after a moment of you fucking his thigh. He pulls away from where he buried his face in your neck, questions in his eyes. “It hurts with the fabric…” you trail off as he once again cocks an eyebrow.

“And? You think you’ve been good enough for me to take off your clothes?”

“Hobi,” you whine, and he smirks before kissing you again.

He removes his leg from between yours, hands staying on your hips. Yours move from his shoulders to the back of his neck so you can pull him closer, and he pushes you against the wall. He grunts in the kiss when you suck on his tongue, and his fingers find a home over your clothes, right against your pussy. He slaps it, hard, and you moan when his other hand sneaks under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Please fuck me.”

He chuckles, nodding his head. “Oh, I’ll fuck you good. You won’t be able to walk to your class after.”

That only turns you on even more, and you think you’re melted lava now, burning bright red as you bubble away under Hoseok’s heated touch. Getting tired of the fabric of your bra, he pushes it up, until your breasts are free and he’s able to pinch your nipple, hard.

You moan, and he pushes his tongue in your mouth, finding yours as he laps at you.

You’re soaking your panties. At this point, you’re convinced you’re also soaking through your pants, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Hoseok has always been able to make you do whatever it is that he wants, and you don’t think it’ll ever change. Last weekend was proof enough of that.

“Take off your pants,” he commands as he steps back.

Your arms fall aimlessly to your side, but you’re quick to comply, unbuttoning your pants as Hoseok busies himself with his belt. He’s quicker than you, hands steadier than yours, and he’s freed his cock from his pants before you have time to push your pants down your legs. He strokes himself under your watchful gaze, head cocked to the side.

“I’m so fucking hard for you,” he comments, and he sounds a little surprised.

As if he didn’t expect the little action between you two to have been enough for him to get there. You reckon you aren’t surprised, especially not as you feel how wet you are once your pants and underwear are off.

The cool air of the lab makes you shiver, but Hoseok barely gives you time to realize it before he pushes a hand between your legs, collecting your juices at your entrance before bringing his fingers to your mouth.

“Taste yourself.”

You obey, and you wrap your lips around his two digits, tongue flicking at the pads. He’s still stroking his dick and, as much as you want to look down, you’re a prisoner of his gaze. All you can do is suck his fingers, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue around them.

“Good girl,” he says once he’s retrieved his fingers from your mouth.

He lets go of his dick as he searches through his pocket for his wallet. He takes it out, finding a condom. He rips the package as your hand wraps around the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum all around the head. He hisses but lets you do it, especially as you start stroking him, trying to copy his previous motions.

You jerk him off for a moment, and he pushes your shirt up enough so that he’s able to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking hard. It’s your turn to hiss, though his tongue soothes the sting as he swirls it around your nipple before he moves to your other breast.

You rest your head against the wall, trying to focus on jerking him off, but when he dips two fingers in you, arching them to rub at the sweet spot inside of you, you grip him tight.

“Fuck,” he curses as he pulls away, and his fingers leave you empty. They move to retrieve the condom from the package, and he’s quick to roll it on his dick. “Turn around,” he orders.

You bite at your lip, nodding once before you do so. He grabs your hips and pulls them back before he pushes on your upper back until you’re bent, one arm resting against a shelf you find under the white coats.

Hoseok teases your entrance with his fingers again before slipping them in. He finger-fucks you for a while, adding scissoring motions to spread you wide open as you pant from the ministrations. You know he’s getting you ready for his cock, even though you reckon it’s useless.

Indeed, you’re soaked, the perspective of fucking in a public space having made you hornier than you usually are. Indeed, you think you’re already close, especially as he pushes in and out quickly, fingers rubbing you expertly.

You clench around him, and he smacks your ass with one hand. “You like that?”

“Fuck me,” you whine again, begging more than anything.

“Yes, baby,” he says as he massages your ass. “I’m going to fuck you good.”

His fingers leave you empty, and he holds your hips as he aligns himself with your entrance. His cock rubs against your clit, making you see stars before he finally pushes in. He stops with just the tip in, landing another hard slap to your ass.

The sting makes you move back, and you impale yourself on him until his dick reaches deep inside of you, splitting you wide open. He grunts, fingers digging into the supple skin of your hip, and you moan as he hits the bottom of your pussy.

“Fuck,” he curses. “You want to fuck yourself on me, mmh?”

You don’t reply, instead moving forward before pushing back again. He groans again, but then he holds you in place. When you understand that he wants you to stop, you still, glancing at him. He meets your gaze as one of his hands moves to his mouth, and he spits on his fingers.

You grab the side of the shelf hard, knuckles turning white, as he spreads your ass cheeks open, and he smears his spit on your asshole.

He’s still holding your gaze, and as you say nothing, he pushes his thumb in your ass. It hurts a little, and your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the feeling.

“Safe word?”

You shake your head no, and Hoseok doesn’t need more to start pounding into you, so hard you can’t help the loud moan that falls from your lips. You clench your walls around him, hard, and he takes that as a cue to bring his other hand to your clit. He rubs it with a consistent rhythm that’s making your legs tremble, though he’s pressing a little too hard. You know he’ll get you oversensitive in no time, so you pinch one of your nipples, focusing on that pain to remain afloat.

That’s where your orgasm finds you, a little under a minute later. Crashing against you, you moan a broken sound that probably would have been his name, and the waves of your orgasm wash over you as he keeps fucking you, fingers never faltering on your clit.

As soon as you’re down from the high, you pull his hand away from your clit. “Too sensitive,” you mutter.

He slaps your ass but says nothing as he increases the pace of his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. It hits him as you clench your walls around him voluntarily, and he grunts loudly as he comes, dick twitching deep inside of you.

For a moment, all that fills the air is the sound of your ragged breaths, and it takes you both a while before you’re back in your bodies, coming down from the high of sex. Hoseok pulls out of you, both his dick and his thumb, and he discards the condom, tying it tightly. You put your clothes back on, shakily, as you’re still reeling from the oversensitivity. You run your hands through your hair, making sure it’s not too much of a mess before facing him.

“Damn,” you say once you’re both standing straight, gaze meeting.

Hoseok laughs. “Yeah.”

“Now I have a class to run to.”

He nods. “You do. You think you’ll be okay?”

The way he says it is cocky, and for some reason, it makes you want him again. He must have noticed, because he smirks, tilting his head to the side.

“I’ll be fine,” you say. “We should…”

“Hang out again?” he supplies as you fall silent.

You nod once. “Sometime this weekend?”

He thinks about it for a time before shaking his head no. “I’m going to visit my parents this weekend so…” he trails off.

“Oh,” you let out, shrugging your shoulders. “Just… text me?”

“In the group chat or…” he teases, and you push him as you roll your eyes. It makes him laugh, yet he still pulls you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, I’ll text you.”

You move out of his embrace, a little embarrassed. “Good.”

He smiles, gently, and it’s so far from what he was just a moment ago, pounding into you, that you think you get whiplash.

Jeong Hoseok has a duality you don’t think you’ll ever understand. And really, it leaves you confused all through your genetics class. Nabi never shows up, which you actually are glad for. Because you’re pretty sure she would have taken one look at you and known you’ve just fucked, and you don’t think you’d be ready to deal with the questioning.

You’ve barely told them about what happened between you and Hoseok last weekend. You don’t see yourself admitting that you’re sleeping with him again. You’re just content with enjoying the friend group, and you don’t want to make things awkward for everyone else. So you’ve been keeping it to yourself, and perhaps that’s why you’ve been feeling so confused.

As you sit in the library later, trying to finish your lab report, you spy Jungkook shelving some books. He doesn’t see you or pretends he hasn’t seen you, and that, most of all, makes you realize one thing.

Hoseok isn’t the one that’s been confusing you at all. It’s been Jungkook, and what he said on Sunday morning, that’s been plaguing your every moment.

No wonder you haven’t said anything to your friends.

Wednesday, February 6th

You hate midterms. They stress you out, obviously, but also the irregular hours make it hard for you to sleep at night, and even harder to follow in your classes. It’s no wonder you end up skipping your afternoon class, heading home to take a well-deserved nap before you study more. Nabi promised to send her notes, considering you’ve sent her the notes of that genetics class she missed a few weeks ago.

It’s a good deal, and you sleep like a rock the moment you get home, face hidden in your pillow. The only downside of taking a nap is, you always feel worse when you wake up. It takes a while for you to shake the grogginess away, so when you wake up around 3:45 pm, you know you’re not going to be able to study right away. Instead, you head to the kitchen, reheating some leftover noodles you find in the fridge.

You’re halfway through your bowl when your phone rings, startling you. You glance at the screen – it’s Taehyung, on a Facetime call at that. Your heart leaps in your chest; you haven’t talked to him since he left, a month ago, except for some texting here and there to make sure that everything was okay.

You pick up the call, and it takes a few seconds before it connects, and your brother’s dumb face appears on the screen. He looks as if he’s lying in bed, or on a couch perhaps. He smiles as soon as he sees you, and you wish you could hug him through the screen.

“Hey!” he says. “How’s America going?”

“It’s cold,” you complain. “Not as great as Paris I assume.”

Taehyung laughs. “Paris is a dream, honestly. You’d love it here.”

“Duh.” You smile wide, slightly shaking your head. “I still can’t believe you just get to spend a whole semester over there.”

“You can if you want to! I’m sure your major also allows it.”

As much as it’d be fun, you don’t think Paris would be your destination. There are a couple of other places in the world that are higher up on your list, though you don’t know if you’d want to study in those places. You’re afraid it’d take the magic away, as you’ve always been too focused on your studies.

Taehyung has never been like this, so you know he’s been enjoying his time over there. And he has – he visited the Louvres last weekend, and he’s eaten so many croissants he’s convinced he’s going to get a French accent soon.

At that, you laugh, before telling him about your time here. Omitting Hoseok, obviously, but mostly omitting how Jungkook has been not so subtly flirting with you. To be fair, you’re pretty sure he was flirting with you before Taehyung left, but he’s been far bolder now. You know the blame is partly on you – after the Incident, and the revelation that he knows about it, you can see why a guy like Jungkook would be attracted.

He told you himself that he was turned on when you were with Hoseok, didn’t he?

“Hello,” Taehyung says. “Are you even listening to me?”

You shake out of your thoughts, apologizing. “Midterms have been fucking with me.”

“Oof,” Taehyung lets out. “I’m lucky my grades here don’t count in my GPA.” He winces, glancing away from the screen before resuming his attention on you. “I think I’m going to tank one of the classes.”

“RIP.”

Before you or your brother have time to say anything else, the front door unlocks. Your eyes snap to it from where you’re sitting on the couch, and Jungkook comes into view, hair ruffled by the wind outside. He catches sight of you, offering you a corner smile that makes you want to roll your eyes as your gaze settles back on your brother.

“Is Jungkook home?” Taehyung asks, loud enough for the mentioned man to look your way.

“Tae!” he lets out enthusiastically, and he kicks his boots off to make his way to your side.

You want to disappear when he sits next to you, close enough for his thigh to press against yours. He’s still clad in his coat, and you cringe at how cold it is as he leans even closer, his face appearing on your phone. “How’s Paris been going?”

“Bro, it’s fucking sick,” Taehyung answers. “They know how to party here.”

Jungkook smirks. “Any good fucks?”

Your head snaps towards Jungkook. “Bruh, why would you ask him that?”

Taehyung laughs, ignoring you. “I’ve been seeing this girl,” he admits. “Haven’t fucked yet but I’d say it’s coming.”

You wince, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Come on, I don’t want to hear about your sex life, Tae.”

“You’re a big girl now, get used to it,” Jungkook jokes.

You glare at him again, and when your eyes move back to Taehyung’s face, he’s got his brows furrowed. You don’t know why, and the expression melts to be replaced by his usual impassive mask, the one you know he uses when he’s trying to not let his emotions show on his face.

“Well, I’ve been dating her, I’m pretty sure I can tell you I’ve been going on dates?” he says, and it sounds like a question.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Kim Taehyung, why are you starting to date someone in Paris? You’re not going to do long distance.”

“She’s from our college too, chill,” he answers, rolling his eyes at you. “She’s in the exchange program.”

That gains your interest, and a smile moves on your lips. “Oh?”

“Oh?” Taehyung echoes.

“Who is she?”

He offers you a secretive smile. “Not telling before things are official.”

Taking you by surprise, Jungkook grabs your phone out of your hands. The sudden contact of his fingers on yours feels electrifying, even though it lasts just a fraction of a second before it’s gone.

“Hey!” you burst out.

“I’m sure you can tell your best friend,” Jungkook says, holding your phone out of your reach, filming his face.

“Jungkook, give me my phone!”

You can hear Taehyung laughing on his side of the line as Jungkook looks at you. “Nah.”

You sit back on the couch, folding your arms on your chest. You clench your jaw, annoyance moving through you, but you don’t say anything else as Taehyung insists that he’d rather wait before telling you. Jungkook, resolute, asks the question again, and you elbow him in the ribs.

“Ow!” he lets out. “What the fuck was that for?”

You roll your eyes. “Give me my phone.” He looks up at the ceiling in annoyance, before handing you the device. “Thank you,” you say sarcastically.

“Just wanted to get you your answer,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “But never mind.”

At that he gets up, sauntering away while taking off his coat. You watch him go, far too confused, but Taehyung doesn’t let you think about it for too long. Instead, he says he’s got to go, but that he’s glad you two talked. You tell him to be safe, and then you hang up.

The sudden silence in the living room makes you glance towards the kitchen as you hear Jungkook rummaging in the refrigerator. It takes all but five seconds for him to yell, “Hey, are you eating my noodles?”

Your gaze widens as it falls on the noodles you’ve been eating, forgotten on the coffee table. You were convinced they were yours earlier, but now that Jungkook’s said it…

You jump out of your seat, grabbing them as you head to the kitchen. “Are they yours? I was convinced they were mine.”

He seems pissed, but when you hand him the bowl, he cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve eaten half of them.”

“There’s still plenty left!” you point out. “I’m sorry.”

“Peach,” he says, smirking. “It’s okay, I’ll eat something else.”

The nickname makes your cheeks burn. “No, really, take them.”

He hesitates for a few seconds more before shrugging his shoulders and grabbing the half-eaten bowl. “Thanks.”

You don’t reply, not knowing what to say as he moves back to the living room. Still hungry, you grab some grapes from the fridge before heading to your room, figuring you should study now. You get comfortable at your desk, studying for your next midterm. It goes well for a few hours, but when the sun has long since set, you hear Jungkook opening the front door, greeting someone.

For a moment, you’re afraid he’s invited a girl over, but it turns out to be Jimin. You relax in your chair, continuing to study, eyes growing heavy with every sentence that you read. Luckily enough, you don’t have a morning class tomorrow, having the week off before the midterm to “study”. So you push through, knowing that it doesn’t matter if you go to bed late tonight.

You can’t focus on your laptop anymore when you hear Jungkook cursing at Jimin from the living room. It’s loud, and you only then realize that the TV is on, and they’re clearly playing some game. Just like that, what was left of your concentration flies out of the window, and you get up to go see what they are up to.

Turns out that they are playing Mario Kart, and from the looks of it, Jungkook is losing. He’s leaning towards the TV, elbows resting on his knees as he concentrates, and Jimin has a shit-eating grin on his lips. The latter’s eyes flicker to you for half a second before he resumes his attention on the television.

“Hey,” he greets you, adding your name at the end. “Want to play?”

You move closer so you can see the screen, and you watch as they drive the rainbow road. “I’m supposed to be studying.”

Jungkook curses loudly, and you watch his character fall from the road. You laugh, right as Jimin finishes the race.

“JK, you suck,” Jimin teases.

Jungkook is pouting next to him, half in concentration and half in annoyance, and he looks stupidly cute like this. You hate it, so you resume your attention on the screen to watch him finish in eleventh place, right in front of Princess Peach.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook drawls, and his gaze slides to where you’re standing. It seems he thinks you are salvation because his gaze lights up. He says your name enthusiastically, adding, “My second favourite Kim sibling!”

You purse your lips, furrowing your brows. “Fuck off,” you tell him.

“Can you please go get some beer from the fridge, since you’re standing?” he adds, begs, ignoring you.

He offers you his best impression of puppy eyes, and you want to hate him because, damn, he’s good. Too good, and you shake your head in disapproval, though you still turn around and walk over to the kitchen. You fish two beers out of the fridge and thinking better of it, you grab a third one for yourself. You head back to the living room then, handing the cans to the guys.

“Thank you,” Jimin says, but all Jungkook does is wink at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

It makes something warm blossom in your chest, and as he glances down at your naked legs, the feeling soon trickles down to your core. Indeed, you’re only wearing a pair of pajama shorts, and luckily enough, you’ve been shaving your legs religiously now that you’ve been sleeping with Hoseok again.

Your cheeks flush, and you try to figure out where to sit. Jimin is leaning against the armrest, back propped up against a pillow, and Jungkook is in the middle of the couch, next to the L-shaped part. It only leaves you with the option of sitting next to him, and you clench your jaw, though you still make it to his side.

You sit as far from him as you can, grabbing the blanket you always leave on the back of the couch to hide your legs, lest Jungkook’s gaze burns your skin more.

“You wanna play?” Jungkook asks.

You shake your head no. “Just taking a break from studying.”

“With a beer?”

He sounds disapproving, so you glance at him. “Yeah?”

He snorts, but he doesn’t say anything else as Jimin starts another race. You watch them play, cheering for Jimin even though Jungkook is winning. Jimin, ecstatic, keeps drifting into the wall, but he manages to get a blue shell on the last turn, which he immediately launches at Jungkook.

Jungkook curses loudly again as you giggle with Jimin, watching his character – Wario – spinning on the screen. He still manages to finish the race fourth, with Jimin right behind him.

You’ve been drinking your beer fast, and after the next race, Jimin manages to convince you to play. You choose Princess Peach, obviously, right as Jimin moves away to go to the bathroom.

“Really, Princess Peach?” Jungkook teases, a smirk adorning his lips. “You’re trash with her.”

“The character you choose changes nothing,” you say, glaring at him. “Let me be.”

“Right,” he says, laughing. He leans back into the couch, taking a sip from his beer. “You did earn your nickname after all.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes, before meeting his gaze. “You know I hate that nickname.”

“Hence why I’ll keep using it, peach.”

You punch him in the shoulder, clearly not hard enough to hurt. As a matter of fact, it hurts your hand more than it probably hurts him as your fist collides with his hard shoulder muscles, and you grit your teeth as you sit back in your spot.

“You’re annoying.”

He grins at you, a toothy grin that makes you want to punch him again, in the face this time. “You love it,” he teases.

Before you can say no, Jimin walks out of the bathroom, and the moment is over. You go back to playing, and you end up on a winning streak, which earns you a lot of curses from Jungkook. Right when you’re about to go for a fourth race, Jungkook claiming that this one is going to be his race, Jimin receives a call.

“It’s Sera,” he says as an explanation, and he walks away to take the call in the kitchen, away from you and Jungkook.

Jungkook immediately turns towards you. “Have you been practicing? You were trash last time we played.”

You snort. “I have better things to do with my free time than to practice playing Mario Kart.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “Whatever, I’ll beat you in this race.”

“Good luck with that,” you tease. “Didn’t you finish last in the last one?”

To your surprise, he leans towards you. He’s close enough for you to feel his breath fanning on your face, and you hold yours as he offers you a smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

“At least I finished.”

You don’t know what he’s referring to, so you offer him a quizzical look. “What?”

He chuckles, and one of his hands pats your thigh over the blanket. It still burns, and you gulp.

“Pretty sure that guy you’ve been fucking hasn’t made you finish.”

You flush crimson. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You hope he can’t hear the furious beats of your heart because you’re pretty sure you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Heard you sucking his dick, and then you tell me he left. He didn’t take care of you, did he?”

The way Jungkook is looking at you right now makes you feel new. Seen. As if no one’s ever looked at you that way before.

“I deserved it,” you reply, throat dry. You try swallowing, but it only makes you gulp again.

“Come on, peach. What did you do to deserve that?”

He’s even closer now. Eyes dropping to your lips as you tentatively wet them, and you feel yourself leaning back. Mostly because you think you’re going to explode if you don’t move.

Jeon Jungkook is dangerous for your sanity.

“Ghosted him,” you admit.

That takes Jungkook by surprise. He starts laughing, shaking his head. “You, ghosting someone?”

Luckily enough, as he laughed he sat back in his spot, and you breathe easier with the renewed distance between you.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook chuckles again. “For some reason, I thought you were a hopeless romantic.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, and you both glance towards the kitchen from which Jimin emerges. Jungkook never answers your question as Jimin announces that he’s going to play one last race before he’ll have to leave, and you’re forced to let the conversation go as he starts the race.

This time around, you can’t focus. You keep falling off the track, hands clammy as your mind replays the conversation with Jungkook. As it reminds you of just how Jeon Jungkook’s gaze was burning on you a moment ago, and you drive into a wall on the second turn.

“Fuck,” you curse.

“Distracted?” Jungkook asks, and the smirk tells you enough for you to understand what just happened.

He was trying to distract you. You fume, focusing on the screen with new vigour as you try to pass Jungkook. He notices your intent, but when he laughs, you once again run into a wall, slowing you down enough that you fall back to the tenth position.

When Jungkook passes the finish line first, he cheers loudly, winking your way. You glare at him, and Jimin laughs at the two of you, though he says nothing. You wonder if he’s heard part of your conversation with Jungkook – if he has, you reckon your brother is going to give you shit for it soon. You can only hope that he hasn’t, because as much as you love Taehyung, you don’t want him to be an overbearing asshole.

Jimin leaves, wishing you and Jungkook a good night before disappearing into the soft snowfall outside. You don’t move from the couch, and when Jungkook heads to the kitchen, you put your controller down, stretching as you yawn.

To your surprise, Jungkook comes back with another beer for each of you.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Don’t you still want to play?” he says as he sits next to you, and electricity courses through your blood as you notice he’s closer now.

“Not really,” you admit, yet you still accept the beer that he hands you.

“Mind if I play something else, then?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Nah, go on. I’ll just drink this and go to bed.”

“Tired of me?” he teases, smirking.

You roll your eyes, but don’t reply to that.

“What made you think that I’m a hopeless romantic?” you ask after a few seconds, going back to your previous conversation.

He plays with his piercing, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Have you seen your brother? It wasn’t far-fetched to think you’d be like him.”

He’s not wrong. Taehyung is a romantic, through and through. It’s one of the reasons why he loves Paris so much – the city of love, where he’s himself finding love at the moment, it seems. He’s been that way for as long as you can remember, only having dated a girl once in his life all through high school, splitting because she decided to go to an Ivy League college on the other side of the country.

“Right,” you say.

Jungkook switches games to Smash, not saying anything else. It seems the conversation is over, and you watch him play a match as you sip your beer, slower than the other one. It makes you realize that you don’t usually hang out with Jungkook, and you reckon you have nothing to tell him.

There’s usually always a buffer between the two of you, be it Taehyung or Jimin.

“How have your midterms been going?” he asks all of a sudden, right as you watch his character being thrown out of the screen.

“Huh,” you let out. “It’s been okay,” you admit. “Just stressful, and a lot of studying.”

He glances at your beer. “Sorry for interrupting your studying tonight.”

“Nah, all good,” you reassure him. “I needed a break. I pulled an all-nighter last night.”

He throws you a disapproving look that makes you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘it’s whatever’. He doesn’t say anything though, waiting until his match ends to speak again.

“You shouldn’t pull all-nighters, they’re bad for your health.”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “I had a midterm this morning, didn’t really have a choice.”

He pulls at his piercing, nodding once. “Fair enough. What are you doing still up though?”

Right on cue, you yawn again. “I’m going to head to bed soon,” you admit. “But I took a nap this afternoon and I always struggle with sleeping after.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got a little friend that can help you with that.”

Your mouth falls open in surprise, but Jungkook’s attention is focused on the screen as another match begins.

“Excuse me?”

“Unless you just use your fingers?” he teases. “How do you touch yourself, peach?”

“Jungkook, shut the fuck up,” you warn.

Though his words have arousal build up inside of you, and you clench your thighs together instinctively.

“Just do whatever you did the other night,” he says, and you know he’s referring to the Incident. “You’ll sleep well after.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re so crass.”

“Yet you’re still sitting next to me.”

You watch his profile, and your eyes fall to the ink on his arm. His forearm flexes as he uses the controller, and you force yourself to look at the screen.

“I’m just finishing my beer.”

He glances at you once, and you think you could drown in the darkness in his eyes. His gaze is gone too fast for you to do just that, but you still feel your pulse racing.

“Relax, peach,” he tells you, voice suddenly husky. It has the opposite effect of making you relax, and you wet your lips as he continues, “Masturbating is only human. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“Still don’t think I should be discussing that with you,” you say after a few seconds of electric current swimming in your blood.

He chuckles manly. “Fair enough. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

In truth, he did quite the opposite, but you don’t have it in you to tell him. You don’t want to tell him, don’t want to encourage his behaviour when it feels like danger in its purest form.

“All good,” you say, and you’re aware you sound breathless. As a matter of fact, you are breathless, and you know Jungkook heard it too. Know that the look he throws you is filled with lust, sinfully so, and you know you need to leave this room.

He’s your brother’s best friend, after all.

“I’m…” you trail off. He nods once to encourage you to continue, gaze still burning on you even though that means he’s losing his game. “I’m going to go to bed now.”

He glances at your beer. “You’re done with that?”

He’s a little shit. He’s a little shit, and he clearly knows it.

“I’ll finish it in my room.”

His tongue darts out to play with his piercing as his big doe eyes narrow. “Alright. Good night, peach.”

You nod once, and you get up from the couch. The blanket falls from your legs, and you’re all too aware of how he’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you.

“Good night.”

And then you flee, core heated up and heart beating out of your chest. You’re convinced you can feel his gaze boring a hole between your shoulder blades, but you don’t turn around to confirm. You refuse to turn around to confirm, lest you’re never going to be able to make it to your room.

You hate this. Hate that he’s got you hot and bothered too much for you to be able to settle in bed comfortably. Hate that you find yourself seeking your vibrator in your night table.

You only sigh in relief when you’ve got it pressed against your clit through your underwear. And you’ve soaked through your panties already. They’re sticky against you, but you can’t bring yourself to move them to the side. Not for a while, not until you’ve hidden your face in your bed cover to muffle your sounds, if you make any.

No, it takes you a moment before you finally decide to push them to the side, and the direct contact on your clit has you arching your back, stars swimming in the periphery of your vision. You think about Jungkook. Remember the sounds that he makes while he fucks, remember the words that he’s told you.

You remember his big eyes, filled with sudden lust for you. You imagine him murmuring his dangerous words right in your ear, lips moving against you, and the thought of him pushing his dick in you is enough to send you over the edge, vision flashing with white light for so long that you think you’ve gone blind. And then you push the vibrator inside of you, not surprised when it slides right in with how wet you are.

You’re aware of the squelching sounds it makes, but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is imagine being impaled on Jungkook’s dick instead, imagine his inked hand wrapping around your neck as he pounds into you.

In your fantasies, he fucks you even better than Hoseok does. He fucks you into ecstasy, fucks you until you’re high with it, and you go dumb. Until all that’s left is his dick, and it’s no surprise when you muffle a loud moan in the bed cover as you squirt, your juices covering the hand you’re fucking yourself with.

And still, you can’t stop. You turn on your side, hide your face in your pillow as tears swim in your gaze with the intensity of your pleasure. You imagine Jungkook on his side of the wall, imagine him stroking his cock, listening to you choking on Hoseok’s dick, remember him admitting to being turned on by it…

Your other hand moves between your legs, finds your sensitive clit and starts rubbing insistent circles on it, right as another knot starts forming in your lower stomach. You move the vibrator inside of you faster, time your motions with the circles on your clit, and soon enough, a new orgasm finds you, slams into you so hard you think you’ll lose your mind.

Only then are you able to stop, turning off your vibrator and putting it down on the bed next to you, hands shaking slightly. You don’t move for a long time as you swim in the aftereffect of your pleasure, and it takes you a while to decide to go clean up. Clearly, you need a cold shower, but first, you chug what was left of the beer, needing to numb your mind so you can’t be embarrassed by what just happened.

You put your pajama shorts back on, grab a clean pair of underwear and then stop next to the door. You listen to the sounds outside of your room, but it seems Jungkook’s not gaming anymore. So you hesitantly open the door, and when you find the apartment completely dark, you sigh in relief.

You tiptoe towards the bathroom, slowing down in front of Jungkook’s door. There’s a faint red light under his door, coming from the LED lights you know he’s hung in his room, and you wonder what he’s doing in there.

Through the door, you hear some faint feminine moaning and instinctively bite your lips. You only realize you’ve stopped in front of his door when you hear him curse lowly, and then the moaning is interrupted. He’s watching porn. You’re painfully aware that he’s watching porn, jerking off just on the other side of his closed door.

You reckon you will really need the cold shower after all.

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☆☆☆☆☆

Oooooof these two I swear... how did we like this chapter? Good? Not good? Let me know!!

#chasing cars ch 2 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk #chasing cars #chasing cars series #btswritersclub #jeon jungkook

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slut4thebroken · 7 months

Text

Needs

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary | Tommy’s been so busy with work that he’s been neglecting your needs… So you come up with a plan to finally get some attention.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, rough sex, spanking, creampie, degradation, humiliation, praise, brat taming, gunplay, established relationship.

Words | 2.3 k

Notes | I feel like I still don’t really have his characterization down tbh :/ oh well😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Smut prompts 4. "what would they think if they saw you right now?" 36. “You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.” 48. “no panties. you need me that bad?” 50. “i bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home” 52. “you keep acting like a brat and i’ll take you over my knee right here. i don’t care how many people are watching” 75. "You wanted this. You can take it."

This definitely was not your proudest moment… but you’re pent up and Tommy has been too busy to take care of you for almost two weeks now. You’re desperately craving some rough, hard fucking. And you know exactly how to get it.

Placing your hand on the man’s bicep, you laughed along with his “joke” and glanced at Tommy from across the room. He still hadn’t noticed you yet and you prayed he would soon because you’ve never met a man more bland and boring than the one in front of you. He’s also either completely stupid, or just doesn’t know that you’re with Tommy since he’s openly flirting with you.

“You know, you truly are very beautiful.” He said, the joking tone now completely gone.

“Oh- thank you..” You smiled, trying not to cringe.

“May I dance with you?” You glanced at Tommy again— still nothing.

“Sure.” He led you over to the center of the room and grabbed your hand, placing his other hand on your back, far too low. He started up another conversation and all you could do was nod or hum in agreement, too focused on looking at Tommy every chance you had.

When you finally, finally met his gaze.. you immediately recognized his expression. You forced your eyes back on the man in front of you and smiled, trusting that Tommy would be over here any second now.

“Hello, darling.” You stopped and tried not to smirk as you turned around. Tommy was looking between you and the man who quickly let go of you and stepped back.

“Mr. Shelby.” He greeted, giving an awkward smile. He looked between the two of you and seemed to suddenly understand the situation. His smile slowly dropped as he took another step back. “I- I’m going to..”

“Yeah, you do that.” Tommy sneered, waiting until the man scurried away before turning to you. He didn’t bother asking before grabbing your hand and pulling you into him by your lower back.

“I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you…” He murmured, making you smile a little. “We’ll see how cute you look later when we’re home.”

“We were just dancing.” You said, in a tone that implied that you weren’t just dancing.

“Right.” He scoffed.

“There’s no need to get insecure, Tommy.” You said innocently, watching as his cheeks tensed when he clenched his jaw. His piercing blue eyes practically stared through you and if it were anyone else, they would’ve backed down immediately.

“You keep acting like a brat and I'll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.” He spoke in a low, menacing voice, making your stomach flutter.

“Really? You’re not too busy for that?” You snarked and his expression shifted into one of realization, then amusement.

“Is that what this is about? My girl is a bit needy so she turns into a whore?” As soon as he started teasing, you knew you had to do more for this plan to actually work.

“Screw you.” You spat, pushing him back by his chest. His eyes darkened and without paying any attention to the people who were now watching this encounter, he grabbed your wrist and started dragging you somewhere. “Let go!” You tried yanking yourself free, but his grip wouldn’t budge. He pulled you through a few hallways until you reached the kitchen, then shoved you into the room and slammed the door shut.

“Quit it. I won’t tell you again.” He warned.

“I didn’t even do anything! You’re the one who made a scene and dragged me away from the party.”

“Oh, I made a scene?” He chuckled and you clenched your jaw, letting out a heavy breath through your nose. “Does no cock for less than two weeks really turn you into a complete brat?” He was still so fucking amused, so you shoved his chest again. He suddenly gripped your neck and pushed you back a few steps until you hit the counter. “I said quit it.” He growled, tightening his grip on your neck.

“Fucking make me, Thomas.” You spat, purposefully using his full name.

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter right now… Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh, are you? Do you even have time for that?” You don’t think you’ve ever sounded more bratty before in your life.

“Fine. You want to be fucked?” He quickly spun you around and pushed your chest down onto the counter, then bunched your dress up, letting it rest on your back. “Really, no panties? You need it that bad?” He snickered, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You don’t regret your decision to go without them though.

The sound of clothes rustling as he opened his pants had you squeezing your thighs together, eager for what was to come. Without any warning he fully sheathed himself inside you, making you cry out and scramble for purchase on the counter.

“Fuck! Tommy— what the hell?” He didn’t even give you a second to adjust before starting a brutal pace. Grabbing your hips tight enough to bruise, he bucked into you wildly with little care for your own pleasure. But for some pathetic reason that only made all of this hotter. “God- Tommy, slow down.” You whined, trying to squirm away.

“You wanted this. You can take it." He gruffed, letting out quiet grunts now. Honestly, you’ve been a little horny since the moment you decided not to wear any underwear, but it’s been longer than usual since he’s been inside you and he didn’t do anything else to prep you, so the stretch burned a little. It was quickly turning into overwhelming pleasure though. When you reached a hand down to rub your clit, he twisted your arm behind your back almost painfully.

“Brats don’t get to touch. You’ll be lucky if I decide to let you come at all.” You cursed under your breath and closed your eyes, only getting more worked up by his words and the way he said them.

“Fine. When we’re done, we’ll go back out there and I’ll tell everyone about how Tommy Shelby can’t make a girl come.” You snarked. He pulled out with a low growl, making you smirk a little. You watched him walk across the kitchen, opening and closing drawers quickly. When he picked up a wooden spoon and started walking back over, you smirk dropped and you lifted yourself off the counter. “Tommy… Not here.” You warned, stepping away from him when he approached.

“Get the fuck over the counter or I’ll make you.” When you didn’t move, he unholstered his gun and pointed it at you lazily. “Now.” Your eyes widened and you swallowed thickly, glancing between the weapon, the spoon, and his face. Even though you knew he’d never actually shoot you, the fear was still there. So you tentatively walked back over and leaned on the counter again. He lifted your dress, then immediately resumed fucking you, dragging the spoon over your ass to make you tense up.

“I have responsibilities other than satisfying your needs.” He started, placing a firm smack on your ass with the spoon, making you curse loudly. “I run a business,” another smack, this one even harder, “I have a family…” The third hit brought tears to your eyes. “You are not my only priority, you understand?” You whimpered at the fourth smack, but even through all of this, he never stopped fucking you.

“Answer me.” He growled, and this hit forced a choked sob out of you.

“Yes! I- I understand.” You cried, clinging to the counter to ground yourself a little.

“Your libido is inconsequential,” He continued, landing another hit on your already burning ass, “and I will not tolerate my woman acting like a whore because of it.”

“Tommy..” You whimpered pathetically.

“Do you have anything you want to say for yourself?” He spanked you twice in quick succession and you let your head fall onto the counter as a tear finally escaped your waterline.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed out, only crying harder when he hit you again.

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” You whimpered.

“Last fucking chance.” He spat, spanking you again.

“I’m sorry for… acting like a whore.” You choked out and he landed one more hit on each cheek before dropping the spoon onto the counter.

“There you go.” He cooed, rapidly snapping his hips into you, adding more pain to your already burning ass. “What would they think if they saw you right now?" He asked amusedly and you whined as your cheeks heated up. “Bent over some random rich asshole’s kitchen counter, getting spanked and fucked stupid…”

“Tommy…” You whimpered, voice barely audible. Your hips were digging into the edge of the counter painfully and your legs were trembling from the intensity of the pain and pleasure. With each thrust, his balls were smacking your clit, teasing you with the slightest amount of touch where you really needed it.

“From now on, when this cunt is needy, you come to me before whoring yourself around, got it?” You nodded desperately, feeling so close to pleasure that was just out of reach.

“Yes— yes.” You choked out. “Please, Tommy, I can’t take this.” Your voice was a weak whimper and you hoped it’d be enough to get him to cave.

“Do you need to come, darling?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown a little.

“Yes! Please make me come,”

“You can come. But you’re not using your hands.” He said cruelly.

“Tommy, please..” You whined, needing more. You knew he wouldn’t give it to you though.

“Better hurry too cause I’m getting close.” He chuckled quietly, obviously enjoying your suffering.

“I can’t! Please!” You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve been able to come from penetration alone.

“Do you need help, my love?” He asked softly, voice contrasting his actions as he fisted your hair and yanked your body up until your back was against his chest. The cold barrel of his gun dragged down your cheek, making you stiffen and close your eyes with a strangled whimper. “Is this better?” You let out a choked sob even though, yes, it was helping you get closer to the edge. “You’re trembling… Like a little lamb.” He murmured against your ear, sounding uncharacteristically endeared.

“Tommy..” You whispered, unconsciously flinching away from the gun.

“Are you scared?” He whispered back and you just barely nodded in response. “Good girl. I like you like this.” He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and you mewled, feeling your orgasm barreling toward you. He never stopped thrusting, but based on his breathing and the quiet sounds he was making, you knew he was close. Which meant that if you wanted to come, you had to do it now. His lips moved down to your neck and began kissing and licking the sensitive skin, occasionally sucking it into his mouth to leave a mark.

“Come on, love. Drench my fucking cock, I know you can do it.” The gun brushed over your trembling lips teasingly. “This cunt isn't useful to me if it can’t come.” The degrading words forced a strangled moan out of you. When he cocked the gun, your body immediately went completely rigid. “If it’s not useful, then I don’t need it...” He said coyly and you whimpered in response, feeling so incredibly close to release.

“So be a good toy and let that cunt show me why I should keep you around.” That was all you needed to finally fall over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and your whole body tensed up, then started almost shaking as all of the tension was finally released. This was your first orgasm in almost two weeks and it had you struggling to breathe properly and keep yourself up with the way your legs were beginning to feel like jelly.

“Good girl.. I got you.” He cooed, holding you in his arms but never faltering in the movements of his hips. “Let it all out, darling.”

“Tommy.” You whimpered through all of the moaning.

“I know. I know, love.” He whispered, holding you tightly. “Ready for my come?” His words made another strong wave of pleasure roll through you and you were mumbling out incoherent pleas before you could stop yourself. You probably missed the feeling of him coming inside you the most out of everything.

Without another word, his hips stuttered, then he bottomed out, pushing you almost painfully into the edge of the counter with a low groan. You whined at the faint feeling of his cock twitching inside you as he painted your walls with his come. He was grunting quietly, his breathing growing ragged and fanning your neck, getting you worked up again. But he was done far too soon.

Panting quietly, he set his gun down on the counter, then kissed the crook of your neck, filling your stomach with butterflies. You loved his soft moments like this, especially after how rough and mean he was being.

“Good girl…” He whispered. “So good for me.” Your cheeks heated up at the praise.

“Don’t let me go, I’ll fall.” You warned quietly and he released of soft chuckle in response.

“Lean over the counter, darling.” He murmured, giving one last kiss on your neck before letting you lean back down, resting most of your weight on it. He dragged out slowly, making both of you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck… I missed seeing this.” He groaned, enjoying the sight of your walls wrapped around his length.

You whimpered in pain when he grabbed your sore ass and pulled you open to get a better view of your fluttering holes and his come leaking out. At the first sight of it though, he kicked your legs together, making it drip down your thighs instead.

“Tommy...” You whined and he gave a teasing slap to your ass as he let out a half hearted chuckle, then pulled your dress back down.

“Try not to leak all over the floor, love. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to explain that.”

Taglist (join here)

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#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby

1K notes · View notes

pellucid-constellations · 8 months

Text

If It All Fell (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of pain

a/n: Thank you again for reading this series, I really love writing it :) More to come! I really really appreciate feedback, as always ♡

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 5 ☁

Series Masterlist

“It’s going to feel like a push,” Rhys explained, his fingers intertwined between his knees. “And then you’ll know I’m in your mind. It shouldn’t hurt—maybe just a pinch and then a pressure.”

You nodded, clutching the arms of your chair with white-knuckled fingers.

“He’s in my mind all the time. Uninvited, might I add. Doesn’t hurt, it’s just annoying,” Mor added.

Turning your head in her direction, eyes downcast toward the floor, you nodded to her, too.

The faelights gave the room a warm amber hue. It was the day after you met Rhys—or rather, became reacquainted with him—and the day he was going to look for your memories. Mor sat beside you, the blue dress she wore shimmering beneath the glow of the room, and Azriel stood guard by the door. What he was guarding you from, you had no idea, but the act seemed to comfort him.

“Was Cassian busy?” you asked, and then immediately regretted it.

It wasn’t Cassian’s job to be here. He was a grown man with a position in this court. He was busy, obviously. You also barely knew him.

What a stupid question.

Rhys breathed through a smile, anyway. “He’s up at the camps today. But I’ll let him know you asked for him. He’ll love that.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“He’ll love it. I was being genuine,” Rhys comforted, interrupting the anxiousness rising in your tone. “Should we get started?”

You took a deep breath meant to rid the feeling of nausea overtaking you. It didn’t work.

“Yes,” you replied, easing your trembling fingers into your lap. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Rhys kicked up from the table he was leaning against, spinning a chair around in front of you. He sat, and the instant his knees bent to make the descent, Azriel was out from his hiding place in the dark. He loomed over the High Lord, shadows agitated, wings tucked in tight. To his credit, Rhys only gave the new, menacing presence a quick glance.

“Should I keep my eyes open? Or do we have to touch or—”

“Just relax,” Rhys offered. “With everything going on, your mind should be wide open. This will be simple and fast. I promise.”

A promise from a High Lord—from your family, you reminded yourself. This was going to be fine. You doubled up on tonics this morning, so the pain in your head was minimal and you were safe here.

This was going to be fine.

You hadn't even noticed the rapid pace of your breath until Azriel’s shadows came to wind around your shoulders, the quick uptick of the darkness more telling than anything else. The small wisps traveled up and down with the rhythm of your breath until it began to even out, and then they curled around your cheeks as if to caress you. When they made the occasional pass by your ears, it felt as if you were being told secrets—as if you were important enough to know something no one else did.

Yes, this was going to be fine.

Rhys cleared his throat.

The first step into your mind was jarring, the sensation making you physically jump. Rhys seemed to raise a hand up at the entry—to knock on something or open it up—but he passed through a permeable wall instead. He passed through with ease.

The High Lord made a low, surprised sound that echoed in the room.

“What?” Azriel gruffly asked.

Rhys paused. “Well, nothing, I just—I just expected some of her magic to have remained where it was. For some of it to be protecting her mind.”

“Magic?” you whispered.

Azriel’s eyes snapped to you as if on instinct—as if the sound of your voice was simply something he always followed—but his expression did not match the sentiment. He looked haunted, a shadow cast over the grim line of his mouth.

“I have magic?”

Your whisper was cut off by a sharp intake of air. Rhys had moved on from the outskirts of your mind, each step deeper a clicking echo in the stark chamber. He went in directions that felt practiced, like he’d been here before but everything had been rearranged, removed.

You watched as the High Lord ran a rough hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Mor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Azriel watched the man within your mind, a preternatural stillness stiffening his limbs.

“It’s like you’ve been wiped.” Rhys shook his head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You still know language, you know how to—to be fae. But everything else is…”

Within your mind, you felt a darkness roll from Rhys. He was sending something out, inspecting the area. The pain began then, but you weren’t going to tell them. You weren’t going to break and ruin something else.

The darkness invaded small crevices in your mind, sleuthing and slinking in areas you hadn’t been aware of yourself. More pressure built up behind your skull.

You could still manage it.

The air was knocked from your lungs, but you could still manage it.

“Rhysand,” Azriel warned. Blue began to overpower the orange glow of the room.

“I think I’m almost somewhere,” the High Lord replied.

“She’s—”

“Keep going,” you gritted out. “It just feels odd,” you lied. “I’m okay, keep going.”

Azriel shook his head, face twisting in an expression of grief that almost had you taking back your words. He abandoned his observation of Rhys and approached your chair, kneeling down next to you, the bone of his knee harshly pressing against the floor.

He nodded, something resolute in his eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you want.”

From beside you, you heard Mor’s pained sigh, felt her turn to look away.

You tore your eyes from the piousness before you, but Azriel did not budge. His elbow came to rest on the flat surface of his thigh, his fingers extending out to touch the wooden leg of your chair.

“Please, keep going.”

Rhys nodded. The darkness in your mind expanded. It flowed like a cloud rolling out before a storm, reaching every corner of unsearched territory. There was nothing it couldn’t reach, and good, let it fill you up. Let it consume your mind because it was no use to you in this state. Azriel was kneeling before you, desperate and scared, and you couldn’t understand why, so let the darkness become you.

If it led to understanding, to your life, you would withstand this pain.

The first scream that left you ripped through the air like a strike, unsettling any gentleness that had resided in the small office. Rhys had found something; his darkness had collided with a wall—the only wall, only structure, in your mind—and he had gone to investigate. With the simple press of his hand against the sturdy cobalt, a blinding pain found a home in your skull.

Azriel jolted, the fingers that had gripped your chair flying to cover your knee.

You screamed again. And again.

“Stop! Enough, Rhysand. Get out of her head,” Azriel ordered, but he sounded as if he were underwater. He raised his voice above your screams but he sounded so far away.

You collapsed forward, hands coming up to cradle your head. There was a touch at your back, maybe another along your hair—you couldn’t tell. The pain was too great.

“There’s a wall. Something foreign. The energy isn’t hers,” Rhys called. He sounded distant as well.

The world grew light.

“I don’t care,” Azriel gritted out. “We can try again later. She’s going to pass out and last time—”

“Keep… going,” you panted, fighting past the pain to insert yourself into the conversation.

This was your decision, your mind. Your life that was torn away.

“Y/n, please. You don’t understand,” Azriel begged, shifting forward and gripping your wrists in his scarred hands. “This isn’t good for you. This isn’t—please.”

Sweat beaded at your brow. Rhys’s presence hadn’t left your mind. “I have… to know. Have to try.”

“Rhys, maybe we shouldn’t—” Mor began in a soft, hesitant voice.

“Go.” With a simple word from you, Rhys bypassed all else.

Pain exploded at the first talon scratching down the slope of the foreign wall. You surpassed screams, your voice breaking at the peak of the most violent one. At some point, the hands on your head were replaced by larger ones, and you found the texture of them to be a grounding point. Something about the feeling was familiar, like your skin was used to the patterns, the raised edges and the divots along fingers. They traced soothing shapes along your cheeks, dried tears you didn’t realize were cascading down your face.

And then Rhys stood abruptly, his chair rocking back and forth with his departure. The pain dulled, leaving you with heavy breaths and a lingering ache you weren’t sure would ever go away.

“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.”

Breathing in was difficult. The world felt off its axis.

Pale-faced and blinking, Rhys breathed out, “We need to go to Helion.”

You gathered the strength to look up further.

Azriel’s expression crumbled, his beautiful face only inches from yours and filled with such dread that when you succumbed to the lightness creeping into your vision, you feared the descent.

Your loss of consciousness was brief, which was, apparently, very unexpected.

Your once stiff chair was no longer beneath you, and where you expected to be folded up into an uncomfortable shape and cold, you were instead held against a warm, vibrating presence.

No, not vibrating, that wasn’t right. Just speaking—you were being held by someone and they were speaking.

“—back there. Rhys, it’s not a good idea. If you said it was the same energy from before, we can’t—I can’t—”

“He is gone, Az. You know that. Bringing her there would only serve to help her. You know Helion would go to lengths…”

Your comprehension faded in and out, matching the swells of pain in your head. You were reluctant to open your eyes and welcome the assault of light and sensation that would surely greet you when you did.

There was a soft lull in the conversation, although you couldn’t decipher where it had left off. You felt a light pressure along your face and welcomed the relief and comfort that came with it. Some of the ache dissipated along the path of the touch.

“Her screams,” you heard Azriel stress, and it felt as if his words were spoken against your skin. “They were so reminiscent of that night. All of this is.”

“I know, brother,” Rhys replied.

“I don’t know if I can do this. If I can survive this.”

A sniff. Something wet along your jaw. The chest you were pressed against seemed to tremble.

“You have to. She’ll need you when she comes out on the other side of this.”

“I know,” Azriel whispered, words weaker but somehow even closer. “I know.”

Disregarding all of your senses that argued against it, you cracked your eyes open. The lights were still low, but even that fact didn’t stop the burning behind your eyes from amplifying. A repercussion from Rhysand’s investigation, surely.

Whoever was left in the room gave you time to adjust, no one speaking or moving or expecting anything from you other than breath. You felt the hold on you loosen, but not withdraw.

Part of you, a deep, intrinsic part, knew it was Azriel. His voice and his scent and the feel of his body seemed to be things you could recognize even when nothing else made sense. So, you knew it was him holding you from the moment your mind began to catch up with the environment.

And still, seeing him so close, feeling him against you—it was a shock to your already overwhelmed system.

You groaned, face scrunching as you tried to gather your bearings. Azriel’s legs shifted, and your body moved along with them. The motion served as a catalyst in your effort to sit up.

“Hey, hold on,” Azriel cautioned. Hearing his voice so soft—so careful—had you blinking, trying to parse out what was real and what was still hazy.

“Did…did we figure out what was wrong?” you asked, groggy. “Did you find anything?”

You turned your head with sharp momentum, regretting the act as soon as you did it. But you didn’t have time for pain—for fear. Rhys looked back at you with a sympathetic smile, both of you ignoring the sound of protest from Azriel at your movement.

His hand moved to rest along the back of your neck as Rhys spoke, keeping your head in one place. Keeping it supported and still.

You didn’t have the energy to shake it off.

Did you want to?

“I found something. Not as much as I’d have liked, but it’s something to go off of. We’ll… have to go to Day. There’s more information there. I’ve sent Mor to sort out the logistics.”

A glance around the room confirmed that the blonde was no longer there. It must have been a quick decision to send her away. As quick as Azriel tugging you out of your chair and holding you on the floor.

Rhys didn’t seem uncomfortable by the display, but of course he wouldn’t—not if his goal was to drive two enemies back into friendship.

If you were ever even friends to begin with.

The trajectory of your thoughts made you grimace in Azriel’s arms, and even though your entire body protested it, you shifted away from him, hands coming down to the floor to support your weight. A soft grunt left you.

Why did a search through your mind leave you so weak?

“My lo—y/n, stop,” Azriel fumbled over his words, reaching out for you.

But with confusion and pain marring your state of mind—causing your usually perfectly practiced, patient replies to skew—you only struggled more and pushed farther away. There were too many unknowns, too many questions, too many feelings surrounding this man who looked at you as if you were never-ending but pushed you away as if you were finite.

You couldn’t take it.

And maybe this is how you—the real you, the one with her memories—would react, anyway. Everyone always seemed to expect a strong will and unyielding tenacity, their disappointment at your meekness glaringly obvious.

Maybe you were supposed to fight against these secrets and this pain.

“I’ve got it,” you grunted out, pushing closer to the desk, closer to the rift you didn’t understand between you and Azriel.

You wanted Mor back.

She made more sense.

Looking up from your struggle, you caught Azriel and Rhysand in the midst of a staring match, their expressions firm and drawn. With what you now understood about Rhys and his powers, you were sure they were communicating somehow.

When Rhys spoke next, your hypothesis was only confirmed. “Az is going to take you back to your room,” he said, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. “He’s going to help you pack.”

When the High Lord left, the door clicking shut with finality, tension blanketed the room. The worst part of it all was your lack of context. Something big was happening, something immeasurable, and you had no upper hand—not even a foot on the ground.

You looked down at your palms and then back up at Azriel. He had yet to move from his position kneeling before you, hands still outstretched in some fruitless reach, elbows bent and tense against his sides.

You wanted Mor back.

She seemed to love you—to want you here.

“I can get back to my room on my own,” you offered, and even though the words were barely a whisper, they were resounding in the silent room.

Azriel licked his lips and looked down. When his hands fell to his sides, you took that as compliance, as acceptance. On shaking arms, you attempted to lift yourself up.

“I haven’t been doing this right.” Your unsuccessful attempt abruptly ceased. Azriel continued. “I barely got it right the first time. This time… this time I—”

“It’s okay, Azriel. I understand, I think.”

Hazel eyes met yours, the collection of colors confused beneath furrowed brows.

You so badly wanted to soothe away all of the unease within them, to brush your thumb along his brow even though you were sure he wouldn’t want to do the same—not without his family present to witness it.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You wanted to sigh, but too much air might’ve made you pass out again. Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek, twisting your lips as you considered the best way to phrase the thoughts that had been plaguing you.

“No one will tell me about you—about who we were to each other before I lost everything. I thought maybe it was because you were going to tell me, but then you wanted nothing to do with me and I understood a little better. I understood that maybe we weren’t friends before all of this. And that’s okay, I know that we lived lives that I can’t remember.

“But then… sometimes you do things that don’t make sense to me. You say things that don’t add up with what I’ve come to terms with and I think… I think my mind and my body get confused. It’s strange,” you admitted, using what little strength you still coveted to push yourself back against Rhys’s desk. “But I think I understand now. And I’m sorry if I make it weird. I think that even if my mind understands who you are to me, there are other parts that don’t quite catch up.”

“And who am I to you?” Azriel asked, voice raw.

You looked up from your fingers to meet his gaze again, greedily relishing in the calm they provided you. It was always calm there. “I don’t know. But I know I don’t have the honor of meaning anything to you. Maybe we didn’t get along, or maybe we just never meshed. But I can tell you struggle with this new role—whatever it is the Inner Circle has asked you to do with me. I can tell this isn’t natural for you, spending time with me, trying to be my friend.”

Azriel fell further back on his ankles, his wings unfurling from their tight coil to drape along the floor in a defeated posture. It looked wrong; you’d been around these men and their wings and they never dragged.

Azriel’s mouth parted slightly, his jaw off-centered. His gaze left you in favor of staring at the floor, and you surmised that you caught him. You figured him out. This pawn he had become—you had freed him from the game.

But then sighed and he said, “No,” and the word was whispered with so much sadness that none of this felt like a game anymore. Not that it was fun; this had never been fun.

“No,” he repeated. “Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.” He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Gods, I’ve done this so wrong.”

“Azriel, it’s—”

“Even just hearing you say my name. After so many days without it, I could sit and just listen to you talk and I would be content.”

Your fingers felt numb.

Azriel stopped staring at the ceiling.

“We have always meshed,” he said. “I was being selfish—avoiding you when I shouldn’t have. The truth, y/n, is that we are close. Very close. Rhysand, Mor, Cassian—they don’t have to ask me to forge some… bond with you because that has already been 300 years in the making.”

“But at lunch and every time I—”

“It’s hard and I have been a coward,” Azirel interrupted, shifting forward until his knees brushed against yours on the ground. “This has been inexplicably harder for you and I have been a coward and there is no part of me that wants to be away from you.”

It somehow felt as if your life was turning upside down again because you had made conclusions and assumptions and none of them were right. You had come to terms with the fact that you felt safest with a man who wanted nothing to do with you and had mourned the loss already. It had been strange to mourn something you had only just gained, but it had felt even stranger to lose Azriel.

It hadn’t felt right.

“So we’re friends?” you tentatively asked, feeling the wooden corner of the desk dig into your spine.

Azriel swallowed. “Yes.”

“And you… like being my friend?”

“Very much.”

“Are you sure?”

Azriel laughed, the sound so startlingly joyous you felt it swelling in your own chest. It filled you up, consumed you, and you wished for a long moment that you hadn’t been so willing to allow Rhys’s darkness into the crevices of your mind. This feeling belonged there. Only this.

“I am positive,” he assured, a smile lingering on his face. “Being your friend has been my crowning achievement for the last three centuries.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of an achievement,” you replied, the snark in your tone surprising you.

It seemed to surprise Azriel as well, his brows shooting to his hairline. “Fortunately, you are not the authority on my achievements, especially since you don’t remember them and can’t recall how amazing it is to be your friend.”

He kept tripping over that word—friend.

You decided to ignore it, too pleased by the way you made Azriel laugh and smile and not look at you the way he had been for the past several days.

And something was glowing in your chest, something that seemed to replace the near-constant ache you had grown so accustomed to.

Later, you would ask more questions. Later, you would ask Azriel about Day Court and the reason why he silently panicked every time you ran your hand along your temple to ease the pressure there.

But for now, you smiled at the shadowsinger, and he smiled back.

Part 5 ☁

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #if it all fell

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strawbeerossi · 9 months

Text

You Think, Genius?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.

Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).

Word Count: 2.7k

Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷

“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.

Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.

“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.

“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”

The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.

“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.

As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.

“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”

Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.

“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.

He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.

“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.

“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.

“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.

“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.

“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.

“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.

“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.

“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.

“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.

“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”

“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”

The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.

Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.

“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”

“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”

“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”

You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”

Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.

“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.

“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”

“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.

“That could’ve taken out my eye!”

“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”

That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.

“Is it a war that you want?”

“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”

That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.

“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”

“Never.”

“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.

“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”

“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.

There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.

There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.

There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.

It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.

Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.

The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.

“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”

Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.

“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.

“Are you gonna pay me for this?”

“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.

“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”

“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.

You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.

After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.

“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.

When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.

There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.

There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.

Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.

They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.

It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.

It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.

As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.

It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.

“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.

“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”

2K notes · View notes

subbmissivesuccubus · 9 months

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Bully Part 3

A/n: Happy new year/ New year's eve everyone! As promised, here is part 3. Thank you all for following and supporting me these last few months. Here's to a great year of smut ahead <3 <3 <3 I hope you enjoy your favorite pervy menaces <3

Disclaimer: Gojo X Geto X Fem!Reader. DUB-CON WARNING. READER ENJOYS WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HER BUT IT’S MESSY!!! Blackmail!!! Humiliation. Degradation. Free-use dynamics. Spankings. Public sex. Filming. Gojo gives a stranger permission to touch reader!!!

"Who knew the three of them were...well...like that." Utahime said, immediately gossiping once the taxi started to move. "I can't say I'm surprised though." Shoko said, "They're practically attached at the hip."

The girls and Nanami were sharing a cab to get back to their dorms, gossiping about what had happened during dinner. It was a fun night of drinks and banter, ended with their friend being kissed by Gojo and Geto. When asked about the nature of their relationship, the two men responded by saying they were…fuck buddies.

"She could do better." Utahime said, "I don't get why she's settling for those assholes."

Nanami looked out the window as he allowed the chatter to wash over him, not really paying attention. His mind couldn't help but go back to a week ago when he and Gojo were in class together, the only ones there and he noticed his lock screen...

"Gojo, what the fuck?" Nanami snarled as he looked at Gojo's phone, his screen flashing up as he received a message. There was a naked woman's photo set up as his lock screen, her face out of frame to accommodate her breasts and her spread legs and Nanami didn't want to even think about what was dripping out of them.

"Oh, my bad." Gojo said casually as he picked up his phone, "But she's hot right? She's my new fuck buddy~"

"Not interested." Nanami said, clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Just keep that shit to yourself. Why do you have that as your phone background?"

Before he got an answer, Geto and you walked into the room, asking them what they were talking about and when Gojo showed them the screen, Nanami noted your reaction. He didn't too much of it at the time, assuming your flustered and angered expression was over how vulgar Gojo was but now he wondered...

No. There's no way that was you, right?

Right?

~~~~~

"What the fuck was that?!" you screeched once Gojo closed the door of the taxi, smacking them both across the shoulders, "Why would you say shit like that?! Telling everyone we're fuck buddies- what will they think of me!?"

"It's the truth, right? Stop your bitching." Geto snarled on your left.

"Exactly. I'd rather you use your mouth for something else." Gojo said on your right, his fingers moving to tug at his pants, starting to undo his belt.

"Wh-What the fuck are you-" you sputtered, your eyes flickering over to the taxi driver who seemed to be paying you no mind but-

"Oh, don't worry about him. He works for my family." Gojo said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants before he tapped on the driver’s seat, "Hey, you don't mind if this whore sucks my cock back here, do you?"

You yelped at Gojo's words, face a bright red as you heard the taxi driver chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, boss." he said, not even looking back as he put up the divider, giving the three of them some privacy.

"There we go. Happy?" Gojo asked as he leaned back against the leather seat, his arm reaching up to grab you by the back of your head. You gasped as he gripped onto a handful of your hair and tugged harshly, his hold on your unrelenting as he started to pull your head down to his lap.

"Get to sucking."

~~~~~

Oh God.

You ran your hands through your hair, eyes wide as you went over what happened last night. You had hoped it was a dream but...it wasn't. You got fingered in the restaurant, got kissed in front of everybody by your bullies before said bullies announced that you were all fuck buddies.

They got you back to one of Gojo's penthouses, (the bastard so rich he had multiple houses he could just use whenever he wanted) and once you reached it, having sucked them both off in the taxi, they cleaned you up the best they could before the three of you passed out on the bed. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, too drunk and loopy to do anything else.

Which is how you found yourself in between them, the two men still sleeping as you contemplated moving country and changing your identity.

To your right, Gojo groaned, his eyes pressing tightly as he fought away the need to wake up, moving from his back to his side and throwing an arm around you. You froze as he pressed himself close to you, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "Fuuuuck..." he cursed, frowning, "My head is killing me..."

"Don't make it our problem." Geto groaned, woken up by his own hangover and Gojo's whining. He looked over at you, taking your appearance in, looking quite delectable in Gojo's oversized t-shirt.

"Mmph- gimme those tits..." Geto said as he fisted the hem of your t-shirt before he pulled it up harshly, bunching it all underneath your chin. You gasped as he immediately leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it a few times before he sealed his lips around it. A groan on content left his throat as he started suckling on you gently, truly using your boobs as stress relief for his hangover, the pressure at which he sucked your nipple increasing and decreasing at a slow pace.

"I-I hate you two." you said even as a hand came up to thread through Geto's hair, watching as he closed his eyes and suckled on you. It was honestly a bit soothing, feeling him suckle on you gently and not maul on your nipple the way they usually did. Gojo grunted as he too moved down your body and took your other breast into his mouth, sloppier than Geto but still suckling on you hard enough to make your toes curl.

"Oh God...people are going to think I’m a whore..." you lamented, tossing your head back and accepting your fate, fingers threading through their hair as they used your body. "It's accurate." Geto teased, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before going back to sucking. "Exactly. And who cares what they think." Gojo said, running his tongue over the plush of your breast, making your whole boob wet with his saliva, "You're our whore and that's all you'll be."

"Whatever." you said, not even having the energy to argue. You simply lied down, almost going back to sleep from the sensation of them gently nursing on you. But within five minutes, Gojo was bored.

"Come on, let's go take a shower." Gojo said, pushing himself up with a groan as he got off the bed, but not before grabbing your wrist. Geto growled as Gojo pulled at you, not appreciating being interrupted as he wrapped his arms around you and glared at his friend even as he continued to suckle.

"Don't look at me like that." Gojo said, sticking out his tongue, "You can take her after I play with her."

'Play with her' meant him taking you to the shower and running his hands all over your body like a pervert, squeezing your flesh and washing every nook and cranny as he ordered you to stay still. Sometimes he'd fuck you- other time's he'd simply jerk off and cum on you- always something new with Gojo.

Geto growled, making you shiver at the sensation around your sensitive bud before he pulled away with a pop, a hickey already forming on the fat of your breast.

"Let's all shower together." he said, sitting up as well, "We have a mission today and the principal will kill us if we're late."

Oh right. You were assigned a mission with these two menaces. And if it wasn't tough enough dealing with them before they started fucking you, you can only imagine the shit you're going to have to put up with now. You sighed as the two men grabbed you and lifted you off of the bed, taking the t-shirt off of you and smacking your ass before pushing you towards the bathroom for a very...thorough bath.

~~~~~

"What's with the face?" Geto asked, tapping his finger on his arm as he waited for Gojo to finish getting dressed, "Doesn't it fit?"

"This- I can't wear this! It’s too short!" you protested, tugging at the skirt...if you could even call it that. You were wearing the school uniform but instead of your usual pants, the boys had demanded you wear something else. A mini skirt. The skirt only reached your thighs, even the slightest movements threatening to flash your whole ass.

"Might as well give the curses something to ogle at before they die." Geto teased, looking you up and down, nodding his head in satisfaction.

"Fuck you! I'm not wearing this!" you said, pressing your legs together as you reached for your discarded pants. But before you could even touch the fabric, you felt a sharp pain on your behind, a slap so loud and hard that it made you yelp, the force pushing you face first onto the bed. You whipped your head around, face hot as Geto stood above you, pushing up the skirt a bit to marvel at the red handprint he left behind.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." he said as he pulled his phone out, pointing the camera at you and you couldn't stop him from taking a picture, "But it would be a shame if I accidentally sent this to the schools group chat~"

"...I'll wear it."

"Smart girl." Geto said with a laugh, the sound making your ears heat up in embarrassment. It made you shiver, thinking about all the material they had on you. Pictures, videos, text messages... they continued to torment you and it didn't seem like they'd get bored anytime soon.

And neither would you.

"Get on your knees and keep your face down." Geto ordered, still pointing his phone at you while he used the other hand to push the skirt up entirely, bunching it at your waist and exposing your panties, "Shake your hips. Grind that ass on me."

You gasped as you felt him move forward and press his crotch against your ass, his hardening cock obvious even through the fabric. He started to gently dry hump you, a somewhat bored expression on his face, like it was a chore to use your body to get off. He landed another sharp spank on your butt, reminding you that he was waiting for you to follow orders.

You bit your lower lip, fisting the bed-sheet tightly as you did as he asked, wiggling your hips and shaking your butt against Geto, gasping as you felt him grow harder against you. As you continued to shake, the door opened and Gojo walked in, dressed in his uniform as well.

He whistled as he watched the two of you, noting the redness of your ass cheeks. "Was she being naughty?" he asked, taking Geto's phone from him and continuing to film, giving his friend free reign to humiliate you easier. "She tried to be." Geto said, reeling his hand back and spanking a cheek one more time before he grabbed your hips tightly, "But you know how she is. It's easy to put her in her place."

You yelped as Geto started to thrust against you, pushing his clothed erection against your clothed cunt as he dry humped you, the flesh of your butt rippling against him as he fake fucked you. Somehow, this felt more embarrassing than if he actually stuffed his cock inside you- it was like he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort but still wanted some pleasure.

He humped you a few times before he called it, pushing your hips away from him and making you collapse on the bed, your knees giving out as you panted against the bedsheet, face red hot with shame. You barely processed Gojo coming behind you, sliding his hand up your waist before he whisked your panties off, tugging them off of your legs before throwing them to the side. You were about to spread your legs, assuming the man was either going to eat you out or fuck you but he simply gave your butt a pat before saying:

"Get up. We gotta go."

"Wh-huh?" you babbled, watching as Gojo grabbed your skirt and pulled it down over your butt, the fabric barely covering you. You pushed yourself off of the bed and stood up, ears flushed as you once again were made aware of just how short the miniskirt was. All it took was for one small movement for anyone to see your privates. "Th-then why did you-"

"You thought being spanked was your punishment?" Gojo asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Nah. You don't get to wear panties."

"No- You can't!" you protested, pressing your hand between your legs, trying to pretend like your cunt wasn't gushing.

"Principal is asking if we've left yet." Geto said, interrupting the conversation, "I could send him a picture of you over Gojo's knee, getting your ass spanked and explain exactly why we're running late. Shall we do that?"

"...Let's go."

Gojo’s driver from last night was picking the three of you up and to your horror but not surprise, Gojo ordered you to sit in the passenger’s seat. You could feel the driver’s eyes on you as you tried to get into the car without flashing him, all decency thrown out the window as you practically covered your bare pussy with your hand as you sat down beside the stranger.

"Did you see her pussy?" Gojo asked once he settled down in the back, Geto beside him.

"I'm afraid not, Sir. She was covering herself." The driver confessed, quite expressionless.

"How rude. Hey," Gojo said, getting your attention as he tugged at your ear, "Spread your legs. Let him see your cunt."

You jumped, your ears ringing at his command, jaw dropping to the floor at the shameful demand. You pussy was already wet- "I- that's- I can't do that!"

"Either you spread your legs or I rip that skirt off and toss you out of the car. Your choice."

With a gulp, you took a deep, shaky breath, your heart hammering in your ears before you slowly started spreading your legs. You heard the driver’s breath hitch as your skirt bunched up, completely exposing your puffy pussy to him. He even leaned forward a bit to get a good look at you, making you close your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.

You pressed your mouth close tightly so they wouldn't hear you moan.

"What do you think? Good pussy, right?" you heard Gojo ask, the other two men also leaning forward to look at you like they weren't more than familiar with your body.

"She's beautiful," the driver responded, "so puffy and cute~"

"Why don't you touch her a bit?"

You gasped, back arching off the seat as you immediately felt a hand on your pussy. Your eyes snapped open, watching as the driver had indeed slid his hand between your legs and was touching you. A total stranger was rubbing your cunt!

"She's so wet~" the man teased, a smile on his face as his fingers glided between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness echoing through the car, "Oh, she feels amazing."

"Doesn't she? She's a perfect little fuck toy~" Gojo said, biting his lower lip as he watched you get touched by the driver, a twinge of possessiveness popping up as he eventually ordered him to stop. The man immediately listened, pulling his hand away from your pussy before licking his fingers off your juices, the action making you moan in embarrassment.

"You know where to take us, right?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Get to it. And you," Gojo said, kicking your seat and getting your attention, "Keep your legs spread, got it? Give him something to look at while he drives."

After the long and awkward car ride where you kept your legs spread the whole time, the three of you were dropped off at your location (but not before the driver got to cop another feel). It was an abandoned location, decrepit and having a strong vibe of curses. The cursed energy was so strong it made your skin crawl and your teeth chatter. But you knew you had nothing to worry about. Not only were you strong, but you also had the two idiots with you who were labelled the strongest sorcerers.

It was strange that the curses were not the things that were making you nervous. You tried not to think about how you were used as a toy. As a plaything. As something they can give other people permission to use as they pleased. You couldn’t believe that just seconds ago- a random stranger had their hands on your most private part.

You tried not to think about how much you loved it. "Lead the way." Geto said, giving your butt a pat before you started walking. You didn't need to look behind you to know that they were taking pictures of you, Gojo one time practically putting the camera between your legs and taking an upward shot.

"Stop- I'm trying to focus!" you complained, pulling down the skirt as best as you could which you knew barely did anything.

"You'll only focus once you stop worrying about your outfit. It's just us here, after all." Geto said, "So flash that pussy and find the curse."

"I don't see you two doing any work." you said, cheeks red as you glared at them, "Find the curses, why don't you."

"Nah." Gojo said, idly scrolling through his phone, his glasses reflecting the photos he just took of you.

"The fuck you mean, nah?"

"It's your job to find and defeat the curses today." Geto explained, giving you a sly smile, "Do a good job and we might put in a good word with Yaga. Our recommendation means something, you know."

"...you guys are never that nice." you said, smelling a scheme, "what do you want?"

"We don't want anything." Gojo said, "And as long as you do as you're told, of course. Now push that skirt up and show me your ass."

You huffed, quickly realizing what this mission was going to be.

But hey, if you get a promotion through this...then perhaps you can stick it out.

You gripped your skirt and pulled it up, not having to do much as your peach butt got exposed. The two men laughed and whistled, getting enjoyment and more blackmail material: many pictures of you, in uniform, at a location of curses, flashing your butt. And this was only the beginning.

As you started tracking down the curse, your senses were on high alert and you gradually forgot about the skirt, the shiver you felt as you got in contact with the thick cursed energy making you decide that you needed to focus on the task as hand. You blocked out the two of them following behind you and you blocked out the sensation of your skirt riding up enough for your lower half to be almost bare. When you sprinted up the stairs, feeling a curse nearby, your skirt rode up completely and you only pulled it down once you reached the top.

In front of you was a curse, not a special grade but not weak either. It was a large, disgusting looking thing, oozing power but you knew it was not as strong as you.

"I'm guessing the two of you aren't going to help?" you asked, getting ready as the curse spotted you. "Nope." they responded, Gojo's phone out and pointing at you, taking a video, "all yours."

You didn't have time to respond as the curse suddenly lunged at you, dragging its disgusting body with surprising speed as it gained to attack. You sprinted around it, your body swift and deadly, understanding the way the curse worked in a matter of seconds. You countered every move with your own, slowly weakening it before you exorcised it, the curse dissipating in the wind.

"That was pretty decent, even for you." Geto said once Gojo stopped recording, "you didn't even let the fact that your whole pussy is out stop you from doing the job. Well done."

You looked down and sure enough, from all the running and the dodging and the fighting, your skirt had ridden up once more and your cunt was totally out in the open. You blushed and you quickly pulled the skirt back down, your ears turning red from the embarrassment.

"Fuck. I'm horny now." Gojo muttered as he pocketed his phone, "Hey, hands on the wall- I'm gonna fuck you."

"Wh-" you sputtered, blushing heavily, "But we're busy!"

"Geto can deal with it. My balls come first. Pun intended."

The black haired man rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face as he said: "Fine. But I'm fucking her once I’m back so you better finish by then."

"No promises~"

Not caring about your response, Gojo walked upto you, gripping you by the back of your neck before he pushed you gently against the nearest wall, his other hand pulling your skirt up. Geto walked past the two of you, following the curse as he left you behind to get a pounding.

"Oh, you're so wet, you nasty bitch." Gojo snarked, grinning as he felt you up, his fingers sliding between your folds, "You loved walking around in this slutty little mini skirt, huh? Yeah, I know you loved it. Probably wanted us to fuck you this whole time."

"D-Don't flatter yourself!" you retorted, wincing as he pinched the plush of your butt before he changed your position a bit. "Mhmm. You're real fucking convincing. Now spread your legs. I want to fuck this nasty pussy."

Grabbing you by the hips, he made you bend forward, your palms against the wall and your ass presented to him. He continued to play with your pussy, two fingers easily sliding inside of you while his other hand got to work on his pants. He simply slid them down enough for his cock to pop out, hard, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from the red tip. He tapped it against your ass, staining your skin with his fluid before he took his finger out and pressed the tip against your cunt.

He didn't care for foreplay and he didn't care if you felt good. He was here to fuck and that's what he was going to do. And you were going to take it.

"Oh yeah, that's a good pussy~" he groaned as he started pushing inside of you, his cockhead popping into you easily from how wet and dripping you were. You hated to admit it but running and around and flashing your privates had gotten you hot and bothered, even if you were just exposing yourself to the two men who were more than familiar with your body.

You gasped as he continued to bully his cock inside you, eventually bottoming out and spreading your cunt so deliciously wide. His groans were audible through the empty hallways, both his hands now grasping your hips greedily. With a lick of his lips and no warning, the man started to thrust, starting off a bit slow. Your moans jumped with each thrust, your ass rippling against his hips each time he fucked his cock deep, deep inside you.

Despite the many times you've gotten thoroughly pounded by Gojo, you simply can't seem to get used to his size. His cock was deliciously long and thick and each thrust in had his leaking cockhead pressed up against your womb. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises on instinct, slick dripping down your legs and staining the floor.

"Fuuuuck- I'm addicted to this free use pussy!" Gojo growled as he not so gently smacked your ass, laughing at your squeal, "Bend you over and fuck you anytime- claim you as my personal whore. I fucking love it!"

“Shut the fuck u-u-upppp!” you squealed, his cock curving just right and bumping against your special spot, a rush of pleasure sparking through your spine. Gojo simply spanked you again before he used that hand to grab your hair, pulling at it roughly. You gasped as your head was pulled back, the pain of your hair being tugged at addicting.

“I felt your pussy tighten, bitch~” Gojo snarled with a smirk, “You love being bullied by us so much- it’s so pathetic and I love it.”

“You’re pathe- ohhh right there- right there!”

“Yeah? Here? Little bitch likes it when my cocks hits her right here?”

Gojo angled his hips so he hit your g-spot with every thrust forward, the clap of his hips against your butt practically echoing through the hallway. You couldn’t hold back your moans, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s leaving you as he pounded your cunt like a toy. You didn’t know how long the two of you were there for, fucking in the open, in the middle of the abandoned building. You were so focused on the pleasure that you didn’t notice the pressure of the curses suddenly disappear.

“Are you done yet? It’s my turn to cream her cunt.”

You groaned as Geto walked over to the two of you, wiping his mouth.

“I still got the taste of a curse on my tongue. I’d like to wash it down with her pussy.”

“Fuck- wait for a bit.” Gojo said, panting heavily, sweat marring his brow, “I’m almost done.”

“Nope. I’m not waiting.” Geto said, punching Gojo in the shoulder and ruining his rhythm, “Plus, there’s another curse that needs killing and I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.”

“You want- fuck-“ Gojo cursed, stilling inside you to give Geto a look, “You want me to fight a curse with a hardon?”

“Well, she fought one with her pussy out so I’m sure you can manage.”

Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes before he conceded, “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.”

“I do not. Now get going.” Gojo pulled out of you, the slick sound of it making your body shiver as his erect cock stood tall, covered in your juices. He tucked himself back in his pants the best he could, his dick still straining against his pants as he quickly walked away, a determined look in his eyes. He wanted to finish off this final curse as soon as he could so he could get back to destroying your pussy.

Before you could even blink, a bit dazed from the lack of pleasure, Geto was on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your asscheeks before he pulled them apart and surged forward. Blood rushed upto your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy as Geto stuffed his face between your cheeks. He groaned as he rubbed his face on you for a bit, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh against him like a pervert before he stuck his tongue out and got to licking. He took a long, greedy lick from your clit all the way upto your asshole, teasing your rim before slightly sticking his tongue inside.

Your body shivered, little gasps leaving your mouth at his shameless actions, the man starting to eat you out like a messy meal. He clearly didn't care if you felt good, his movements sloppier than usual, and obviously just wanted a taste. But that didn't stop your body from responding to him, your hips subconsciously pushing out in a silent plea for more, your pussy dripping. He lapped up your juices, drinking you down with a groan as his hands continued to squeeze and pinch at your cheeks.

“Fucking- perfect.” He moaned against you, his words vibrating your clit and making your knees shake, “Just what I needed.”

With a final, toe-curling suck to your clit, he stood up, ordering you to turn around and face him as he started undoing his pants. Your back was pressed against the wall, Geto standing close enough for your chests to almost touch. “Take your top off. Get naked for me.” He groaned as he fished his dick out, giving it a few tugs as he eyed you down like you were a piece of meat. You gulped, heart beating fast in your chest as you hurriedly started to unbutton your blouse, trying to pretend like you weren’t eager.

If they knew just how needy you felt…

Geto suddenly grabbed you by the waist once your buttons were undone before he lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped as he slammed you tightly against the wall, feeling his cock throb against your eager cunt as your legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed onto the cup of your bra before pulling the right one down, exposing that nipple. He bent down and took it into his mouth, the man clearly having an obsession with your tits as he started suckling.

His eyelashes tickled your skin as he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud, giving it a few flicks with the tip before sealing his lips around it and giving it a toe-curling suck. As he suckled, his other hand slid down and grabbed his cock, tapping it a few times against your pussy before he slid in, the glide easy thanks to Gojo’s previous pounding.

“Ah- fuck-yes-“ you gasped out, unable to hold yourself back, briefly registering that all traces of curses had disappeared in an instant, Gojo having finished the job. It was only a matter of time before he rushes to the two of you, demanding to be back inside you.

This was what you were expected to do for them. Be a pair of spread legs for them to use whenever they want- to be fucked silly- to be bred- to be truly and utterly degraded. Maybe Gojo would make you suck his cock. Maybe the two of them would swap places. Or maybe they’d finally fuck your ass.

From the corner of your eye, your vision blurry thanks to the tears from how harshly Geto was pounding into you, you could see someone hurriedly walk towards you, unbuttoning his pants along the way and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh among your moans.

Today was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

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1K notes · View notes

sweetinsaniiity · 3 months

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My Life For Hire

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - frat boy!san x college!Y/N ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - switched bodies!, plot with smut, cursing, betrayal, enemies-to-lovers, semi-funny, San is an !ass, but so are you, bickering while having sex, love-making, sweet sex (no rough fucking this time, ya nasty people), blowjob, name-saying kink, permission-asking, creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!)◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, mentions of extreme violence, childhood abuse, body disfigurement (via burn marks), fighting scene ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 18.1K (+ bonus scene!) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Choi San was a man you harbor great loathing for. He betrayed you out of nowhere, and it cost you your whole life. You were ready to hate him for the rest of your life, until both of you were forced to work together after switching bodies, and then San claims he never betrayed you. How long will you pretend to be each other until you two get caught? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Hello again <3 I wanted to publish this sooner but I wasn't feeling well so I had to take a bit of a break. This is definitely not my best work since this genre isn't my strongest suit. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent Ateez in real life. Join the taglist here. Title from A Day To Remember ◄

"So is anyone attending that party at the frat boys' dorms?"

I took a deep breath through my nose, hoping that the gesture would calm me down and not let my frustrations get the best of me.

Hyolyn, a close friend of mine, latches on my arm. "Our Y/N works a little too hard," she pouted. "You should come with us."

"You know I can't," I sighed. "It's not that I don't want to either, my finals are around the corner and I can't slack off."

Of course I wanted to go, just like the other normal people my age, and in college, no less. I wasn't the studious type nor was I someone who cared too much if my grades tanked, but I do want to graduate at least.

The cafeteria wasn't the ideal place for me to glance at my notes every now and then, but hey, the sooner I finish this, the sooner my life gets a bit easier and smooth sailing after.

"Ugh, can't they keep it down?" another friend of mine, Seolhyun, grumbled. She was the pretty but nerdy type, it made her charming. "I'm trying to study here, Professor Byun will literally fail me..."

I took an apprehensive glance at the far corner of the college cafeteria, and I couldn't help but be annoyed as well, and soon it became even rowdier when this particular group strolls in and creates more noise pollution.

"You fuckers be ready for the party tonight!"

"Beer pong anyone?"

"Everyone better attend and be ready to fuck things up!”

They were Ateez, a bunch of immature frat boys that took pride in annoying the living daylights out of everybody they encountered. They were loud, boisterous, and rambunctious.

I tried to get back at my sad excuse of a lunch - by that, I meant soggy veggies, gamey meat, cold soup, go figure - and my boring class notes, but the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. That's how I knew someone was watching me.

And I was right, someone was, or rather, someone was murdering me with their eyes.

Choi San.

He was seated at the far corner of the cafeteria along with the rest of cronies, leaned back a little comfortably on his chair with his arms crossed, and glaring at me with such intensity, and not participating at the rowdiness of Ateez.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I stared angrily.

He seemed to get the message. He shrugged his shoulders and glared harder. "What are you looking at?" he scowled.

I scoffed, the grimace clear on my face. "Can you guys keep it the hell down?" I mouthed at him wryly.

I gripped my pen so tight in my hand I'm surprised it didn't snap off. Oh, how I wanted to rip that menacing smirk off of his face. "What are you going to do about it?"

I stared at the way he licked his bottom lip then poked his cheek with the same tongue. He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for the comeback that I always delivered to him, but not today, Satan. He looked at me with so much contempt, I was forced to look away.

"Guys, I have to go," I packed my stuff hurriedly in my satchel with a tight smile. I heard my friends complain under their breaths, I can't tell them but that the reason is that, mainly, I was avoiding San.

He was still staring at me with that nasty smirk he's always had. I had to resist the urge to march over to him and gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

Staring became our only form of communication for a couple of years now. It was a contest between us, and winning came with a reward - the satisfaction of seeing one of us falter.

San tilted his head curiously as he watched me pack my things. His eyes were unblinking, they were harsh enough to see directly right through me. Perhaps it was the way he looked at me that gave his intentions away.

I wasn't going to give in to him. I sneered at him, unwavering as I slowly walked towards the cafeteria's exit.

I grimaced when I realized I had to pass him in order to do so. Curse him, I thought bitterly. I'm fine, I just have to ignore him---

"Oh, oh, oh no," I panicked when I accidentally tripped on something and began falling straight to the ground face down.

This was it, the end of my social life, and the end of my reputation.

"Careful. You don’t want to fall on your face, do you?"

This was my nightmare personified - tripping and falling directly in San's arms. I sighed deeply, forcing myself to look at him as he held my waist a little too tight for my liking.

"Unhand me, you swine," I hissed, grabbing onto his arm and pushing it away.

San clicked his tongue mockingly. "I help and this is what I get in return? You wound me." He leaned close to my ear and whispered something soft enough for only the both of us to hear. "I get it. You've always acted like you have a stick up your ass."

I scoffed blaringly loud enough to catch pretty much everybody's attention. It was embarrassing, but my anger towards San prevailed.

"I'm sorry, were you dropped on your head as an infant?" I snapped. "Or were you just born stupid?"

Ohhs and a couple of laughs were heard across the cafeteria. His friends stared at us in amusement. San had a devilish grin on his face, but I knew him. The way his eyes glinted with something dangerous - he was angry.

"This isn't over," he growled lowly.

With that, I turned away from and left not only the cafeteria, but the university in general to head back to my dormitory. San always bought out the demon in me, and I was exhausted.

In the end, I decided to go to that party, even though one of his frat buddies, either Wooyoung or Mingi, hosted it. Needless to say, Hyolyn and Seolhyun were over the moon. I decided to get ready the moment the sun went down.

"You fool," I muttered, staring at the picture frame I always had on my table. I paused from getting ready and stared at it for a while.

It was San and me, grinning widely at the camera without a care around us. One glance and it was like we were in high school again, before all the dumb decisions and before we both drifted apart.

It's been four years since then and I will never get over the loss.

The party was unfortunately a blast. As much as I disliked San and his cronies, they sure knew how to throw a good one. The mingling bodies made it a little difficult for me to move around.

"Having fun?!" a boy in my class, Haechan, raised his voice so I could hear him from the loud music.

"Sort of!" I laughed loudly.

I was loosening up, maybe it was the alcohol, but nonetheless I moved my body to the rhythm of the songs that played in the background, chugging my beer from time to time. It was honestly fun, I haven't really gone much because I really did try to concentrate on my studies.

Suddenly, someone hastily grabbed my beer cup and sloshed it on the floor. "Hey!" I shouted.

I was being dragged roughly across the room, through the sea of drunk people and vomit, outside the house the party was. I groaned when I was harshly shoved against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I laughed contemptuously at San's pissed off face. "What?" I scorned. "I can't attend parties anytime I want now?"

San looked royally pissed. He had always been the intimidating bastard, and he'd always hated the disrespect I gave him.

"You?" San sneered. "You hate parties. Did you come here to embarrass me further? Haven't you had enough?"

My heart suddenly hurt as I stared at San's disdain, and I mourned the loss of my best friend all over again. We were everything to each other, until we just weren't.

San's eyes softened, and they mirrored the same loss I mourned for. It was always like this.

My eyes flashed with anger, I glared at him and showed him how mad I was. "Get off your high horse, Choi San. I'm not the same person I was years ago."

Something cold crossed over his face; touched the corners of his eyes and glossed over them like sharp winter frost. He let out a snort, but chose not to reply. He behaved like always until it made me crack.

I was angry and frustrated that he ruined my mood, and I was getting back at him for this. “Your group of bastards irritate me, you know?"

San laughed and shook his head. “Bastards like us are born out of passion, aren’t we? We are everywhere,” he jeered.

I smirked. He always hated it when I talked shit about Ateez. “I can’t say I particularly hate your little group—“

“No? How tolerant of you.”

“—-just you, San.”

San stares at me. “You hate me that much, Y/N?"

No, I thought, I hate them from stealing you away from me and you for going along with them.

“Yes.”

His brows shot up with the revelation and I stared at him with my heart racing. I haven't been this close to him in years. I scrutinized him - he was the most handsome in my eyes, but now more so that he'd matured. One thing that never changed was he always dyed a section of his hair blonde.

I hated that piece of hair. It always garnered him the attention he never deserved.

A searing smile curled at his lips and he chuckled in amusement. "I suppose the feeling is mutual," he smirked. "You feel tough because of your boy toy, what's his name? Jaemin?"

"That's none of your business," I gritted my teeth. I was pissed, Jaemin has been nothing but good to me.

He sneered at my annoyed stance. "Are you fucking him?"

"No!" I denied faster than I'd like. I rapidly shook my head at his accusation. Embarrassed, I tried to avert my eyes from him.

San chuckled lowly. "Go home," he said, but it sounded like a threat.

"Careful now," I chuckled without humour. "People are going to think we like each other if you keep cornering me like this."

Sans arched a brow at my defiance. He clenched his jaw, the irritation slowly getting to him. "Why?" he sneered. His fingers mockingly brushed against my arm. "You like playing hard to get?"

"Ugh! You are insufferable!"

"And you are a feisty little bitch," he snapped.

"Are you fucking serious?" I cursed, moving slightly to try and get away from his presence. "You're the absolute worst, I swear to God."

"I wish I gave a fuck," he sighed with a mocking laugh.

I was about to retort something dumb, something so stupid he'll have no choice but to let me go, when the loud cracking of the thunder interrupted us. It amplified the rain that accompanied me and San's childish argument.

Taking the chance, I pushed him off and tried to storm off in the rain to my car. I wasn't in the mood to party anymore. "Let me go," I said firmly when San stopped me by holding onto my arm.

"Don't be a kid," he rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd like to see you drenched and suffering, wait the rain out for a little, then you can fuck off."

I angrily shook my arms off of his grip. "Talk to the wall," I hissed.

"I'm serious, it's slippery out there," he nagged, following me when I began to walk off, but hesitating when the rain hit him. "Come on now, Y/N."

I flipped him off. I noticed his eyes grow dark, I recoiled a bit, but chose to go on. The rain was strong, but I managed to walk off, and then the inevitable slipping that San had warned me about came in time when I accidentally stepped on mushy grass.

I screamed, flailing my arms stupidly like it would break the fall, and break it did. Except that the real reason was because a pair of arms had broken my fall.

I stared at San's wet form holding me. "Are you okay--" he began speaking, but he too, had fallen victim to the slippery slope we were in.

I cursed as we both tumbled along and San let out this guttural groan when I fell directly on top of him. I didn't register it at first, but I felt something very soft land on my face...

"Mmph!" I whimpered. To be specific, something on my lips.

San and I looked at each other wide eyed, not moving as we were too shocked to do so when we realized that our lips had met.

Then came that dizzying sensation I had never, ever felt before in my entire life when San pulled away in daze. Before I could even register the fact that San and I basically kissed, albeit by accident, I started to lose consciousness.

"You're so disgusting you literally make me sick with a single kiss,"San slurred, his eyes slowly fluttering close like mine as he held onto me tightly.

I buried myself in San's arms, scared and confused to what was suddenly to the both of us. Did someone spike the drinks?

"Likewise," was the last thing I blurted out before both him and I slumped on the ground as the world started disappearing from both of us and fainting.

There was nothing, for a moment, at least.

And then it came, in the darkness, that wonderful dream I loved dreaming about. I dreamt about it so much that I subconsciously knew I was dreaming.

The vibrant, hectic space was bursting into life. To my right, the espresso machine sputtered slowly, its sounds resonating through the air, every now and then pausing to gasp some air whilst liquid gold flowed down to be served into a cup.

"A cappuccino for you, my lady," San teased as he gave me my cup and then sat opposite to me. "And a latte for me."

It was a beautiful summer bloom, with the busy college applications looming over us. I'm surprised that San and I even had time to hang out.

"Are you really coming with me?" I frowned. "You don't have to, Sannie. I can always visit you overseas, you know that."

San clicked his tongue. "That won't be necessary," he smiled, that cute dimple he had popping out from his cheeks. "I already rejected the offer, we'll be in the same college."

Guilt crept its way into my heart at San's excited stance, and of course, he takes notice. He grabs my hand and massages it gently.

"I'm serious, Y/N, it's okay. I'd rather be with you than be alone somewhere else," he said. "I...don't think I can live without you there."

I bit my lip apprehensively. "I don't want you to give up your dreams because of me," I whispered.

He shook his head. "I'm not," he assured. "What's the point of achieving them if I'm without you?"

"What am I going to do with you, Sannie?" I giggled.

I'd loved him the most when he did the thing - dancing - he was most absolutely passionate about. It was when his eyes twinkle despite the absence of emotion on his face. They were alive in the lights, burning with the motivation to succeed as if he has been through so much and more.

And when he glances at me the same way, it was when I felt loved the most.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my breathing laboured and intensive. Fresh tears started to well up in the corners of my eyes at that dream, for it was the last time I would ever call San my best friend.

Or rather, the love of my life.

I laughed bitterly to myself. That ship sailed a long, long time ago. At this point, I was in love with the memory of how he used to be - the sweetest, kindest man. Now he's just a cocky douchebag.

I sat up on the bed, and it was when I realized that I was in an unfamiliar room. I looked around, my heart beating a little too fast for my liking, and my head pounding really, really bad.

Odd, I thought. I'm not a lightweight, this can't be a hangover.

I panicked when I heard the bedroom door jiggle and a voice rang from the outside. "San, are you awake?"

I screamed bloody murder when the door opened and tried to cover myself up. I cannot be seen dead or alive within a ten mile radius with San. "Ahh!"

"Ahhh!" the other person screamed as well.

"Ahhh!" I screamed back.

"Ahh! Why the fuck are you screaming, San?! God, my ears are busted..."

San? I gritted my teeth in annoyance under the blankets. Why wasn't he saying anything? I swear if I get my hands on him I will wring his neck.

"San? Are you okay?"

I paled when I felt the blanket suddenly pried from me. All the excuses and scenarios in my mind on how to excuse myself and maybe bribe this man into not telling anyone I was in San's bedroom.

But nothing. The person that took the blanket away from me was none other than Jung Wooyoung, San's closest friend. The familiarity in his eyes when he looked at me was creeping me out a bit. Or maybe he was just used to San having women over. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Get up, man. It's almost 10, I saved you some food earlier," Wooyoung spoke, looking at me expectantly. When I didn't reply, he frowned and touched my forehead. "You okay? You look sick."

I recoiled from his touch, and his frown turned deeper. "A-Are you talking to me?" I asked, squeaking pathetically when I realized that my voice wasn't my voice.

It was deep, rich, and it sounded a whole like San's.

Wooyoung cackled loudly. "Are you still drunk?" he jokingly hits my shoulders. "Unless there's another San in the room, then yeah, I'm talking to you."

An oncoming panic attack makes my heart beat erratically, the fear automatically bombarding my brain. The intense worry was overriding the rational part of my brain, not that there was anything rational about this.

I slapped myself hard, hoping to wake from this nightmare that I was in, but nothing. Wooyoung stares at me like I grew two heads. "Yeah, you're definitely still drunk," he mumbled.

When Wooyoung left the room, I got out of the bed so quickly that the blood rushed to my head fast and rendered me dizzy, but I didn't care. I ran to the big mirror at the corner of the room and stared at myself - or San.

"No, there is no goddamn way, this cannot be real," I muttered to myself, the mania and craze scattering my thoughts and making it impossible for me to think. "Oh my God, what the hell did I do wrong to deserve this?!"

Broad frame, toned arms and chest, almond-shaped eyes, white-stripped bangs, this was San. I brought my hand to touch my face, it was smooth, something I knew my skin wasn't. When I waved my hand dumbly in front of the mirror, I yelped when San's reflection looked back at me and did the exact same thing.

But wait, if I now San, where is the real San?

"I'll be right back!" I screamed at nobody in particular, trying very hard to appear normal when I rushed downstairs, tripping on a few steps, with a newfound vigor. The blush on my cheeks were still evident when I changed into San's clothes with my eyes closed.

It was hard because I would sweat when I'd accidentally touch what technically was his skin, but I can't just panic and mope around doing nothing. I have to find my own body.

"Ya! Don't slam the damn door!" I heard someone scream when I hurriedly ran out of the Alpha Tau Zeta frat house. It was probably Park Seonghwa. Rumour has it that he was a neat and clean freak.

I stumbled like a fool as I speed walked my way towards my own dorm house where hopefully San with my body was in. I cursed under my breath when I tripped again, barely catching myself. Curse San and how big he is!

How did this happen though? Was magic a real thing in this life all along? It didn't make sense, what kind of sick God was playing with our fates like this?

With no time to lose, I opted to jog and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized how easy it was to jog right now. But it wasn't me, San's body was the one with the insane stamina and strength to do so.

When I reached my dorm all the way to the end of the campus, I wasn't even panting or sweating. As I tried to make my way inside, the friendly security guard stopped me from walking further. It was something I appreciated living here, the safe security, but now I'm a little annoyed about it.

"Your name and who are you visiting?" the guard asked.

I cleared my throat apprehensively. "Y/N, ah, m-my name is Choi San and I'm visiting L/N Y/N."

It unnerved me to hear myself - San - talk and it was even more unnerving not to say my own name and use San's right now.

"Nope," the guard shook his head. "Miss Y/N did not put your name as a legal visitor for her."

It took a lot in me not to snort loudly in contempt. Of course I would never put San's name down. I never wanted to see his face near me ever again when I started living here.

I was about to appeal and try to sneak away, when I saw a familiar form by the doorway. My eyes widened when I saw myself seething and shaking with anger. Is that what I look like when I glare at San? I suppose no wonder he hates me.

"You," I hissed. I cringed when San stared back at me, maybe my face and body, but those eyes belong to San. It's definitely him in my body.

I marched over to him, ignoring the protests of the guard and dragged him into my room in a hurry, not caring if we both looked weird.

"Can you not treat me like a ragdoll? You're hurting me!" San barked, but not doing anything but following. It was weird hearing my own voice talk to me like this.

"Ah," I uttered sarcastically. "Now you know what I feel like when I tell you."

San glares at me and I had this urge to just submit, but I carry on. "Don't be a pussy, San."

It was true. San had a habit of grabbing onto my arm when he wanted something, especially now that his only goal in life was to drive me to my grave.

While me and San - or more like, San and me - were having the death march towards my room, the uncomfortable stares of the people we passed were undeniable. Everybody knew San and I hated each other, it wasn't necessarily a secret, so seeing us together was such a treat.

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Sometimes I forget how shallow people can get. Is this the fame that San got everyday? Every stare was a mixture of confusion, awe, and lust.

"You can't just go out like this!" I screamed at a confused San when I closed the door behind me.

"Like what?" he asked. God, it felt weird to hear myself like that.

"That!" I incredulously said, hastily pointing at the nightgown San currently had on me. "You're basically naked, I'm basically naked!"

San rolled his eyes, plopping on my bed with a heaviness that annoyed me. "I tried putting on a bra," he mumbled, his ears red with embarrassment. "Don't look at me like that, I swear I did! How the hell do you women live with that thing? I couldn't breathe!"

I stared at him wide-eyed, a sudden thought infiltrating my mind and making me extremely nervous. "Did you, uhm," I stammered ridiculously. San lifted a brow to stare at me. "Did you look?"

He was confused at first, but when the realization dawned on him, his face reddened too. "No!" San boomed, clearly flustered at the accusation. I deadpanned at him. It was so fascinating.

"Contrary to your popular belief, I'm not like that," he scoffed, staring straight into me. "And you know it. I could say the same to you, though."

It was my turn to scoff at his ludicrousness. "Please," I sneered. "The little worm between your legs isn't even worth snooping at."

San crossed his arms with a dirty smirk on his face. "I suppose that's how I know you didn't look."

"Wha--oh," I faltered when I realized what he was talking about. He cackled when I threw a pillow at him. "You're disgusting," I spat.

Everything dawns on me all once now that we've talked a little and are in the comfort of my own room. Thank the Gods I insisted on having my own back then, or this would've been more of a nightmare than it already was.

We didn't say a word to each for a moment, lost in the discernment that we had actually really been switched - that this wasn't a joke and something had happened between us that we had no idea about.

I swallowed the lump that began to form in my throat. What if this was permanent? This could potentially destroy my life, and as much as I am upset with San, I don't wish to ruin his life, either.

I gasped softly when I felt my hand being massaged softly. "Calm down," San murmured. "We'll figure it out."

What was supposed to be relaxing, turned out to be nauseating for me. It's been so long and he still remembers what calms me down.

"This place is surprisingly nice," he said, looking around my room. "Who's paying the rent?"

"I am," I shrugged.

His grip on my hand tightens ever so slightly. "Your mom doesn't?" San asked in contempt.

I looked at him through his narrowed eyes. I can tell that there was no malicious intent behind the question, rather, he was sad. My chest pangs, it had that angst we both had when we were younger.

"As if," I scoffed weakly. "You know how it is, San..."

His eyes switched gears from contempt to cold anger that wasn't necessarily directed towards me. "Mark my words," he snarled. "One day, I will scrap that stepfather of yours, I swear to God, I'm going to--"

"You will do no such thing," I hissed angrily. "And how? Look at us, we're not in our real bodies right now! I don't know if it isn't obvious enough, but I'm not exactly the strongest bunch out there."

"That's not true," San dismisses.

"You don't get it do you? I'm so frustrated and I want to pound my hands on the floor like a toddler!"

"I get it, Y/N--"

"And it had to be you of all people! God, it's so easy to be cruel with you right now but I'm not like you---"

"Can you just shut your trap for once and let me think of what's happening?" San snapped, letting my hand go roughly.

In my panic, a stupid idea pops in my head. "It was the kiss wasn't it?" I blurted out. I grabbed his (my) shoulders frantically. "We can just kiss again and it will undo itself!"

His eyes widened comically when I leaned down and crashed my lips against his. When nothing happens, I kiss him over and over again, until he pushes me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" San squeaked. It dawned on me what I had just done and I blush hard. The only time I got to kiss San was when I did it myself from his body. What a sad way to live.

"You act like I wanted to do that," I fretted, trying to change the topic. My brain exploded when I saw him lick his lips slowly and his throat bob up when he swallowed. "That's your brain thinking for you, really? N-Not that you ever used it," I stammered.

"It's called being rational," he sighed. "Something you're not."

"Wow, look who's talking," I scoffed. "Spoken like a true asshole, you don't even know what's going on."

"You really are a cunt, aren't you?" San insulted. "Can you just please listen to me for once?"

"Last time I did that, I was abandoned."

San paused, a flash of regret flashing through his eyes. He knew that I saw, but he made no effort to hide it, so he does what he does best - deflect blame.

"Ah, yes. You say that as if you were the first one to feel it, Y/N. What other insights have you bought me today?"

"I wonder if you're the worst person I've ever met. I hardly recall, but horrid people really do stand out, do they?" I rolled my eyes.

San sighed deeply, clearly frustrated. "Look," he began rubbing my temples. "We're going nowhere here, how about we research for now?"

He pointed at my bed where my laptop was. "We can use that for now. Do you have class today?"

This was how it was between him and I. We'd be fighting like cats and dogs then we'd work together temporarily to solve a problem. "No," I shook my head as I sat on my bed to grab the laptop. "I'm off for four days. Professor Lee is sick."

"Okay, good. We have the same professor," he sat beside me. My heart lurched when I felt the bed dip with the weight. "You want to use that or list information?"

"Paper," I mumbled, handing him the device. "You've always been better at technology."

It was the truth. He hummed in response, typing up stuff I barely even knew to begin with. "What was the last thing you remember last night?"

That was a good question. "I-I don't remember," I trailed off. "How did we both get home?"

"I was awake enough but not for long. I don't remember who took me, but I know Mingi took you home with what's her name, Saeyeon?"

"Seolhyun," I corrected. I felt my throat constricting with the newfound information.

What San really meant was, 'I fought to be awake until I saw you safe.’

"I'm surprised your bunch didn't leave me stranded out there," I scoffed.

To my surprise, San smiled lightly. "They're not what you think," he said. It left a bad taste in my mouth, but I suppose I respected the love he held for them.

And then we were silent. We brainstormed and tried to research every little thing about our case. It was genuinely frustrating and disheartening, most of the things we found ranged from the supernatural to just pure fallacy.

Our case was purely unique. That or nobody who has experienced it documented it for the world to see. I don't blame them, I wouldn't believe anyone unless I was certain it was fiction.

"What's up?" I asked San, who kept staring at me while I wrote every detail he told me to. Maybe all the anxiety and nervousness I held was because of the way his eyes held me a prisoner.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just that we haven't been in the same room for a long, long time."

I held his stare with a curious look in my eyes. He was right, I hadn't even thought of that. "What exactly are you thinking?"

"That I'm glad it was you," he answered with raw honesty. "This situation isn't ideal for the both of us, but I'm less terrified because it's you."

A puzzle piece of my heart once fell down, because it knew it never belonged there anymore. San left, he didn't belong with me anymore. It struck a nerve, what he just said, because I felt the exact same way - it was either him or nothing.

I nodded, holding my breath because if I didn't, I would say something I will regret. "Did you find anything?"

The small smile on his lips faded, but he nodded despite his feelings. It broke my heart to downgrade my expectations of him. "No," he cleared his throat. "Move in the frat house for the time being with me."

I raised a brow at his suggestion, but on the inside, my heart wanted to leap out my chest and onto San's hand. "Why?"

"I can't stay here, your roommates will notice," he explained. "And you can't stay alone in the frat house. They might look and act like idiots, but they're the furthest from it. They will know."

As much as I hated to admit it, San was right. "Where am I going to stay though?" I frowned.

"In my room. You sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor. We have extra futons," he shrugged nonchalantly.

I agreed immediately. I packed whatever essentials I need and some clothes enough to last me a while, because something is telling me that we're going to be like this for a while.

I left a note for Hyolyn and Seolhyun, saying that I'm going to stay with a friend for now because they're in trouble. Hopefully they don't sense that it's San.

"Don't get any ideas though," I mumbled when we both reached the front door of his frat house. "We're not friends."

He smirked as he rang the doorbell. "Wow. What's got you questioning our friendship?"

"I'm not questioning our friendship, San. I'm denying its existence."

San was about to retort something stupid, when the door suddenly opened. I had to stop myself from drooling at the sight in front of us. It was Kang Yeosang.

"Sannie?" a shirtless Yeosang appeared from the doorway. I knew he was handsome, but goddamn. "Why are you ringing the doorbell?"

I felt a sharp jab to my side, it was San elbowing me. "Uh, h-hi, can I s-stay here with him--her!" I stammered pathetically.

Yeosang stared at me like I was crazy. "You live here, San."

Fuck.

Before I could incriminate myself further, San grabbed my arm and began pushing past an even more confused Yeosang. I heard him - me - curse under his breath when we reached the living room.

Everyone was in there, I mean literally every single one of them, Ateez, were just lounging. They all turned to us with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. I get it, though. Me and San being together in one room without fighting was a miracle in itself.

"Don't ask!" San shouted as he dragged me into his room. It must have been because all they see is a tiny woman dragging a bigger man.

When he closed the door behind us, he laid it all out on me. "Seriously, Y/N?" he hissed. "Yeosang got you panting like a bitch in heat?"

"What can I say?" I taunted him. "I appreciate a hunk when I see one."

"You're lucky it wasn't Jongho," he seethed as he arranged the extra futon he was referring to on the floor. "Jongho would've literally chewed you out on the spot for acting weird."

I didn't bother replying. How was I supposed to tell him that he has been the only guy I've seen shirtless before?

We decided that tomorrow is another day, hopefully back in our respective bodies, and we can discuss tomorrow about our next move. For now, we will sleep.

It was comfortable, at least for me, I was in San's bed wrapped up in his scent. I shamelessly inhaled his pillow deeply, God, I've always loved his scent even before and especially now. I sighed, not being able to sleep despite being comfortable. He's matured now, both in looks and the way he acts.

After an hour or so of just thinking, sleep crept up to me, until it didn't.

"Y/N?"

My mind didn't register what I was hearing until San repeated my name over and over again. I got up and saw him already sitting down on the bed. "San? What's up?" I asked groggily.

"Can you help me? I-I'm scared," he stuttered, shaking his leg a bit. I guess some things don't change, San always does that when nervous.

I turned the lampshade he had on so I could take a better look at him. He was pale and genuinely scared. My heart started to hammer against my chest and I grabbed his hand out of reflex.

"Sannie?" I gently asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I think I'm dying," he professed. "M-My stomach h-hurts bad..."

Well, that woke me up completely. "Come again?" I blinked repeatedly at him.

With shaking hands, he pointed at the floor and at first I didn't see it, but when my eyes focused, I saw what appeared to be droplets of blood.

"Sannie," I called out. "Stand up for me, I need to look at something."

He did as asked and I sighed. As expected, the crotch area of his pajamas had blood on them. For the first time in a while, I felt bad for him.

"I'm sorry," I apologized genuinely. "I didn't know I'd be having my period so soon."

San's face drops in realization and relief when he hears that it was only technically 'his' period and he wasn't bleeding randomly to death. "Seriously, though?" I teased. "You had a sister and a mother, how could you not know?"

"You had me and male friends but you technically didn't know how it felt peeing from a dick," he snapped.

"Touché," I chortled. I stood up from the bed and put a soiled shirt of mine on the bed and guided him to lay down on it. "I'm gonna go back to my dorm to get some pads for you," I mumbled.

"No need," he groaned. "Ask the first person you see downstairs. We have them on stash somewhere for people who visit."

I raised a brow at that. "You got so many bitches come over, you have feminine products on standby?"

San narrowed his eyes on me. "I told you," he gritted his teeth. "We're not like that. Hurry up, please. I think I'm going to throw up."

I laughed on the way out of his room. I want to leave him to suffer honestly, but unfortunately, I'm not like that. It was satisfying enough for a man to experience how difficult periods are for women.

I went back to the living room since it was the only place I knew for now, and I wasn't surprised to see it empty except for one man - Jeong Yunho.

The senior law student sensed my presence and turned to look at me in surprise. "You're still awake?" he asked with a smile.

"I could say the same to you," I laughed nervously, hoping to appear normal by joking around. As far as he knows, I'm San. "D-Do you know where the pads are?"

I was expecting him to be disgusted and make a nasty joke about it, after all, most men are, but no. He nodded with a hum. To be fair, Yunho was well known on campus to be a gentleman, but still.

"We're out of them," he sighed. My heart dropped low in my stomach when he said it, but then he continued. "I'll see if I have some in my room. Come with me."

"In your room?" I asked flabbergasted as I followed him.

"Yeah. Yeni usually leaves hers here in case of an accident," he mumbled, rummaging through his unsurprisingly organized room. "I'm assuming Y/N had hers?"

I nodded slowly. Yunho acknowledged me with another hum. "You can ask Seonghwa for the stain remover. Check the balcony."

My mouth dropped in surprise. Yunho is talking about periods like it's the most normal thing in the world! While it is, frat boys are the last people on Earth to be totally fine with it!

"Here," Yunho handed me a couple of pads. "Goodluck, man."

When Yunho left, I was still frozen on the spot. On campus, Ateez were the typical party boys that ruled and were worshiped by everyone. There were many who disliked them, including me, but have I misunderstood them?

We'll see. Maybe it's only Yunho. I traversed through the whole house, careful not to be too loud since it was past midnight, and the balcony wasn't actually too difficult to find. I blushed when I saw a serious looking Seonghwa only wearing a tank top while he was buried in a mountain of books.

"Yunho?" I heard him ask without looking in my direction.

I was extremely nervous at this point. What if I say something and he'll catch on and figure out that I'm not San?

"N-No, it's me," I whispered. God, pretending to be San was a lot harder than it seemed.

He pauses from reading and looks up at me. I gulped when his sharp eyes hit me. From a distance, even on campus, Park Seonghwa had always looked intimidating to me, and right now, I wanted to bury myself in the ground with his scrutiny.

"San," he drawled with a small smirk. He glances at the pads on my hand. "You need the stain remover."

I nodded, not daring to say a word. It was unsettling, the way he looked at me as if he could see right through me. "Well?" Seonghwa asked in a tense voice.

"W-What?" I stammered.

"You bring the girl that hates your guts without me and Hongjoong's permission, you don't have anything to say about that?"

I bit my lip apprehensively. I'm going to strangle San the minute I get the hell out of here. "I-I'm sorry," was all I could say.

He sighed deeply. "I'm sure you have your reasons," he mused. "I don't mind her, I quite admire her spirit. She doesn't conform to the status quo and doesn't worship us mindlessly for no reason."

I didn't know if I should be even more terrified now or flustered with the compliment. "However," he continued. "Hongjoong is different. He's a little upset you're not standing up for yourself when she badmouths you. You're lucky he's at his internship abroad."

"It's not like you don't know I hate her as well," I blurted out before I could stop myself, but it was too late. I won't be scrutinized here when San hates me more.

"You do?" Seonghwa was puzzled. "But I thought," he sighed. "Whatever, you'll figure it out. Run along, stain remover is in your bathroom. I cleaned it earlier. I'll buy some ice cream for her. Did you get the warm compress?"

I was flabbergasted. "What?"

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "For her cramps, you half wit. No wonder she hates you."

I thought nothing could shock me anymore than Yunho's kind attitude, but Seonghwa cleaning the bathroom? And he's pretty nonchalant about periods too! How in the world are they so normal about this? Of course I knew what warm compresses are!

And these are exactly what I told San when I came back to the room. Telling him that they ran out of pads was embarrassing, and apparently the pads I got were for when Yunho's cousin comes over, and the interaction with Seonghwa.

"Are you scared of Hongjoong?" San asked. He looked too amused for my liking.

"I'm more scared of Seonghwa, to be honest," I shrugged. "Put this blindfold on, I'm going to undress you."

San blinked at me, but did so anyway. It felt damn weird technically dressing myself. We got into the shower and San surprisingly wasn't making lewd comments, but I can see the blush rising up on his cheeks. It was my body, so I knew how it functioned.

"Seonghwa looks intimidating because of the way he carries himself," San said as I took my pajamas off of him. "I remember being more terrified of Hongjoong when I first met him. His tongue is sharp---can you be careful? It's ticklish."

"You know I'm ticklish," I mumbled. "Sharp how?"

"In a sense that he doesn't have to stick a knife in your chest to kill you," he chuckled. "How long do I have to wear these?"

"I'll let you know if we have to change it," I replied with my own blush. It felt so damn weird changing San, but technically it was my body I'm putting clothes on. But still, maybe I should just let San see my body?

I shook my head apprehensively, my face getting redder and redder because of how ludicrous my own thoughts were. No way I'd let him see even if it was hard.

"This feels so fucking weird," he whined as he kept adjusting himself. "It feels like I'm wearing a diaper!"

For the first time since we had switched bodies, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at his claim. San looks at me weirdly before laughing out loud as well. My heart didn't hurt this time, rather, I felt it healing.

"Usually, I'm a tampon person," I wiped an imaginary tear from my eyes. "But I don't think you will appreciate something inside you."

San's cheeks look like tomatoes at this point. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled. "Thanks for the compress, it feels better."

I glanced at him shifting uncomfortably on the floor, tossing and turning to find the perfect sleeping position, but to no avail.

I sighed. "San," I called out. He took a peek at me. "Sleep here for now," I said, patting the side of the bed softly. His eyes widen into saucers. "Please."

He stayed unmoving, contemplating whether I was being serious or not. I don't blame him, this is the gentlest we've both been to each other since four years ago. When I scooted to make some space, he had resolved and decided to lay down next to me.

"Thanks," he groaned in pain after. "So this is what you guys go through every month?"

"Mhhm," I mumbled. "I'll help you."

"Why?" he smirked. "We're not friends, right?"

I pretended to be asleep so I could avoid him. I hope he can't hear how loud my heart is beating right now. He gave up and fell asleep himself. I can feel his body heat next to me, searing hotly. We used to sleep in one bed when we were younger, so what makes this one any different? I had no idea.

Soon enough, I didn't have to pretend to sleep. Then, I had another dream...

I winced in pain when San dabbed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on my lips. "Please, Sannie, it really hurts," I cried.

"Shh, just bear with it okay? I don't want it to get infected," he hushed, his brows furrowed in concentration mixed with a little bit of displeasure.

"A-Are you mad?" I squeaked.

"No. Stay still."

"But you look mad."

He sighed, his hand caressing my cheek. I lean into it, hissing in pain once more. I forgot I had a bruise there as well. He cursed under his breath.

"I'm not mad," he confessed, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises, both old and new, across my face and neck. "At least not at you."

I gasped lightly when planting a small kiss at my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin longer than it should. "I'm so sorry, Sannie."

"Stop," he warned. "I never want to hear that from you." He plants another kiss on my bruised cheek. Suddenly, the pain wasn't there anymore. "I'm going to kill them, Y/N, I swear I'm going to," he growled.

I held his hand and gripped on it. Tears started falling from my cheeks and his eyes softened. "I-I'm fine, please don't," I begged. "He's just stressed, that's all--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, enough of that bullshit!" San roared loudly, slamming his hands on the table. I whimpered loudly at the sound. "He's supposed to be your father, Y/N, and look at what he's doing to you!"

"I know, San, please," I wept.

"You have to report this, Y/N, I don't want to see you in a morgue one day," he pleaded. "If your mom had still been alive..."

His voice cracked towards the end. I pulled him towards me in a reassuring hug and we cried together as good friends did. "Live with me, Y/N, I'll take care of you," he implored in a way that broke my heart into little pieces.

And just like before, I have to tell him that I can't. "My stepfather will find me," I sobbed. "I can't let him hurt you."

That night I slept in San's room, on his bed while we talked all night about our dreams, with all the love and appreciation I never got with my own family.

The bloody period, figuratively and literally, was over and me and San took a break from all the fighting because even though I laughed at his pain, I did feel bad. My cramps often left me unable to walk sometimes.

I have to say, it wasn't all that bad. I have found utmost joy in opening jars that I wouldn't usually normally have in my real body. I can also reach higher places now and experience my feet touching the floor whenever I'm sitting down. In turn, I had to laugh at San's experience. He's so used to being big and strong and he's experiencing the opposite of mine.

"Can you stop pouting and act normal?" San hissed at me. "You're going to ruin my reputation like that—stop fiddling with it!"

"I'll just replace it with something else," I protested with an edge to my voice. "Seriously, it looks stupid."

San glared at me while fixing his jeans, my jeans, on him. "It's just an earring," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "I wear what you tell me, you don't see me complaining, do you?"

I sighed, annoyed. "Fine."

"Why? I can't do fashion?" he raised a brow at me.

We set out to leave my dorm this time. We've perfected our routine somewhat, by nighttime we go to the frat house, but by dawn we leave to go to mine before everyone wakes up. It was flawless because my roommates barely stay, the last thing I want is for people to think me and San live together. At least on my end. Surprisingly, Ateez has been very hush-hush about it.

"You tell me," I scoffed as we both walked towards campus. "I take it's the same reason you always dye your bangs blonde."

San paused from walking, stiffening as he stared on the floor with a faraway look in his eyes. I frown, looking back at him. He was already staring at me seriously. "Meaning?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "What else?" He waits expectantly. "Come on, you know why. Do you not hear and see the other girls flocking and moaning your name repeatedly when they see you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "So basically, what you mean is I do it to pick up some pussy."

I was taken aback by his vulgarity. "Is there any other reason?"

"I don't know, have you ever seen me entertain a girl?"

I stop and all is quiet, hardly even a breeze around us. I bit my lip, deep in thought. He was right, there were obviously playboys but San's name was never involved in it.

He smirked, and I had to stop myself from cringing. Did I look that dumb when I did it? "So tell me," I dismissed.

"Let's just keep the peace, shall we?"

Taking a deep breath, we walked in the common area, the hallways, and the moment we did, people started talking. It was a horrible symphony I've heard over and over, but never before towards me. What would you do if fire and ice started acting as if they went well with one another?

"I didn't take you to be a philanthropist," I muttered, deflecting the whispers and the stares. The stares I got as San was good, but the stares that San got as me were the opposite, and he was taking it well.

"Well, we didn't necessarily get along that well, didn't we?" San smirked. "We still don't. Anyway, let's summarize what we researched so far before we get in class."

"Nil, zilch, nada, zip. Nothing except that it might be a curse," I sighed.

"Do you believe in that?" San frowned.

"It's a bit too late not to," I laughed sarcastically. "We're not in our respective bodies."

"Right. Do you remember what happened that day?"

"It was raining, we were fighting, then accidentally kissed, then boom."

San stared at me, amused at the blush on - his - my cheeks. "We kissed again," he smirked. "Never really undid it, so that's out."

"This was a bad idea, we can't talk here," I shuddered at the stares directed towards us.

Suddenly his phone rings, and he frowns when he sees the caller ID. "It's Mingi," he sighed. "Pick it up."

I took the phone reluctantly. "What should I say?"

"Just go with whatever. He just looks rough but, Mingi's harmless," he assured. "Oh, and call him Mangi."

I raised a brow. I can't imagine the daunting Song Mingi being called by a cute nickname. "H-Hello? Mangi?"

"Oh, Sannie!" I was surprised how deep Mingi's voice was on the phone. "It's game night tonight before Thanksgiving, you in?"

"Yes?" I squawked out when San stomped on my foot. This brat!

"You sound unsure?" Mingi chuckled on the other end. "Figures. You've been with her lately. Finally, you learned how to have some balls. How is she anyway? Haven't seen her since that night."

I raised a brow. I decided to ignore that, it must be fraternity lingo. "G-Good, a little frazzled, but good."

"Good to hear. Well, tell her we all wish her good luck at the finals. I'll see you."

"Wait--oh damn," I trailed off when Mingi hung up. "What do we do?"

San took his phone back and patted my shoulders hard. I glared at him. "What else? You go," he smirked. "I have an exam to take, do I?"

I pushed his hand away from me. Here we go again. "Choi San, I've been studying my ass off for the very exam you're going to take for me," I hissed. "If you fail, I swear to God I will sell my soul to Satan just so I could live longer than you and shit on your grave when you die."

He cackled very loudly. "Oh my, that was a good one," he grinned. "Easy peasy, I'll take care of it."

"San, I'm being serious, please."

"I am too," he retorted, clearly offended. "You think I can't handle it? My major is harder and you know it."

"Biology and Economics are two very, very different things," I rolled my eyes. "You think this is peanuts?"

"Yeah, what did you major in? Stupidity?" San chuckles sardonically. I was about to slap his arm but then I stopped when I remembered that for now, I'm not a woman - that meant I would be a man hitting a woman. San seemed to realize it as well and smirked dirtily in my direction.

"I'll definitely fail you---"

"San!"

"Go to the frat house," he shrugged. "And pack your things after."

"Why? You're kicking me out?" I sarcastically asked.

"No," he scoffed. "Thanksgiving at my parents. You up?"

I paused, my features softening. I haven't seen his parents in years, the only people who actually cared for my well being and helped me when I needed it the most. I was forever grateful to them.

"Which car?" I asked.

His face lit up and I had to smile a little. "You wanna drive?" San smiled back.

The smile I was holding back showed itself at the question. I nodded enthusiastically. San remembered. When we were younger, driving was the only thing that relieved my stress when my stepfather abused me.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he hissed when I zeroed in on someone I saw walking from behind him. "Hurry before Mingi calls again!"

"Hold on, my senior is approaching, please act normal," I glared at him. "Or I will skin you alive."

“Ha! I’d like to see you try,” he rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to give us out!”

And just like that, we were back at our old ways of bickering. A really good friend of mine, Jeno, approached me with the cheeriest smile on his face while San and I just walked aimlessly around the campus.

"That's him? Seriously?" San snapped. "Wasn't that the guy who had been crushing on you since freshman year?"

"How the hell did you know about that?" I stared at him accusingly.

"Word travels fast," he shrugged, clearly annoyed. Then, he had this devilish grin on his face.

"Don't you dare, Choi San, don't you fucking dare---"

"Hey, Y/N!" Jeno finally jogged to both of us, panting a bit to catch his breath. He turns to me and nods slightly. "San."

"I'm sorry, what's your name?" San asked Jeno with that innocent look I used a lot on him.

My eyes widened and the world stopped for a moment. "Uhm, don't you remember me?" Jeno laughed nervously. "It's Jeno?"

"Nah, I could have sworn it was something dumber than that," San grinned mockingly.

Both Jeno and I gasped in shock at San's antics. I grabbed him before he could incriminate the both of us further. "Ah," I interrupted. " I hate to cut this short, but wow, I forgot we had to hurry and leave, haha."

"Yeah, you do that," Jeno trailed off in a daze.

I dragged San rather harshly, not caring if the people around us thought that I was manhandling a poor woman, yeah, my ass!

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screamed at him. "You can't just act like that when you don't like someone?"

San looked at me mockingly. "What, you like him, is that it?"

"Are you for real?!" I gritted my teeth. "Why are you dead set on ruining my life? Ugh!"

"I don't have an ax to grind with you though," he grinned.

"No, San. You just want to bury it in my back!"

I walked off and he followed me while he laughed his ass off. God, we were such a ticking time bomb together. Soon enough he was able to catch up to me, and before we knew it we were pretty much at the frat house at this point. We kept bickering and bickering, our taunts borderline offensive at this point.

True to his word, Mingi did call back just like San predicted. "This isn't over!" I glared at him.

With that, I put all my trust in San and went running to the frat house. I collected all the nerves I had stood strong in front of the door.

Truth be told, my heart was pounding extremely fast. Even though they seemed kind so far, that was when I - technically San - was here. Now it was just going to be "just the boys".

"Hey, there he is! The man of the hour," Mingi beamed, ushering me inside where food and drinks lay all over the living room.

"What's all of this?" I murmured, sitting beside the only person I knew so far - Wooyoung, since he would pester San - me - a lot, and for absolutely no reason, Yunho.

"You've been acting weird since you passed out that night," Yeosang shrugged. Cold sweat dripping from my scalp, did they know? I laughed nervously.

"What the hell is going on?" Yunho started. "Seriously San, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes, why do you ask?" I stammered, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour. The room felt small, like it was closing in on me.

"Something's wrong with you," Yunho narrowed his eyes. "It's like you're not you, for some reason."

I was nauseous at the remark, and I have never ever felt the urge to throw up like I was feeling right now. Were we and San that bad in acting?

"You don't talk to me anymore either," Wooyoung frowned. It was the most serious I've ever seen him. "Is it her?"

My chest felt like it might explode from all the questions getting thrown at me. It clicked all of a sudden - did they plan this "game" night just to pry? Did they know?

"Listen," Seonghwa sighed, reaching over to pat me on the shoulders. "Let's solve this before Hongjoong comes back. Tell us, San, do you have a problem?"

"No, I don't I swear!" I remarked a little too enthusiastically than I wanted to.

"Relax, we're not mad at you," Seonghwa frowned. "Mingi, tell everyone what you noticed."

The deep-voiced, criminal justice senior student cleared his throat. "The fact that you and Y/N come back late at night when you think no one is awake?" Mingi smirked. "Or is it when both of you leave at dawn when you think nobody is awake?"

This is where me and San fucked up. Of course everyone would notice, Mingi was the son of a renowned detective, Yunho was a law student, Seonghwa took sociology, Yeosang and Wooyoung were just damn observant. Jongho, I don't interact with that much.

"Is college getting too hard on you? Affecting your mental health?" Wooyoung thoughtfully asked.

Yeosang shook his head in amusement. "It's alright, we know you're pussy whipped."

I blush in embarrassment. San? With me? Impossible.

"I mean I get it," Wooyoung cackled with that annoyingly loud screech of his. "She's the talk of the campus right now."

My brain shut off immediately. Me? My eyes slowly widened with the thought of San doing something that will embarrass the living hell out of me. "W-What? Why?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Yunho raised a brow. "Your girl did a little too well on her finals. Who said it, Woo?"

"Changbin," Wooyoung chimed in. "He supervised the presentation and written exams." He teasingly wiggled his brows. "Said it reminded him of how you talk, it's like you guys switched bodies for a day or something."

I froze at that comment, my face twitching in an attempt to stop myself from falling apart at the moment.

I looked around and sighed in relief, it was just a joke. That was a close call. I’m literally sweating out of my pores. I tried to distract myself by listening to their banter, and soon enough, everyone forgot about me.

Except for one person.

Choi Jongho kept zeroing on me with an expression I couldn't pinpoint. I knew that he's aware that I noticed, yet he didn't look away. It was like he was dissecting me alive with his eyes and studying the composition of what made me, well, me.

I tried to brush it off, San did mention that Jongho was the atypical maknae - he didn't revel in being the youngest, rather, he would exercise its power and use it against everyone. If he wasn't staring at me like this, I would have found it cute.

"Ya, Mingi, stop clowning around and pass the food," Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Seonghwa is nearer!" Mingi blurted out.

I laughed when the dragon-looking elder raised a brow and everyone was suddenly friendly again to each other.

"Going home for Thanksgiving?" Yeosang asked curiously. I nodded, not wanting to say a word in case I gave myself away. I put food in my mouth so I have an excuse.

As much as I hated to admit it, but I understood why San chose them over me. They were fun to be around, and it was the type of friendship that extended outside college; it was the type you'd have forever.

Suddenly, the door opened and we all turned around to see San - technically it was my body - standing by the doorway. It got silent as everyone stared at him as he slowly went upstairs. I saw the pain in his eyes and I felt awful because he couldn't join in.

"Y/N, don't go."

It was Jongho. "There's plenty of meat for everyone. Come."

My heart swelled. That was technically San in my body, but in extension, it was like Jongho was asking me to join. I felt relieved, they never really talked to "me" like that, just the occasional greeting.

And just like that it was back to normal. I can tell San was happy, meat was his favourite food after all.

I dropped my chopsticks. They clattered on the table and no one seemed to notice. I looked at the meat, and then San, and then Jongho, who was already staring at me with a blank look in his eyes.

My eyes widened when he smiled, genuinely smiled, at me. He mouthed something I quickly understood because San said the same thing to me.

"I'm glad it was you."

I felt like crying when we finally reached San's parents house after a couple of hours driving. Nostalgia hit me hard as I stared at the door, a symbol of hope I had when I was younger.

"Let's take it easy here, okay?" San knocked on the door a couple of times. "I don't want my mom suspecting anything."

"As long as you don't piss me off we're good," I rolled my eyes, fixing my outfit even though I have to pretend to be San anyway.

"I can't help it," he chuckled. "We have to figure out how to survive, I suppose. Plus, it's only 2 days. You got something?"

"Yeah, San. High blood pressure."

San laughed really loud. "I love your comebacks," he drawled. "It turns me on--"

He was interrupted when the door suddenly opened before I could smack San. There stood the person who took care of me the most, smiling with tears of joy in the corner of her eyes.

"Oof!" San exclaimed when his own mom hugged him - me - instead.

"Y/N, my dear, I'm glad San," she glared at me, thinking I was her son. I had to stop the urge to laugh. "Finally bought you home! Oh, it's been so long!"

"L-Long time no see, Mo--Mrs. Choi," he nervously laughed, glancing at me for help. I pretended that the floor was suddenly interesting.

"Come along, both of you, I prepared so much food," she beamed, grabbing both of our hands and leading us inside the house. I loved how she always reached out to me first even after all these years. I knew San didn't mind either.

We exchanged greetings with his father, who also stood by me, and his sister, a friend I had when San was busy. Even the most mundane things felt so normal to me here. Finally, after so long, I was finally home.

When we were seated at the dining table, my soul felt at peace when I sat in my original seat. They cared for me so much, they designated a chair for me. It's a shame San ruined everything.

"So, biology treating you, kiddo?" Mr. Choi smiled at me while he put some meat on my plate. "Eat up, son."

"Wonderful. Graduating this year," I replied. I kept my answers short even though I had so much to tell. It was just how San was.

Mr. Choi put his hand on my shoulders and I couldn't help but smile at it. Granted, he thought it was his son, but still. I'm going to take all that I can get. He mentions how proud he was and I couldn't help but revel in it.

Dinner was pretty fun, the most I've had in years. We just fell into the rhythm, not caring about what will happen to both of us in the future.

"So, Y/N, any news I should know between you and my Sannie?" Mrs. Choi beams, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

San continues eating, and I clear my throat. He looks startled and I point my eyes sharply at his mom. "I'm sorry?"

Mrs. Choi giggles like a teenage girl looking for gossip. It was honestly so cute. "Anything going on between you and San?"

San heaved a long sigh. "No, Mom, nothing is," he grumbled silently.

I choked on my food, and everyone's utensils clattered on their plates. This idiot!

He noticed everyone looking at him with wide eyes. "W-What?" San cowers a bit at the attention. As if lightning hit him, his own eyes widened and he started to wave around like a fool as he realized what was up. "No, no, wait, it's not--"

Mr. Choi hits my back proudly and I choke more. "That's my boy! Finally, we knew this would happen!"

We couldn't even put a word in, Mrs. Choi was already tearing up and sniffling and hugging San. He gulped when I glared at him hard. Communication by staring does wonders for both of us. "Oh, finally, my babies are together," she sniffled.

And that was how we both ended up in his room together despite protesting that we shouldn't.

"You blithering idiot!" I laid it all on him, and pulled his - my - hair hard. Now I get why people do it.

"Ow!" San screamed furiously. "Stop! You ungrateful bitch that hurts!"

"You slipped, how can you slip?!" I screamed.

He got pissed and reached up to pull my ear down in his direction. I yelped in pain. "That's my mother, how can I not miss?!"

"Your mom thinks we're dating! Are you okay with that?" I pushed him down rather aggressively. He glared at this 'you-dare-use-my-own-strength-on-me' look.

"It's fine. That's where it will end anyway," he shrugged, plopping on his bed lazily.

"No. I'd rather gouge my eyes with a spoon," I scoffed, but on the inside, I was screaming in confusion.

He raised an offended brow up. "Goddamn it, if you think I'm unattractive just fucking say so."

"That's the problem, San. I think you're alarmingly attractive."

A dark look passes through his eyes. It's crazy that even though I was looking at my own eyes, it looked so much like San's instead. Before I could take back what I said, I was pulled harshly towards the bed. I yelped when the bed came in contact and my breath stopped when I saw San hovering over me.

"So, you think I'm hot?" San smirked.

I tried very hard not to look in the eye, focusing on the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I think you're insane," I laughed nervously.

"You know what?" San whispered. "Maybe this weird shit happening to us wasn't so bad after all."

I completely stopped breathing when he leaned down to my ear, the same ear he pulled earlier. "We would've graduated and never saw each other again."

That was true. All I ever wanted was to move on with my life, and I was prepared to do it without San, even though it would have killed me.

"You betrayed me," I whispered back, my voice cracking with all the emotions I hid from him all these years ago. "You gave me back to that monster. Look."

With a shaky hand, I pulled the dress I made him wear on my body to reveal a badly disfigured shoulder. It was ugly; disgusting. The skin was mangled with burn marks and had darkened in time. Unshed tears started to pool in the corner of my eyes as San's jaw tightens.

"How could you do this to me?" I questioned. It was the same question I asked him four years ago.

He adjusted the dress back on his shoulder and held my hand on his. He put it against his lips and kissed it so tenderly, I barely felt it. "I am so sorry," he sighed. "You will understand one day."

My brows shot up in confusion. This was the first time I was hearing this. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't we sleep for now? We'll talk tomorrow?"

I frowned, angry, and I wanted to be angry, but I was too tired to be angry at him because there was no point in feeling so. I knew he was changing the topic and even if he pretended to be fine, it was the fine details - the ticking of his eyes, the quivering of his lips, the slight breathing pattern change, the dilation of his pupils. He was extremely angry.

I gulped. "San--"

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely audible from my ears. "Can we pretend for one night that nothing had ever changed between us?"

He wiped one lone tear that escaped from my eye, and for the first time since it had happened, I cursed the Gods for switching us callously. I wanted to feel his arms against mine, his soft breaths hitting my skin as he shielded from every trouble that dared touch me.

But no. I was San for now, and he was me.

The air was tangible, one wrong word and the little bubble we had wrapped ourselves will pop. I laid on the bed with San giving my head little pecks here and there.

"You know," I began. "I never got to thank you for getting me an A++ on my finals."

He chuckled from above me. "They told you before I came back, didn't they?"

I hummed in response, but not saying anything back. Once again it was silent, the only thing we could hear was our breathing. Dare I say it was the most comfortable thing I've ever heard.

"Y/N?" San suddenly asked. When I didn't respond he continued. "What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?"

I tensed against his hold. I wasn't expecting a question that deep right now. "Is this about why you left me?"

"Answer the question."

"I don't know, Sannie. It depends on the lie," I responded. "I don't even know you anymore."

It was his turn to tense. It was a mirror of his anxiety. He cleared his throat rather loudly. "There's a lot about you that you don't know, Y/N."

"Like what?"

He taps my nose with his finger before they go up and fluff the blonde piece of hair he had. "For one," he smirked. "I don't dye this. I have poliosis. Haneul has one too, she just dyes hers dark."

I was at a loss for words, dumbfounded at the revelation. "What?" I almost screeched. "You never told me this!"

He tucked me inside the blanket, almost lovingly, just like I used to when we were younger. "The world is cruel to people like me who are different, I didn't want you to think I was a freak," he shrugged and I felt my heart breaking into pieces. "I'm so sick of seeing my failures in your eyes."

My chest exploded with a million emotions and it hit me - I still loved him. I was in love with him then, and I am still in love with him now.

"San," I spoke with uncertainty, looking deep into his eyes.

There was so much I wanted to say. Falling in love with him was easy, it was admitting to myself how hard I fell. When he asked what if my life was a lie, he didn't know that I was the one lying to myself. I suppose he never noticed, and I could ask him, but what's the point?

For now, we were here, and I was glad.

"Where are we going?" I asked nervously when San lead to an unfamiliar route from the road we were supposed to take. His hold on my hand loosened and I felt him shaking.

"Just a little bit, we're almost there," he cryptically said.

"I'm so excited," I giggled. "Are you excited?"

"Y-Yeah, I am," he replied. I frowned, maybe he was just as nervous as I was.

We finally ran away, San had finally taken me away from my monster of a stepfather who did nothing but destroy me as a person, but guess what? He will never succeed.

That is, until I saw his red car parked in the far distance, the moonlight shining on it as if it was mocking me.

"San?" I croaked, halting my steps. I knew I wasn't seeing things, that was him. "San!"

I felt him pull into my hand and when I wasn't moving, he forcefully pulled me until we reached that dreaded car. I was a crying mess, especially at the thought of my only friend betraying me.

"San, please, don't do this to me," I begged over and over again, reaching to him pitifully when my stepfather grabbed my hair roughly and pushed me into his car. "San, please!"

He stood there, watching as we drove away. I pounded on the back windows, hoping he would snap out of whatever it was that urged him to do this, but nothing. He just stood there, until he was no more.

"Sit properly, you whore!" I heard my stepfather scream.

"Let me go, you demon, just let me go!" I screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, yeah?" he snarled, taking the cigarette from his dirty mouth and extinguishing it on my exposed shoulder.

Now that I think of it, he was acting extremely odd that day. Even if it had been that long already, I knew he wasn't himself. That was four years ago, surprisingly, the abuse did stop. The broken bones and repetitive bruises had healed over time. That rat knows he can't beat me into submission anymore since I was in college now.

Suddenly, his phone rings and when he glances at the caller ID, he curses loudly. "Fuck," he gulped. "It's Hongjoong."

My heart dropped to my stomach. I've been a squatter in the frat house and I've never interacted with the one and only Kim Hongjoong. "I thought he was overseas?"

"Not anymore, I guess. I'll handle it," he murmured. "Hello?"

“Ah, Y/N. Fancy talking to you.”

We froze, cringing hard. San just mindlessly answered the phone, forgetting that he was in my body with my voice. Hongjoong continued before San replied.

"Dare I say that the owner of this phone is with you since you have it?"

"Yes," San coughed. He quickly covered the phone and turned to me. "See what I mean? He's sharp-tongued," he hissed. "Are you back?"

"Interesting. Listen, I got nothing against you, sweetheart, you'll get your turn soon. Pass the phone to San."

Oh, he was pissed. San blabbers, "But--"

"Now."

San reluctantly passes the phone to me. "H-Hello?" I stammered.

"Choi San, do you take me as stupid?"

My eyes widened, dread filling my body. "N-No, not at all."

"Yeah? You think I didn't know you were sneaking around at night and morning? Come home. We need to talk."

"B-But--"

"I know your schedule. You didn't even say goodbye before Thanksgiving. I'm warning you, San. I'm at the airport and you better be back before I do, or else. Drive safe."

Unfortunately, we had to cut that trip short by a day. It was hard to tell his parents, but the assurance of me and San being "together" seemed to make them happy.

"You have to fix this before it gets too far," I frowned at San while we walked back to the frat house. "I don't want to break your mom's heart."

"I will figure it out," he rolled his eyes.

I snapped. "Which means you'll let it slide and hope they'll forget! You owe me, Choi San, you screwed me over with Lee Jeno too!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Y/N!" San glared harshly at me. "He just wants to get into your pants!"

There was still one day left of vacation so there was nobody around the campus to hear both of us scream at each other's ear. It wasn't until San stopped talking and walking all together when I realized that something was wrong.

And something was very wrong indeed.

"San," I gasped in total shock.

There, in front of the frat house was the red car that I rode every time I had to go to the nearest clinic from all the abuse and trauma I had to endure during my early years. We can both hear my stepfather arguing loudly with none other than Seonghwa, and he was both looking for me and San.

"For the last time, I don't know where they are!" Seonghwa screamed, the anger and authority rolling off of him even from a distance. "And even if I did, I would never tell you."

My stepfather smirks dirtily. "Watch your mouth, boy, I could knock you out right now," he spat.

"I'd like to see you try--stay in the damn house, Yeosang. Tell Hongjoong to hurry up," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms haughtily at my stepfather.

"Get him the fuck out of here then," Yeosang growled. I was stunned, I have never heard him so angry before.

My stepfather seethes in anger at Seonghwa and Yeosang's insubordination. If there was one thing he hated, it was when someone else had the upper hand.

San protectively puts his body in front of me to protect me, not that it mattered, he was in my body; my weak body.

I held onto San for balance. We weren't supposed to be back today and Seonghwa knew it. "Stay with me, okay?" San whispered. "We're going back in the car, watch your step."

But it was too late. I accidentally stepped on a drying leaf, and its crunching sound as my foot hit it reverberated all over the empty campus grounds. I was shaking at this point, the fight between me and San long forgotten when Seonghwa and Yeosang stared at us in shock from the distance.

"San, I'm scared," I whimpered pathetically.

"I'm going to handle this, okay?" San assured me, but even I could hear the tremble in his voice.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my lovely daughter?" my wretched stepfather cackled evilly as he started to walk towards us.

Here was the monster that ruined my life, standing in the very place I was expecting him to pop out the least, in the flesh. There was something so profoundly evil about him, he was so rotten to the core that I was surprised he hadn't started decaying from the inside.

"I am no daughter of yours," San seethed, still shielding me from behind. I shook his shoulders hurriedly in panic. I whispered, terrified, that he hated it when I backtalked.

Even after all these years, years I spent on campus because I refused to go home even on vacations, I was still utterly terrified of this man. When Seonghwa tried to approach us, I shook my head vigorously.

"No?" my stepfather smirked. "Being in this dump has taught you to be disobedient, yes?"

I screamed when he aggressively slapped San square in the face, something I knew hurt since I've been the target of that for years. My heart stopped when I completely forgot that San was in my body, and that body was weak.

"Wake up, please, wake up, don't leave me again," I sobbed as my stepfather laughed at my pathetic attempts to wake up San, who was clearly disoriented from the powerful backhanded slap.

"Choi San, was it?"

I flinched when I realized that he was referring to me. "My, you have grown into a fine young man," he cackled like a maniac once more.

He went down to my level to whisper. "You good for nothing bitch," he whispered sadistically. "I thought I told you I'd kill her if I see you with her again?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"You were always like a little tick that sucked the innocence out of my baby girl," he mockingly declared. "Well, not anymore."

He was about to try and carry my body out - San - but I stopped him, courage suddenly filling my lungs. "What the hell do you want from us?" I growled aggressively. "Haven't you taken enough for me?"

He raised a brow at the declaration, and I knew I slipped, but I didn't care. "You gave her to me willingly," he scoffed, red in the face. "Pathetic, one word from me saying I'd be 'better' and you believe it?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"What?" I felt my heart breaking to tiny little pieces once more.

My bastard stepfather laughed mockingly in my face. "This college rubbish has ruined her. I will marry this slut to a business partner of mine to expand," he spat. All the blood rushed to my head when I heard this. "Out of my way, brat!"

In one swoop, my body was in his arms and leapt up to try and grab San out of his grip. Once more, I thank God that San worked out and was strong enough. "You sick, sick, son of a bitch," I seethed, an anger I never let out before.

He faltered for a moment before kicking me on my leg, but he was never going to win. He laughed and temporarily dropped an unconscious San, who was again, in my body still, on the dirty ground.

"I should have killed you a long time ago," he sadistically remarked.

We fought right there and then and for a moment, I had the upper hand. My wounded childhood was the one spurring me on as my fists pounded on him repeatedly as I straddled him. Each punch on his clownish face as he lay on the floor felt like a win.

Until it wasn't. In a twist of events, he had managed to flip me over when I got too emotional and straddled me instead, his sick grin widening as he tried to blow a punch. A burst of adrenaline went through me and I held his fists to stop him from punching, struggling since at the end of the day, this still wasn't my body.

"I'm going to have fun ruining your face, pretty boy," he grinned maniacally, blowing punch after punch and so far, I've been avoiding them.

But that can only last so long. I was slowly getting tired and tired and he did manage to hit me once. Stars flooded my vision and I gave up. He was about to punch me again, his fist up in the air and going down and I just waited for the impact to happen.

It never came.

I could have cried when Hongjoong came just in time and pulled my stepfather, who was extremely shocked, away from me. It happened so fast, my stepfather was now fighting Hongjoong and I took that opportunity to crawl towards my body while whispering San's name.

"Easy there, buddy..."

I felt myself being lifted up and I got nervous at first, until I saw Mingi's face above me as he was trying to lift me up from the floor. He put my arm across his shoulders and we huddled close to San's body.

"Now!" I heard Hongjoong shout and I looked up just in time to see Yunho deliver a punch, himself, and it managed to knock my stepfather out cold on the ground.

"Holy shit," I heard Yunho mutter to himself. Who knew that the gentle giant had it in him?

"Wooyoung, go get her," Hongjoong pointed at San, his voice tight and tense. It was an authority I have never, ever felt on anyone before and it honestly made me a bit more terrified of him than all of the Ateez members combined.

"The rest," he panted tiredly and began to walk inside the house. "The rest, get that motherfucker inside and tie him up on the chair, I don't fucking care which."

It was about time anyway, it started to rain all of a sudden and we all made a big run for it inside before we got soaked.

Once Wooyoung carried my body and laid it down on the couch next to where Mingi had placed me, Hongjoong lay it all out, screaming at the top of his lungs with an anger that could have made the Earth tremble and shake.

"I'm gone for a couple of months and this is what I come home to?" Hongjoong shouted, the sound of it so loud it rendered us speechless. My God, he was terrifying. "Nothing to say?"

"I mean, nothing big," Jongho muttered, "It's just that--"

"I'm hearing excuses, Jongho," Hongjoong sarcastically laughed as he banged his hands on the table. "I don't want to hear it. You're the temporary leader, Jongho, what happened?"

I was surprised. All this time, I thought it was Seonghwa. Jongho sighed deeply. "Well, we can start from the beginning," he shrugged, turning to look at me. "Y/N? Who the hell is that?"

"Yes?" I replied almost instantaneously in a panicked state. "Oh, my stepfather--I mean, I don't know!"

I was met with the most surprised stares and the heaviest of gasps. I covered my mouth quickly with widened eyes when I realized what I just did. Jongho crosses his arms and smirks.

"I told you so," he gloated.

We hear a series of groans and I quickly help San get up and sit up properly on the coach and he was as surprised as I was when he noticed everyone staring.

But most of all, I was terrified of Hongjoong. "Well, I'll be damned," he clicked his tongue. I frowned at his lack of surprise.

San sighs heavily. "You guys know, don't you?"

"Wait, hold on a minute," Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand around. "So all this time when I've been showing you cat videos, it was you?"

I nodded sheepishly, suddenly uncomfortable with all the stares. I can literally hear everybody's gears turning as they internalized all the events that happened during the last few months.

"This is ridiculous," Seonghwa remarks, narrowing his sharp eyes. "How do we know that this isn't some prank?"

Then it starts. Mingi's cheeks reddened when he realized that he has been shirtless a lot of times with me. Yunho laughed when he remarked that he had been wondering why San had been suddenly interested in gaming with him.

"Wait, wait," Yeosang interrupted the ruckus with a loud laugh. "So, San was the one with the period that time?"

"Shut up," San seethed when everyone burst out laughing like maniacs. He points to me accusingly. "You should have seen her when she had the morning wood."

My cheeks were up in flames when I remember when I felt that painful sensation down there one morning; it was painfully hard, sticky, wet. Everybody laughed for a minute straight when me and San started selling each other out, and we looked at each other out.

As usual, one person wasn't saying anything. "How did you know?" I asked a smirking Jongho.

He hesitates, contemplating if he should tell me. "Because it happened to me, as well," Jongho shrugged. "Though not as long as you guys."

All hell broke loose at that statement and the million question was - who did Jongho switch temporarily with?

He glances at someone in particular, and follows his line of sight. "No way, there is no fucking way," Seonghwa cursed. "You?"

"It was last year," Hongjoong shrugged, sitting on the couch lazily. "Lasted for only three days though, I'm not sure why you guys haven't returned yet."

"I don't believe it," Seonghwa narrows his eyes at me and San, and then Jongho and Hongjoong. "Proof or I’m kicking everyone out."

I shrunk. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the sociology major.

Jongho has this devilish grin on his face. "Remember last year when we all went to that all paid expense getaway?" he laughed. "Surely, you don't think he..." he jutted his thumb at a seething Hongjoong. "...would plan that in the middle of nowhere?"

Another type of hell broke loose at that, but I was at a loss for words. I had nothing to prove myself for. San and I haven't spent the last few years together. "I...I don't know," I admitted. "I can't prove it."

"I can."

Everyone looked at San expectantly. He had this forlorn face, and I got nervous. Something tells me that I wasn't going to like what I was going to hear. "It's about that asshole over there."

He pointed at my stepfather, who was still knocked out. He was tied tightly on a rickety chair. I saw everyone's face tense when San said it. I stared at him, all the hurt that I had buried within me coming out in waves and I had hoped that San was just making it up. The look on his face confirmed that he was not.

"S-San?" I whispered, the betrayal hitting me for the second time. I looked at each and everyone of them. "You all know something."

I stood up from the couch angrily, everyone's eyes on me as angry tears started falling from my eyes. "You left me that day, gave me up like I was some trash you didn't want!" I shouted at San. "You made me believe that you were finally saving me..."

"Y/N, please calm down, I can explain," San begged, hugging my waists hurriedly. Well, thanks to his own strength, I managed to break away. "Y/N, please..."

Both Wooyoung and Yunho stood up to comfort me by holding my hand and rubbing my back soothingly. I couldn't push them away, they were always nice to me. The others just stared at me with pity in their eyes.

I felt the world slowly crashing down on me. I must look stupid, but nobody had ever asked why it had protected me all these years. "And you!" I angrily pointed at Hongjoong and Jongho. "You knew about me and San's predicament!"

Jongho sighed, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry, I really am," he apologized. "Hongjoong and I have been working on it."

Hongjoong rubbed his temples. "Everyone, to your rooms. Now. Jongho, stay."

Everyone that passed me offered me consoling words, and that they were sorry. It was just me, San, Hongjoong, and Jongho left.

"I offer my apologies to you sincerely," Hongjoong began, facing my body as he spoke. "Although I can't say I'm too pleased with you, I understand your predicament."

"What the hell does that mean?" I scoffed.

Hongjoong raised his brow in amusement. "It's not really a secret that you hate Ateez, my dear, and in turn..." he gestured to San. "Him. Can I tell you a small secret?"

"Go ahead," I frowned.

"We are a peaceful group," he began. "The parties were a front for all the charity we do here."

I was surprised. He gestured at the big mirror at the wall and I stared at it. I gasped when he told me to look harder. It was a two way mirror. "A secret room?" I asked.

Hongjoong nodded. "I didn't want anyone randomly coming in and out of here, it was the best we could do. The feminine products were usually what the party people left behind."

It all made sense in my head - how people just worshiped them wherever we went, some of them with admiration, how San always defended them and how he absolutely hated it when I talked shit about them.

"As for your switch," Hongjoong cleared his throat. "We don't know why or how it happens, and honestly? We never dug deep into it, so unfortunately in that area, I'm afraid we can't help you."

My heart sank at his words. "So, we're going to stay like this forever? How did you guys turn back?"

"Hongjoong and I were arguing last year," Jongho started. "I'll spare you the details, let's just say it almost tore this group apart."

I saw San's brows lift up in surprise. Jongho continued. "I don't remember who, but one of us lowered our pride, and then the next day? Poof." Jongho gestured with his arms. "We were back."

"That's it?" San was spiteful and so was I. "We've pretty much solved our issues and we're still like this. You two never thought to look into it further?"

Hongjoong and Jongho looked at each other. "No," Jongho said. "Something out there that has this immense power and isn't meant to be questioned. You think whatever was out there playing with us will suddenly yield and listen?"

"Are there more of us out there?" San asked dreadfully.

"Yes," Hongjoong confirmed. "It's a secret we'll keep, however. Just like we'll keep yours. I'll talk to the boys. And as for this son of a bitch?"

He glared at my stepfather. "Leave it to me."

This was too personal. I got up and left the house in entirety despite everyone's protests from behind me. I swung the door open forcefully and ran out to the soaking rain aimlessly. It reminded me of that night when San and I switched as I looked up to the sky. There was also thunder looming up.

Where do I even begin? I cried as I walked aimlessly trying to find a way out of the campus. I only realized that the rain was cold because of all the adrenaline rushing out of me quickly and I stride forward, screaming and howling.

"Y/N, wait!"

I turned around and it was San, drenched just like me with the most gut-wrenching expression on his face. Tears free falled from his eyes, like the rain. "Let me explain, I'm begging you, please," he pleaded with all his might.

I slapped him, the sound of it louder than the thundering rain. His lips quiver and I almost gave in right there. "How can I ever trust you?!" I screamed at him.

He kneeled on the gravel, something I know would have bruised my knees, and looked up to me with the most forlorn expression. "Please, don't shut me out," he wailed. "My heart won't be able to take it."

It was just us, rain soaked in the melodramatic scene unfolding right in front of us. "You gave me to him, San!" I sobbed pathetically and tried my best to shove him off of me. "He ruined my life!"

I ripped him off of me and tried to run away, but I stopped when he hugged me from behind and buried his face on my back. His wails broke my heart to a million pieces. He began muttering something that I couldn't understand.

"Speak up before I get angrier!" I shouted. My tongue was a sword I'd sharpened because I was so sick of getting. "There was a time I'd lay down my arms for you, San--"

"He said he would never hurt you anymore if I gave you back to him!" he screamed.

Everything stopped at that moment - there was no wind, no tears, raindrops that fell stopped in time - it was just me and San. "Please, Y/N, please just listen to me--"

"I can't think of anything worse," I scoffed. "You think I believe you?"

"I swear!" San sobbed. "He said he'll kill you and find you if you don't return, Y/N..."

He turns me around and grabs my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes as more tears fall from my eyes. Everything hit me all at once, the beatings did stop but I thought it was because I went to college and he couldn't touch me.

"I should have been stronger for you that time," San wailed, leaning his forehead against mine. "There was never a day I didn't regret it."

We sobbed in each others arms as we got rained on, shivering like leaves, but we didn't care.

"Why didn't you tell me?" my voice cracked. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I don't know, Y/N, I don't know!" he wept, desperately clinging onto me as I tried to get away from him. "I thought I was doing what was best for you..."

The moment I realized that I had misinterpreted his actions, his words, all of him for those years, that moment was when my heart broke even more.

"Do you hate me that much, San?" I bellowed. It was the good kind of breaking; the type that led to healing and new ways onward.

"I don't, but I don't like you like that," he whispered. Sometimes, the loss of words would have said more.

His quivering lips landed on my forehead. "Because I love you," he confessed.

MY heart soared, but I wasn't going to let him in. "You left me, San. You were all I had then you were gone!"

"You loved me?"

"That's all you heard?" I scoffed.

"What about now?" San asked hopefully. "Do you still love me?"

I laid all the truth out. "I don't know," I admitted. It was still raining at this point. "When you left, I had decided back then that our futures were different, even though we grew apart, and you know what I hate?"

I laughed sarcastically, tears falling from my eyes again, and I probably looked crazy. "I still held you above others. I still loved you even though I had nothing, no safety, no rights, no place to go, and no one to call to get me out of the hell I was placed onto."

San grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards. "No," he whispered. "You never stopped loving me, please don't say you loved me."

We have always been like this, I realized - a ticking time bomb. It was worse now, especially now that we were older and the way San was looking at me, I knew that we were destined to explode.

"I can't let you go," he said, holding me closer. "I'm never going to let you go. I will always hate myself for letting our love die."

He held gaze, and it could have burned me with how intense it was. He was bitter, those eyes held loneliness. "I know forgiveness is not your strong suit," he whispered.

"San," I cried.

"There was a point where I wouldn't know what to say if I had you," he chuckled remorsefully. "Forgive me."

I guess these were our final days separated and I can say without a doubt, nothing ended the way I thought it would. Both of us leaned together and our lips finally met and it felt right, as if our souls had been intertwined a long time ago.

And then we felt it - that hot, familiar, searing pain that passed through us, only this time, we didn't pass out.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking through San's uncertain ones this time. The real San. I looked down at my body and lifted the small hands I knew I had instead of San's big and rugged ones.

"Oh my God!" I screamed ecstatically, jumping up and down happily. "We're back, San, we're back!"

"Thunder and forgiveness," San laughed sweetly. "Who would have thought?"

"I'm freezing though," I giggled, finally letting go of all the pain and suffering. "My dorm?"

San smirks mischievously, and I screamed joyfully when he lifted me up in his arms and started running hurriedly out of the rain. We missed being in our bodies so much that we reached my dorm in record time with San kicking the door down so harshly that it might have been broken, but we didn't care.

We kissed each other as we hurriedly took our clothes off, not breaking our lips. This is what I wanted, I craved for him - his scent, his warmth, and just him as a person.

I giggled when San bit my lips, each gentle bite giving pleasurable zings of electricity straight down there. I clenched my legs together as San pinned me by the wall, holding my arms up as he grabbed my hands and pinned them as well.

We broke the kiss to take a big gulp of air and the longest, deepest stare followed. "I love you," San whispered, this time giving me the slowest, sweetest kisses against my lips. "I love you so much."

Tears flowed from my eyes and through my tears I whispered back. "I love you too. Now fuck me before I go insane."

His eyes widen and he throws his head back and laughs out loud, his cute dimples showing on his cheeks. "Hold on," he laughed. "I've had your body for months yet this is the first time I've seen it. Let me admire it, please?"

I blushed, embarrassed by the way he says it. He laughs at my predicament. "San, come on..."

"As my princess commands," he smirked, leaning down on my ear. "I'm going to make you scream."

"San," I moaned softly when his hands slid down and gently squeezed my naked ass.

"Oh, I know you already feel good," he groaned. "Are you sure you want this?"

I nodded and he sighed. "Tell me now," he said softly. "I'm not going to be able to hold back."

I gave him a shy smile, and went on my tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips as my hand reached between his legs and began pumping his already hard cock back and forth slowly, teasing him and relishing the small grunts he was making.

"You like that?" I asked him softly.

"Mhhm," he groaned deeply. The way his face contorted into pleasure was sending me. "Keep going..."

I continued playing with his length - which by the way, definitely wasn't a little worm. He was above average; not too big, but definitely not small either. It was perfect and I loved it regardless. I couldn't hold back a shudder as I felt him buck his hips sensually over and over again on my hand.

He was confused when I suddenly stopped, his eyes glossing over something dark when I kneeled down until my face was eye level with his cock.

"Baby," he croaked when I looked up at him. "You don't have to."

"But I want to," I smiled impishly at him. His self-control was tethering almost close to the edge when I leaned forward and pressed my lips onto the tip of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," his deep growl resounded as he reached out and ran his fingers through my hair as I bobbed up and down his shaft, my cheeks hollowing as I tried hard to let my tongue slide underneath. I groaned against him when I felt him twitching inside my mouth.

The only thing sounding in the room right now was soft, sensual noises along with my gagging and San's grunts as I went faster, and faster. That is, until San pulled out all of a sudden. He groaned when he saw a trail of precum dripping from my mouth onto the floor.

"As much as I loved you sucking my soul through my cock," San laughed, pulling me up and pulling me close to him. I moaned softly when his eyes turned dark and predatory. "Can I fuck you?"

He didn't even let me finish, he began kissing me once more, this time, it was driven by lust instead of sweet surrender. His hands weren't idle either, he slid them up my tits and I moaned against his mouth as he squeezed them. He was gentle, yet persistent.

The kiss lingered for a moment when we both backed up until I landed over my soft bed with San going on top of me. Suddenly, anxiety hit me when his eyes started roaming around my body.

"Don't do that," I whispered, covering my body with the blanket. "I'm broken and bruised, not exactly sexy, isn't it?"

He smirked softly when I nervously laughed. It was true; all the permanent scars that never left my body and marked me in ways that will forever haunt me. I didn't want him to be turned off.

"What did I tell you?" he asked softly, his hand reaching out and lovingly tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears.

My heart thudded against my ribcage as I curiously looked at him. He placed a sweet, chaste kiss on my forehead before he spoke out. "I told you I loved you, didn't I?" San smiled fondly. "That means I love all of you."

"Since when?"

He pretended to think about it, thoughtfully putting a hand to his chin. I laughed and jokingly clicked my tongue at him. I guess this was what love was; the way he was able to ebb away all my discomfort and assure me, make me believe, that I was fine. I loved him so much, it hurt.

"I don't know," he admitted. "One day, I just got mad whenever I imagined you slipping away from me." He kissed me again. "Angry whenever I'd think of someone claiming these." He kissed me once more. "Bitter whenever I'd think of someone else having you instead of me."

"Is that why you talked to Jeno like that earlier?" I rolled my eyes playfully and swatted him across the chest.

He rolled his eyes and nipped my lips almost painfully. "I would appreciate it if you didn't bring another man's name while I'm about to fuck you."

"So do it," I blurted out. "Fuck me."

He narrowed his eyes on me, long gone was his self-control. "You asked for this," San growled.

He gripped his stiff cock in between my already spread legs. I raised my ass to meet my wet hole against it, desperately moaning his name out. "Hurry up," I whined helplessly.

San looked me in the eyes as I felt him stroking and positioning himself along my throbbing cunt. He slid agonizingly slow inside of me, inch by inch, never breaking eye contact with me, until he completely bottomed out. We both moaned out at the delicious feeling of each other.

He would tease me with soft thrusts as I dug my nails on his back. "I knew you'd feel good," he exhaled sharply. "Fuck."

I unconsciously squeezed him and all his self control left him. He began thrusting slowly at first, and then picking up the pace when we both found our rhythm, little moans of pleasure escape us as we fucked each other.

"San, please!" I screamed, feeling every inch of him against my walls. My desperate moans made him rock against me faster, and harder.

"Louder, baby," he growled as he pistoned in and out of me. He leaned forward down my neck, biting and sucking on the soft flesh, its sound combined with the obscene slapping of skin against each other nearly undid me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," San's low moans reached my ears and his tongue tickled it as well, even nibling on it and sending an unexpected burst of pleasure through me.

I bucked my hips up to meet his fastening thrusts. "Sannie, oh, just like that--"

I screamed when he slammed roughly down on me. "Say that again," he growled against my neck, the demand of it sending pleasurable tears in my eyes.

"W-What?" I managed to ask in between his invasion.

"Call me that again," he grabbed my hips and pulled me tight against him. "I'm begging you, baby, I need it."

"Sannie!" It came effortlessly anyway as I shook beneath his strong body and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Again," he grunted, pounding into me as our passions rose higher and higher.

"Ah, Sannie, please," I cried out, thrusting my hips hard to meet his as I felt a familiar tingling sensation down my core and soft bursts of whimpers came out of me as he ground against me.

"Again, Y/N, again, fuck..."

"Sannie!"

This wasn't fucking - as cheesy as it may sound, we both knew that it was the both of us giving each other the love we couldn't for all these years. It was such an intimate experience and connection, even though we were going roughly at the same time.

"Again!"

I'm not usually one for domination and submission, but with him, I'll do anything. I know he won't hurt me.

San leans up a bit and he groans as he watches his cock go in and out of me. "God, you're so wet, babygirl," he smirked at my fucked out face. "I didn't even need to finger you..."

"Can you just keep fucking?" I snapped.

He laughed like the little demon he was, it turned me on so much, and he thrusted harder. "You really can't help acting like an ass even though I'm inside you, huh?"

I grinned. "It's not going to change."

San began going in and out faster and faster, his thrusts building in speed and power. I gaped, screams of pleasure filled the room, as San's throaty rumble of pleasure gave way as his thrusts became sloppier. I knew he was close.

"I'm going to cum inside you, oh fuck, can I cum inside you?" San's moans were getting more and more high-pitched.

"Please!" I begged, digging my nails on his back.

He hammered himself into me, each thrust a jolt of burning heat as my own orgasm started to approach, and when San felt it, he began doing so more relentlessly. "S-San--"

It was a toe-curling orgasm, one I haven't felt before. San growled in my ear, saying my own over and over like a prayer, as I felt him shake, then wail, and then gasp. I moaned when I felt ropes of warm cum spurt into me over and over, again and again.

His thrusts subsided and he pulled me into a tired and tender kiss, our lips lazily against each other, and then we laughed hard at what just happened. Something tells me we were going to be alright.

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂 𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙴:

It turns out we didn't need to correct San's parents, after all. Imagine how pleased Mrs. Choi was when we told her we were making it official.

"Ready to go, babe?" San lovingly asked as he fixed the collar of his dress shirt. When he struggled to put on his tie, he sheepishly smiled at me.

"Need help, tough guy?" I smirked, standing up from the couch and making my way to San. "Kiss me first."

He didn't waste any time and gave me a kiss that rivaled every poet's work and it spoke volumes about the passion we shared.

We broke off and laughed at all the complaints and protests we received from the entire group. Ah, I suppose I'm part of their little group now and we were currently in the frat house.

"Ugh, Lord Almighty, you two are disgusting," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, clearly disturbed. "Decency is not a concept known to both of you, is it?"

He walked over to me and San and pulled him away from me. "I'll fix it," he referred to the tie. "Before you two start dry humping."

"Rude," I glared jokingly.

"Kind of miss when you two hated each other," Mingi grimaced, plopping next to a snickering Yunho, who said. "Right, there would be none of..." He pointed at me and San accusingly. "...that."

"Jealous of the lack of love in your lives?" San questioned. Mingi and Yunho looked at each other and blushed. "Or not."

Suddenly, a glass of delicious looking smoothie was shoved in my face. It was Wooyoung, who was giving me a pointed look. "What's this?" I frowned, inspecting it.

"Breakfast shake," he shrugged. He patted my back. "No time to eat before you guys go. Good luck, hmm?"

"Thank you," I grinned. "You were an unexpected friend."

"Unless the smoothie gives you diarrhea," Yeosang chimed in. I laughed when Wooyoung turned red and he was about to shout when we all heard Hongjoong yell from outside the house.

"Oi, loverboy! Get in the car before me and Jongho drive off and you'll be walking!"

"Alright," Yeosang pulls me into a small hug. "Goodluck, okay?"

"Give us good news, okay?" Seonghwa smiled tightly while he ushered us out to Hongjoong's car.

I giggled like a schoolgirl when San opened the door for me and I sat beside Jongho in the back, who rolled his eyes dramatically at us while making gagging sounds.

It was hilarious how me and San, hopeless romantics, got stuck with Hongjoong and Jongho, the non-hopeless romantics.

"Nervous?" Jongho asked me while Hongjoong and San walked through what to do when we got to our destination.

I unconsciously touched the marred, disfigured cigarette burn on my shoulder, and it didn't escape Jongho's attention. "Don't," he pursed his lips tightly. "Don't let him win."

San and I decided one day that everyone needed to know everything from the beginning - how San and I were childhood friends, my abusive stepfather after my mother died, San being threatened by him, all of it. The night that I cried in San's arms was also the night that I gained seven more friends.

"I know, I won't let you guys down," I assured. "Thank you for doing this, both of you, you didn't have to."

Hongjoong looked at me through the rear mirror with concern. "You didn't see what we all saw that day," he tensely said. "I was driving home excited to see everyone, and what did I see?"

He paused to collect his thoughts. "A big man beating San to death and an unconscious girl on the ground while the rest tried to scramble outside. Do you have any idea how I felt when Jongho told me your bodies were switched?"

"Being witnesses to the trial is what we want, believe me," Jongho said.

Tears started forming in my eyes. My stepfather ruined everything for me - my life and my childhood specifically. I lost a lot of time with San and I'm so mad that I lost out on these wonderful people. Better late than never, I suppose, at least we're here now.

Sooner or later, me and San were holding hands outside of the courthouse. I didn't want to do it, but Wooyoung and Yeosang were the ones that convinced me the most that I should press charges against my stepfather. San also decided to press charges for blackmail. Mingi called his brother to arrest him, and Yunho's father was kind enough to represent me as my lawyer.

"Like what you see?" San smirked when he noticed me ogling at him. He smiled at me mischievously. "Maybe we can...do some stuff when we get home."

I playfully slapped his arm. "Pervert," I rolled my eyes. "You do look good though, I love your hair like this."

"You do? The blonde isn't jarring?" San asked, obviously anxious about it the natural blonde piece of hair

"Nah," I fixed his hair a bit for him and he revels in it. He loves getting his hair touched, at least by me. "Maybe we could dye the blonde like a teal blue for a change if you want."

"Sounds good, babe," he agreed. We giggled a bit before we had to become serious again.

We both stared at the daunting courthouse in front of us. "It's anticlimactic, huh?" San kissed my hand lovingly. "The ending, at least."

"It's better this way, I guess," I shrugged.

When we switched bodies back, we pretty much never talked about it ever again, just like Hongjoong and Jongho never did.

"How so?" San wondered.

I smiled at him and pulled him close to me so I could give him a tight hug. "Those days we spent apart were hard for me," I whispered. "But we grew separately and now we're better together because of it."

San held my face tenderly in his hands and stared deeply into my eyes. "Having you back means the world to me," he spoke. "Just do me a favour this time, okay?"

I looked at him expectantly. "Stay," he smiled. "Please stay with me, promise me."

"So as long as you don't leave me again," I answered with a bittersweet smile on my face. "Let's do this."

I loop my arm on his and he seemed pleased. "Let's," he laughed, then leaning so we could share one more sweet kiss before we faced the world together.

In his kiss are years I know we'll spend together and the sweetness of the love we'll share as days go by. In his kiss, I am home.

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