#surely I've used that tag a time or two before

[cherrygirlfriend]

── COME HOME TO US 🧸

🧸 pairing .ᐟ dad!spencer x mom!reader

🧸 summary .ᐟ missing your partner while he's away and you're juggling motherhood.

🧸 warnings / tags .ᐟ fluff!

🧸 author's note .ᐟ this is my first fic for spencer on here! i've written some before but i just posted them on ao3 lmao. i hope yall like it!!

something every mother knows for a fact: being a new mother is an especially exhausting part of motherhood. what a lot of them don't know is that it's even more exhausting when said baby's father was an fbi agent who often didn't stay in the same state as you for longer than a week straight.

you loved spencer, but you were also tired of having to do so much all on your own. you couldn't remember the last time you showered, and you definitely couldn't remember the last time you slept for more than two hours in succession before your daughter started screeching in a way that put many an opera singer to shame; the little girl always saving it just for you, because the moment her father comes home, she acts like an angel.

you also worried that little emmeline wouldn't even be able to recognize her own father; the two of you facetimed whenever he was away for cases, but when you did, the infant was more focused on putting the remote control in her mouth rather than babbling to her father.

but what you missed the most was simply just having him next to you; to fall asleep and wake up curled up in his arms, to have him wrap his arms around your waist while you cooked, softly humming in your ear, and pressing kisses to the side of your head. talking late into the night, your feet on his lap as the two of you read together (at dramatically different speeds) and seeing him rock emmeline to sleep.

you were woken up from a nap by the sound of a key being fitted into the front door and having it be opened and closed. you smiled into the throw pillows, your eyes still closed as you listened to spencer dumping his satchel on the floor and letting out an exasperated sigh as he took his shoes.

he padded into the living room, and you turned your head to look up at him with a weary smile, the man returning it as he ran a hand through his dark curls, "did i wake you up?" he asked in a soft tone as if you were still asleep. "mmhm." you mumbled, watching as spencer made his way to the couch, sitting down at the edge and tugged a loose strand of hair behind your ear "but 's okay... just hold me?"

"sure." spencer smiled, pressing a gentle kiss at the side of your head as he started to settle onto the couch and wrapping his arms around you and pressing himself as close to you as possible, the green couch much too small for both of you, but it didn't matter. spencer's hand stroked your head gently, and closed your eyes, breathing in his scent; after coming back from a case, he just always smelled so... him. any trace of cologne was gone, only things lingering on his skin were his natural scent, his sweat, as well as coffee.

just as you were about to doze off again, though, the moment was stolen from you, a familiar whiney noise coming from the baby monitor, a sign that emmelie was about to start crying. you let out a sigh, but just as you were about to get up, spencer sat up instead. "get some sleep. it's my turn. i'll be right back."

"don't drop her." you said teasingly.

"i'll try not to." spencer chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before standing up and stretching his limbs, "this cuddle session isn't over."

[aroselaine]

Sex Curse

Masterlist, AO3 Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader Word count: 5.4k Summary: Castiel gets hit with a sex curse on a hunt. He goes to you with the hope you have the cure 🤭

Content: smut!! sex curse (f*ck or die), praise kink, making out, body worship, p in v sex, innocent cas, cas loses his virginity, switch!castiel, breast play, cowgirl, missionary, oral sex fem!recieving, cumplay, no use of Y/N

A/N - YALL I AM SICK this has to be the freakiest thing I've ever written ;) This is the fic from the last poll and the finished version of Sex Curse (Sneak Peek), I'm so sorry it took a bit but I hope this makes up for it ☺️ Also PS click HERE to join the tag list!!

On the outside, the case didn’t seem like anything special. The article titled "Two Victims Found Dead in Cult-Like Ritual" had caught your attention. After arriving in the small town, you quickly discovered a witch who was targeting virgins and using their blood for spellwork. It was nasty, but unfortunately common in your line of work. As the designated researcher of the Winchester duo, you figured you'd be of little to no use in this case.

Your days often consisted of long library stays and obscure lectures from forgotten professors. And while you occasionally joined a hunt, you’d be lying if you said it was where your natural talents lay.

Sam, Dean, and Cas had left hours ago. You’d offered to accompany them, but they claimed it wasn’t necessary. Someone needed to “protect home base,” as Dean had put it. Home base being a motel room that hadn’t been remodeled since the 70s. In reality, you knew they just wanted you researching the ever looming apocalypse 24/7—but you didn’t mind. It gave you an uninterrupted evening, which was incredibly rare on the road.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, a book resting in your lap, humming softly to yourself as you scribbled down notes. Having long since changed out of your typical day to day outfit, you wore only a tank top and some boy short underwear. With the boys out, you had the freedom to wear whatever you pleased and you were not wasting the opportunity. The Book of Enoch sat open before you. You had read the book far too many times, but with the issue at hand, you decided it needed a closer look. It was an ancient Jewish religious text that fascinated you with its descriptions of demon origins, the fall of angels, and the birth of Nephilim. You thought of Castiel as you read—your own personal angel and greatest philosophical resource. You wondered if he had seen what was depicted… if he had participated.

Your thoughts were cut off as your phone rang loudly from the bedside table. Flipping it open, you saw the screen flash DEAN OTHER PHONE and clicked Answer.

“Hey Dean, everything alright?” you asked casually.

“No. Listen—something went wrong. It’s Cas.” He spoke quickly, voice gruff. “The witch hit him with a spell and he’s—” Dean cut himself off.

“He’s what?” Your voice clipped, fear bubbling up inside you.

He sighed over the phone. “Look, I think we’ve seen something like it before. He’ll be fine, but the curse is a bitch.”

“What is it, Dean?” You were already getting off the bed, ready to prepare ingredients for whatever cure you’d need to make.

“It’s a sex curse.” His words made you freeze. “It’ll wear off eventually… after he—you know. We were gonna try getting him a chick at the local bar, but he’s refusing.”

You were silent for a moment as your brain caught up. “So if he doesn’t have sex, then what?” your voice was meek.

“He’ll die. At least we think so. I’m not sure if it’s different for angels.” Dean groaned, and you could picture him running a hand over his face in exasperation. “I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t need to.”

Your heart stopped.

“We told him it wasn’t a good idea, but he wants to go to you. He thinks you might be able to find a cure in time."

“Dean—I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t even know where to begin—”

A fluttering of wings behind you made you pause.

You hung up the phone and turned around.

You felt your chest constrict at the sight in front of you. Castiel stood stiffly in the center of your motel room, his eyes darting around until they landed on you. He looked disoriented, and you watched as a painful looking shiver racked his body.

“Castiel” you spoke softly, as if speaking to a wild animal.

His eyes stayed trained on you as his brows furrowed. “Something’s wrong.”

You took a slow step toward him. “I know. Dean told me. You were hit with a curse.”

His hands twitched at his sides. “I thought I was injured, but there’s no wound. It just… burns. I no longer feel in control of my vessel.” He closed his eyes, jaw tightening. “I’m trying to heal myself but it isn’t working.”

“Okay–” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t know what Dean told you, but I don’t know how to fix this,” you admitted, walking over to the spell books you had open on the nearby desk. You grabbed the most promising one, and flipped through it. 

“I’ve read about lust spells, compulsion magic—but this? This sounds more advanced than anything I know. Do you happen to know what the witch said when she cursed you, Dean didn’t say on the phone.” you asked, looking up from the book. Castiel’s eyes darkened slightly as he tried to focus on your words, but there was something hazy behind his gaze — like he couldn’t quite pay attention, his eyes drifting up and down your body. You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered what you were wearing, knowing it certainly wasn’t helping.

“I… don’t know what she said,” he admitted, voice strained. “There was blood. Symbols. She pressed her hand to my chest and whispered something—It might have been latin. And then it started.”

You nodded, flipping frantically through the spellbook, scanning for anything remotely similar. You were met with pages on siren magic, succubi, enchantment sigils—but nothing that described this exact situation.

“Well, we know it’s a sex curse.” you said carefully, eyes flicking up to him.

He blinked, confused. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

You hesitated, your fingers freezing mid-turn on the page. “It’s… a spell that targets desire. It forces your body to crave intimacy. Physical release. And if you don’t… it can kill you. Although, I’m not entirely sure what it will do to you.”

Castiel stood still, processing. “Angels aren’t—we’re not meant to experience that,” he said slowly, his hand pressing against his chest like he could calm the burning beneath his skin. “My grace is reacting abnormally. I’ve never felt this before –” he paused, “I won’t be able to hold it off much longer”.

You stepped closer, carefully, placing the book down on the desk. “That’s what the curse does. It’s made to make you feel powerless until you… give in.”

He groaned softly—just a breath, but it hit you in the chest. His posture slouched for the first time, looking more human than you had ever seen him.

“I can feel it spreading,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s worse now. The closer you get to me – the more I feel it. I can’t—I can’t stop thinking of you.” his eyes went wide, as if realizing what he just said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey, hey.” You stepped closer and gently grabbed his arm. He was burning up, his grace fighting to keep the vessel stable. “Don’t apologize. It’s the curse, Cas. It’s feeding off the closest connection you have—and that happens to be me right now.”

His breath caught, and he looked at you like he wanted to say something else but didn’t know how.

You pulled him gently toward the bed. “Sit down. Just breathe for a second. I’m going to keep looking, okay?”

He sat, clearly struggling not to reach for you again. His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket like he needed the grounding.

As he adjusted himself on the bed, your eyes unintentionally flicked downward—and then you froze.

There was a noticeable bulge in his slacks, and the way he quickly tugged his trench coat over his lap didn’t escape your attention. His face flushed, a rare sight, and he looked anywhere but at you. The tension in his jaw hardened as though he could will the arousal away by sheer force of will.

You looked away quickly, not wanting to embarrass him further—but it was too late. He’d seen the glance.

“I—I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I don’t understand. It’s never happened before and I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, voice soft. “I know you can’t help it. It’s not your fault, Cas.”

He nodded to himself, like your words had made the entire situation okay. You watched the subtle tremble in his hands, the tension rippling through his vessel like something primal was trying to claw its way out. 

“You’re wrong you know”, he spoke, his voice low and hoarse. “About the curse – it isn’t abstract desire.”

Your eyes met his, wide with surprise. He wasn’t looking at you like the angel you knew. He was looking at you how a man looked at a woman. Your heart clenched at the intensity.

“Even when it first hit me,” he continued, voice strained like every word physically pained him, “I could only think of you”.

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding loud in your ears.

“Castiel… you don’t know what you’re saying” you whispered, unsure whether to comfort or pull away.

“I tried to resist it,” he said, eyes pleading. “But my body—this vessel—reacted. Your voice. Your hands. Your warmth. It’s all I could think about, all I can think about.”

He looked down at the ground, curling in on himself. “You’ve always been the object of my desires” he admitted, almost ashamed. “It’s not right for me to feel this way.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

The room felt too quiet as his words settled over you. You’ve always been the object of my desires. You hadn't expected that. Not from the angel who once looked at humanity like a mystery to be solved, not felt.

Your fingers itched to reach for him, to offer comfort and relief from the spell coursing through his veins. But fear rooted you in place. Fear that this wasn’t real. That it wasn’t truly him speaking, but the curse bending his thoughts. 

“Cas…” you breathed, voice thick with emotion. “I care about you.”

He looked at you like those words alone kept him breathing.

“That’s why I need to be honest,” you added gently, stepping closer. “This spell—it might be making your emotions stronger, or confusing them. And I need to know that what you’re feeling… what you’re saying—it’s really you.”

His gaze faltered, pain flashing in his eyes, but you didn’t let the silence stretch too long.

“You have always been important to me, even before any of this. And once we break this spell—if you still feel the same—I’ll be right here. I promise.”

He trembled, hands fisting the blanket, but he nodded ever so slightly.

You turned to the desk and sat down, grabbing an old leather book. Its pages smelled of dust and rose petals, and you prayed it held something useful.

“I’m going to fix this,” you whispered, fingers brushing the parchment. “Just… keep holding on. Stay with me, okay?”

Behind you, his voice came like a vow, quiet and unwavering. “I am with you.” You flipped through the pages feverishly, trying to focus despite the way your heart thundered with every broken breath Castiel took behind you.

Each passing second, his quiet groans grew louder and more desperate. At first, he’d been sitting up, fists clenched tight around the motel blanket—but now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see he had maneuvered onto his side.

You couldn’t look at him directly, not yet.

The low, ragged sound of his breathing. The guttural edge to his voice. The way he whispered your name once—so soft, you almost thought you imagined it. Each noise hit you in a way that made your cheeks flush and your thighs tense.

You shut your eyes for a second, battling the wave of heat curling through you. This wasn’t the time. He was suffering. He needed your help, not your hormones. But god, his voice—it was doing things to you.

A small part of you, dark and aching, wanted to drop the book and crawl over to him. To help him. To give him the relief he needed—maybe the relief you needed, too.

Instead, you forced your attention on the book in front of you—rereading lines over and over, trying to make sense of sigils and latin descriptions. “Come on,” you whispered, scanning over the faded script. 

Behind you, the mattress creaked softly, followed by a particularly loud and strained groan that cut off in a shallow gasp.

Worried he was hurt, you turned to look at Cas. 

Your mind went blank as you took in the scene before you. Castiel was curled around a pillow, his eyes screwed shut as he pressed it to his groin. His hips moved slowly and mindlessly, humping the pillow as breathless moans fell from his lips. You couldn’t look away as the ache between your legs became harder to ignore. It was so wrong—the angel didn’t know what he was doing, and there you were, watching him.

You shook your head and looked back down at the book, more motivated than ever to find a cure. You flipped through the pages, hoping you’d missed something. Skimming quickly, you felt your heart stop as a Latin phrase caught your attention: Intimitas maledictio sororis agnetis—the intimacy curse of Sister Agnes. The name rang alarm bells in your mind as you remembered: Agnes had been a nun-turned-witch who had dedicated her life to undoing curses.

You read the paragraph, your heart rate skyrocketing as you realized it was the curse Cas had been hit with. If anyone had found a cure to the curse, it would have been her. Reading to the bottom, you found the last sentence: There is no cure other than physical intimacy. You felt your lungs constrict, unable to say anything as you reread the lines over and over again. There is no cure. Your worst fears were confirmed, and your chest ached for the angel.

Shutting the book softly, you stood up from the chair and glanced over at Cas. If possible, he was even more disheveled from when you had last looked. His lip was now tucked between his teeth in an effort to be quiet as he moved against the pillow. So lost in finding his release, he didn’t even notice you had gotten up. 

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you moved toward him, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped with your weight, and his eyes fluttered open, finding you through a haze of pain and need. His lip slipped from between his teeth, cheeks burning with shame as his hips stuttered to a stop. It was the most sinful look you had ever seen, and it had come from an angel. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, wincing as he turned his face away, like he couldn't bear for you to see him like this. “It hurts—”

You leaned closer, your voice soft and warm. “Shh, Cas. Don’t apologize,” you whispered, resisting the urge to reach out to him, knowing it would only make it worse. He seemed to sag with relief at your words, his body instinctively moving again, still trembling under the weight of the curse.

“There is no cure then,” his voice broken and tired. It was a statement, not a question.

You swallowed hard, wishing you could tell him something different .“No, I’m so sorry. I checked everything, only physical intimacy can break the curse. It’s a miracle you’re doing as well as you are.” You lowered your eyes to your lap, giving him privacy even as every instinct screamed at you to help. “I can keep looking if you want, but— I don’t think you have much time before it gets worse.”

He didn’t say anything, but you heard the soft ruffling of sheets as he struggled to sit up, and when you finally met his eyes again, your heart ached.

He leaned back against the headboard, trembling with restraint. Your gaze dropped before you could stop yourself, and your cheeks burned at the sight of the obvious need straining against his pants. He tensed, grabbing the pillow to hide himself, his whole body taut with the effort.

Your chest tightened painfully at the sight. You didn’t look away from him this time. You stayed with him.

“What do I do?” he asked, voice breaking into a desperate whine.

“What do you want to do, Castiel?” you asked softly. His fingers tightened around the pillow, knuckles white, as he fought with himself. You could see it — the battle between needing relief and fighting the curse.

“I want you,” he finally whispered, voice so low it was almost a prayer. His eyes found yours, desperate and searching. “Please help me.”

Your heart broke a little more, and without hesitation, you leaned closer “Cas,” you murmured, your voice full of certainty. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

You brushed your fingers along his jaw, feeling the slight tremble beneath your touch. His eyes flickered with something raw and aching — a desperation so fierce it made your chest tighten. Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

Knowing it was his first time, you started gentle, your lips moving softly, giving him time to adjust — but Cas had no more patience left.

The moment he felt your mouth on his, a broken, needy moan tore from his chest. His kiss was messy and devouring. His mouth moved against yours, hot and desperate, the lack of control sending a shudder through you as he fought to get you closer.

Realizing the pillow on his lap was in the way, you grabbed it and tossed it to the other side of the bed, your lips still fused to his as you climbed onto his lap.

You gasped as you straddled him, the unmistakable hardness in his pants sending shivers through you as you pressed down against him. The angel groaned at the contact, his hands flying to your hips, gripping you tightly enough to bruise as he dominated your mouth.

You cradled his head, only pulling back when you needed air. A soft, needy whimper left his mouth at the loss of your lips, the sound so wrecked it made your heart stutter. His displeasure didn’t last long though — you immediately attacked his neck, kissing and licking until you found his sweet spot.

Sucking down hard, you felt his hips roll up into you, desperate for friction.

"More," he gasped out, voice wrecked. "Please, more, please—"

You lifted from his neck, hushing him gently. “Can you remove your clothes for me, angel?” you asked sweetly, running a soothing hand through his hair.

He looked up at you, utterly undone, one hand shakily lifting from your hips. With a soft snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, leaving him in nothing but white boxers.

You couldn't help but bite your lip at the ethereal sight beneath you.

"Beautiful," you murmured, running a hand over his chest appreciatively, letting your fingers wander over his toned abdomen and the trail of hair leading downward.

Cas groaned at your praise, his head thrown back against the headboard as he arched into your touch, his hands once again gripping your hips.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you shifted lower, trailing kisses down his body. You licked and nibbled at his heated skin, his hands moving to guide your head as you traveled further down.

Finally reaching his waistband, you paused, looking up at him. He met your gaze, his brows furrowed and his eyes dark with arousal.

“I’m going to take these off now, is that alright?” you asked softly, running a hand slowly over his thigh.

He nodded eagerly, words tumbling out between panting breaths. "Yes, yes, oh father, yes—"

At his desperate confirmation, you moved to remove his boxers — but before you could, another snap of his fingers had them vanishing.

You gasped as you took him in fully, unable to tear your eyes away.

His cock was pulsing with need, a bead of precum dripping from the tip. You licked your lips as you took him in, fully aware you had most certainly soaked through your underwear.

“I need to see you,” Castiel whined, as if you'd ever deny him, his hand still cradling your head.

You only smiled up at him, gently slipping out of his grasp to reach for your tank top. Without a second thought, you pulled it over your head.

You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fixed on your chest, his hands trembling as he raised them, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. He squeezed them experimentally, and you moaned softly at the contact — the sound drawing his eyes back up to your face.

That moan must’ve triggered something in him, because suddenly his hands gripped your waist and he pulled you back down onto his cock, only the thin fabric of your underwear separating you.

He sat up, burying his face in your chest as his hips ground up into you.

You gasped at the sudden friction as he began moving you — forward, backward — guiding your body over him. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, a moan ripping from your throat as his lips latched onto your chest. He kissed you reverently, worshipping you with every breathy groan, before finding your nipple and giving it a soft suck that had you reeling.

He continued grinding you against him, dragging your soaked center along the length of his cock, his hands holding you in place as he moved beneath you. His movements instinctual as he blindly followed his pleasure.

Your own hands found his shoulders for support, fingers digging in as the pressure grew just right — the thick length of him beneath you sending you spiraling.

You moaned his name, grabbing at him as he continued relentlessly.

“More,” he whimpered into your skin. “It hurts, I need more—”

“Take my underwear off, sweetheart,” you breathed, voice wrecked with need. The ache must have been torture for him by now.

You didn’t have to ask twice. With another snap of his fingers, your underwear vanished, leaving you bare and pressed directly against him.

The sudden wet heat made him gasp — the surprised moan that left his mouth was nothing short of sinful.

Reaching down between you, you curled your fingers around him, causing his jaw to go slack as you guided his tip to your entrance. Lifting your hips slightly, you sank down on him slowly.

Your back arched as his cock split you open. Despite how ready you thought you were, you still felt a slight burn as he stretched you out, filling you completely.

A sputtered gasp broke through your haze, drawing your attention down to him. Castiel’s hooded gaze locked onto yours, all heat and need, his hands shaking with restraint as you inched lower until you were fully seated on him.

You brought a hand to his hair, brushing the fringe from his forehead as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

“You’re doing so good for me,” you murmured breathlessly, adjusting to his size.

He whined, pressing his head into your hand.

“I don’t know what to — you feel incredible, I can’t —" he stammered, his hips stuttering as he fought to stay still.

“I know, I know. I got you," you soothed, moving your hands to his shoulders. Slowly, you lifted yourself until only the tip of him remained inside you, before dropping back down, taking him fully once more.

A deep, almost primal growl ripped from his chest, the sound sending a shudder through you and making you flutter around him.

“Keep going,” he begged, voice wrecked, “please — keep going.”

You set a slow, grinding pace at first, rolling your hips in small, deliberate circles that had Castiel's hands flying to your waist, clutching you like a lifeline. His head tipped back against the pillow, throat bared, jaw tight with the effort to hold himself together.

Every little movement of yours pulled a ragged moan from him, his body trembling beneath you.

"You're perfect," he rasped, voice rough like gravel. "So beautiful."

Your heart thudded at his words, heat pooling low in your belly as you quickened your pace. The delicious friction of him filling you, dragging against every nerve ending inside you, made you whimper against his neck.

He bucked up instinctively, chasing the feeling, and you cried out softly at the sudden, deeper thrust.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, but you shook your head quickly, burying your face against his jaw.

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice a broken plea. "I need you, Cas."

That was all it took to shatter whatever fragile control he had left.

His hands shifted from your hips to under your ass, and in one fluid motion, he sat up, holding you against him, buried so deep inside you it felt like he could never be close enough.

His mouth found yours again — desperate, consuming — as he thrust up into you, rhythm messy and urgent.

You moaned into his kiss, clutching his shoulders, feeling the slick slide of your bodies, the raw need spiraling higher and higher between you both.

Every time he moved, you felt your walls flutter helplessly around him, felt him pulse inside you, and it drove you closer to the edge.

"Please," he begged again, voice trembling against your lips. "Something is— I can't — I'm—"

"I know," you whispered, kissing him fiercely. "It’s okay, let go for me, Castiel."

At your words, Cas groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your skin as he thrust up harder, chasing the release he was barely holding back from.

Your bodies moved together in a frantic, perfect rhythm, every stroke sending a fresh wave of pleasure flooding through you.

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he hit something inside you that made your vision blur.

"Cas," you gasped, breaking the kiss, forehead pressing to his as your breathing hitched. "I'm so close—"

"Yes—please," he rasped, his voice desperate, wrecked. "I feel it."

You nodded frantically, hips grinding down against him, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it snapped.

Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cried out his name, walls clenching around him.

The feel of you unraveling in his arms broke him completely.

With a hoarse shout, Castiel buried himself deep inside you and came undone, hips jerking helplessly as he spilled into you, holding you impossibly close.

You clung to him as you came down from your high, expecting to feel him begin to soften inside you — the curse finally sated.

But instead, he grew even more desperate. His body trembled as he gripped you tightly, his cock still throbbing deep inside.

“It’s not over,” he gritted out, pain etched across his face as his body radiated heat.

Your hand, still unsteady, reached for his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours.

“Take what you need, sweetheart. It’s okay,” you whispered, watching his eyes go wide at your words. “I want you to take me.”

A guttural groan tore from his throat as he grabbed you, flipping you beneath him in one smooth motion.

Then he moved — his hips snapping into yours at a pace that was nothing short of inhuman.

You moaned loudly at the stimulation against your already sensitive core, the sounds high and mindless as he fucked you, his cock impossibly deep with the new angle. One particular thrust made you cry out — a sharp, broken scream — as he slammed into your g-spot.

The sound caught his attention. He adjusted his angle slightly, now thrusting upward with precision, his tip hitting that spongy spot inside you every time. You clenched around him, helpless under the intensity, and he growled low in your ear, burying his face in your neck to kiss along your skin the same way you had done to him earlier.

The familiar coil tightened quickly in your stomach, and before you could even form the words to warn him, it snapped. Your vision went white as your second climax tore through you, your pussy fluttering wildly around him, milking him with each wave of release.

It was too much — he groaned against your skin, hips faltering before he spilled into you again, your name like a prayer on his lips as he fell weightless onto you.

You brought shaking hands to his back as you held him, gently stroking him while you both came down from your highs.

“It’s done,” he murmured into your neck, breaking the silence.

You leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, saying nothing as you continued to hold him, your hands gliding over the firm muscles of his back as he softened inside you.

A warmth began to slip down your thighs, and you cringed slightly as his cum seeped out of you. Cas felt it too. He sat up slowly, pulling out of you with a soft hiss before inspecting the mess between your legs.

You watched him curiously as his head tilted, his eyes fixed on where his release pooled from your core. Before you could ask what he was doing, he reached out and slid a finger through it, making you whine at the overstimulation. Then, to your surprise, he brought that finger to his mouth, sucking it clean. Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could form words, he lowered his head between your legs and licked a slow stripe up your slit. You moaned at the overwhelming sensitivity, your hands flying to his hair as his tongue moved deliberately, gently. He groaned low in his chest, burying his face in you as he lapped at your pussy, cleaning you with devout focus.

When he’d determined you were clean, he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thighs before looking up at you with those soft, doe eyes.

You were speechless as he moved back up, lying beside you and resting his head on your chest.

With a snap of his fingers, you were both clean and dry — which made your mind spiral with questions, the main one being: Why hadn’t he done that in the first place? Not that you were complaining.

“Where did you learn that?” you blurted, still a little breathless as you looked down at the angel.

“A video on Dean’s computer,” he said softly into your chest, making you erupt with laughter as you pressed a kiss into his hair.

His head lifted, eyes searching yours with concern. “Did you not like it?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

You smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. “I really liked it,” you murmured, a playful glint in your eye.

That earned a boyish grin from him before he settled back down, cheek resting contentedly against your chest.

You ran your fingers slowly through his hair, feeling the tension melt from his body as he laid against you. The silence warm and soothing as you held him.

But after a few moments, you felt him shift.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible.

You blinked, glancing down at him. “For what?”

“For the curse. For doing that to you,” he said, his voice tinged with guilt. “You deserve better. I never wanted to hurt you. ”

You cupped his cheek, gently guiding him to look up at you. His eyes — those beautiful, stormy eyes — were clouded with worry.

“You didn’t hurt me, Cas,” you said softly, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. “You could never hurt me. I knew what I was doing. I chose to be with you — curse or not.”

His lips parted, like he wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. You leaned in and kissed him again, this time slow and comforting.

“I love you,” you whispered against his mouth. “And I want you”.

He exhaled shakily and tucked himself back into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

“Thank you, I love you,” he said quietly.

You kissed the top of his head once more, letting your fingers trace idle shapes along his back.

“Always.”

tags: @scary-noodlesblog, @alitzel02, @ser4phim-on-e4rth, @vengeance139, @olaflookalike, @strawberrymochikitty

[jakeperalta]

spent weeks psyching myself up to stand up to my mum and then immediately got shot down by her 😃👍

[theweirdestroller]

I have episode four of RB: LIVE done...

Now you may be asking yourself "Roller, what do you mean episode four? Isn't there currently only two out? Do you mean three?"

Yes, there is only two out. No. I don't mean three. Episode three is still in the works as my earthquake research got postponed due to...Well, my mutinous organ.

I'll try to post the episodes in order, but four is done right now, and the only knowledge I really needed was what the Rescue Recruits act like.

Despite a brief apperance in the pilot, I know nothing about those little guys and the only episode of RBA that I watched was the Bumbleblades date one...

Bite-Sized and Sunny Side Up are still on a complete pause at this point in my recovery because those ones were written exclusively on my computer.

RB: LIVE as well as the Grand Adventures of Blades, his Roommate, and That One Guy are also on my phone, as I tend to work on them just whenever I feel up for it, rather than sitting myself down and really focusing for a while like I do for my computer projects

[quitedisastrous]

my mom told me i almost got diagnosed with autism as a kid (she says i wasn't officially diagnosed because the diagnosis wouldn't have been useful so i guess my symptoms were so on the fence that they didn't push for it) which. like i'm 100% sure i have autism but holy mackerel. she couldn't have told me this as a kid???? it's a good thing i'm both logical and oblivious so i didn't spend too much time thinking "something is wrong with me. what the fuck is wrong with me" but like. what the fuck?

[amplexadversary]

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THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE TO TURN OFF WHEN THE SITE WAS NEW WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU FUCKING PEOPLE

I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO PUT MY CURSOR ON MY OTHER FUCKING MONITOR TO AVOID YOU PUTTING SOMEONE ELSE'S WORDS IN MY MOUTH AND DELETING WHAT I ACTUALLY WROTE

[cloudtransprncy]

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Ningning x Karina x Male Reader | 18k words Tags: 3sum, blowjob, deepthroating, spit play, hair pulling, breast play, nipple play, dirty talk, dominance, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, body worship, rough sex, two hot bitches feral for cock

Bio can wait. The two baddest bitches at school just told you to skip class with them. Who the fuck would say no? Especially when its Karina and Ning.

no this is not in the same universe as "dumb" :P

The moment you push through the doors to your school's dance room, you know your plan for a solo practice is finished. Karina and Ningning are sprawled against the mirror wall, a perfect picture of cool indifference that somehow makes the empty room feel smaller.

They're wearing what they always wear—simple but devastatingly effective. Karina in high-waisted gray sweatpants that pool slightly at her ankles, paired with a fitted black long-sleeve crop zip up that rises just enough when she stretches. Ningning in similar wide-leg pants but with a simple white off-shoulder top that somehow makes her collarbones look like art. Both outfits say "I barely tried" while looking impossibly put-together.

They're those girls at school—the ones with presence, the ones who command attention without trying.

Everyone on the dance team is attractive in their own way—but they have that something extra. You've seen it countless times during team practices: the way other dancers give them space, how even the coach seems to hold their breath when they perform.

Karina's scrolling through her phone, platinum blonde waves cascading over her shoulders as she absently twists a strand of Ningning's dark hair between her fingers. Ningning has one AirPod in her ear, her dark eyes drifting up to catch yours before you even announce yourself. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's cool blonde presence against Ningning's warm, dark features—perfectly complementary in the way they occupy space.

"Of course," you mutter, dropping your bag near the door with a thud that's maybe a little louder than necessary.

Of course they taking up the whole floor (they're not)

You try to play it casual, hyper-aware of every movement you make. That's the thing about being dancers—you notice details. Sometimes you catch Karina's eyes lingering on you during practice, or notice how Ningning always ends up stretching near you, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Just the usual dance team dynamics. You're all physical people; boundaries blur. It doesn't mean anything.

Ningning stretches her arms over her head. "What are you pissed for? There's like, so much space."

"I need the whole floor to go full out," you say, gesturing vaguely to the room. "I'm working on that new combo."

Karina snorts without looking up from her phone. "Yeah, because you need the entire studio to practice the same eight-count for an hour."

Ningning laughs, then tilts her head slightly. "You wanna dip with us instead?" Her blonde-tinted waves fall over one shoulder as she shifts to look up at you, dark eyes expectant.

You're instantly torn. Dance has made you disciplined—fit, clean, and sharp on the floor—and that same discipline usually keeps your grades steady. Usually. But there was that chem test last week. And the English paper you turned in late. And now Bio tomorrow, which you're definitely not prepared for.

"Can't," you say, even as your eyes drift to where Karina's top meets the waistband of her sweatpants. "I've got a test next period. If I bomb another one, Coach will bench me for sure."

Karina finally looks up from her phone, golden-rimmed eyes locking with yours in the mirror. Your reflection stands tall behind theirs, and for a moment, the three of you make a symmetrical composition in the glass.

"That's cute," she says, a smirk playing at her lips. "Choosing bio over us." She shifts, her shoulder brushing against Ningning's, and something passes between them—some silent communication that makes Ningning bite her lower lip to suppress a smile.

"Pussy," Karina adds, the word landing soft but deliberate.

The question hangs in the air, and something in the atmosphere shifts. They're still draped against each other—Karina's head now resting on Ningning's shoulder, Ningning's fingers absently playing with the hem of Karina's top—but their attention is fully on you now. The casual indifference is gone, replaced by a focused intensity.

Karina's eyes narrow slightly, calculating. Ningning's lips part, just barely, like she's already anticipating your answer. The way they're looking at you makes your skin prickle with heat. It's the same look they get right before a performance—that blend of challenge and confidence that says they know exactly how good they are.

The logical part of your brain is still calculating how many points you need on tomorrow's test to maintain your eligibility for the showcase. You've already been warned about your grades. One more missed class and you might actually get suspended from the team. This isn't just about one bio test anymore.

But there's something about the way they're waiting, bodies still intertwined but faces turned toward you in perfect symmetry, that makes the decision feel momentous. Like this is some kind of turning point.

Your jaw ticks, just barely.

"Fuck it," you say finally, slinging your bag back over your shoulder. The relief on their faces is subtle but unmistakable, like you've passed some test you didn't know you were taking. "Say less."

The reason is simple, even if your GPA will suffer for it: you just wanted to hang with the two baddest girls at school. And when they both smile at you—Karina's slow and knowing, Ningning's bright and wicked—you can't bring yourself to regret it.

Not yet, anyway.

…

Ningning's house is just a short drive through the sprawl of suburban Southern California. By the time you arrive, all three of you are armed with Slurpees from a 7-Eleven pitstop—yours blue raspberry, Karina's cherry, and Ningning's a swirled mix of both that she sips like she's solved some great mystery of flavor.

Her room is exactly what you'd expect—a perfect blend of cozy and chaotic. Fairy lights wrap around the ceiling fan, with climbing ivy trailing down from the fixture, casting soft shadows across the walls. Posters cover nearly every inch of white space—Frank Ocean, SZA, Tyler the Creator, Tate McRae, Billie Eilish—with a round mirror breaking up the collage. Monstera plants thrive in the corner next to a small white bookshelf. The whole space glows in the afternoon light filtering through the windows.

You settle on the carpet, back against her bed, Slurpee in one hand, a bag of sour gummy worms in the other. But Karina? She's sitting directly on Ningning's lap, legs draped over hers, body leaned back lazily against Ningning's chest like they've done this a hundred times before. No hesitation, no awkwardness—just pure, easy closeness. They fit together the way bad bitches always do, like they know exactly how to take up space.

Leon Thomas hums from a speaker in the corner, his smooth vocals and the soft R&B bassline weaving into the atmosphere, just enough to fill the comfortable silence.

"Let's play a game," Karina says suddenly, her cherry-red nails tapping idly against Ningning's thigh.

"What kind of game?" You ask, already suspicious.

"Just questions. Truth only." Ningning grins, absently running her fingers through Karina's platinum hair. "I'll start easy. Who's the hottest on the team?"

You glance up from your drink, already knowing exactly where this is going. It's a setup. A trap.

You take a second, not too long, just enough to make it seem like you're actually considering your answer. But you know there's only one right response—the one even they would agree on.

"Chaewon."

"Fuck, such an obvious answer," Karina groans, throwing her head back dramatically. "She's so fucking hot."

"Ugh," Ningning adds, biting her lip. "I tried making out with her at Jungwoo's party last month and she wasn't feeling it. I almost died."

They exchange knowing looks, satisfied, like they'd already predicted your answer before you even opened your mouth. Karina leans back further into Ningning, reaching for her own Slurpee.

"Your turn," Ningning says, nodding at you.

You think for a moment. "Best dancer in the crew?"

"Me, obviously," Karina says without hesitation.

Ningning rolls her eyes but doesn't argue.

"Fair," you concede with a smile.

"My turn," Karina says, her voice dropping slightly. "Ever hooked up with anyone from the team?"

The question hangs in the air. It's an escalation, but not entirely unexpected.

"Yes," you answer, taking a sip of your Slurpee.

Their eyes widen simultaneously. "Who?" Ningning demands, leaning forward.

You shake your head. "That wasn't the question."

Karina narrows her eyes. "Sneaky. I respect it." She turns to Ningning. "That's definitely our next question."

"What about you two?" you ask, deflecting.

Karina shrugs. "Not with anyone from the team."

Something in her inflection makes you pause. "But with each other?"

They exchange a look, this one different—a silent communication you can't quite read. Without saying a word, Karina turns her head, meeting Ningning's eyes with a smirk. Ningning doesn't hesitate. She cups Karina's face and pulls her in, capturing her lips in a kiss that's anything but casual.

Jesusfuckwhat.

Karina's hand slides up to Ningning's neck, fingers tangling in her hair as their mouths move against each other. Ningning's other hand drifts down, boldly palming Karina's breast through her top. You watch, frozen, as Karina lets out the faintest sound against Ningning's lips.

Is this actually happening right now? Your throat goes dry as you try to process what you're seeing, your Slurpee forgotten in your suddenly tense grip.

When they finally part, Karina's lipgloss is smudged, and both are breathing heavier, their eyes dark when they turn to gauge your reaction. Neither says anything—they don't need to. The answer is written all over their flushed faces.

And they're just gonna act like that didn't happen? Like they didn't just—

"Your turn," Karina says, her voice noticeably huskier now, acting like she didn't just have her breast grabbed in front of you. "What's your biggest turn-on?"

You blink, trying to recalibrate. The game is apparently still on, despite the fact that your brain is still processing what you just witnessed.

You swallow. "Someone who takes control without asking."

Ningning smirks, running her thumb across her bottom lip to fix her smudged gloss. "Noted."

What the fuck is happening right now?

It's Ningning's turn, and she doesn't hesitate: "Who on the team did you hook up with?"

You consider lying, but decide against it. "Yujin."

That night in her car after the showcase. Her skin under your hands, the way she bit her lip to stay quiet...

"Shut the fuck up," Karina's jaw drops, her eyes widening with what looks suspiciously like jealousy. "Are you serious?"

"She's hot as fuck too, what the hell?" Ningning looks genuinely offended, sitting up straighter, dislodging Karina slightly. "How are you pulling the baddest girls and we didn't even know?"

Karina narrows her eyes. "When did this happen? And why didn't she tell anyone?"

Because she asked me not to tell anyone. Because it was just that one time. But you just shrug, enjoying their reactions more than you should.

The questions heat up rapidly.

"If you could do anything to anyone in this room right now, what would it be?" Karina asks, fingers now tracing patterns on Ningning's arm.

You consider your words carefully. "I'd rather show than tell."

"Bold," Ningning says with approval. "But you'll have to wait your turn."

"Ever watched porn with someone else?" Karina asks, changing tactics.

"No."

"Wanna start?" Ningning challenges, raising an eyebrow.

The game accelerates. Boundaries blur. Questions become increasingly explicit.

"Where's the riskiest place you've hooked up?"

"What's something you want to try but haven't yet?"

"Have you ever thought about either of us while getting yourself off?"

"If you could do anything to anyone in this room right now, what would it be?"

Your answers grow bolder. Theirs grow filthier. With each revelation, the space between you shrinks, though neither of them has moved from their position.

"Have you ever fantasized about being with two people at once?" Karina asks, no longer pretending this is just a game.

"Yes," you admit.

"Anyone specific in mind?" Ningning presses.

You look from one to the other, letting the silence answer for you.

With each answer, the air in the room grows thicker, charged, until Karina finally shifts on Ningning's lap to face you directly.

"You're pretty hot, you know that?" Her voice is smooth, casual, like she's just stating a fact. She doesn't look at you when she says it, just keeps tapping her nails, waiting to see how you react.

Ningning hums in agreement, finally meeting your gaze. "Especially when you dance."

You shift slightly, a near-imperceptible reaction, but they catch it. Of course they do. Dancers notice everything. The way your grip tightens slightly on your cup, the flicker of something unreadable in your eyes before you school your expression back into something neutral.

You keep your cool. You're unsure where this is going, but you don't back down.

Karina stretches her arms above her head, arching her back slightly against Ningning. The movement causes her top to ride up, exposing a sliver of skin at her waist. It feels too deliberate, too precise to be casual. Your mouth goes dry.

They know exactly what they're doing.

Ningning's hand settles on Karina's hip, fingers splayed possessively as she adjusts her position on her lap. You can't help but track the movement. The room suddenly feels ten degrees warmer, and you shift your position on the floor, grateful you're sitting cross-legged.

Karina takes a long sip of her Slurpee, her eyes never leaving yours over the rim of the cup. When she pulls away, she runs her tongue slowly over her cherry-stained lips, catching a drop.

Jesus Christ.

You blink rapidly, heart pounding against your ribs. Heat crawls up your neck, and you're acutely aware of every inch of your body—especially the parts now responding all too obviously to their performance.

They exchange one last look, a silent confirmation passing between them. Ningning's eyes darken slightly as she tilts her head, expression unreadable but sharp, like she's weighing something in her mind.

Then, just like that, she drops it.

"Yo, be honest, would you fuck both of us?"

Did she really just ask that?

The shift is immediate.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

Everything in the room feels different now—the air heavier, charged with something unspoken. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you process the question, trying to read their expressions for any sign they're messing with you.

You're caught between laughing it off or taking it seriously. But when you look at them, really look, you realize—

They're serious.

"Are you—" you start, voice catching slightly. "Is this for real?"

Instead of answering, Karina slides off Ningning's lap in one fluid motion, the kind of movement that reminds you why she's first in every formation. She kneels in front of you, close enough that you can smell her perfume—something expensive and subtle that's been driving you crazy all afternoon.

Her eyes never leave yours as her fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to trace along your stomach. The touch sends electricity up your spine.

"We've been thinking about this since that showcase last month," Ningning says, her voice softer than usual as she moves to join Karina. "The way you danced that night..."

They were watching me?

Karina's mouth crashes into yours with unexpected hunger. It's not just a kiss—it's a claiming. Her tongue slides against yours, hot and insistent, tasting like the cherry Slurpee and something sweeter underneath. She sucks your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. Her hands fist in your hair, pulling you closer, angling your head exactly how she wants it.

When she finally releases you, your lips are tingling, slick with her spit. You barely have time to gasp before Ningning turns your face toward her, her fingers digging into your jaw.

Her kiss is even more aggressive—open-mouthed and demanding. Her teeth graze your lip, biting down just hard enough to sting before soothing the spot with her tongue. You feel Karina's mouth on your neck now, sucking hard enough to leave marks, her hands shoving your shirt up roughly.

"Fuck," you breathe against Ningning's lips as Karina's nails rake down your chest.

Is this actually happening? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Without warning, Karina's hand finds the back of Ningning's neck, pulling her away from you. For a brief second, you think something's wrong—until they crash together right in front of you, mouths colliding in a kiss that's nothing short of filthy. Karina's tongue slides along Ningning's bottom lip before pushing inside, Ningning moaning into her mouth, hands gripping Karina's waist to pull her closer.

Your hands move on instinct, reaching out to touch them. Fingers grazing Karina's sides, palm flat against Ningning's lower back. They don't stop kissing, but Karina reaches blindly for your hand, guiding it higher along her body until you're cupping her breast through her top. Ningning breaks the kiss just long enough to suck in a breath when your other hand slides down to grip her ass.

They continue making out, but now it's a performance for you as much as it is for them. Karina bites Ningning's lower lip, tugging it between her teeth while looking directly at you. A string of saliva connects their mouths when they briefly part before diving back in, messier this time, wetter. Ningning's hand finds the back of your neck, keeping you close, letting you feel their breath, almost encouraging you to join.

When they finally pull apart, both their lips are swollen, shiny with spit. Ningning pulls you in for another kiss, the taste of Karina still on her tongue. You can taste both of them now, the flavors mingling as Ningning licks into your mouth with deliberate slowness. Karina's fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. She drags her tongue up your throat, teeth scraping along your pulse point.

Ningning's fingers twist in your hair, yanking your head back further to expose more of your neck. The sharp pull sends a jolt straight to your groin. She works her way down the opposite side from Karina, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that make your skin burn. You're trapped between them, their bodies pressing against you from both sides.

The sensation of their mouths—one on your neck, one on your collarbone, then trading places with practiced coordination—is overwhelming. Karina sucks your earlobe between her teeth while Ningning's tongue traces the hollow at the base of your throat.

Then they're kissing each other over your shoulder again, but it's nothing like the controlled display from earlier. This is raw, messy, desperate. Karina moans into Ningning's mouth, their tongues visibly sliding against each other. Ningning's hand is still in your hair, Karina's palm flat against your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat. You watch, transfixed, as Karina's teeth catch Ningning's bottom lip, as Ningning's fingers tighten in Karina's platinum hair.

"Get the fuck up," Karina breathes when they finally pull apart, her lips swollen, a flush spreading across her chest. She grabs the front of your shirt, hauling you to your feet.

Ningning's already pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. Her hands immediately explore your torso, fingers tracing the definition in your abs, your chest, your shoulders. Karina drops to her knees, working on your jeans, her knuckles deliberately dragging against your hardness through the denim.

"Goddamn," Ningning whispers, lips against your ear as her hands slide around to grip your ass. "Been wondering what you were hiding under those practice clothes."

"Sit," Karina commands, pushing you backwards until you hit the edge of the bed and drop down.

They stand before you, and for the first time, you get a moment to just... look. To really take them in.

Karina unzips her long-sleeve crop top with deliberate slowness, revealing an expanse of smooth skin inch by inch. Her collarbones cast delicate shadows, her shoulders slim but toned from years of dance. When the top finally falls away, the black lace of her bra is a stark contrast against her pale skin, barely containing her full chest. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her sweatpants, pushing them down her hips in one fluid motion, stepping out of them gracefully, her curves unmistakable even in the fading afternoon light.

Ningning watches your reaction to Karina, a smirk playing on her lips before she pulls her own shirt over her head. Her body is different—more delicate frame with gentle curves, her light blue bra a perfect complement to her fair skin. She stretches her arms overhead, an unnecessary movement that's purely for your benefit, showing off her slender waist and the subtle definition in her stomach. Her sweatpants come off next, revealing slim legs that somehow look even longer than they are.

They stand there for a moment, letting you drink them in. Karina in black lace, Ningning in light blue cotton that somehow looks just as sexy. Their dancer's bodies—Karina's fuller curves and Ningning's delicate frame—on full display.

Holy fucking shit. This cannot be real.

"Like what you see?" Ningning asks, head tilted, eyes dark with want.

Words fail you entirely. You just nod, mouth dry.

They move toward you in perfect tandem, the bed dipping as they climb on either side of you. The heat of their bodies is scorching against your skin. Karina's mouth finds your chest first, her tongue tracing a wet path from your collarbone down to your nipple. She bites down gently, watching your reaction through hooded eyes. Ningning works on the other side, her lips softer but no less insistent, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder.

Their hands explore every inch of you—Karina's nails scraping down your abs, Ningning's fingers tracing the V-line of your hips. You feel Karina's teeth against your ribs, leaving marks that will be visible tomorrow at practice. Ningning's tongue darts out to taste the salt on your skin, her hands gripping your biceps, feeling the muscles tense under her touch.

They work their way down your body with agonizing slowness. Karina's mouth blazing a trail along your stomach while Ningning's lips press against each vertebra of your spine. The dual sensation of their tongues—one hot against your abs, the other tracing the dimples at the small of your back—has you practically panting.

"Fuck, he tastes good," Karina murmurs against your skin, her words vibrating through you.

"Let me," Ningning replies, and suddenly they're trading places, Karina's weight shifting behind you while Ningning moves to kneel between your legs. She presses her mouth to your stomach, tongue dipping into your navel, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans.

Karina's breath is hot against the back of your neck, her full breasts pressed against your back, nipples hard even through the barrier of her bra. "You like that?" she whispers, her hands sliding around to your chest, fingers pinching your nipples just enough to make you hiss.

Ningning looks up at you from under her lashes, a wicked smile on her lips as she moves lower, her mouth now hovering just above the visible bulge in your jeans.

Karina slides around to your side, impatient. "Let's see what you're working with," she breathes, hunger evident in her voice.

Karina's mouth finds yours again, swallowing your groans as she continues to grind against you. Ningning turns your head, breaking the kiss so she can claim your mouth instead. You feel Karina's lips trail down your neck, your chest, moving lower with clear intent.

Their hands work at your jeans in tandem, Ningning popping the button open while Karina drags the zipper down with agonizing slowness. Karina's mouth finds yours again, kissing you deeply as Ningning tugs your jeans down your thighs, taking your boxers with them. She pulls them completely off your legs, tossing them somewhere behind her, leaving you fully exposed as your cock springs free, harder than you can ever remember being, already leaking at the tip.

"Oh my god!," Karina breathes, breaking the kiss to look down, genuine surprise in her voice.

Ningning crawls back up, pushing Karina aside to get a better view. "Let me see," she demands, her eyes widening as she takes you in. "Goddamn."

"Fuck, no wonder Yujin kept quiet about this," Karina says, wrapping her hand around you, testing your girth with her fingers barely meeting around your shaft. "Selfish bitch kept this all to herself."

"I can't believe our first threesome is with a dick this good," Ningning murmurs, her eyes fixed on Karina's hand stroking you slowly. "Wish I'd known what you were hiding under those practice sweats."

Karina nods in agreement, her thumb collecting the bead of precum from your tip and smearing it down your length. "Goddamn, we picked the right guy to skip with today."

Their reactions send a surge of confidence through you. The power dynamic shifts—their impressed expressions giving you an unexpected edge in whatever game you've all decided to play.

Maybe I can handle these two after all.

Karina recovers first, her confidence returning as she slides back onto your lap, this time with just her underwear separating you from her heat. She takes your hands, guiding them deliberately to her body—one to her breast, the other to her hip—while leaning in to kiss you deeply. Her tongue slides against yours, claiming your mouth as she grinds down against your exposed cock, the thin fabric of her panties already soaked through.

"Touch me," she commands against your lips, and you don't need to be told twice. Your fingers knead her full breast, feeling the hardened nipple through the lace as your other hand grips her hip, guiding her movements against you. The wet patch of her panties drags against your length, the friction making you both groan.

"Fuck, your tits feel even better than they look," you murmur against her mouth, gaining confidence as you squeeze harder, making her gasp.

Ningning circles behind you, her knees bracketing yours on the bed. Her hands slide over your shoulders, down your chest, her lips finding your ear. "She thinks she's in charge," she whispers, her teeth grazing your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine, "but we both know better, don't we?" Her fingers pinch your nipples, the sharp pain making your cock twitch against Karina.

You're sandwiched between them—Karina's weight on your lap, her body rolling against yours in a perfect rhythm, the lace of her bra scraping against your chest as she moves, and Ningning pressed against your back, her breasts soft against your shoulder blades, her breath hot on your neck. Karina's mouth leaves yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, sucking hard enough to mark you, while Ningning's hands roam lower, one sliding between you and Karina to wrap around your cock.

"Fuck," you hiss as her cold fingers encircle you, giving a slow, tight stroke that has your hips bucking involuntarily, pushing you deeper into her grip and harder against Karina's core.

Karina moans at the increased pressure, her head falling back, platinum hair cascading down her back as she rocks harder against you. The movement pushes your cock along her slit through the thin fabric, the head catching on her clit with each stroke.

"I knew you'd feel this good," Karina breathes, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure as she watches your face, her lipstick smudged, her cheeks flushed. She takes your hand from her hip, guiding it between her legs, pressing your fingers against the soaked lace. "Feel what you're doing to me."

Your fingers press against her through the fabric, feeling the slick heat there. You can feel how swollen she is, how wet, even through the barrier. You rub your thumb in slow circles, watching her face contort with pleasure.

"Goddamn," you breathe, feeling her wetness seep through the lace onto your fingers. "You're fucking soaked."

"Can you blame me?" she says, grinding harder against your hand, her movements becoming less coordinated as pleasure builds. "Who knew you were hiding all this..." She gasps as your thumb presses harder, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

Ningning's hand continues to stroke you, her grip tightening just beneath the head on each upstroke, twisting slightly in a way that has your thighs tensing. Her teeth find the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to make you groan. "Don't forget about me," she whispers, her other hand reaching around to pull Karina's face toward her.

They kiss over your shoulder, messy and aggressive, all tongues and teeth, while their hands continue to work you both. You watch, entranced, as Karina moans into Ningning's mouth, her hips still moving against your hand, Ningning's fingers still wrapped tight around your cock.

The image of them kissing while touching you, while grinding against you, is almost enough to push you over the edge right there. You feel the familiar tightening, the building pressure. Ningning must sense it because she squeezes the base of your cock, staving off your orgasm.

"Not yet," she breathes against Karina's lips. "I want more than just my hand on him."

Karina pulls back from the kiss, lips swollen and wet. "Greedy bitch," she says, but there's no real heat behind it, just desire. She grinds against you one more time, the friction delicious but not enough, before lifting herself off your lap.

Before you can process what's happening, Karina drops to her knees between your legs, shoving them apart roughly. Her nails dig into your thighs as she positions herself, looking up at you through her lashes, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

"Hold on," she says, sitting back on her heels. She reaches behind her head, gathering her platinum hair in her hands. The movement lifts her chest, her arms raised, exposing the soft skin of her armpits and stretching the fabric of her bra against her breasts. She works quickly, twisting her hair into a messy bun at the top of her head.

The sight of her—arms raised, back arched slightly, body on display—makes your cock twitch with anticipation. She catches your reaction and smirks, knowing exactly what she's doing.

"Fuck, I need to taste it," she murmurs, her breath hot against your length. She runs her tongue from the base to the tip in one long, slow stroke, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When she reaches the head, she pulls back slightly, letting a string of saliva fall from her lips onto your cock. She works it in with her hand, coating you before wrapping her lips around the tip, sucking hard enough to hollow her cheeks.

Ningning watches intently from beside you, her hand absently stroking your thigh. As Karina works you deeper into her mouth, Ningning reaches behind her own back, unclasping her light blue bra. She slides the straps down her arms slowly, revealing her small, perfect breasts, the nipples already hard.

Your hand instinctively reaches for her, palm cupping the soft weight, thumb brushing over the hardened peak. She sighs at your touch, leaning into your hand as she watches Karina suck you.

The sight alone is almost enough to make you cum—Karina, the girl half the guys at school would kill to talk to, on her knees with your cock in her mouth, her platinum hair pulled up to give you a perfect view, while your hand explores Ningning's bare breast.

Karina takes you inch by inch, her tongue pressed flat against the underside, creating delicious pressure as she sucks. Her hand works what doesn't fit, twisting in tandem with her mouth's movements, spit already making her fingers glide smoothly along your shaft. You feel the vibration of her moan around you as she takes you deeper, the hot, wet pressure of her mouth making your toes curl.

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips still brushing against your tip. "Fuck, you taste so good," she breathes, her eyes heavy-lidded with genuine pleasure. "Better than I thought you would."

She descends again, moaning around your length in a way that tells you she's enjoying this just as much as you are. The vibrations from her throat send shockwaves of pleasure through your cock.

"Jesus Christ," you breathe, your free hand instinctively going to Karina's hair, tangling in the loose strands that frame her face. She moans around you as you tug slightly, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure up your spine.

Just as you're settling into the sensation, she's yanked backward, Ningning's hand fisted in her hair, pulling hard enough to make Karina yelp.

"My turn," Ningning says, her voice sharper than before, edged with hunger. She moves between your legs, but first reaches behind Karina, unhooking her bra with practiced ease. "Take this off. I want to see you."

Karina complies, shrugging the black lace from her shoulders, her full breasts bouncing slightly as they're freed. Your mouth goes dry at the sight—both of them now topless, their dancer's bodies on full display.

Ningning sits back momentarily, mimicking Karina's earlier motion as she gathers her hair, arms raised above her head, body stretched long and lean. The position emphasizes the delicate curve of her waist, the subtle definition of her stomach. She secures her hair in a high ponytail, a few strands falling to frame her face.

"Much better," she says, settling between your legs. Rather than starting slow, she spits directly onto your cock, the warm saliva dripping down your length, trickling over your balls in a sensation that makes you shiver. She spreads it with both hands, stroking you a few times before wrapping her lips around you.

The first slide of her mouth around you is electric—different from Karina's technique, more aggressive from the start. She takes you deep immediately, your tip hitting the back of her throat, the muscles there contracting around you in a rippling sensation that makes your vision blur momentarily. You feel every millimeter of her throat closing around your head, squeezing in a way that's almost too intense.

She pulls back, gasping for air, but her eyes are bright with excitement. "Fuck, you're so big," she breathes, stroking you with her hand. "Feel so fucking good stretching my throat." She dives back down with enthusiasm, humming in satisfaction as she takes you deep again, the vibrations traveling through your entire length.

Karina moves to your side, pressing her now bare chest against your arm. Your hand immediately finds her breast, significantly fuller than Ningning's, the nipple stiff against your palm. You squeeze gently, drawing a soft moan from her as she watches Ningning take you deep.

The dual sensation is overwhelming—Ningning's hot mouth around your cock, taking you deeper than Karina had, her throat constricting rhythmically around your tip with each swallow, while your hands explore Karina's body, feeling the softness of her skin, the firmness of her breast in your palm.

This is not real life. This cannot be real life.

The sight of Ningning on her knees, lips stretched wide around your cock, eyes watering slightly as she takes you to the back of her throat, is almost too much. Her technique is different from Karina's—less teasing, more focused on depth and suction, her hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. Each time she pulls back, you feel the cool air against your saliva-slick skin for just a moment before she descends again, taking you impossibly deep.

Karina presses closer, guiding your hand to her breast again while she watches Ningning work. Your fingers pinch her nipple lightly, drawing a soft gasp from her that turns into a smile. She leans in to kiss your neck, her teeth grazing your pulse point as Ningning continues to suck you, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room.

"You're doing it wrong," Karina says after a minute, tugging Ningning's hair hard enough to make her release you with a wet pop, a thick string of saliva still connecting her lips to your glistening cock. She moves between your legs, gently pushing Ningning to the side.

Ningning doesn't move far. Instead, she shifts to your other side, pressing her small, firm breasts against your arm, guiding your hand to touch her as Karina had done. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's fuller, heavier breasts against Ningning's smaller, perkier ones, both equally perfect in different ways.

Your hands explore their bodies as they continue taking turns with your cock—feeling the taut muscles of their dancer's bodies, the softness of their breasts, the hardness of their nipples against your palms. Karina arches into your touch, more vocal in her enjoyment, while Ningning responds with subtle shifts of her body, pressing herself harder against your hand.

Karina pushes Ningning aside, but instead of taking you directly into her mouth, she gathers saliva and lets it fall in a long, obscene strand onto your cock. The warm wetness slides down your shaft, pooling at the base and dripping onto your balls, the sensation making your cock twitch visibly. She spreads it with both hands, one working the shaft while the other focuses on the head, applying more pressure on the upstroke. Her technique is more deliberate—twisting motions, varying pressure, her thumb occasionally swiping over the sensitive spot just beneath the head.

"Watch and learn," she tells Ningning before taking just the tip between her lips, sucking firmly while her hands continue their assault, working you with practiced precision. Each stroke is wetter than the last, her spit making obscene squelching sounds as she pumps you. You feel the suction of her mouth intensifying as she hollows her cheeks, the pressure building at the base of your spine.

She releases you with a gasp, her eyes glazed with arousal. "So fucking good," she moans, jerking you faster. "Love how you throb in my mouth." She's not performing anymore—the pleasure in her voice is raw and genuine as she takes you in again, moaning around your length like she's tasting something delicious.

Not to be outdone, Ningning moves closer. "Let me show you how it's really done," she says, nudging Karina to share. She gathers a mouthful of saliva and lets it drip directly onto your cock where Karina's hands are still working, the added wetness making the glide even smoother. The warm spit runs down to your balls, the tickling sensation making your thighs tense.

Then she ducks lower, her mouth finding your balls. She takes one gently between her lips, sucking lightly while Karina continues working the shaft, their combined efforts making your head spin. The contrast between Karina's firm strokes and Ningning's gentle suction creates a dual sensation that has you groaning, your hands tangling in the sheets.

Ningning hums against your sensitive skin, the vibration traveling up your shaft. "Mmm, I can feel you getting closer," she purrs, her breath hot against your balls. "Getting harder for us." She sucks again, moaning like she's savoring the taste and feel of you, her enthusiasm unmistakable.

Karina watches Ningning with growing arousal, her own breathing heavy. "He tastes so fucking good," she tells Ningning, almost reverently. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Fuck," you groan, hips lifting involuntarily, the muscles in your stomach clenching. "This really your guys' first threesome? There's no fucking way you're both this perfect at this."

They exchange a look, something passing between them that you can't quite read. Then, without warning, they both move at once. Karina releases your cock from her grip, allowing Ningning to take you deep into her throat in one smooth motion, her nose pressing against your stomach as she swallows around you. The tight squeeze of her throat has you seeing stars, the rhythmic contractions milking your length as she holds herself there, her eyes watering from the effort. You hear a muffled moan vibrating around your cock as she takes you, a sound of pure pleasure that makes your hips buck involuntarily.

The sensation is indescribable—hot, wet pressure surrounding every inch of you, her throat muscles rippling involuntarily around your head, her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft. You feel yourself hit the back of her throat and then push beyond, into the tighter passage that spasms around you.

When she pulls back for air, a thick strand of spit connects her lips to your cock. Before it can break, Karina leans forward, connecting her mouth to Ningning's through the spit strand, the two of them sharing a messy kiss with your cock between them. Their tongues visibly slide against each other, spit passing between their mouths before both turn their attention back to your cock.

"Holy shit," you breathe, unable to look away as they kiss, their tongues visibly sliding against each other, spit passing between their mouths before both turn their attention back to your cock.

Now they work in tandem, taking turns—Karina sucking the head while Ningning strokes the shaft with spit-slicked hands, then switching, Ningning taking you deep while Karina's hands massage your balls. The constant switching, the different pressures and sensations, the visual of them trading your cock between their mouths, is mind-bending.

Karina pulls off with a gasp, a line of spit connecting her bottom lip to your cock. Ningning immediately takes her place, but not before Karina spits directly onto your length, adding to the mess. Ningning works the extra wetness in with her hand before taking you deep again, her eyes watering as she pushes past her gag reflex.

The competition escalates further. Karina yanks Ningning off by her hair, replacing her mouth with her own. She takes you as deep as she can, gagging slightly but pushing through it, determined to outdo Ningning. When she comes up for air, Ningning is ready with another gob of spit, this time letting it fall into Karina's open mouth. Karina takes it, letting it mix with her own saliva before dripping it all onto your cock.

"Fuck," you groan, watching the exchange with wide eyes. The sight of Karina's mouth open, receiving Ningning's spit, then the combined wetness falling onto your cock, is filthier than anything you've ever seen.

They're getting progressively sloppier, wetter, messier with each passing minute. Ningning holds your cock at the base, pointing it toward Karina's waiting mouth, but before Karina can take you in, Ningning spits onto the head. Karina smiles, working the wetness in before adding her own spit, creating a growing puddle of saliva that drips down onto your balls.

The visual is obscene—both of their faces are wet with spit, their lipstick long gone, hair messed up from where you've grabbed it, eyes dark with desire as they work you between them. Your cock is coated in a sheen of their combined saliva, glistening in the fading light of Ningning's room.

The wetness is incredible—warm spit running down your shaft, pooling at the base, dripping onto your balls and beyond. Each stroke of their hands spreads it further, creating a slick, frictionless glide that has your toes curling. The sounds are just as filthy—wet suction, obscene slurping, the squelch of saliva between their fingers as they stroke you.

Then they change tactics. Instead of taking turns, they position themselves on either side of your cock. Karina takes the head into her mouth while Ningning works the shaft with her tongue, both of them moving in a synchronized rhythm that has your thighs tensing. You feel the different textures—Karina's soft lips sealed around your tip, the suction of her mouth pulling at you, while Ningning's tongue traces patterns along your shaft, occasionally dipping lower to tease your balls.

When they switch, it's seamless—Ningning taking the head while Karina's tongue traces patterns along the underside. Their eyes meet over your cock, some unspoken competition still driving them, but now they're working together to destroy you completely.

"He tastes so fucking good when he's about to cum," Karina whispers to Ningning, her voice raspy with desire. "Can you taste it?"

Ningning nods, her lips never leaving your skin. "Mmm, getting saltier," she agrees, moaning as she takes you into her mouth again. She pulls off with a wet pop. "Love how he twitches on my tongue."

Their obvious enjoyment, the way they're talking about you like you're some delicious treat they can't get enough of, pushes you even closer to the edge.

The most obscene moment comes when they both press their open mouths to either side of your shaft, essentially making out with each other with your cock between their lips. Their tongues slide against your skin and occasionally touch each other, sharing spit as they work you from base to tip. The sensation of both their tongues, both their mouths, both their breaths against your most sensitive skin has your head spinning.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groan, your hands fisting in the sheets, hips lifting involuntarily. "I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," Karina says, pulling back, her hand squeezing the base of your cock hard enough to stave off your orgasm. Her lips are swollen, her chin and chest slick with spit and precum. "We're just getting started with you."

Ningning's eyes are dark with want as she looks up at you, her mouth and chin equally wet, a strand of saliva still connecting her bottom lip to the side of your cock. "We haven't even decided who goes first," she says, her voice raspy from taking you so deep.

Karina wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze predatory. "And I'm not done showing off what I can do with my mouth."

Is this actually my life right now? How the fuck did I end up here?

The tension between your need to cum and their determination to edge you builds to a breaking point. Just as you think you can't take anymore, Ningning makes a decisive move, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you backward onto the bed.

"My turn to feel good," she announces, climbing up your body with predatory grace. Her small, perfect breasts hang above you as she straddles your chest, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your torso. "Scoot back," she commands, waiting for you to shift until your head is properly on the bed.

Without hesitation, she moves forward, positioning herself directly over your face. Through the thin fabric of her panties, you can see how wet she is, a dark patch spreading across the cotton. The scent of her arousal hits you—sweet and musky and intoxicating.

"Show me what you did to Yujin," she demands, lowering herself until her covered core is just inches from your mouth.

You reach up, hooking your fingers into the sides of her panties, pulling them to the side to expose her completely. The sight of her pussy makes your mouth water—she's got a neat landing strip of dark hair leading down to otherwise perfectly bare lips. The contrast of the carefully maintained strip against her pale skin speaks to her personality—controlled yet still wild underneath. Her folds are delicate, pink and glistening with arousal, already swollen and parted slightly, revealing the deeper pink within. She's absolutely soaked, her wetness visible from her entrance all the way up to her small, perfect clit that peeks out from beneath its hood.

"Fuck, you're pretty," you murmur before lifting your head to run your tongue through her slit in one long, firm stroke, tasting her fully for the first time.

"Shit," she gasps, her thighs trembling slightly as she grips the headboard for support.

You continue exploring her with your tongue, learning what makes her breath hitch and her thighs quiver. You trace around her entrance, gathering her wetness before moving up to circle her clit, alternating pressure and speed to keep her guessing.

Meanwhile, Karina hasn't forgotten about your cock. You feel her mouth envelop you again, picking up where they left off, but with a new urgency. She takes you impossibly deep, her throat constricting around your head as her hands massage your balls.

"Don't forget about me down here," she whines when she comes up for air, her hand replacing her mouth as she strokes you firmly. "Just because she's getting your tongue doesn't mean I'm done with your cock."

The dual sensation—Ningning's wetness on your tongue, Karina's mouth and hand working your length—creates a sensory overload that makes your head spin. You grip Ningning's thighs, pulling her more firmly against your face, your tongue diving deeper into her heat.

"Fuck, your tongue is fucking insane," Ningning moans, her hips beginning to roll against your mouth with more purpose. "The way you—shit—the way you flick it right there."

You focus your attention on her clit, alternating between fast flutters and firm circular motions, watching her reactions to learn exactly what drives her wild. Her thighs tense and tremble around your head, her breathing becoming more labored.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she chants, grinding herself shamelessly against your face now. "Your fucking tongue, holy shit—don't stop, please don't stop."

From below, you hear and feel Karina's response—the wet suction of her mouth intensifies, her pace increasing to match your efforts on Ningning. The competition continues, each trying to divert your attention and pleasure to themselves.

"He's already shaking," Karina observes after pulling off your cock with a wet pop, her hand continuing to stroke you firmly. "His cock gets harder every time you moan, Ning."

Ningning looks down between her legs at you, then back over her shoulder at Karina. Without breaking the rhythm of her hips against your mouth, she reaches back with one hand. Karina meets her halfway, their fingers intertwining in a brief moment of unity despite their ongoing competition.

"Fuck, I think I could die on his tongue," Ningning confesses, her voice thick with pleasure but not quite at the breaking point. "No wonder Yujin kept coming back."

You feel a surge of pride at her words, doubling your efforts, flattening your tongue to provide a broad surface for her to grind against while occasionally dipping into her entrance. Her taste is addictive—tangy and sweet with a hint of something uniquely her. Your chin and lips are completely coated in her arousal now, the obscene wetness making filthy sounds with each movement.

As amazing as it feels having Ningning on your face, you're acutely aware of Karina working diligently between your legs, her mouth and hands tag-teaming your cock with relentless precision. Each time you feel yourself getting close, she backs off just enough, squeezing the base or slowing her rhythm to keep you right on the edge.

"You taste so fucking good," you murmur against Ningning's pussy, the vibration of your words making her gasp. "Could eat you for hours."

"Please," she whimpers, her body trembling with the effort of restraining her orgasm. She's close—you can feel it in the way her thighs tense, see it in the flush spreading across her chest, hear it in the pitch of her moans.

But before she can tip over the edge, you pull back slightly, easing the pressure on her clit, focusing instead on long, slow strokes through her folds. Her frustrated groan makes you smile against her wet flesh.

"Evil," she hisses, recognizing what you're doing—giving her just enough to keep her on the edge but not enough to push her over.

Two can play at that game.

You feel a newfound confidence swelling within you. Making Ningning tremble above you while Karina worships your cock below has awakened something primal and commanding. You're done being the passive recipient of their attention.

You grip Ningning's hips firmly, lifting her off your face despite her whine of protest. "Move," you tell her, your voice rougher than usual. "I want to try something else."

Ningning slides off you reluctantly, her chest heaving, lips swollen from biting them to hold back her moans. Karina looks up from between your legs, her chin wet with spit, eyes questioning.

"Get on your hands and knees," you tell Karina, sitting up and pointing to the middle of the bed. "Facing Ningning."

Karina's eyebrows raise, a slight smirk playing on her lips, but she complies, crawling into position on all fours across the bed. Her platinum hair falls around her face as she looks up at Ningning, who's watching this shift in dynamic with undisguised interest, still breathing heavily from her near-orgasm.

You position yourself behind Karina, taking a moment to appreciate the view—the elegant curve of her spine, the swell of her ass, the way her hair cascades down her back. You run your hands over her skin, feeling the goosebumps that rise in the wake of your touch.

With deliberate slowness, you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her thighs. The reveal is exquisite—unlike Ningning's landing strip, Karina is completely bare, her pussy smooth and flawlessly waxed. Her lips are fuller than Ningning's, her pink folds more pronounced, glistening with an abundance of arousal that's already begun dripping down her inner thighs. She's swollen with need, her entrance visibly pulsing as you watch.

"Fuck, look at you," you breathe, running a finger through her slick folds, collecting her wetness. She's so wet it makes an obscene sound, a lewd squelch that fills the room. "Soaked just from sucking my cock."

Karina looks back at you over her shoulder, eyes dark with want. "What are you waiting for?" she challenges, but the slight tremble in her voice betrays her desperation.

You grip your cock, still slick with their combined spit, and drag it through her folds, coating yourself in her wetness. The head catches on her clit, making her gasp and arch her back further.

"Please," she whispers, and the vulnerability in that single word hits you hard.

"Look at Ningning," you command, waiting until she turns her head forward.

Ningning has positioned herself cross-legged in front of Karina, close enough to touch, her eyes darting between Karina's face and your cock poised at her entrance.

This is it. This moment. After all the teasing, all the build-up, you're finally about to be inside one of them. The significance isn't lost on you—or them, judging by the anticipation crackling in the air.

You position yourself at her entrance, gripping her hips firmly with both hands, and then thrust forward in one smooth, relentless motion, burying yourself to the hilt inside her.

"Fucking hell!" Karina cries out, her arms nearly buckling from the sudden intrusion. She's impossibly tight around you, hot and wet and perfect. Her inner walls grip you like a vise, pulsing around your length in a way that nearly makes you cum on the spot.

"Goddamn," you hiss through clenched teeth, fighting for control. "So fucking tight."

You hold still for a moment, both to let her adjust and to regain your composure. The sensation is overwhelming—better than anything you could have imagined. Better than Yujin, better than anyone you've been with before.

Slowly, you pull back until just the tip remains inside, watching your length emerge coated in her arousal, before driving back in with deliberate force. She makes a choked sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets.

"Eat her out," you command Karina, nodding toward Ningning. "Show her what that pretty mouth can do."

Ningning's eyes widen at your directive, but she doesn't hesitate. She scoots closer, positioning herself so her pussy is directly in front of Karina's face. Karina leans forward eagerly despite the distraction of your cock still pumping into her, her tongue darting out to taste Ningning.

You establish a rhythm, your hips meeting Karina's ass with increasingly forceful thrusts. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mixing with Karina's muffled moans against Ningning's pussy and Ningning's sharper gasps.

"That's it," you encourage, your hand sliding up Karina's spine before tangling in her platinum hair, pulling just enough to arch her back further. "Make her feel good while I fuck you."

The visual is pornographic—Karina on all fours, her face buried between Ningning's thighs, her ass raised high as you pound into her from behind. Your cock glistens with her arousal each time you pull back, her wetness making the glide effortless despite how tightly she grips you.

"Fuck, she's good with her tongue too," Ningning moans, her hand coming down to grip Karina's hair, holding her firmly in place. "Not as good as you, but still—ah!—still fucking amazing."

The praise spurs Karina on, making her work harder to prove herself. You can feel her determination in the way she pushes back against your thrusts, meeting you halfway, taking you impossibly deeper.

You bring your hand down on her ass in a sharp slap, watching the flesh jiggle and redden under your palm. Karina jerks forward with a muffled cry, her inner walls clenching around your cock in response.

"You like that?" you ask, doing it again, harder this time.

Her answering moan, vibrating against Ningning's core, is all the confirmation you need. You develop a rhythm—thrust, slap, thrust, slap—each impact making her tighten around you, each moan making Ningning gasp.

"Fuck, don't stop," Ningning pants, her hips rolling against Karina's face with increasing urgency. "She gets better every time you spank her—fuck!—it's like she's trying to earn it."

You can tell they're both getting close, teetering on the edge of release. Karina's pussy is gripping you with almost painful intensity, fluttering with each thrust in a way that signals her approaching orgasm. Ningning's thighs are trembling, her chest flushed, her breathing ragged as she grinds against Karina's eager mouth.

But you're not ready for this to end. Not yet.

You pull out of Karina suddenly, making her whine against Ningning's pussy. At the same time, you reach forward to pull her away from Ningning, denying them both their release.

"Not yet," you tell them, your voice rough with desire but commanding in a way that surprises even you. "I'm not done with either of you."

They both look at you with identical expressions of frustration and arousal—lips swollen, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed. Karina's mouth and chin glisten with Ningning's arousal, while Ningning's thighs are visibly trembling from how close she was.

"Don't forget about me," Ningning says, her eyes fixed on your cock, still hard and slick with Karina's juices. "I want to feel that too."

"You had his mouth," Karina argues, turning to glare at her friend despite her breathlessness. "My turn to have something."

"Your pussy isn't the only one that needs attention," Ningning shoots back, crawling closer to you. "He obviously likes how I taste better anyway."

"Bullshit," Karina scoffs, reaching for your cock possessively. "He was practically shaking inside me. Weren't you?" She looks up at you, seeking confirmation.

The competition between them reignites, both vying for your attention, both desperate to be the one who makes you lose control first. But you've found your footing in this dynamic now, no longer overwhelmed by their beauty or intimidated by their confidence.

You know exactly what you want to do next.

After pounding into Karina with increasingly forceful thrusts, your control begins to waver. The wet heat of her pussy, the sight of her platinum hair bouncing with each impact, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting—it's all becoming too much.

"Fuck," you growl, suddenly pulling out completely with a lewd, wet sound. Your cock springs free, glistening with her arousal, bobbing heavily in the air between you. Karina whimpers at the loss, looking back at you over her shoulder with confusion and frustration in her eyes.

You take a deep breath, fighting for composure, and shift backward until you're settled against the headboard. Your cock stands at full attention, slick with Karina's arousal, veins prominent against the flushed skin, pulsing visibly with each heartbeat.

"Get over here," you command, voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Both of you."

The frustration on both their faces at being denied release only heightens your newfound confidence. Their flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and desperate eyes tell you everything you need to know—they're as close to the edge as you are.

"Ningning," you command, your voice leaving no room for argument. "Come ride me. Karina, you're on ball duty."

Their eyes widen at your sudden assertiveness, but neither hesitates. Ningning practically scrambles toward you, her small breasts bouncing with the movement, eyes dark with hunger. She straddles your thighs, positioning herself above your cock, while Karina crawls between your spread legs, her platinum hair falling around her face as she looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal.

Holy shit, who am I right now? When did I start giving orders to the two baddest girls at school?

You take a moment to truly look at Ningning hovering above you—her skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, making her body gleam in the scattered light. Droplets trail down between her breasts and along the defined lines of her dancer's abdomen. Her dark hair, once perfectly styled, now falls in messy strands around her face where it's escaped her ponytail. The contrast of her disheveled appearance against her usually perfect composure makes your cock throb with anticipation.

You reach up to trace the elegant curve of her collarbone, your finger dipping into the hollow at the base of her throat where sweat has pooled. Impulsively, you lean forward to lick the salt from her skin, dragging your tongue along the defined ridge before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. She gasps at the sensation, her hands gripping your shoulders for balance.

"You taste fucking incredible," you murmur against her skin, your lips moving down to capture a bead of sweat trickling between her breasts. "Even your sweat is sweet."

Her head falls back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat as you continue to explore her body with your mouth. Your hands roam freely, cupping her small, firm breasts, feeling the weight of them in your palms, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. They're incredibly responsive, stiffening further at your touch, drawing a whimper from her lips.

"Please," she whispers, her voice so different from her usual confident tone. "Need to feel you inside me now."

Ningning hovers above you, her entrance just brushing against your tip, teasing you both. You've had enough teasing. Your hands grip her narrow waist, fingertips digging into her soft skin as you pull her down onto your length in one forceful motion.

"Oh fuck!" she cries out, her body going rigid as you fill her completely. She's even tighter than Karina, her walls gripping you like a vise, her heat enveloping you in a way that makes your vision blur momentarily.

Her pussy feels different from Karina's—tighter, with more texture, gripping you in rhythmic pulses that suggest years of dance have strengthened muscles you're now benefiting from. Every tiny movement sends lightning through your nerve endings.

This cannot be real life. There's no way I'm inside Ningning right now with Karina watching. No fucking way.

You feel Karina's presence below, her breath hot against your thighs as she watches Ningning take you. The anticipation of her mouth on you while you're buried inside Ningning makes your cock swell even harder.

"Move," you growl, your hands still gripping Ningning's waist, guiding her into a rhythm. She begins to ride you, her hips rolling with a natural fluidity that showcases her dancer's body. Unlike Karina's more controlled movements, Ningning rides you with complete abandon, her head thrown back, small breasts bouncing with each drop of her hips.

Your hands slide from her waist to her ass, squeezing the firm globes, feeling the muscles flex and contract as she moves. Her skin is impossibly soft despite the toned muscle beneath. You spread her wider, your fingers digging into the supple flesh, controlling her movements even as she sets the pace.

Sweat drips down her temple, following the curve of her jaw before trailing down her neck. You lean forward to catch it with your tongue, tasting the salt of her exertion, the evidence of how hard she's working on your cock. Her hair has come further undone, dark strands sticking to her damp neck and shoulders, the ponytail now hanging by a thread.

"Fucking hell, you're deep," she gasps, her internal muscles clenching around you as she adjusts to your size. "Shit, shit, shit."

You feel Karina's mouth on your balls, her tongue lavishing attention on the sensitive skin while Ningning continues to ride you. Her lips are impossibly soft, contrasting with the occasional graze of teeth that makes your hips buck involuntarily. She sucks one into her mouth, the wet heat surrounding you from below as Ningning envelops you from above.

The dual sensation—Ningning's tight heat surrounding your cock, Karina's wet mouth on your balls—creates a pleasure so intense you have to grit your teeth to maintain control. Your hands tighten on Ningning's ass, fingers dipping between the cheeks, exploring every inch of her.

"Look at you," Karina murmurs against your skin, her breath hot and teasing. "Already about to bust for her. Your balls are so tight."

She's not wrong—your entire body is wound like a spring, tension building with each drop of Ningning's hips, each swipe of Karina's tongue. You can feel the pressure building at the base of your spine, your thighs tensing with the effort of holding back.

Her observation spurs you to reassert control. You tangle one hand in Ningning's hair, finding the loose ponytail and wrapping it around your fist before yanking her head back sharply, exposing the elegant line of her throat. The remaining hair tie snaps, releasing a cascade of dark waves that fall around her shoulders. She gasps, her pussy clenching around you in response, her rhythm faltering momentarily.

"Fuck, I love when you pull my hair," she moans, her pace increasing, taking you deeper with each drop of her hips. Her nails dig into your chest, leaving crescent-shaped marks that sting deliciously, adding tiny crescents of pain to the overwhelming pleasure.

You pull her down to crush your mouth against hers, swallowing her moans as you thrust up to meet her movements. Her lips are swollen from earlier kisses, softer now, yielding to your assault. You taste yourself on her tongue, mixed with her own unique flavor and the lingering sweetness of the Slurpee from earlier. The combination is intoxicating.

Your free hand slides up her sweat-slicked back, feeling each vertebra, each ripple of muscle beneath her skin. You trace the definition of her shoulder blades, the delicate curve of her spine, the subtle dimples at her lower back. Her body is a masterpiece of lean muscle and subtle curves, honed by years of dance but still undeniably feminine.

Karina's not content to be forgotten. She moves from your balls to nip at Ningning's thighs, leaving small red marks that make Ningning jerk and gasp above you. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin where thigh meets ass, leaving a trail of light bruises that will remind Ningning of this moment for days to come.

Then she presses her tongue flat against the place where your bodies join, tasting both of you with each of Ningning's movements. The added stimulation makes Ningning shudder, her inner walls fluttering around you. Karina's tongue slides up to tease Ningning's asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle before dipping back down to where you're connected.

"Oh god," Ningning whimpers, the added stimulation nearly pushing her over the edge. Her movements become erratic, desperate, her inner walls fluttering around your length in warning.

You can feel how close she is—her thighs trembling against yours, her breathing shallow and rapid, her pussy contracting in those telltale rhythmic pulses that signal impending orgasm. Her eyes are unfocused, lips parted, a flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck to her chest.

Not yet. I'm finally in control here, and I'm not letting it end this fast.

You're not ready to let her finish yet. With a sudden burst of strength, you lift her off you entirely, eliciting a cry of protest that cuts off when you manhandle her to the side, practically throwing her onto the mattress beside you.

Her body bounces slightly with the impact, her hair splaying across the sheets like dark ink, chest heaving with exertion and denied release. Her skin is flushed pink, nipples tight peaks begging for attention, thighs still spread with the memory of having you between them. A thin sheen of sweat makes her entire body glisten, highlighting every curve, every muscle, every dip and hollow of her dancer's physique.

"My turn with Karina," you state, your voice rough with arousal but commanding enough that neither questions you.

Karina's eyes darken with desire as she moves to take Ningning's place, but you stop her with a hand on her shoulder. Her skin is hot to the touch, slightly damp with exertion, surprisingly soft despite the toned muscle beneath. You can feel her pulse racing beneath your palm.

"Get your ass up here," you direct, indicating your face. "Wanna taste you while you ride me."

Her breath catches, pupils dilating until her eyes are nearly black, a fresh wave of arousal evident in the way she presses her thighs together momentarily. She complies immediately, positioning herself over your face, facing your feet, while reaching back to guide your cock into her waiting heat.

The position allows you full access to her pussy with your mouth while she controls the depth and pace of penetration. The view is spectacular—her round ass hovering above your face, her slick, swollen pussy lips parted and ready, the perfect curve of her spine leading up to her platinum hair cascading down her back.

As she sinks down onto your length, you grip her hips, pulling her core against your mouth simultaneously, your tongue finding her clit with unerring precision. The taste of her explodes across your tongue—tangy, sweet, with an underlying muskiness that's uniquely hers, different from Ningning's flavor but equally intoxicating.

She cries out, her body jerking at the dual penetration, her inner walls clenching around you. You feel her thighs trembling on either side of your head, her weight shifting as she struggles to maintain balance in the face of such intense stimulation.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she chants, beginning to move on your cock while grinding against your mouth.

Where Ningning rode you with wild abandon, Karina's movements are calculated, controlled—each roll of her hips designed for maximum pleasure, each contraction of her inner muscles deliberate and devastating. She knows exactly how to angle herself to take you deepest, how to twist to hit her most sensitive spots, how to clench around you to create the perfect pressure.

Your hands roam her body, one gripping her hip to guide her movements, the other sliding up her sweat-slicked torso to find her breast. It fills your palm perfectly, heavier than Ningning's, the nipple stiff against your skin. You pinch it between your fingers, rolling it, tugging slightly, feeling her inner walls contract around your cock in response.

Your tongue works her clit relentlessly, circling the swollen bud before flattening against it, applying perfect pressure as she grinds down. Her taste becomes more intense as her arousal builds, her wetness coating your chin, dripping down your neck. You trace her entrance with your tongue, feeling where your cock stretches her, the tight ring of muscle yielding to your thickness.

That's the difference between them—Ningning all passion, Karina all precision. Both fucking incredible in completely different ways.

Ningning watches for a moment, her chest heaving, before moving to participate again. She positions herself beside your head, leaning down to whisper in your ear, her voice husky with arousal. Her breath is hot against your skin, her lips brushing your earlobe with each word, sending shivers down your spine.

"She thinks she can take you better than me," she murmurs, her hand trailing down to massage your balls as Karina continues to ride you. Her fingers are cool against your heated skin, gentle yet firm as they cup and roll, occasionally dipping lower to feel where you stretch Karina open. "But I had you deeper. I felt you throbbing inside me."

Karina hears her and responds with a particularly skillful twist of her hips that makes you groan against her flesh. The movement changes the angle, taking you impossibly deeper, her inner walls rippling along your length in a way that makes your toes curl.

"He's rock hard inside me," she shoots back, looking over her shoulder at Ningning with a triumphant smirk. Her platinum hair sticks to her sweat-dampened back in places, strands darkened by moisture. "Like, literally throbbing."

Their competitive banter continues as they trade positions again, this time with Ningning straddling you in reverse, her back to your chest. The view is spectacular—the elegant line of her spine, the subtle dimples at the small of her back, the perfect curve of her ass as she positions herself over your cock once more.

She sinks down slowly this time, savoring each inch as you fill her, her head falling back against your shoulder with a gasp when you're fully seated. Her hair, now completely free from its ponytail, spills all around you, tickling your chest, your neck, your face—dark, silky strands that smell faintly of coconut shampoo and her own unique scent.

Karina kneels beside you, her mouth finding your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with her tongue. The contrast of her platinum hair against your skin is stark, beautiful, the strands sticking to your sweat-dampened chest as she moves.

You grip Ningning's hips, guiding her movements as she rides you with increasing urgency, her head falling back against your shoulder. Your hands slide up her torso, feeling the taut muscles of her stomach contract with each movement, the delicate ribs beneath her soft skin, before finding her small, perfect breasts.

They fit perfectly in your palms, the perfect handful, nipples stiff against your fingers. You pinch them lightly, rolling them between your fingers, feeling her pussy clench around you in response. Your mouth finds the side of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark that will be visible for days.

"Fuck, the way you fill me," she gasps, her hand reaching back to tangle in your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss over her shoulder. The angle is awkward but intensely erotic, her tongue sliding against yours as she continues to move on your cock.

Her body is a furnace against yours, heat radiating from every inch of her skin, her sweat mingling with yours where your chests press together. You can feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, her pulse fluttering beneath your lips when you break the kiss to suck at the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

Karina's hand slips between Ningning's legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles that make Ningning's rhythm stutter. "Let me help you," she offers, her voice innocent but her eyes calculating as she watches Ningning respond to her touch.

It's not cooperation so much as an extension of their competition—each trying to prove they can give and receive pleasure better than the other. Still, the effect is the same: Ningning moaning loudly as Karina's fingers work her clit, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your length.

They might be competing, but holy shit does it work in my favor.

You break the kiss to watch them, fascinated by the shifting dynamic. Karina leans forward to capture Ningning's mouth in a passionate kiss, swallowing her increasingly desperate moans while continuing to work her clit. Their tongues visibly slide against each other, the kiss open-mouthed and filthy, a performance as much for your benefit as for their own pleasure.

Your hands slide to Ningning's ass, spreading her cheeks, feeling where your cock disappears into her tight heat. The visual of them kissing while Ningning rides you, Karina's fingers visible between her legs, is almost enough to push you over the edge.

Sweat drips down your temple, your chest, your back—every inch of you is damp with exertion, muscles burning with the effort of maintaining control. The room smells of sex now, the sweet musk of their arousal mixed with sweat and the faint coconut of Ningning's shampoo creating an intoxicating blend that fills your lungs with each ragged breath.

"Switch," you command, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your orgasm. "Karina on my cock, Ningning on my face."

They separate reluctantly, exchanging a look that speaks volumes before repositioning themselves according to your instructions. The brief moment it takes them to adjust gives you a chance to regain some control, your breathing ragged, your cock throbbing painfully with need.

Karina sinks down onto you with a satisfied sigh, her pussy still incredibly tight despite how wet she is. Ningning straddles your face, her thighs bracketing your head, her scent intoxicating as you pull her down onto your waiting tongue.

What happens next is the most seamless teamwork you've seen from them so far. Karina leans forward to kiss Ningning deeply, their breasts pressing together as they move in synchronized rhythm—Karina riding your cock with deliberate precision, Ningning grinding against your tongue with increasing desperation.

Their hands explore each other's bodies, pinching nipples, tangling in hair, tracing curves with obvious familiarity. It's clear this isn't the first time they've touched each other this way, but the addition of you between them brings a new intensity to their interactions.

They work together now, their earlier competition forgotten in favor of a united goal: pushing you past the point of control. Karina's inner muscles contract around you in waves, milking your length with expert precision. Ningning grinds against your tongue with shameless abandon, her wetness coating your chin, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.

"Fuck, he's gonna cum," Karina observes, feeling your cock swell and pulse inside her. "I can feel it."

The sensation is overwhelming—Karina's pussy gripping your cock like a vise, her inner walls rippling along your length with practiced control, while Ningning floods your mouth with her arousal, her taste growing stronger as she gets closer to her own release. You feel the familiar tightening at the base of your spine, the tension building in your balls, the telltale throb of impending orgasm.

Ningning looks down at you between her legs, her eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," she says, both to you and Karina. "We're not done with him."

They exchange another look, some silent communication passing between them, before they both lift off you simultaneously. The sudden loss of stimulation makes you groan in frustration, your cock twitching in the cool air, your mouth still chasing Ningning's retreating heat.

"What the fuck," you hiss, your voice rough with need.

Are they seriously edging me right now? After I was finally about to—

They smile at your frustration, identical expressions of satisfied mischief on their flushed faces. The power dynamic shifts again as they move to position themselves on either side of you, their hands trailing teasingly across your sweat-slicked skin.

Your body is hypersensitive now, every touch amplified tenfold. Karina's fingers along your ribs feel like fire, Ningning's breath against your neck like a physical caress. Your cock stands proudly between you, harder than it's ever been, the head swollen and purple, veins prominent against the shaft, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

"We told you," Karina purrs, her fingers wrapping loosely around your aching cock, not providing nearly enough pressure. The touch is maddening—just enough to keep you on edge, not enough to provide relief. Her platinum hair falls across your chest as she leans over you, a few strands sticking to your sweat-dampened skin. "We're not done yet."

"You'll cum when we say," Ningning adds, her tongue darting out to flick across your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Her dark eyes hold yours as she does it again, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with her tongue. The contrast of sharp pain and soft pleasure makes your cock jerk in Karina's loose grip.

Your earlier dominance wavers in the face of their united assault, but you're not ready to surrender control completely. With a growl, you reach out, one hand tangling in Karina's platinum hair, the other gripping Ningning's hip hard enough to leave marks.

You feel the damp heat of Karina's scalp as you fist her hair, the moisture from her exertion making the strands cling to your fingers. On Ningning's hip, your fingers dig into the subtle curve, feeling the contrast of soft skin over firm muscle. Your grip is possessive, commanding, a clear statement that this power struggle isn't over yet.

"No," you state firmly, pulling Karina's face close to yours. Her platinum hair falls around you both like a curtain, individual strands clinging to the sweat on your face and neck. You can smell her shampoo—something expensive and floral—mixed with the musk of sex and the salt of her sweat. "I decide when this ends."

The authority in your voice makes both of them freeze, their eyes widening in surprise before darkening with renewed arousal. Karina's pupils dilate so completely her eyes look almost black, while Ningning's lips part on a shaky exhale.

"Yes, sir," Karina whispers, the unexpected honorific sending a shock of pleasure through your system. The word falls from her swollen lips with surprising naturalness, as if she's been waiting for the opportunity to say it.

Sir? Oh fuck, that's hot coming from her mouth.

Ningning nods her agreement, suddenly docile under your grip. "Whatever you want," she adds, her voice softer than you've heard it all day. The contrast between her usual sharp-tongued confidence and this new, yielding tone makes your cock throb painfully between you.

The surrender in their responses ignites something primal within you. You pull Karina into a bruising kiss, your teeth catching her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper. Her mouth opens immediately under yours, tongue sliding against yours in eager submission. Her platinum hair tangles around your fingers as you hold her in place, controlling the angle, the pressure, the depth of the kiss.

When you release her, her lips are even more swollen than before, a tiny drop of blood where your teeth caught her too hard. The sight of it—evidence of your intensity—makes something dark and satisfied unfurl in your chest.

You turn to Ningning, claiming her mouth with equal ferocity, your tongue pushing past her lips in a clear mimicry of what your cock has been doing to both of them. She yields immediately, moaning into the kiss, her small hand coming up to grip your bicep, feeling the muscle flex under her fingers.

The taste of them mingles on your tongue—Karina's cherry-sweetness, Ningning's slightly spicier flavor, both layered with the salt of sweat and the unique taste of their arousal from when they rode your face. The combination is intoxicating, driving you to deepen the kiss, to take more, to claim her completely.

You break the kiss, looking at them both with undisguised hunger. Their faces are flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with desire. Sweat makes their skin gleam in the fading afternoon light, highlighting the contours of their bodies—the swell of Karina's breasts, the elegant line of Ningning's collarbones, the defined muscles in both their stomachs from years of dance.

"Get on your backs," you command. "Side by side. Now."

They scramble to comply, positioning themselves as instructed, their earlier bratty competition replaced by eager compliance. They lie beside each other, legs spread, bodies on display for your approval. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's fuller curves and platinum hair against Ningning's more delicate frame and dark waves.

Both are covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their skin flushed pink with exertion and arousal. Ningning's small breasts rise and fall with her rapid breathing, the subtle definition in her stomach more visible now as she lies flat. Karina's fuller curves create shadows and valleys across her body, her platinum hair spread out across the pillow like spilled moonlight.

You move to kneel between them, looking down at the feast before you—Karina with her full breasts and perfectly waxed pussy, Ningning with her smaller, perkier breasts and neatly trimmed landing strip. Both of them flushed, breathing heavily, watching you with identical expressions of desperate need.

Your own body bears the marks of your encounter—small crescent-shaped indents from their nails, light bruises forming where their mouths have been too eager, sweat dripping down your chest and back. Your cock stands painfully erect between you, harder than you've ever been, throbbing with each heartbeat.

"Now," you say, your voice calm despite the fire raging through your veins, "let's see which one of you can take me better."

They exchange a glance—half challenge, half solidarity—before turning their attention back to you, waiting for whatever comes next.

I've got the two baddest dancers at school spread out for me. Bio test be damned—this is worth getting benched for.

And what comes next will test all three of you to your limits.

You move between them, your body radiating heat, muscles tense with anticipation. Your hand trails up Ningning's inner thigh, feeling her tremble beneath your touch, while you lean down to capture Karina's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"I want it first," Ningning demands, her voice a mixture of need and command. Her slender fingers wrap around your wrist, trying to guide your hand higher between her legs. The desperation in her tone sends a fresh surge of arousal through you.

Karina breaks the kiss, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. "Make him choose," she challenges, her eyes locked on Ningning's, then flicking back to yours. "Let's see who he really wants."

Jesus, even now they're competing. And I'm supposed to pick?

You pull back slightly, looking between them—both flushed, panting, their bodies on display just for you. An idea forms, something that will satisfy them both while maintaining your newfound control.

"I choose both," you state, your voice leaving no room for argument. "But I'm calling the shots."

Without warning, you move over Ningning, positioning yourself at her entrance. She's so wet you can see it glistening on her inner thighs, pooling slightly beneath her on the sheets. The head of your cock slides through her folds, gathering her arousal, the contact drawing a whimper from both of you.

When you finally push inside, the wet sound is obscene – a lewd squelch that echoes in the room, matching Ningning's sharp gasp as you stretch her open.

"Fuck, you're splitting me in half," she cries out, her back arching off the bed, small breasts pointing upward as you fill her completely. Her inner walls clamp down around you like a silken vise, rippling with involuntary spasms that nearly end you on the spot.

The sensation of her tight heat surrounding you again nearly makes your vision go white, but you hold on to your control by a thread, fingernails digging into your own palms as you fight the urge to come immediately.

You don't give her time to adjust, setting a brutal pace immediately, each thrust punctuated by the wet sound of her arousal and the sharp slap of your hips against the backs of her thighs. Her legs wrap around your waist instinctively, heels digging into your lower back, urging you deeper.

"God, don't stop," she gasps, each word punched out of her with your thrusts. Her hair splays across the pillow in dark waves, sticking to her sweat-slicked temples and cheeks. There's something almost painful in her expression as she takes you, a mixture of pleasure so intense it borders on agony.

You shift your angle, driving deeper, searching for that spot inside her that will make her fall apart. When your cock brushes against it, her reaction is immediate – her entire body seizes, back arching further, a broken sound torn from her throat.

"There! Right there!" she sobs, eyes wide and glassy, unfocused with pleasure. "Oh god, I'm gonna—"

But you haven't forgotten Karina. Your hand finds her core, two fingers sliding easily into her wet heat, thumb circling her clit with deliberate pressure. She gasps at the contact, hips bucking up to meet your hand.

"I need more than fingers," she demands, voice cracking with need as she watches you pound into Ningning. "She's hogging you."

You lean down, capturing one of Ningning's nipples between your teeth as you continue thrusting, the dual sensation making her cry out louder. The taste of her sweat-slicked skin is addictive – salt and something uniquely her that makes you want to lick every inch of her body.

Your fingers pick up speed inside Karina, curved perfectly to hit her g-spot while your thumb continues its assault on her clit. Her hips rise to meet each thrust of your hand, grinding against your palm, seeking more friction.

"I can feel how wet you are," you tell Karina, voice rough with exertion as you continue pounding into Ningning. "Soaked through. All for me."

Sweat pours down your back, drips from your forehead onto Ningning's chest, mingling with the perspiration already coating her skin. It slides between her small breasts, pooling in the hollow of her throat. Impulsively, you lean down to lick it away, tasting the salt on your tongue, feeling her pulse hammering beneath your lips.

The room fills with the sounds of your collective panting, moaning, the wet slap of flesh, the squelch of your fingers in Karina's pussy, the creak of the bed frame protesting your vigorous movements. The air is thick with the scent of sex – musky, primal, intoxicating.

Ningning's nails rake down your back, leaving burning trails that sting deliciously. Her inner walls flutter around you, signaling her approaching orgasm. Her eyes, which have been locked on yours, suddenly squeeze shut, brows drawing together in intense concentration.

"I can't—it's too—" she gasps, words failing her as pleasure overtakes her ability to form coherent thoughts.

You pull out suddenly, leaving her empty and gasping, hovering right at the edge of release. Before she can protest, you shift to Karina, removing your fingers from inside her only to replace them with your cock in one swift movement.

"Finally," Karina gasps, body arching up to meet your thrust. Her pussy welcomes you with a gush of wetness, the lewd sound filling the room as you bottom out inside her. She's different from Ningning—slightly less tight but wetter, hotter, inner walls undulating around your length in deliberate pulses that suggest years of practice.

Her legs immediately wrap around your waist, ankles crossing at the small of your back, pulling you deeper. The change in sensation is mind-bending – from Ningning's tight grip to Karina's silky heat, both equally devastating to your self-control.

Now it's Ningning's turn to receive your fingers, sliding easily into her abandoned pussy, still stretched from your cock and dripping with arousal. You find her g-spot with unerring accuracy, applying firm pressure that has her keening, back arching off the bed.

"No fair," she whimpers, eyes glassy with frustrated tears. "I was so close."

"You'll get your turn again," you promise, voice barely recognizable through your labored breathing. "Want to make it last."

You lean down to kiss Karina as you thrust into her, swallowing her moans. Her mouth is voracious against yours, tongue tangling with yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip. One of her hands tangles in your hair, pulling hard enough to send sparks of pain-pleasure down your spine.

"Feel how fucking wet I am for you?" she pants against your lips, inner muscles clenching deliberately around your length. "Been thinking about this since I first saw you in homeroom."

The confession, unexpected and raw, sends a fresh surge of arousal through you. Your hips stutter in their rhythm before driving deeper, harder, drawing a choked cry from her throat.

Beside you, Ningning grows impatient with just your fingers. She rises to her knees, moving closer until she can press her body against your side. Her small breasts brush against your arm, nipples hard points of contact that make your skin tingle.

"Let me help," she murmurs, surprising you as her hand slides down to where you're joined with Karina. Her slender fingers find Karina's clit, circling it with a practiced touch that suggests this isn't the first time she's touched her friend this way.

Karina's reaction is immediate – a sharp gasp, inner walls clenching around you, back arching to press her breasts up toward you. Her platinum hair fans out across the pillow, damp strands sticking to her flushed face and neck.

"Fuck, Ning," she breathes, using a nickname you've never heard before. "Just like that."

The sight of Ningning's darker fingers against Karina's pale flesh, the contrast of their skin tones as they work together to maximize pleasure, is possibly the hottest thing you've ever seen. Your cock throbs inside Karina at the visual, drawing a knowing smile from both girls.

"You like watching us together, don't you?" Karina purrs, voice thick with satisfaction. "Been playing with each other since sophomore year. Wondering when we'd find someone worth sharing."

The casual revelation sends your mind reeling, imagination filling with images of them together – Karina's head between Ningning's thighs, Ningning's fingers buried inside Karina, their bodies entwined in countless configurations.

Holy shit, this is actually happening.

You increase your pace, pounding into Karina with renewed vigor while maintaining the curl of your fingers inside Ningning. The awkward angle strains your wrist but the dual sensation of both their bodies clenching around different parts of you is worth any discomfort.

Suddenly, you withdraw from Karina, her disappointed whine cutting off as you move down her body. Your tongue finds her clit, sucking the swollen bud between your lips while three fingers thrust into her soaked entrance. She tastes incredible – tangy, sweet, with an underlying musk that's uniquely hers.

"Oh my GOD," she cries out, thighs immediately clamping around your head, one hand fisting in your hair to hold you in place. "Right there, don't you dare fucking stop!"

Your free hand continues working inside Ningning, her wetness covering your fingers, dripping down your wrist. The position is challenging but the sound of both girls moaning, their bodies writhing on either side of you, spurs you to push through the discomfort.

"His tongue," Karina gasps to Ningning, eyes wild, pupils blown wide. "You have no idea."

Instead of responding with words, Ningning leans down to capture one of Karina's nipples in her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. The unexpected cooperation between them – Ningning pleasuring Karina while you work between her legs – creates a tableau of feminine beauty that's almost artful in its eroticism.

You alternate between them, mouth moving from Karina to Ningning, fingers filling whoever doesn't have your tongue, never letting either girl get too close to the edge before switching again. Their frustration builds with each denial, whimpers turning to pleas, then to demands.

"Please," Ningning begs, voice cracking, a tear escaping the corner of her eye to disappear into her hairline. "I need to come so bad it hurts."

"Let her finish," Karina surprises you by saying, her own voice shaky with need. "Want to watch her fall apart on your cock."

The request – so unlike her earlier competitive attitude – makes your decision for you. You move up Ningning's body, positioning yourself at her entrance once more. She's so wet now that you slide in effortlessly, her body accepting you with a soft squelch that should be embarrassing but is just incredibly hot.

"Yes," she hisses, hands immediately finding purchase on your shoulders, nails digging in. "Fuck me like you mean it."

You comply, setting a relentless pace that has the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Her small body takes everything you give her, inner walls gripping you like a vise, fluttering with the beginning of her orgasm.

"Look at me," you command, one hand moving to cup her jaw, forcing her gaze to meet yours. "Want to see your eyes when you come."

Her gaze locks with yours, dark irises nearly swallowed by dilated pupils. There's something raw and vulnerable in her expression that contrasts sharply with her usual guarded demeanor. A single tear tracks down her temple, disappearing into her hairline—overwhelmed by sensation, by the intensity of feeling you so deep inside her.

You grip her small, firm breast in one hand, thumb brushing over the hardened nipple, while your other hand finds her throat. Not squeezing, just resting there, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm. The gesture is possessive, dominant, and her response is immediate—pupils dilating further, inner walls clenching around you.

"Going to come," she warns, voice thin and reedy, barely audible over the sound of your bodies meeting. "Don't stop, don't stop, please don't—"

Her words dissolve into a high-pitched keen as her orgasm crashes through her. Her pussy spasms around you in powerful waves, each contraction stronger than the last, milking your length with incredible strength. Her entire body goes rigid beneath you, back arched so dramatically only her head and hips remain on the mattress.

The sight of her coming undone – face contorted in ecstasy, throat working as she gasps for air, body surrendered completely to pleasure – burns itself into your memory with crystal clarity.

You continue thrusting through her orgasm, prolonging it, feeling each aftershock ripple through her overstimulated body. Only when her whimpers take on an edge of discomfort do you finally pull out, your cock glistening with her release, harder than it's ever been, angry red and pulsing with need.

Before you can move, Karina pushes you onto your back with surprising strength, swinging one leg over to straddle you. Her eyes are wild, desperate, platinum hair hanging in damp strands around her flushed face, lips swollen from kisses.

"My turn," she growls, positioning herself above your cock. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

She sinks down onto your length in one fluid motion, taking you to the hilt with a satisfied groan. The wet heat of her pussy surrounds you, different from Ningning's but equally intoxicating. Where Ningning was all tight, gripping heat, Karina is velvet smoothness with deliberate control, her inner muscles rippling along your length in waves that suggest she's done her Kegels religiously.

"So fucking thick," she gasps, beginning to ride you with the perfect combination of speed and pressure. Her larger breasts bounce with each movement, nipples stiff peaks begging for attention. You reach up to cup them, feeling their weight in your palms, thumbs brushing over the sensitive tips.

She leans forward, changing the angle, her platinum hair falling around your faces like a curtain. The new position has the head of your cock dragging against her front wall with each movement, hitting that spot that makes her thighs tremble.

"Right there," she breathes against your lips, not quite kissing you, just sharing breath. "Can feel you so deep like this."

Ningning, still trembling from her recent orgasm, moves to join you. She positions herself beside you, her small hand sliding down your chest, over your stomach, to where you and Karina are joined. Her fingers find Karina's clit, circling it with practiced ease while her mouth finds your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak.

The dual sensation – Ningning's mouth on your chest, Karina's pussy gripping your cock, the visual of both girls working together to maximize pleasure – sends jolts of electricity down your spine, coiling at the base, threatening to push you over the edge embarrassingly quickly.

"Not yet," Karina commands, reading your expression with unsettling accuracy. She slows her movements, rising until just the head of your cock remains inside her before sinking back down with agonizing slowness. "Want this to last."

Ningning shifts positions, moving behind Karina now, her small hands reaching around to cup Karina's breasts, taking over where your hands just were. The visual is incredible – Ningning's darker skin against Karina's paleness, her delicate fingers pinching Karina's nipples as she continues to ride you.

Karina's head falls back against Ningning's shoulder, throat exposed, eyes closed in concentration as she chases her pleasure. Her inner walls flutter around your length, the beginning of what promises to be an intense orgasm.

"She's close," Ningning murmurs, looking down at you with dark eyes, her chin resting on Karina's shoulder. One of her hands slides down Karina's stomach to find her clit again, rubbing in tight circles as Karina continues to ride you with increasing urgency. "Can feel how tight she's getting."

The sight of them together – Karina bouncing on your cock while Ningning touches her from behind – combined with the incredible sensation of Karina's pussy gripping you like a silken vise, brings you dangerously close to the edge again. Your balls tighten painfully, pressure building at the base of your spine, every muscle in your body tensing with impending release.

"Gonna come inside you," you warn, voice tight with the effort of holding back. "Can't wait any longer."

"Yes," Karina hisses, movements becoming more erratic as her own orgasm approaches. "Fill me up. Want to feel it."

Her platinum hair sticks to her sweat-slicked back, strands darkened by moisture. Beads of sweat roll down between her breasts, along her stomach, glistening in the fading light. The scent of sex fills the room – musky, primal, intoxicating – mingling with the faint coconut of Ningning's shampoo and the cherry sweetness of Karina's lip gloss.

Behind her, Ningning continues her ministrations, one hand on Karina's clit, the other reaching down to cup your balls, feeling their tightness, the way they draw up close to your body as you approach your peak.

"He's about to explode," Ningning announces, voice husky with renewed arousal despite her recent orgasm. Her fingers massage your balls gently, adding another layer of sensation that pushes you closer to the brink. "Can feel how tight they are."

Karina's movements become more deliberate, grinding down on each downstroke, creating a corkscrew motion that has the head of your cock hitting every sensitive spot inside her. Her inner walls flutter around your length, the telltale beginning of her orgasm.

"Don't stop," she gasps, eyes locking with yours, pupils so dilated her blue eyes look almost black. "Please, I'm so close, I'm right there—"

Her words cut off as her orgasm hits, body going rigid above you, thighs clamping down on your hips with bruising force. Her pussy contracts around you in powerful waves, each pulse threatening to pull your own release from you. Her face contorts in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream, a single tear tracking down her flushed cheek as the intensity overwhelms her.

The visual of Karina coming undone above you – head thrown back against Ningning's shoulder, throat working as she tries to breathe through the pleasure, body trembling with the force of her release – combined with the rippling contractions of her pussy around your cock, finally shatters your control.

You grip her hips hard enough to leave bruises, fingertips digging into the soft flesh as you thrust up into her spasming heat. The first pulse of your orgasm hits with such intensity that your vision whites out momentarily, pleasure radiating from your core outward until every nerve ending is alight with sensation.

"Fuck, I'm coming," you growl, the words torn from your throat as you empty yourself inside her in hot, powerful spurts. Each pulse seems stronger than the last, your entire body seized in the grip of the most intense orgasm of your life. Your hips buck uncontrollably, driving deeper, prolonging the pleasure for both of you as her inner walls continue to milk every last drop from you.

Karina collapses forward onto your chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks. Her skin sticks to yours with sweat, her breathing ragged against your neck. Behind her, Ningning strokes her back gently, fingertips tracing the knobs of her spine with surprising tenderness.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the room are your collective breathing, gradually slowing as your heart rates return to something approaching normal. The scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, mingled with sweat and the faint traces of their different perfumes – Karina's expensive floral scent, Ningning's lighter coconut notes, both now thoroughly blended with the musk of shared pleasure.

Eventually, Karina shifts, wincing slightly as she lifts herself off your softening cock. A mixture of your release and her own arousal follows, dripping onto your stomach in a lewd display that somehow still manages to send a weak throb of interest through your spent cock.

She collapses beside you, one arm thrown across her eyes, chest still rising and falling with slightly labored breaths. Ningning moves to your other side, curling against you like a satisfied cat, her small hand coming to rest possessively on your chest.

The three of you lie there in sweat-soaked, satisfied silence, the reality of what just happened slowly sinking in as your brain begins to function again. Your body feels simultaneously weightless and heavy, every muscle pleasantly exhausted, skin hypersensitive as you come down from the most intense experience of your life.

Ningning's fingers trace lazy patterns across your chest, occasionally circling a nipple, making you twitch despite your complete exhaustion. Her head rests in the crook of your shoulder, damp hair tickling your skin. You can feel her heartbeat gradually slowing where her small breasts press against your side.

Karina reaches for your free hand, intertwining her fingers with yours in a gesture that feels surprisingly intimate after everything you've just done. Her thumb strokes the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, sending tiny shivers up your arm.

"So much better than bio class," she murmurs, voice still slightly hoarse from all her moaning. "Worth missing that test for sure."

You laugh, the sound pulling from deep in your chest. "Coach is gonna kill me when I get benched, but yeah... definitely worth it."

Ningning lifts her head to look at you, dark eyes still soft with lingering pleasure. She leans in to place a gentle kiss on your lips – so different from the desperate, hungry kisses you shared earlier. This one is almost sweet, her lips soft and yielding against yours.

When she pulls back, Karina immediately takes her place, claiming her own kiss. Her style is different – a little deeper, her tongue briefly tracing your lower lip before she pulls away with a small nip that makes you gasp.

"We should make this a regular thing," Karina suggests, trying to sound casual despite the hint of eagerness in her voice. Her fingers continue their gentle exploration, trailing down your stomach now, circling your navel, deliberately avoiding your spent cock.

"Mmm," Ningning agrees, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Next time I go first though." The competitive edge is back in her voice, though softer now, wrapped in playfulness rather than genuine rivalry.

You find yourself laughing again, equal parts disbelief and delight. "There's going to be a next time?"

"Duh," they say in unison, then exchange a look and burst into giggles.

Karina props herself up on one elbow, pushing damp platinum strands behind her ear. With her makeup smudged and her hair a mess, she looks younger somehow, more like the girl who sits behind you in English rather than the untouchable dance team captain.

"I wonder if Yujin would want to join us sometime," she muses, glancing at both of you. "Now that I know about your little secret hookup."

Your face heats up at the mention of what you thought was your private encounter. "You think she'd be into this?"

Ningning shakes her head slightly. "She kept that whole thing with you totally quiet. Didn't even tell us, and we tell each other everything." She shoots a meaningful look at Karina. "She might not be into sharing."

"Maybe," Karina concedes with a thoughtful expression. "But I've seen how she looks at Ningning during practice."

Ningning rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "Whatever."

"And I'm still determined to finish what Chaewon started with you at Jackson's party," Karina continues, poking Ningning's side playfully. "Before she chickened out."

"She didn't chicken out, she just got weird about it," Ningning protests, but there's a wistful quality to her voice. "Said she wasn't ready or something."

"Trust me," Karina says confidently, "if she saw what I just saw, she'd definitely be ready. We just need to ease her into it."

Your eyes widen at the casual way they're discussing expanding this... whatever this is. Your cock gives a valiant twitch despite being completely spent, drawing knowing smirks from both girls.

"Look at that," Karina teases, glancing down at your slight movement. "Someone likes the idea."

"Don't break him," Ningning warns, reaching across you to flick Karina's arm lightly. "We need him functional for next time."

Karina catches Ningning's hand, bringing it to her lips for a quick kiss before releasing it. The gesture speaks to a depth of connection between them that goes beyond the competitive dynamic you've witnessed so far.

"So what do you say?" Karina asks, blue eyes fixed on yours, one eyebrow raised in challenge. "Ready to be our regular class-skipping buddy?"

"With benefits," Ningning adds with a suggestive smile, her hand drifting dangerously close to your cock again, though it's far too soon for you to respond.

You think about your day just hours ago – boring, predictable, defined by classes and swim meets and the constant pressure to maintain your GPA. Then you look at these two incredible girls curled against you, their bodies warm and soft, offering something you never imagined would be within your reach.

"Bio test was today," you remind yourself aloud, wincing slightly. "I'm definitely getting a zero."

"You can make it up," Karina says with a dismissive wave. "Just tell Mr. Park you were sick or something."

Ningning nods in agreement, her fingers drawing circles on your chest. "No one's gonna believe you'd skip for no reason anyway. You're like, annoyingly responsible."

As they continue chatting, arms draped across your body, heads resting against your shoulders, you find yourself wondering what exactly you've gotten yourself into. The dance team's secret hookup? Their shared boyfriend? The guy lucky enough to be their favorite distraction?

Whatever this is, whatever label might eventually apply, one thing is certain: there's no way you're backing out now.

Bio test be damned, you think, pulling both girls closer as you sink into the comfort of Karina's bed.

This is definitely worth getting benched for.

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[focusonkayjay]

nothing like us | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: enemies to lovers, fake dating, corporate employees! jungkook & reader, angst, fluff

Summary: To help you escape the relentless barrage of blind date requests and the unsettling advances of a creep in the office, your arch-nemesis, Jungkook, boldly declares during a company holiday retreat that you’re in a relationship with him—an audacious statement that couldn’t be further from the truth. Stunned and confused, you’re certain that your rivalry with him is far from anything resembling love. Yet, as the retreat progresses, you start to question whether the "fake" in this "fake relationship" is truly present in the room with you.

Word Count: 26k+

Warnings: mature language, mentions of blood, small injury (lmk if i missed something)

playlist for the vibes <3

cher's notes: hello bbies <3 i firstly want to apologize for not posting these past few days. i've been so undeniably busy with uni and work and i totally didn't get the time to proof read before posting. anyways, i hope you like this new oneshot. it's not my best work but parts of it is inspired by "to all the boys i've loved before". (my fav hot tub scene). anyways let me know if you liked this one. muah <3

You take a sip of coffee in the dimly lit office coffee room, letting the rich aroma soothe your nerves. The quiet hum of the vending machine is the only sound accompanying you, a welcome reprieve from the chaos outside.

It’s been one of those days... emails piling up, back-to-back meetings, and a project deadline looming over your head. This is your sanctuary, a brief moment of peace in the hurricane of corporate monotony.

Your job isn’t terrible, though. It’s a typical corporate gig with all the spreadsheets, presentations, polite nods in meetings, and the occasional office drama. Sure, you’d rather be at home binge-watching your favorite series, but hey, bills don’t pay themselves.

As you savor the quiet, your moment of zen is abruptly interrupted. “Y/N-ahhh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all afternoon!” You almost choke on your coffee at the familiar voice. With a resigned sigh, you turn to face Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee is a middle-aged coworker who’s perpetually cheerful and undoubtedly kind. She’s the type of person who brings in homemade snacks for the whole team and remembers everyone’s birthdays. But she also has a certain... hobby... trying to convince you to go on blind dates.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee.” you greet her politely, though you can already guess what she’s about to say. She clasps her hands together, her smile lighting up the room. “So! Remember how I told you about my nephew who just moved to the city? He’s such a sweet boy, Y/N, and I just know you two would hit it off!”

You suppress a sigh, forcing your features into a polite expression. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Lee, but—”

“Oh, don’t say no just yet! He’s a doctor, you know. Very handsome, tall, comes from a good family... he even volunteers at animal shelters in his free time!” she cuts you off, her smile only getting bigger.

You resist the urge to groan. This isn’t the first time she’s done this. In fact, it’s become a bit of a routine. She genuinely believes you’re some sort of eligible bachelorette in desperate need of matchmaking services. No matter how many times you’ve politely declined in the past, she always finds a way to circle back to it.

“Mrs. Lee...” you begin gently. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Things are just... really busy at work.”

She waves a dismissive hand, undeterred. “Nonsense! You work too hard, Y/N. A nice young man in your life would do wonders for you!” she says. Before you can come up with another excuse, a voice cuts through the room.

“Y/N... Mrs. Lee...” Suho’s head peeks into the coffee room, his usual friendly smile plastered across his face. “Mr. Cho is expecting all of us in the meeting room in five. Says it’s something... important.” he informs.

“Oh, Suho! Thank you, dear!” Mrs. Lee chirps, momentarily distracted. Suho flashes another warm smile before disappearing down the hallway. You silently thank him for the interruption, offering Mrs. Lee a tight-lipped smile as the two of you make your way out of the coffee room. But Mrs. Lee, ever-persistent, continues.

“Y/N, you really shouldn’t let opportunities like this slip by! Life is short, and my nephew really is such a catch—”

She goes on and on and you nod absently, tuning out her words as you walk down the hallway. But then, halfway there, your stomach sinks. Coming from the opposite direction, making his way to the meeting room, is fricking Jeon Jungkook.

Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly recover, your face already settling into an expression of disdain. Jungkook’s sharp eyes sweep across the hallway, landing on you and Mrs. Lee.

Instantly, you see his jaw tighten, and his gaze flickers with something like annoyance before he rolls his eyes in that infuriatingly dismissive way he always does. You’re quick to mirror his reaction, rolling your eyes as if it’s a reflex.

Jeon Jungkook or let's just call him your biggest arch-nemesis in this corporate jungle.

The two of you joined the company around the same time, and from the very beginning, sparks flew... but not the good kind. Where you had opinions, Jungkook had ego. Where he had solutions, you had questions. You were never the type to back down, and he… well, he hated that.

It became an unspoken rule in the office that if there was a debate in the room, it would almost certainly come down to you and Jungkook.

Everyone at work knew about your rivalry. In fact, it was often a good source of entertainment for them. Colleagues would exchange amused glances during meetings, silently placing bets on who would win the latest argument. There were even whispered jokes about how HR should schedule weekly sparring matches so that both of you could get it out of your systems. But as amusing as it might’ve been for them, it was maddening for you.

It wasn’t that Jungkook was bad at his job... in fact, quite the opposite. There was no denying that the two of you were both extremely good at what you did. You were equally hardworking, equally determined to excel. If anything, that was part of the problem. Two strong personalities in one workplace rarely made for smooth collaboration.

The issue was that you and Jungkook barely saw eye to eye on certain matters. Whether it was strategies, execution, or even the smallest logistical details, there was always some point of contention that spiraled into an argument. It was as if the universe had specifically designed your opinions to clash with his.

And then there was his disgustingly unshakable confidence, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes so far back you could see the back of your mind. He carried himself with an air of smug assurance that made every interaction with him feel like a battle, one he always seemed convinced he was winning.

To make matters worse, he was also ridiculously attractive. It annoyed you to no end that someone who drove you up the wall could also make your stomach twist with just a glance.

His sharp jawline, perfectly styled hair, and those dark, piercing eyes seemed designed to undermine your ability to stay focused. And he knew it. Every smirk, every infuriatingly casual lean against your desk felt like he was taunting you, daring you to admit it.

But any time your thoughts veered into that dangerous territory, he’d open his mouth, say something infuriating, and all your annoyance would come rushing back, as strong as ever.

Of course, the office thrived on your interactions. The two of you were practically a live sitcom, providing endless entertainment for your coworkers. But sometimes, things got a little too intense, and someone would have to step in to calm you guys down.

Yet no amount of intervention could completely quash the fire that burned whenever you and Jungkook were in the same room. It wasn’t just rivalry... it was a war of egos, fueled by equal parts frustration and… something neither of you wanted to name.

The hallway feels smaller as the distance between you closes. Jungkook walks with an air of effortless confidence, his light blue dress shirt crisp and clean, the sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at his tattooed forearms. Over it, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater vest that adds a touch of casual sophistication, paired with black trousers. It’s annoyingly polished for someone who thrives on getting under your skin.

His dark hair is pushed back neatly, save for a single stray strand that rebelliously falls across his forehead. Despite his put-together appearance, the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to spark irritation.

Mrs. Lee, oblivious to the silent war brewing between you, continues talking about her nephew.

You can’t help but think Jungkook must enjoy this little rivalry of yours. He certainly doesn’t miss an opportunity to challenge you, whether it’s in meetings, brainstorming sessions, or even during team lunches. You’re pretty sure his smugness comes factory-installed.

As you enter the meeting room, the irritation doesn’t subside. The long rectangular table is surrounded by your coworkers, with Mr. Cho seated at the head. You take a seat, only for Jungkook to take the one directly opposite you.

Great. Just great.

He catches your gaze across the table and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to start something. You don’t take the bait, instead turning your attention to Mr. Cho, whose grin is wider than usual. He clasps his hands together, his eyes sweeping across the room.

“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. This isn’t one of our regular check-ins.” he begins, pausing dramatically for effect. “I wanted to let you know about something exciting… our annual company holiday retreat!!!” he beams.

A murmur of enthusiasm ripples through the room. You take a deep breath, the announcement catching you a bit off guard. This will be your first time attending the retreat, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect.

Mr. Cho continues, his excitement palpable. “This year, we’ve decided to take things up a notch. The retreat will be held for a whole week at the Hanok Mountain Lodge, a luxurious resort nestled in the hills. It’s a stunning location with breathtaking views, cozy cabins, and plenty of activities to help us unwind and bond as a team.”

You glance around and notice your coworkers exchanging thrilled looks. Clearly, this retreat is a highlight for many of them. Mr. Cho goes on, describing the itinerary.

“There will be team-building workshops, outdoor activities like hiking and zip-lining, and of course, plenty of time to relax and enjoy the amenities. There’s also hot tubs, a spa, and for those of you who enjoy it, a private bar lounge. And let’s not forget our tradition... the talent show on the last evening!” He claps his hands together, clearly excited.

You shift in your seat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbling within you. A mountain lodge retreat sounded idyllic, but the idea of spending extended time with Jungkook outside the professional setting wasn’t exactly thrilling.

Hoseok, seated beside you, nudges your arm gently. You glance at him, and his heart shaped smile instantly puts you at ease. “It’s your first time, right?” he asks, his tone soft but teasing. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be a lot of fun. They always plan these things really well.” he says. You smile back with a nod, grateful for the reassurance.

As Mr. Cho wraps up his briefing, your initial apprehension begins to fade, replaced by a tentative excitement. A luxurious mountain lodge retreat does sound like a dream... if you ignore the part where Jungkook would also be there.

It’s the day of the retreat, and the soft hues of dawn paint the sky as the company bus idles at the curb, its engine rumbling like a low purr. The bus is alive with chatter, a mix of excitement and sleepiness as everyone settles into their seats. Conversations flow freely, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of coffee thermoses.

You’re seated midway down the bus, comfortably beside Hoseok. He’s leaning slightly towards you, gesturing animatedly as he talks about the best hiking trails around the lodge. His voice carries a warmth that puts you at ease, and you find yourself nodding along, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you sip your coffee.

The bus door hisses open, and Jungkook steps in, dressed in a casual, perfect combination of a black hoodie and fitted jeans. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he didn’t try but somehow still managed to look effortlessly good. His eyes scan the bus with practiced disinterest, sweeping over rows of coworkers until they suddenly land on you.

You, with your head tilted slightly towards Hoseok, a small laugh escaping as he finishes whatever he's saying. Hoseok's grin is wide as he teases you about something that Jungkook can't hear.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his posture stiffening. The sight is a familiar punch to the gut, a wave of something uncomfortably sharp and consuming. He can’t name it... doesn’t want to name it... but it churns in his stomach like an unwelcome storm. His grip on the strap of his bag tightens.

Every time this happens, he tell himself it's just irritation. After all, it’s not like he cares who you talk to. You’re just his rival, his constant thorn. But deep down, a crack forms in that reasoning, and he’s too stubborn to look any closer.

His gaze flickers away, quick and practiced, like an artist shading over a mistake. He moves down the aisle with a measured stride, ignoring the way his chest feels inexplicably heavy. His long legs carry him past your row, but not before his sharp ears catch the sound of your sweet laugh again. It grates against the knot forming in his chest, pulling tighter with every step.

Jungkook finally drops into a seat two rows behind you, tossing his bag onto the empty seat beside him. He slouches back, his head resting against the cold window. The faint vibrations of the bus barely register as he plugs in his headphones, choosing a random playlist in an effort to drown out his thoughts.

But the music doesn’t help. It doesn’t drown out the sound of your laugh or the way you seemed so at ease with Hoseok. And it certainly doesn’t ease the sting that came with seeing you look at someone else with that kind of attention.

He stares out the window, his reflection faint against the backdrop of the city streets rolling by. He tells himself, whatever he's feeling right now, it’s annoyance, irritation at your loud conversation, frustration at your inability to keep your voice down. But the truth creeps in, unwelcome and undeniable.

It unfortunately isn’t just irritation. It’s something deeper, something he refuses to acknowledge because acknowledging it would mean confronting feelings he’s buried under layers of rivalry and pride.

So he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if that will banish the image of you and Hoseok from his mind. He’ll bury this feeling just like he does everything else, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.

But even as the bus begins to move, carrying everyone towards the retreat, Jungkook’s thoughts stay rooted in the seat two rows ahead of him. And unfortunately, no amount of distraction can change that.

The sprawling mountain lodge looms ahead, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the dark green peaks in the distance. You tug your suitcase behind you, the wheels skidding slightly on the cobblestone path leading into the cozy yet grand lobby.

The warm scent of cedarwood and faint spices greets you as you step inside, though it does little to ease the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders.

You sigh, rubbing your neck while Hoseok approaches the reception desk to sort out room assignments. Your gaze roams the space, marveling at the high ceilings adorned with wooden beams and the crackling fire in the massive stone fireplace. A few coworkers are scattered about, chatting in groups or eagerly collecting their keys.

At least everyone gets their own cabin for the retreat, a luxury you hadn’t expected. The thought brings a small sense of relief since you don’t have to worry about sharing space with anyone. You glance at Hoseok, who’s still sorting through paperwork with the receptionist, and shift your weight impatiently.

Suddenly, someone brushes past you, the sharp bump to your shoulder jolting you slightly off balance. You gasp, turning quickly, ready to unleash a tirade, only to freeze when you see who it is.

Jungkook. Of course.

His bag strap hangs loosely off one shoulder, his free hand gripping the handle of his sleek black suitcase. He doesn’t even look at you at first, his gaze fixed ahead, but the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s done. “Watch where you’re going, jerk.” you snap, glaring at him as you adjust your stance.

Finally, he turns to face you, one brow raised in mock amusement. His dark eyes glint mischievously as he takes a step closer, shrinking the space between you. “Me? Watch where I’m going?” he asks, his voice smooth but laced with condescension. “You’re the one standing in the middle of the way, completely zoned out.” he argues.

Your eyes narrow. “Excuse me for existing.” you bite back, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy stomping around like you own the place, you wouldn’t go around slamming into people.” you add.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly melodic. “Stomping? Dramatic much?” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel personal. “And for the record, if you can’t handle a little nudge, maybe you should stick to your cozy desk back at the office.” he chuckles.

Your glare sharpens, heat rising to your cheeks. “At least I don’t go out of my way to antagonize people every chance I get.” you retort, your tone matching his for intensity. He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Antagonize? That’s a big word for someone so easily rattled.” he grins.

You’re about to respond, the words teetering on the edge of your tongue, when Hoseok's voice cuts through the tension. “Uh, hey.” he says awkwardly, stepping between the two of you with an uncertain smile as he holds out your keycard. “Here’s your key. Sorry for the wait.” he says.

Jungkook steps back, his smirk faltering slightly as his gaze flickers briefly to Hoseok, then back to you. “Thanks, Hobi.” you say, your voice a little too tight as you grab the keycard from his outstretched hand.

He ignores the little pang in his chest and his smirk returns, adjusting his suitcase with an almost lazy confidence. “Enjoy your cabin, princess.” he quips, his tone laced with sarcasm and just enough smugness to make your blood boil. Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and strides off towards the cabins, his retreating figure exuding infuriating nonchalance.

You glare at his back, gripping your keycard so tightly it threatens to snap. “Ugh, I hate him.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration spilling out in a huff.

Hoseok, who’s been quietly observing the exchange, lets out a soft chuckle. “You sure about that?” he teases lightly, reaching down to grab your suitcase. “He seems to get under your skin pretty easily.” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him but don’t bother responding, knowing Hoseok’s teasing will only get worse if you try to deny it. Instead, you let out a long sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the warm, inviting surroundings of the lodge instead of Jungkook’s maddening smirk.

The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the mountain lodge bathed in a soft, dusky glow. The campfire in the center of the lawn crackles gently, sending sparks into the chilly night air.

Since it's the first night of the retreat, everyone is gathered around, wrapped in cozy sweaters and thick blankets, their laughter and conversation blending with the soothing sounds of the wilderness as they all try to free the tiredness from the journey.

You hug yourself tightly, relishing the warmth of your oversized sweater as you make your way towards the group. The flickering firelight dances across familiar faces, and your eyes briefly catch on Jungkook, seated off to the side, his attention fixed on his phone. His sharp profile is illuminated by the glow of the screen, but you quickly brush your gaze away, deciding to ignore him entirely.

Your eyes land on Hoseok, who waves you over with an easy smile and you instantly slip into the seat beside him. “Hey.” he greets warmly, his voice soft but welcoming over the crackle of the fire.

You smile back as you settle into the chair, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “The bathrooms here are insane.” you say, your tone full of genuine awe. “I had the best shower ever. It felt like I was in a spa.”

Hoseok's smile never falters, as the two of slip into an easy conversation. His warm laughter and encouraging nods draw you in, and eventually, the campfire becomes a hub of chatter as everyone around takes turns to share random stories.

The crackling of the fire accompanies the easy flow of conversation, casting a cozy glow that makes the group feel like an extended family.

Suho begins, leaning forward with excitement as he recounts how he met his girlfriend at a concert. "I swear, it was like fate." he breathes out, grinning. "I dropped my ticket, and she picked it up. I thought I’d just thank her, but then we ended up talking the entire show." His story gets a round of amused chuckles and giggles.

Mr. Park dives into tales about his grandchildren. "These kids..." he says, shaking his head fondly. "They're way too smart for their own good. Last week, my grandson hacked into my phone to change my ringtone to a dog barking.... at the grocery store." The image sends everyone into peals of laughter.

Ryunjin jumps in next, sharing her cat’s latest antics. "He’s obsessed with his tail." she says, gesturing wildly. "But the problem is, every time he catches it, he gets mad, like he’s offended it’s attached to his body." Her exaggerated impressions of her cat has everyone laughing until their sides hurt.

As people continue talking, from his spot on the other side of the fire, Jungkook sits quietly. He barely pays attention to what his coworkers are saying because his gaze keeps flickering to you and Hoseok. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, the way you lean towards Hoseok to whisper something into his ear.

The sight twists something uncomfortably tight in Jungkook’s chest, though he stubbornly pushes the feeling aside. Why do I even care? he thinks, his jaw clenching slightly as he forces his attention back to whatever some random coworker is saying.

Yet, no matter how much he tells himself to look away, his eyes betray him. They keep drifting back to you, catching every smile, every laugh, every shared glance with Hoseok. A faint scowl forms on his face, though he tries to mask it.

As the night wears on, it's your turn to narrate a story as you explain a random incident about a hike you went on, way back in high school. "We were climbing this trail that was way steeper than the brochure let on." you say, gesturing animatedly. "And then my friend thought it’d be a great idea to race to the top. Long story short, we all ended up face-planting in the dirt halfway up."

The group laughs, but before you can continue, Mrs. Lee interjects, her voice cutting through the firelit circle like clockwork. “Y/N, dear...” she says with a conspiratorial grin. “All this talk about hikes makes me wonder… are you planning on taking someone special on one anytime soon?” she wiggles her eyebrows.

You freeze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Hoseok stifles a chuckle beside you, leaning closer. “Here we go again.” he whispers.

Everyone’s attention turns to you, their curious eyes waiting for your response. You hate being the center of attention in conversations like this, but you manage to muster a polite smile. “I think I’ll be hiking solo for a while, Mrs. Lee.” you reply lightly, hoping to deflect her matchmaking attempts.

But before the conversation can move on, Minhyuk, a coworker from another team... notorious for his unwelcome advances and unwanted flirtatious attempts to pursue you, jumps in.

“Why solo when I’m right here?” he says, his grin annoyingly smug as he leans forward on his seat. “Y/N, you don’t need blind dates or solo adventures when you’ve got someone like me.” he smirks.

The group chuckles, though the reactions are a mix of genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. You glance at him, trying to suppress an eye-roll. “Thanks, Minhyuk.” you say, your voice tinged with forced politeness. “But I think I’m good.”

Hoseok smirks beside you. “Wow, that’s… subtle.” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. The tension starts to build, the awkwardness settling in like an unwanted guest, but before anyone else can say anything, another voice cuts through the conversation, deep and commanding.

“She doesn’t need you, Minhyuk.” Jungkook suddenly says from across the fire. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes everyone sit up a little straighter. His gaze locks on Minhyuk, his expression unreadable. “Y/N’s already dating someone.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Heads swivel towards Jungkook, then towards you, expressions ranging from amused to utterly shocked. You blink at him, your brain scrambling to process what he just said. You’re dating someone? And you didn’t even know?

A mix of confusion and frustration floods your thoughts as you watch Jungkook from your seat, utterly bewildered. What the hell is he trying to pull?

Mrs. Lee, of course, is the first to recover. She clasps her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh, my! Y/N, is this... is this true? So you won’t be hiking solo after all?” she teases, her tone light, but the curiosity in her gaze is anything but subtle.

Her words snap you out of your daze, and your first instinct is to deny it, to clear up the misunderstanding before things spiral even further. But as your lips part, Jungkook speaks again, his voice calm and steady.

“That’s right.” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. “She’s all set. No blind dates, no solo hikes. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whip your head towards him, your confusion now tinged with annoyance. His expression is maddeningly composed, as if this is all part of some elaborate plan you’re not privy to. He meets your gaze, and for a fleeting second, you catch a glimmer of something... something almost possessive, before it disappears behind his confident facade.

Hoseok shifts beside you, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well...” he says under his breath. “This just got interesting.”

You glare at him briefly before turning back to Jungkook, your brain working overtime to decide whether to play along or call him out. All around you, the group buzzes with low murmurs and playful remarks, the campfire’s warm glow doing little to soothe the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Suho laughs, his tone light, as a few others nod eagerly, their curiosity piqued. All eyes are on you now, and you’re suddenly aware of how small your seat feels in the circle. You open your mouth to speak, to deny the entire thing and set the record straight, but Jungkook beats you to it. Again.

“I really didn’t expect the news to come out like this.” he says smoothly, his voice calm but carrying just enough emotion to sound sincere. His gaze sweeps over the group before landing back on you. “But we’ve been keeping it quiet for a while now.”

The reaction is immediate. A collective murmur ripples through the circle, voices tinged with shock and curiosity. Some are louder than others, people audibly gasping unable to hide the utter shock of this unexpected news.

You blink rapidly, your brain doing cartwheels trying to keep up with what’s happening. Quiet for a while? What is he even talking about? Your confusion turns to frustration, and you turn to Jungkook, but he’s already leaning back in his seat, wearing an expression so convincingly nonchalant that it makes your blood boil.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Minhyuk’s voice cuts through the murmurs, his tone laced with disbelief and annoyance. “Are you telling me Y/N’s been dating you this whole time?” He gestures vaguely towards Jungkook, his irritation barely concealed.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jungkook replies, his voice steady and unbothered, as though the entire conversation is beneath him. He leans back casually, his hand resting on the arm of his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that sound so surprising?”

The group collectively reacts, their wide-eyed expressions bouncing between disbelief and shock. And honestly? Fair, because who would believe it. The only form of interaction anyone’s ever witnessed between the two of you has been laced with sharp rivalry, sarcastic comments and deathly glares.

“The joke’s on us.” Mr. Cho interjects suddenly, his tone tinged with playful regret. “We’re the idiots for thinking they hated each other. All this time, these two lovebirds were up to something totally different.” he says as everyone agrees with him.

Your lips part, indignation rushing to the surface as you shake your head. “It’s not what it looks—”

“We just didn’t want to get caught.” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, completely ignoring your protest. His tone is measured, almost too casual, as if he’s rehearsed this. He glances at the group, offering a shrug. “It would’ve made things awkward, you know?”

To your complete and utter disbelief, the crowd buys it. They actually believe the crap he's saying. Heads nod in understanding, murmurs of agreement ripple around the fire. It’s the most ridiculous explanation you’ve ever heard, and yet they’re accepting it like it's the most normal thing ever.

Your scowl deepens as you glare at Jungkook, who doesn’t so much as glance your way. Instead, he’s perfectly composed, acting like this is all just another day in his life. Meanwhile, you’re left fuming, the crowd’s reactions only stoking your frustration.

“If everyone will excuse me... I need to have a word with my... boyfriend.” you finally manage to say, your voice laced with barely concealed irritation. The last word comes out sharper than you intend, carrying just enough edge to earn a chorus of hoots and teasing laughter from the group.

“Ohhh, someone’s in trouble!” Suho calls, while Mrs. Lee clasps her hands over her heart as if this is the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. You can feel the amused gazes burning into your back, but you refuse to look at anyone.

The crowd’s reactions only fuel your annoyance. You rise from your chair, your movements brisk. Jungkook barely has time to react as you stride over to him. Before he can say a single word, you grab his arm and tug him out of his chair with more force than necessary.

Without sparing him a glance, you drag him away from the fire, ignoring the whistles and giggles echoing behind you. Someone, probably Ryunjin, makes a half-joking comment about you two sneaking off to "make up" or something equally ridiculous, but you’re too annoyed to care.

The moment you’re far enough from the group, heading towards the cabins, you whirl around to face Jungkook, still gripping his arm. “What the hell was that?” you shriek, your voice seething with anger. "WE are dating? Really?"

Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers gently prying your hands from his arm. “Relax, princess.” he says, his voice calm yet dripping with smugness. “I only said that to help you out.”

“Help me out?” you echo, stepping back dramatically with your arms crossed, your face twisting into mock surprise. “Wow, Jungkook, what a saint. Should I start kissing the ground you walk on now, or later?”

He smirks, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “That ass Minhyuk was clearly making you uncomfortable. I figured I’d step in before he turned the bonfire into his personal Y/N fan club.” he shrugs.

You open your mouth to retort but pause, your brows furrowing slightly. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong about Minhyuk being a creep, but still you let out an exasperated groan, your arms flailing. “Oh, please. I could’ve handled him just fine without your big rescue act.”

“Right.” he drawls, leaning lazily against the cabin wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Because your plan of glaring daggers at him and clenching your fists was totally working. I mean, nothing screams ‘back off’ like the homicidal vibe you were giving off.”

You glare at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what makes you think I couldn’t have handled it? I literally told him I was good and that I didn't need him.”

“Oh, you did.” he agrees, a playful spark in his eyes. “But then you’d have Mrs. Lee trying to ‘mediate’ or whatever by trying to set you up on another one of her infamous blind dates. Admit it, I just saved you from weeks of awkwardness.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by how easily he brought Mrs. Lee into this. “Wait, so this whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing was just to dodge her matchmaking?” you question. “Well, partly.” he shrugs, tilting his head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Figured you’d rather deal with me than spend another evening making small talk with some random accountant she thinks is your ‘perfect match.’ You’re welcome.” he grins.

You let out a scoff, crossing your arms again. “Oh, I see. So now you’re my knight in shining armor?” you arch a brow at him. “Finally, you get it.” His smirk grows.

“Shut up.” you snap, unable to stop the look of irritation on your face. “And for the record, I’d much rather deal with Mrs. Lee than this.” you add, gesturing the space between you.

“Really?” His voice takes on a teasing tone, and he steps closer, his gaze locking with yours. You try to ignore the way your heart is hammering in your chest and continue glaring into his eyes. “Then why are you so rattled, huh? Afraid you’ll actually fall for me or something?” he narrows his eyes, his smirk only growing.

You scoff, heat rising to your cheeks, but you refuse to let him see you falter. “Fall for you? In your dreams.” you bite back. “Ouch.” he says, clutching his chest dramatically like you’ve shot an arrow straight through his heart. “And here I thought you’d be grateful. This is how you repay me?”

“Grateful?” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Jungkook, I don’t think you understand. You just lied to everyone we know and made it sound like we’re madly in love or something.”

“Well…” His grin widens, that playful glint in his eyes sparking something unwelcome in your chest. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”

Your jaw drops, and you glare at him, incredulous. “Fuck, there's nothing like you... you are literally unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming.” he quips without missing a beat, his smirk downright infuriating now. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He nods as if he’s doing you a massive favor. “Fake boyfriend?” you echo, your voice an octave higher as your frustration bubbles over.

“Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand the gravity of the situation here? Everyone’s going to expect us to get along now. They’re going to expect us to act like a real couple. And with the way we are, they’ll figure out this isn’t real before this trip is even over. Do you realize how humiliating that will be?”

You wave your hands around animatedly as you ramble, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. Jungkook watches you with a maddeningly calm expression, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the show.

He chuckles again, that infuriatingly relaxed sound that makes you want to pull your hair out. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s not that bad. You get to hang out with me, look like the perfect couple, and keep Mrs. Lee and Minhyuk off your back. Sounds like a solid win for you.” he says with that signature cocky grin.

You scoff. "This is ridiculou—"

“And yet...” he interrupts smoothly. “You didn't deny it out there... in front of everyone. Makes me wonder if there’s a tiny part of you that doesn’t mind the idea.”

You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. The sheer audacity of his statement has stolen your breath. He leans in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See?” he murmurs, his voice soft but teasing. “Speechless. I must be onto something.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself. “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. You're responsible for this mess, so you deal with it.” you mutter, taking a deep breath to try and calm the storm brewing inside you. “I just want to enjoy this whole retreat in peace.”

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening just a fraction before he shrugs, as if this entire exchange is just a game. “Fine, fine. Peace it is. But you know...” he adds, his voice teasing but with a hint of something genuine, “It wouldn't hurt to enjoy it a little more with me. You know, since I’m your fake boyfriend and all.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words send an unexpected flutter through you. “Don’t push it, Jeon.” you mutter, though the corner of your mouth twitches slightly, betraying the tiniest bit of amusement. You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from this conversation.

“Alright, alright.” he relents with a dramatic sigh, from behind you. “But remember, when you find yourself accidentally falling for me, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he quips, quickly walking past you. You grumble to yourself as you watch him walk away, approaching the lawn where everyone's seated.

You have no idea what this retreat has in store for you, especially after the insane turn of events on just the first night. Jungkook, of all people, is supposed to be your fake boyfriend in the prying eyes of your coworkers. You're still processing the fact that you’re stuck with this ridiculous situation, and you have no idea how you're going to pull it off.

But, as much as you hate to admit it, there's a tiny part of you that feels... surprisingly... grateful. Grateful that, for once, you don’t have to deal with creeps like Minhyuk or relentless matchmakers like Mrs. Lee.

Sure, dealing with Jungkook might be a headache, but at least he's got this whole "fake boyfriend" thing down, and for the moment, he’s temporarily keeping the pressure off you. You can't help but feel a little bit of relief knowing you won’t have to dodge constant questions about your non-existent love life this entire trip.

And something about this new dynamic, has you questioning everything between the two of you.

Finally, the retreat kicks off the next morning, and the first activity is an early morning hike. The air is crisp and the excitement buzzes in the atmosphere. To make things more interesting, everyone's decided to pair up and whichever team is the first to reach the top, wins a medal and a small trophy.

As you stand at the base, fidgeting with your water bottle, you can’t help but wonder what kind of chaos this day might bring, especially considering the mess you’ve gotten yourself into with Jungkook.

You’re eagerly waiting for Hoseok to arrive, fully prepared to be his hiking partner, when suddenly you hear a voice behind you.

"Waiting for me?" Jungkook’s voice is laced with that familiar smugness, and when you turn, you see him leaning casually against a tree near you, his arms crossed. His signature smirk is in place, as if he knows something you don’t.

You roll your eyes, already feeling the irritation creeping in. "Please, I’m waiting for Hobi." you reply dismissively, trying to avoid his gaze.

Jungkook's heart twists at your words, but he hides it behind a playful mask. "Wouldn't it be weird if you're pairing up with someone other than your... boyfriend?" he says, his voice lowering slightly as he leans in closer. His words hang in the air, and you feel a strange hesitation ripple through you.

You freeze for a moment, realizing the truth in his statement. It would be weird especially considering, the weird situation he had put the both of you in last night.

After yesterday, the idea of pairing up with anyone else, especially with the whole team now thinking you and Jungkook are some love-struck couple, would look suspicious. And if you really want to make this whole fake boyfriend thing work, you’re going to have to keep up the act... at least for the sake of saving face.

Your mind races, weighing your options, but when you glance over at the others, you see the curious glances, the whispers starting to form, and you know you can’t back out now. With a reluctant sigh, you turn back to Jungkook.

"Fine." you say, rolling your eyes for effect, though a small part of you is resigned. "But don't get any weird ideas. This is just for the hike."

Jungkook’s grin widens, and his eyes gleam with that mischievous glint. "Of course, princess. No weird ideas." he teases, but the way he looks at you suggests there’s more to this than just the hike.

As you both walk towards the trail, the weight of the situation hits you. This is it, you're officially stuck with him for the duration of this retreat, whether you like it or not. But as you glance at Jungkook, his confident strides beside you, you realize there might be more to this pairing than just avoiding humiliation.

You quickly shake off any lingering thoughts and turn your focus to the hike ahead. The trail is steep, rocky, and not exactly beginner-friendly, but you’re determined to stay ahead of the pack. Each step is carefully calculated, your legs pushing through the exhaustion as you navigate the uneven terrain.

Jungkook, walking beside you, watches with an almost bemused expression. He notices the fierce concentration on your face, the way your brows furrow ever so slightly as you push yourself harder with each step. You’re not one to give up easily, and it’s kind of impressive.

"You really are something, huh?" he teases, his voice cutting through the wind. "Who knew you'd be so competitive." he asks, like he already doesn't know that about you, considering the heavy competition that always takes place between the two of you back at the office.

You glance at him, rolling your eyes. "I’m not competitive." you huff, focusing on your footing. "I just don’t want to lose, especially to people who think they can beat us."

Jungkook chuckles, but his eyes are still focused on you. “Uh-huh. Sure.” His tone is playful, but there's something a little softer in his gaze as he watches you stride forward, determined and focused.

With each step, your legs begin to burn, but you push through it. The air grows thinner as you make your way up the mountain, and soon, you notice that you and Jungkook have managed to pull ahead of the rest of the group. At some point, it’s just the two of you... no one else even in sight. You can’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride.

Jungkook, though, seems to be taking it all in stride, effortlessly keeping pace with you. “Looks like we’re in the lead.” he says with a grin, clearly enjoying the challenge.

Just as you’re about to reply, the trail gets more rugged. The rocks beneath your feet become looser, the path steeper, and suddenly, you lose your balance. Before you can even react, Jungkook reaches out, steadying you by grabbing your hand.

“Easy there, princess.” he teases, his fingers curling around yours with a casual yet firm grip, as though it’s second nature to him.

You try to ignore the warmth of his hand against yours, but the sensation lingers, a pulse of heat running up your arm. His hand fits perfectly with yours, and for a second, you forget about everything... about the hike, the competition, even the ridiculousness of the situation.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression is focused on the path ahead, but there’s a subtle glint in his eyes, something mischievous. He knows how much his touch is affecting you, and you know he’s enjoying it a little too much.

You’re so distracted by everything... his touch, the heat flooding your chest, the odd fluttering in your stomach... that you don’t even see the giant twig lying across the trail until it’s too late. One moment you’re walking, and the next, your foot catches it, sending you sprawling forward. You yelp as your knee slams into the rough ground, the pain sharp and immediate.

Jungkook is quick to react, his hand shooting out to steady you before you can fall further. “Shit!” he exclaims, his voice full of concern. He crouches beside you as you wince, glancing at your scraped knee. Blood begins to seep from the wound, the large scratch standing out against your skin, especially since you’re wearing a pair of biker shorts.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice more worried than you expected. He quickly helps you sit on a nearby rock, crouching in front of you. His eyes flicker to your knee, concern creasing his brows as he inspects the wound. “This is bad.” he murmurs, his tone low as he gently touches your calf to get a better look at the injury.

You feel the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and despite the pain in your knee, something inside you jolts at the tenderness of his touch. Your heart skips a beat, and you have to force yourself to look away.

His fingers are still holding your leg, and the proximity of his body makes everything seem so much more intense than it should be. The sensation of his hand on your calf feels too intimate, too personal, and it makes your pulse race in a way that leaves you breathless.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to pull your leg back a little, though it’s hard to concentrate with him so close. “I’m fine.” you try to brush him off, your voice almost shaky as you speak. “It’s just a scratch.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. His eyes remain fixed on the cut, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs and looks up at you. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet seriousness. “Because that looks pretty nasty to me.”

You shift again, trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your skin. “I said I’m fine.” you insist, though your voice lacks the usual conviction. The warmth of his hand on your leg is making it hard to focus on anything else.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether to argue or just let it go. Finally, he pulls his hand away, and you breathe a little easier, though the air between you still feels weird.

Jungkook stands up straight, his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer than necessary. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and a tension that neither of you seem to know how to break. He looks down at your knee again, his eyes softening with concern, but he doesn’t say anything.

He somehow hates seeing you hurt, and something about it bothers him more than he’d like to admit. But he doesn’t know how to express that without sounding too… weird. So, he stays silent, unsure of how to bridge the gap between his thoughts and actions.

You shift uncomfortably, feeling his eyes on you. Your own gaze flickers between him and the ground, avoiding his stare, unsure of what to say next. You both seem so caught in this strange limbo that the sudden sound of footsteps snapping you both out of your trance is almost a relief.

You both turn at the same time, just in time to see Ryunjin and Suho dart past you, laughing and shouting with reckless energy. "Later, losers!" they yell, their voices teasing as they zoom past, not even sparing a glance at you or Jungkook.

Before either of you can react, they’re already a good distance ahead, their teasing echoes fading into the distance. The moment feels absurd, and yet somehow, it breaks the tension that had been hanging between you and Jungkook. You both stay there for a second, staring after the rapidly disappearing pair, trying to process what just happened.

Jungkook lets out a dry laugh, breaking the quiet. “Well, that was... something.” he says. You can't help but chuckle too, the absurdity of it all making you shake your head. "Yeah, something." you reply, your voice light despite the situation.

Jungkook glances at you, a small, almost self-conscious grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Guess we better catch up, huh? Wouldn’t want to lose to them."

Without missing a beat, you push yourself to your feet, ignoring the burning sensation in your knee as if it’s nothing. The adrenaline of the competition quickly wipes away any lingering pain. You’re determined now, not just to make it to the top, but to beat Ryunjin and Suho.

You and Jungkook exchange a brief look, and without saying another word, you both grab each other’s hands and break into a run. The path ahead is rocky, but you’re not paying attention to anything other than the prize... victory. The cold mountain air fills your lungs as your feet pound against the uneven ground, each step propelling you forward.

Jungkook keeps his pace beside you, the sound of his breath in sync with yours as you both push yourselves harder. He offers a teasing grin now and then, his usual cocky demeanor back in full force, but you know he’s just as focused as you are on overtaking the pair ahead.

The climb becomes more intense, the sharp incline testing your endurance, but your legs keep moving. You’re so close to the top now, your eyes on Suho and Ryunjin, who are just a few feet ahead. Your heart races, not just from the physical exertion, but from the competitive energy that’s coursing between you and Jungkook.

For a split second, you almost think you’re going to overtake them. You push yourself harder, your hand gripping Jungkook’s tighter, your determination burning stronger than ever. But just as you reach the final stretch, you see Suho and Ryunjin cross the summit.

“No way !!” you groan, stopping just short of the top. Jungkook slows down next to you, panting, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the victorious pair. “They beat us just by a few seconds.” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. But as he turns to look at you, the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Close, though. We almost had them.” he says.

You stand there for a moment, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and then glance at him. “Yeah, well. Almost doesn’t count, does it?” you tease, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jungkook’s lips twitch upward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something you can’t quite place. “Guess not.” he replies, but then his gaze softens, just a touch. “But we’ll definitely get them next time.”

The way he says next time... with such ease, almost like a promise, sends a strange feeling through you. It doesn’t sound like just another competition or a simple throwaway line. No, it’s more like a subtle invitation, an unspoken acknowledgment that this could be something to look forward to.

It’s not just the words themselves, but the way he says it, like there will be another chance for the two of you, paired together again, side by side. Like it’s not a one time thing, but the beginning of something that feels more… natural.

You swallow the sudden flutter in your chest, trying to focus on something else... something to push away the warmth spreading in your cheeks. It’s just a hike, just a little competition, you tell yourself, but the thought lingers.

Maybe it’s the rush of the moment, the adrenaline, or maybe it’s something about the way Jungkook looks at you now. Whatever it is, you can’t quite shake the feeling that next time won’t just be about winning.

“Yeah, next time.” you echo, your voice softer now, as if you’re both saying more than just the words.

Hoseok lounges casually on your bed, his head propped up on one arm as he watches you through the mirror as you do your skin care. "Guess you had fun on that hike, huh?" he says, a teasing glint in his eyes as he observes your focused movements.

You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond immediately. The sheet mask on your face makes it difficult to show any expression, but you can't hide the subtle irritation bubbling under the surface. Hoseok, ever the observant one, takes note of your silence and grins to himself, enjoying your discomfort in a way only he could.

“But actually though, how long are you two planning on keeping up this whole fake relationship thing?” he asks, with a casual tilt of his head. His voice is playful, but there's an undertone of genuine curiosity, as if he's waiting for some kind of confession.

You pause, your fingers freezing on the edges of the mask as his words sink in. The question lingers in the air, heavier than it first appeared. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. "I honestly don't know." you admit, the frustration evident in your tone. "This whole thing... it’s just such a ridiculous situation to be in. I didn’t even sign up for this, Hobi."

Your shoulders slump slightly as you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of the words you’ve just said. There’s no denying the absurdity of the situation, but even more unsettling is how easily you’ve been feeling ever since that hike got over.

"Honestly..." Hoseok starts, his voice tapering off, a hint of hesitance in his tone. "I just think... he might like you." he says. You snap your head towards him so fast that he bursts into laughter, pointing at your face. "Oh my god, the look! And with that sheet mask? Iconic." He doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Please." You wave him off, narrowing your eyes even as you feel your cheeks heat beneath the mask. "That can’t be true." you deny, shaking your head, though his words settle in your chest like a pebble dropped into water, rippling outwards.

Hoseok leans forward, his laughter fading into a soft, knowing smile. “Think about it, Y/N.” He swings his legs off the bed and sits up straighter, his expression suddenly more serious. "Why would he randomly step in to ‘save’ you from Minhyuk and Mrs. Lee when none of it has anything to do with him? What’s he getting out of this whole... fake relationship?"

You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. His words sit heavy in the room, pressing against thoughts you’ve tried to avoid all day. Hoseok watches you intently, sensing your hesitation but giving you the space to think.

“I mean, according to me...” he continues, his voice steady but gentle. “The only thing he’s gaining... is your company. The opportunity to be around you, to talk to you, to..." He hesitates for a beat, then finishes with a meaningful look. "To get closer to you."

His words hang in the air, a truth you’re not sure you’re ready to face. Your fingers hover over your mask as you stare back at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and the slow, creeping realization that maybe... just maybe, he’s right.

Jungkook slips out of the shower, the warmth of the water still clinging to his skin as he slides into a pair of comfortable pajamas. The exhaustion of the long day settles in, and he collapses onto the bed with a soft sigh.

The cabin feels quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and as he stares up at the ceiling, his eyes blink slowly, each blink heavier than the last.

His thoughts begin to wander, as they often do, drifting towards you. He isn’t sure why, but lately, you seem to occupy a bigger space in his mind than he’d like to admit. He wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into. The whole fake relationship thing, the way it all started... none of it makes sense to him.

But then he remembers the moment it all fell into place. The ridiculousness of it. The heat rising in him when he saw Minhyuk talking to you that way, too comfortable in his space, too persistent with his flirtations.

He didn’t plan to say anything in front of everyone, but something about the whole interaction made him snap. He blurted out the claim about you two dating, and even now, he’s not sure where it came from. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it probably wasn’t just about Minhyuk.

He thinks about the hike today. The way you worked together, the coordination, the unspoken understanding between you both as you made your way up the mountain. The way his stomach churned at the sight of you hurt. The way your hands brushed, then clasped. How your palm felt against his, soft and warm, so natural.

He tries to shake the memory, but it lingers, like the lingering heat of the sun on his skin after a long day. He had to act like it didn’t faze him, like the moment didn’t make his heart race a little faster, but in reality, it was the opposite. His whole body had reacted to the touch, to the proximity.

He lets out a soft groan and rolls over, burying his face in the pillow, willing the thoughts to go away. It’s just a fake relationship, right? So why does it feel like there’s so much more to it than that?

The second day of the retreat arrives with a buzz of excitement, and as everyone gathers in the main hall, Mr. Cho announces the day's event which is supposed to be a Photo Scavenger Hunt. It's another pair activity, and you know exactly who your partner will be. Refusing to team up with your fake boyfriend, Jungkook, would raise too many suspicions and be undeniably awkward.

Pairs are handed a checklist of photo prompts, each designed to challenge creativity and, more importantly, sell the illusion of a couple deeply in love. Age, gender, or real dynamics don’t matter, the goal is clear... convince the world you’re head over heels.

Jungkook snatches the prompt list before you can, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement.

“This is going to be so fun.” he declares, scanning the list. You fold your arms, a skeptical frown settling on your face. “I hate taking pictures.” you admit. “And we have to look like a couple deeply in love? How the hell are we supposed to pull that off?”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a baby about it. Let’s show these amateurs what a real couple looks like.” The irony of his statement doesn’t escape you. Pretending to be a real couple while knowing everything between your current dynamic is fake feels like some cosmic joke. It tugs at your heart in a way you don’t want to analyze.

Instead, you shift your focus to the task at hand as Jungkook reads the first prompt aloud. “Take a photo of something adventurous.” he announces, his excitement palpable.

The prompt leads you both to the resort’s outdoor obstacle course, where a rope bridge sways precariously over a shallow creek. “This looks adventurous enough.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the bridge. You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re joking, right? There's no way... I’m setting foot on that thing.” you say shaking your head.

He steps onto the first plank, the bridge creaking under his weight. Turning to you, he extends a hand, his confidence unwavering. “Just trust me.” he grins. You hesitate, glancing at his outstretched hand. Something about the steady way he looks at you makes your heart skip. Against your better judgment, you take his hand and step onto the bridge.

The journey across is a chaotic mix of laughter and shrieks as the bridge sways with every movement. You’re freaking the hell out, but somehow, Jungkook’s firm grip on your hand keeps you grounded. His teasing comments, however, do nothing to help calm your nerves.

Suddenly, the bridge sways a little too much, and you yelp in panic, instinctively inching closer to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, holding on for dear life. You close your eyes, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Relax!!!” Jungkook laughs, his voice laced with amusement, finding your current state of distress incredibly adorable. “You’re holding onto me like I’m the bridge.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heat of his body overwhelming, and you feel your heart racing in your chest. His laugh sends a jolt through you, but you manage to focus on the safety of his embrace. “Because I don’t trust this death trap!” you snap back, clinging tighter to him. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“Chill, I got you.” he reassures you, but his voice is teasing. “You’re literally holding me. I can’t let go even if I wanted to.” The way his words send a thrill through you catches you off guard, but you can't focus on that now, you're too busy gripping him like a lifeline.

He laughs again, and you feel his arms shift slightly as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Are you seriously taking a picture now?” you ask incredulously. “Gotta capture the terror on your face.” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, you’re hugging me. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”

Before you can reply, he angles his phone to fit both of you in the frame, holding it out with a cocky smile before clicking the picture.

As you still tightly clutch onto him, you peek at the phone as he lowers it. You burst into laughter when you see the picture, a chaotic snapshot of your panicked face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, eyes wide in shock, but with a hint of a smile hidden in the corners. It’s a mess, but somehow cute. “See?” he says with a playful grin. “Adventurous and adorable.”

You and Jungkook continue breezing through prompt after prompt, and to your surprise, you're both working together seamlessly. The tension from earlier has melted away, replaced by an ease you didn't expect.

His teasing jokes, the way he makes goofy comments behind the camera before snapping a picture... it’s all so endearing. And every time he makes you laugh, you feel those familiar butterflies flutter in your chest, something light and genuine that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time.

As you pose for yet another shot, your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to disappear. You're not acting for a game anymore, not pretending for a prize. There's a softness between you now, a connection you hadn't realized you craved until you found it. You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that’s completely unguarded, and Jungkook can't help but watch you with a smile that matches your own.

He is somehow completely captivated by this version of you, the one without the sarcastic remarks, the biting humor, and the walls you usually keep up. The way you smile for the pictures, the way you compose yourself with such grace, it’s just too cute. The soft glow in your eyes when you’re not worried about anything, not keeping your distance, is something he’s never seen before. It feels so natural, so easy, and he loves it.

With every click of his camera, Jungkook is slowly realizing how much he enjoys seeing you like this... so at ease, so carefree. Even though the situation started as a fake relationship, he's surprised to find that it feels more real than he ever imagined. It feels... perfect.

There's no tension, no need for the sarcastic quips or the emotional distance you usually keep between you. Instead, it's just easy. He can simply be with you, in this moment, without any pretense. And the more he enjoys this connection, the more he wonders how long he can keep pretending that it isn’t something more.

For a brief moment, as he adjusts the camera, he catches you looking at him... a soft, knowing smile playing on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his confidence falters. He quickly shakes off the feeling, focusing on the next shot, but the lingering warmth in his chest doesn’t go away. It’s there, quietly growing, and for a second, he wonders if maybe you can feel it too.

Soon enough, you reach the last prompt on the list. "Capture your partner with something beautiful." You read it aloud, and Jungkook's eyes light up like he’s found the perfect solution. He grabs your wrist, pulling you along with him, a determined glint in his eyes. “Follow me.” he says.

Without fully understanding where he’s leading you, you let him tug you along, and before long, you find yourself in the resort’s rose garden. You pause, taking in the breathtaking sight before you.

The garden is sprawling and lush, with rows of perfectly manicured bushes, each adorned with an array of vibrant roses in every imaginable colur… pale pinks, deep reds, and the most delicate whites.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and butterflies flit from one blossom to the next, completing the serene picture. The sun casts a warm golden light, dappling the garden with soft shadows, making the whole place look like something out of a dream.

Jungkook releases your wrist, stepping back to admire you as you take in the surroundings. “How did you even find this place?” you ask, amused, turning to him with raised eyebrows.

He grins, clearly proud of himself. “I was just exploring early this morning.” he admits, brushing a hand through his hair. His gaze softens as he watches you, and it suddenly hits him... for the first time today, he doesn’t need to pose you, doesn’t need to direct you for a shot. Everything here feels perfect just the way it is. You, in this beautiful setting, naturally glowing and lost in the beauty of it all.

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out his phone and takes the first picture. And then another. And another. He’s capturing you... your expression, the way your eyes linger on the flowers, how the soft breeze plays with your hair. Each click feels more like he’s documenting something sacred, something delicate. You’re unaware of it at first, lost in the moment.

But as you turn, you notice him snapping away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your own eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you started clicking pictures!” you say, an involuntary pout forming on your lips.

Jungkook laughs, the sound deep and genuine. "It’s fine." he says, still grinning. "I got the perfect shots."

Your heart skips, your breath catching at the way he looks at you... like you’re the most beautiful thing in this whole garden, and the way his gaze lingers on you makes your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. There's something so intimate in the way he sees you, something that makes you feel simultaneously vulnerable and cherished.

Now that all the prompts are done, you and Jungkook sit together on the lawn, reviewing the photos on his phone. The sun is beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over the entire resort, and the air carries a calmness that makes the moment feel almost too perfect.

There’s a small laugh escaping your lips as you scroll past each photo, surprised at how natural you both look. The ones of you and him are the ones that stand out... your smiles feel real, and the carefree joy captured in each shot makes you wonder if, for a fleeting second, the line between pretending and reality might’ve blurred.

As your thumb scrolls past a particularly silly photo of him pulling a goofy face, your eyes linger on the images of yourself. There’s a softness to them... how your eyes shine, how your lips curve into a smile that isn’t forced. You can’t remember the last time you looked so... content.

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook in the rest of the photos, his relaxed posture, his playful grins, and the way he’s effortlessly good-looking in every frame.

But then, Jungkook stops you from scrolling, his finger gently pausing on one of the photos. Your heart stutters when you realize it’s a picture of you that he had taken in the rose garden, the soft wind lifting your hair, your eyes caught on a pink rose, lost in a moment of thought. T

he colors in the picture are so vivid... the soft pink of the rose, the delicate green leaves, and the way the light plays off the petals.

“This one.” Jungkook says quietly, his voice lower than usual. You glance at him, sensing a change in the air, an unspoken weight that hangs between you both. The way he says it almost sounds like a confession, but you’re unsure what it means.

You turn your attention back to the picture, your fingers unconsciously tightening around the phone as your heart begins to race. The photo seems so simple, yet there’s something undeniably intimate about it.

“This one’s my favorite.” he repeats, his eyes not leaving the screen, but you can feel his gaze shift to you, as if waiting for your reaction. The moment seems to stretch, and you swear the temperature of the air is now different.

You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Uh... why?” you ask. Your voice feels small against the sudden heaviness of the moment, the question awkwardly leaving your lips. Your eyes drift to the picture again, but it’s hard to focus with the flutter in your chest.

Jungkook’s gaze softens, a quiet sincerity filling his eyes that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Because it’s... you.”

His words stay in the air, simple yet weighted, like a confession he hadn’t planned on making. And for the briefest moment, everything else falls away… the photos, the game, the fake relationship.

All you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you, the way he said it, as if it meant something deeper than just the photo. It feels like he’s seen something in you, something you haven’t even fully recognized in yourself.

You’re left speechless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. There’s a warmth spreading in your chest, a feeling that seems to fill every space between you and him, and for the first time, the reality of what’s happening between you two feels undeniable.

The third day of the retreat dawns with a calm, unstructured agenda, a welcome contrast to the competitive energy of the past two days. With nothing specific planned, you decide to spend your time with Hoseok, exploring the scenic surroundings and indulging in the retreat’s offerings.

By mid-afternoon, the two of you make your way to the spa for a personal massage. The atmosphere is serene, filled with the soft hum of calming music and the faint aroma of lavender.

As the tension melts away under the skilled hands of the masseuse, your thoughts wander, sifting through the events of the past few days. It’s a rare moment of clarity and introspection, and you allow yourself to simply breathe and reflect.

By the time you’re done, it’s nearly evening. You step out of the spa, still basking in the therapeutic aftereffects. Hoseok is waiting for you outside, leaning casually against a pillar, and his face lights up when he sees you stretching your neck with a satisfied sigh.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” he asks with a grin, and you hum in agreement, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Totally. I feel like a whole new person.” you reply, rolling your shoulders and relishing the weightlessness in your muscles.

Hoseok chuckles before his tone shifts slightly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go hang out with Suho and Mr. Cho for a bit if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tinged with a trace of guilt. You shake your head immediately, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Hobi. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just chill near the cabins or take a stroll. Go, have fun!”

His expression softens at your easygoing response. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you later.” you say, giving him a small wave as he turns to leave. As you watch Hoseok walk away, a peculiar sense of contentment settles within you, something you can’t quite place but feel nonetheless. The day has unfolded in a way you didn’t anticipate, leaving you more at peace than you expected.

You make your way back to your cabin, eager to change into something more comfortable. Slipping into a soft, flowing dress that cascades gently against your legs, you find it strikes the perfect balance between relaxation and elegance.

Stepping out of your cabin, ready to roam aimlessly through the quiet grounds, you suddenly catch sight of Jungkook approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Well, hello there, girlfriend." he teases, his voice laced with playful sarcasm as a mischievous wink follows. With measured confidence, he closes the distance between you, his smirk never faltering, leaving you to wonder if there's more behind his words than the usual banter.

You feel an involuntary tug at the corners of your mouth, but you quickly mask it by rolling your eyes. "Jeon." you greet him flatly as you close the door behind you. “You look lonely.” Jungkook teases, his tone soft.

You open your mouth to retort, but he beats you to it. “Wanna go for a walk?” His words come out almost too casually, but there’s a spark in his eyes, an invitation you can’t quite ignore.

As you glance around at your coworkers scattered about near by, you realize that declining might raise more suspicion than agreeing. It’s a harmless walk, nothing more, nothing less. And, perhaps you tell yourself, it could make the whole fake relationship thing a little more believable.

But a part of you thinks all these reasonings are just yet another reason to cover up what you're actually feeling. You hesitate for only a moment, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “Sure.” you answer.

The surprise in Jungkook’s eyes is fleeting, but it’s there... his brows lifting slightly at your unexpected compliance. He quickly masks it with a grin, but there’s something unspoken between you now, a shift in the air that neither of you acknowledges aloud. Without another word, he gestures for you to follow, and you do, your steps in sync as you head out into the cool evening.

As you walk side by side, the air between you feels strangely light, almost serene. Jungkook exhales softly, his voice breaking the silence as if testing the waters. "So, how was your day?" he asks, his tone gentle but curious.

"Good." you respond with a simple, soft smile, but you find yourself wanting to offer more, to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I got a massage at the spa. It was incredible." you add, your smile deepening as the memory lingers. The soothing sensation still radiates from your body, and the thought of it gives you a sense of peace.

Jungkook nods, taking in your words with quiet interest. His gaze briefly shifts to you, and something flickers in his eyes. The evening sun bathes your face in a warm, golden light, the soft rays catching in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly in the breeze.

For a second, Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his thoughts scattered as a sudden, fleeting realization tugs at him. Have you always been this beautiful? But he quickly suppresses it, trying to act unaffected.

"I played badminton with a few of the guys." he says instead, his voice now carrying a touch of nonchalance, as if dismissing the fleeting moment. He averts his gaze, not quite able to look you in the eye for too long, especially when you're looking so breathtaking.

You hum softly, your attention still lingering on his words, though a small part of your mind is distracted by the strange tension that's begun to build. It’s a new, unfamiliar feeling... this conversation with him, so unexpectedly civil, so effortlessly simple, without the usual sharp edges that have always defined your interactions. It feels almost too easy.

As you walk beside him, your knuckles brush against his ever so lightly, a momentary touch that sends a ripple of electricity up your arm. You pause, your thoughts suddenly a jumble. Should I pull my hand away? you wonder. Should I cross my arms, keep a distance?

But before you can decide, Jungkook's hand finds yours. His fingers slip between yours with an ease that catches you off guard, as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times before.

For a split second, everything around you blurs, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you freeze. The warmth of his touch spreads through you like wildfire, an overwhelming wave of sensations that makes your pulse quicken.

Somehow, this is a million times more different compared to yesterday or the day before. You glance at him, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and something else you can't quite place.

But before you can even open your mouth to question him, Jungkook glances down at your joined hands, his voice a hushed murmur. "Mr. Park and Minhyuk are looking." he says, his words almost inaudible in the quiet evening, yet laden with a sudden urgency.

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of the situation settling over you with sudden clarity. Of course, you think bitterly. It was all part of the act, a simple move to maintain the facade, to avoid suspicion. The thought feels like a cold rush, and you can’t quite understand why it makes your heart sink just a little.

As your mind swirls, Hoseok’s words from the day before yesterday echo in your head, the ones that made you question the dynamics of this entire charade.

Why is Jungkook even doing this? What is he even getting out of it? you wonder. His actions feel so carefully measured, so deliberate, but now, standing beside him, you can’t help but feel like there’s more to it than just playing along for appearances.

And then, as your thoughts tumble over each other, another question surfaces... one you can’t shake. Why is he worried about being caught? You glance at Jungkook, his face turned slightly away, eyes still focused on the path ahead, his hand still holding yours. He hasn’t loosened his grip, but there’s a tension in the way he holds on, as though it’s more than just a practical gesture.

The thought lingers, unanswered, hanging between you like a whispered secret. The more you try to push it away, the more the question claws at you, refusing to be ignored.

As much as you try to convince yourself that this is just a show, a performance, a simple arrangement between two people caught in an absurd situation, a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more at play here... something deeper, more complicated, something neither of you are ready to face.

The next day arrives quickly, the sun shining brightly and casting a warm, golden glow over the retreat grounds. You find yourself standing in the doorway of the large kitchen, anticipation bubbling in your chest.

As you wait for the day’s activity to begin, your thoughts drift to Jungkook, and a soft smile graces your lips. The past three days with him have been unexpectedly delightful and you feel like your heart has been beating differently… and the desire to see him, to be near him is gradually increasing minute by minute.

Today, the schedule has a bake-off on the list, a lighthearted yet competitive event. But this time, to your surprise, there's a slight twist... you don’t get to choose your partner.

Instead, Mr. Cho will be picking out the names from a hat, ensuring that everyone interacts with someone new instead of just sticking with familiar faces. Jungkook already gets paired up with Hoseok and a part of you falters, sad that he won’t be your partner for this activity.

The anticipation in the room builds as Mr. Cho starts calling out the names. Your heart skips a beat when you hear your name being paired with none other than Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi was a fellow coworker from another team and a part of you is thankful it’s him and not some random stranger. You’ve worked with him a few times before, and while you’ve always admired his quiet charm, today you’re both in for an unexpected challenge. Yoongi has always been sweet and approachable, his gummy smile and laid-back nature endearing to everyone around him.

As you walk over to your station, Yoongi stands beside you, looking a little uncertain. He glances at the array of ingredients and sighs. “I’ve never baked before.” he admits, his tone a mix of amusement and apprehension.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Same here.” you say with a playful grin, turning to face him. “Guess we’re both in for an adventure today.” The words come easily, and something about the situation feels oddly comforting.

Meanwhile, a few counters away, Jungkook stands next to Hoseok. If he wasn’t already irritated by the fact that he was being paired with someone he absolutely cannot stand, considering how Hoseok being your close friend has always annoyed him, the sight of you working so easily with someone else... some other man... has his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you and Yoongi chat easily, the two of you laughing and navigating your baking station with light-hearted banter. Every glance in your direction feels like a reminder that things are not as simple as they should be.

Yoongi’s soft laugh cuts through his thoughts, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of something he refuses to acknowledge. It’s like the universe is conspiring against him today, forcing him to witness you grow closer to someone else, and it makes him feel something he can’t quite place.

The tension in his chest tightens, but he pushes it down, trying to focus on his own station. He can’t let himself get distracted by this, even though the thought of you mingling with another man gnaws at him, just under the surface.

Ignoring the crushing weight in his chest, Jungkook forces himself to focus on the task at hand, settling into a rhythm with Hoseok. Surprisingly, Hoseok proves to be a cooperative partner, and they manage to work efficiently, though their conversations are sparse and purely functional.

Around them, the kitchen hums with energy... clattering bowls, bursts of laughter, and the sound of Mr. Cho’s voice as he strolls by to observe everyone’s progress.

Jungkook tries to keep his head down, but his resolve falters as his gaze drifts, almost involuntarily, to your station. You’re with Yoongi, and the sight is just undeniably painful. The two of you are laughing, the kind of laughter that feels unrestrained and easy, and Jungkook feels something bitter rise in his chest.

His eyes narrow as Yoongi leans closer to you, smirking as he says something that makes you giggle. Then Yoongi suddenly blows a puff of flour in your direction, his grin widening when you squeal and lift your hands in a futile attempt to block it. “Yoongi!” you exclaim, laughing as you swipe the powder off your cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” Yoongi replies smoothly, dusting off his hands with a wink.

Jungkook glares, his grip on the mixing bowl tightening. Look at this grown-ass man making a mess, he thinks bitterly. But he knows it’s not about the flour or the mess, it’s about the easy camaraderie between the two of you, the playful way Yoongi leans into your space as you try to whisk the cream.

“You know...” Yoongi drawls, leaning casually on the counter as you measure the sugar. “You’re pretty good at this. Maybe we should open a bakery together. I’ll be the charming face of the business, and you can do all the work.”

You snort, nudging him with your elbow. Yoongi has always been like this, with all the occasional comments and jokes. “Oh, so I do the heavy lifting while you stand around and smile? Sounds like a solid partnership.” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Exactly.” he replies with a mock-serious nod. Then his tone shifts, dipping into something playfully flirtatious. “Or, better yet, we could skip the bakery and just bake together... at my place.”

Your eyes widen slightly before you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.” you say. “I’m practical.” Yoongi retorts with a shrug. “Besides, if you ever get tired of Jungkook, you know where to find me.” he jokes and even you know that he doesn't really mean that because you're somewhat used to his harmless, meaningless flirting.

As far as you've observed, he's like this with everyone, but the man standing a few counters behind you doesn't know that and his jaw tightens as he overhears the conversation.

He glares at Yoongi, his eyes narrowing into slits as his chest tightens uncomfortably. If she ever gets tired of me? Please. The laughter at your station contrasts sharply with the strained silence at his own, and Jungkook struggles to quell the sour taste in his mouth. He stirs the batter with unnecessary vigor, trying to block out the image of you with someone else.

“Are you trying to murder the batter?” Hoseok’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Jungkook blinks and realizes he’s been whisking too hard, the mixture splattered slightly around the edges. “Just... making sure it’s mixed properly.” he mutters, brushing off Hoseok’s raised brow.

Hoseok shakes his head, muttering something about misplaced aggression, but Jungkook doesn’t hear it. His eyes are already back on you, unable to look away even as it irritates him to no end.

“Oh, please.” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning. “As if I’d ever pick you. You’d probably just make me do all the work anyway.” you say, passing him the bowl so that he can make sure the batter's smoothly mixed.

“Not true.” Yoongi says, feigning offense. “I’d let you taste-test everything too. See? Equal partnership.” he smiles. Your laughter rings out again, light and carefree, and Jungkook feels like he’s losing his mind. It’s not just the banter, or the way Yoongi’s grin stretches wide... it’s the way you respond to him, the way you look genuinely happy.

Eventually, the bake-off wraps up, and to everyone’s surprise, Mr. Park and another coworker, Wonho, win the contest. Their cake is a masterpiece, elegantly designed with intricate icing patterns that scream perfection.

You figure it’s mostly Wonho’s expertise in the decorative details, given his reputation for being particular about aesthetics. The room erupts into cheers and applause as they pose proudly with their winning cake.

You smile to yourself, genuinely happy for them, but the mess on your hands and clothes pulls your focus. Flour is smeared across your arms and streaked on your dress, and you can feel the sticky remnants of batter clinging to your fingers. Without wasting another moment, you slip out of the bustling kitchen, eager to return to your cabin for a much-needed cleanup.

As you head down the hall, your eyes catch sight of Jungkook leaning casually against the wall. His head is tilted down, eyes glued to his phone, but the sharp furrow of his brows and the tight line of his jaw betray his mood. He looks annoyed, maybe even angry.

For a moment, you hesitate. Should you approach him? Was his frustration because of the bake-off? Maybe he’s upset about not winning. You take a deep breath, deciding there’s no harm in greeting him. “Hey.” you say softly as you come to a stop a few feet away from him.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards you for the briefest second before returning to his screen. He doesn’t say anything, his fingers continuing to scroll, his expression unreadable but cold. The blatant dismissal catches you off guard. You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the sting of his indifference. “Jungkook?” you say again, your voice firmer this time.

Still, nothing.

The silence stretches, and unease begins to creep in. These past three days of the retreat, you guys had been civil, even managing moments of genuine connection. It had felt like a breakthrough, a tentative truce that hinted at something lighter, something easier. And yet, here he was, shutting you out without reason.

You shift on your feet, your confidence faltering slightly as you wonder if you’ve done something to upset him. “What’s up with you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral, though the undercurrent of irritation is hard to hide.

This time, Jungkook finally looks up. His dark eyes meet yours, and for a fleeting moment, there’s something softer in them... something almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, that familiar wall slams back into place. “Nothing.” he mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” you echo, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve been standing here, with your face looking like you just lost a million dollars, but sure, ‘nothing.’”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Why don’t you just go back to Yoongi, Y/N? Stop bothering me.” he snaps. Your head tilts in surprise, amusement flickering briefly in your expression at the mention of Yoongi’s name. “Excuse me?” you ask, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, go back to him. Looks like you were having quite the time back in there.” Jungkook scoffs, looking away as his jaw tightens. Your amusement quickly shifts to irritation as you process his words. “Why do you even care?” you challenge, your tone sharp now.

“I don’t care.” he fires back almost immediately, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “Oh really?” you ask, stepping closer as you narrow your eyes at him. “I just think it’s funny." he continues, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “How you’re flirting with some other guy when I’m right here.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening slightly as if realizing what he’s just said. He quickly scrambles to cover it up, clearing his throat and speaking again, this time with forced nonchalance. “I mean, am I not your fake boyfriend? What are people going to think if they see you flirting with someone else?”

You blink at him, your irritation momentarily replaced by astonishment at the bizarre leap in logic. “Are you serious right now?” you ask, a dry laugh escaping you. “You’re worried about what people are going to think? Or are you just... I don't know?? Jealous, Jungkook?”

“I’m not jealous.” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, the defensiveness sharp in the air. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Good question.” you fire back, your tone heavy with sarcasm. “Why should you be jealous? Last time I checked, you’re not my real boyfriend.” Your words come out sharper than you intend, slicing through the tension between you.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you watch as something flickers in his eyes, something silent, something that feels like hurt.

Even though you know what you said is the truth, there’s a pang of guilt in your chest. His expression softens just enough to make you second-guess yourself, and for a second, you wonder if maybe you shouldn't have said what you said.

He exhales slowly, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you can’t quite place. “Right.” he finally says, his voice quieter now, more measured. His arms cross over his chest, but the posture doesn’t feel defensive, it feels like he’s holding himself together. “I’m not your real boyfriend.”

The way he echoes your words, so pointedly yet almost resigned, sends a ripple of unease through you. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, something that feels raw and unguarded, and it makes your stomach twist.

For a moment, the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything neither of you is saying. You want to say something... anything, to break the tension, to take back the sting of your words. But nothing comes.

Instead, Jungkook steps back, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he turns away. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/n.” he says, his tone light but his words weighted with something deeper. And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing there with the echo of your own voice ringing in your ears and a sinking feeling in your chest.

"I just don’t get it.” you groan, throwing your head back against the pillow in Hoseok's cabin, the ceiling above blurring as your thoughts churn. “Why is this happening? Why is he like this?” you question, recalling the earlier interaction between you and Jungkook.

Hoseok, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is surrounded by the chaos of his half-packed suitcase as he tries to find a nice outfit for tomorrow. He folds a T-shirt with an exaggerated patience, glancing up at you with an amused smile. “Come on, Y/N. It’s obvious.” he breathes out.

“What’s obvious?” you ask, your tone laced with frustration. Hoseok sighs dramatically, as if your cluelessness is physically exhausting for him. “He’s jealous.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with furrowed brows. Even you had thought of this particular scenario, but you still question, acting clueless. “Jealous? Of what?”

Hoseok leans back on his hands, a grin tugging at his lips. “Of Yoongi, obviously. You should’ve seen the way he was glaring at the two of you during the bake-off. He was gripping the mixing bowl like it was the only thing keeping him attached to reality. I was literally expecting him to snap it in half.” he jokes.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, but the weight of Hoseok’s words lingers. “That’s actually ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? We’re not even… I mean…” You trail off, the words “fake dating” sitting heavy in your throat.

“You tell me.” Hoseok says, shrugging as he picks up another shirt. “But it’s pretty clear to anyone with eyes that he was seconds away from combusting every time Yoongi even smiled at you.” he says.

You flop back against the pillow, covering your face with your hands. “This is so infuriating.” you grumble, your voice muffled. “Why does it even matter? It’s not like this whole fake boyfriend thing is real. It’s all just some stupid charade. And now… this... this unnecessary drama. It’s just messing with my mind.” you complain.

Hoseok is quiet for a moment, letting your words hang in the air before he speaks again. His tone is softer now. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You lower your hands slowly, turning your head to look at him. “What is it?” you question. He hesitates, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you... feel something for him?” he asks. The question hits you like a jolt, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Do you?

Your mind races, retracing the tangled threads of your feelings for Jungkook. The way your heart skips when he looks at you just a little too long, the way his rare moments of softness make your chest tighten.

The truth, you realize, is that these feelings aren’t entirely new. They’ve always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Even back at the office, behind all the snarky remarks and the constant bickering, you wanted his attention. You wanted to know him, to get closer to him.

But somehow, the easiest way to stay on his radar had been to antagonize him, to get under his skin. It was safer than admitting how you really felt.

Showing vulnerability to Jungkook felt like handing him a loaded weapon, giving him the upper hand, and that was something your pride wouldn’t allow. The realization settles over you, heavy and unavoidable. You’ve always felt something for him, haven’t you?

Finally, you take a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. “I… I don’t know.” you mutter. Hoseok watches you closely, his expression softening. “Well...” he says, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s time to figure it out. Because, Y/n, from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear that he definitely feels something for you.”

His words settle over you like a weight you’re not ready to carry. You sit up abruptly, the tension in your chest too much to ignore. “I’m going for a walk.” you suddenly announce, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the door of Hoseok’s cabin. “I need to clear my mind.”

Hoseok watches you with a soft smile, his hands pausing mid-fold. “Take your time.” he says gently, his tone laced with understanding.

You glance back at him briefly, catching the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but you’re too preoccupied to comment on it. There’s too much swirling in your head... Jungkook’s piercing stare, his infuriating words, the way these past few days have been so... good with him, the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to untangle since this whole fake dating arrangement began.

Hoseok chuckles softly as you open the door, his voice light but warm. “Don’t think too hard, Y/N. Sometimes the answer is way simpler than you think.” you hear him say as you take a moment to let his words sink in before closing the door.

Jungkook paces across his cabin, each step mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. The memory of your heated exchange claws at him, replaying over and over like a broken record. He feels suffocated by his own frustration, a tightness in his chest that refuses to let go. Why had he let himself snap at you like that? Why couldn’t he control himself when it mattered the most?

Seeing you with Yoongi had been a punch to the gut. He hated the way it made him feel so small, so envious, so... desperate. He hated that it wasn’t him making you laugh, teasing you until you blushed, earning that bright, genuine smile that lit up your face. Instead, he was stuck in his own head, too consumed by his emotions to step up and be the person he wanted to be for you.

His jaw clenches as the questions pile up, each one heavier than the last. Why wasn’t he the one by your side, making you happy? Why was Yoongi so easily able to draw you in when Jungkook himself always seemed to stumble and just make you mad?

His stomach churns with the realization that his feelings for you are far more complicated than he’s willing to admit. The guilt gnaws at him, sharp and unrelenting. He knows he crossed a line.

You’d approached him, likely with the intention of being nice and talking to him since he looked annoyed, and instead of meeting you halfway, he’d lashed out, letting his jealousy dictate his words. Bringing up Yoongi had been petty and uncalled for, and he hates himself for it.

Jungkook exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his hair. He feels the weight of the unease coursing through his veins, and it’s unbearable. He can’t sit here and let things fester. Not when he’s spent the past few days realizing how much your dynamic is shifting... how much he’s shifting.

Without another thought, he grabs his jacket, slipping it on as he strides to the door. The crisp night air hits his face as he steps outside, but it does little to cool the turmoil within him. He doesn’t know what exactly he’ll say to you when he finds you, but he knows he has to try.

Because the idea of letting things revert back to what you guys once were feels unbearable. He doesn’t want to go back to being the guy who only got your attention through arguments and war of words. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever this fragile, tentative thing between you is turning into.

Jungkook shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, determination fueling his every step. He knows he owes you an apology and more than that, he owes you honesty. He just hopes he hasn’t already pushed you too far away.

As he crosses the quiet, dew-kissed lawn, his steps falter when he suddenly spots you. There you are, sitting alone on a weathered bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the lamplight. The cool night air wraps around you as you gaze out into the vast expanse of the dark sky, your eyes tracing the faint silhouettes of the mountains in the distance.

He stops in his tracks, his chest tightening at the sight of you. Even from a distance, he notices the way your teeth gently tug at your lower lip, a habit he’s come to recognize when you’re lost in thought. There’s a stillness about you, a kind of quiet vulnerability that makes something in him ache.

Jungkook exhales slowly, preparing himself. His feet carry him forward before his mind can overthink it. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his nerves tangling tighter with each step. When he’s close enough to be heard but not startle you, he clears his throat softly. "Hey." he says, his voice gentler than he’d expected, almost unsure.

You glance up, your expression briefly startled before your features seem to soften. You don’t say anything immediately, and he hesitates, wondering if you’re going to ask him to leave. But you don’t... you just watch him, waiting for him to speak.

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, his gaze dropping momentarily before he forces himself to look at you again. His expression is uncharacteristically soft, a vulnerability shining through. "I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry." he begins, his voice low but steady. "For earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was out of line."

You don’t respond immediately, your eyes studying his face as the weight of his apology lingers between you. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

With a quiet sigh, you scoot over slightly on the bench, offering him a silent invitation. Jungkook hesitates for half a second before sitting down beside you, leaving just enough space to feel the tension in the air.

His eyes drift to the mountains, dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. "I don’t know why I said it." he admits after a pause, frustration evident in his tone. "I guess... I just couldn’t stand seeing you with Yoongi like that. It got to me."

You let his words settle, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. "But it shouldn’t get to you, Jungkook." you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. "We’re... we’re not together. I don’t want things to get complicated between us." You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Protecting yourself feels like the only option… you can’t risk letting him see how this fake relationship has started to feel real to you. It’s safer to pretend otherwise.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, but you see his hands clench slightly, resting on his knees. Your words cut deeper than you realize. The phrase not together grates on him, leaving an ache in his chest he doesn’t know how to ease.

He wants to tell you how wrong you are, how much he wishes this whole thing was real, but something about the way you said it makes him falter. Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and he’s just fooling himself.

“I know I shouldn’t have pulled you into something like this.” he finally says, his voice softer now, almost resigned. You glance at him, noticing the conflicted expression on his face, but before you can reply, your gaze shifts past him to a figure lurking in the distance.

Mrs. Lee stands a few feet away, partially hidden by the shadows, her head tilted slightly, clearly trying to catch the tail end of your ongoing conversation. Her posture screams suspicion, and your stomach twists in panic. You don’t think, you just act.

“I know this whole fake relatio—” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off abruptly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

The kiss isn’t calculated or delicate, it’s instinctual, an impulsive move to shut him up before Mrs. Lee hears something she shouldn’t. Your lips are warm against his, though neither of you move.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as his brain scrambles to catch up with what just happened. His heart hammers so loudly in his chest he’s certain you can hear it. For a second, the world tilts, his thoughts spinning in chaos.

But before he can even process it, you’re already pulling away. Your eyes dart past him, scanning the distance where Mrs. Lee once stood. You exhale softly when you realize she’s no longer there, most likely walking off with her suspicions unsatisfied.

“Fuck… that was... that was close.” you murmur, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper as your gaze finally locks with his. Your tone is almost too calm, too casual, as if the kiss hadn’t just turned his whole world upside down.

Jungkook just stares at you, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief, his lips still parted as if he’s trying to catch the remnants of something fleeting.

“What?” he mutters, the single word heavy with confusion and something raw. You exhale shakily, the weight of the moment crashing down on you as you realize the line you just crossed.

“I’m so sorry.” you begin, your voice faltering under his unwavering stare. “Mrs. Lee… she was eavesdropping. She was going to find out about us if you kept talking.” You explain.

His features shift instantly, the softness in his eyes hardening into something unreadable. It’s like watching a storm gather on the horizon, his emotions swirling, barely contained. You can almost see the exact moment realization hits him, the slight flinch in his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as the revelation bleeds into hurt.

“That’s… that’s why you kissed me?” His voice is low, trembling with disbelief and something sharper, something you can’t quite name. Your stomach twists with guilt, the weight of your actions clawing at you. “I mean… yeah.” you admit reluctantly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

The darkness in his eyes deepens, his brows knitting together as a bitter laugh escapes him. It’s a sound so uncharacteristic, so hollow, it sends a pang through your chest. “So it wasn’t because you wanted to. It was just to keep the… act alive.”

The accusation in his tone slices through you, leaving a sting you can’t ignore. You reach for words, for anything to soften the blow, but he’s already moving, standing abruptly from the bench. His hand rakes through his hair, the motion restless and frustrated.

“Got it.” he mutters, his voice clipped, barely restrained as he starts striding away. “Jungkook, wait—” you call after him, scrambling to your feet, trying to grab his arm.

He whirls around so suddenly, the force of his movement makes you instinctively step back, the air thickening between you in an instant. His eyes are wild, blazing with frustration, but beneath it, there's a rawness, a vulnerability that cuts through everything else.

"No, Y/n !!" he snaps, his voice so sharp it feels like it could slice the air between you. "One minute you're telling me how you don't want things to get complicated, and the next, you're..." he gestures between you, his hand trembling slightly. "You're kissing me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

“I panicked!” you retort, your voice coming out ragged, barely holding onto control. You feel your heart pounding in your throat. “Mrs. Lee was about to find out, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have a choice!”

His steps are measured, each one bringing him closer, his presence overwhelming, his energy suffocating. “You always have a choice.” he spits, his voice low but carrying a venom that stings deeper than any physical wound. “Don’t act like you did this for me. You did it because you were too terrified to face the consequences. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

The accusation hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his words, and something in you snaps. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady, but the anger bubbling inside threatens to break free. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook?” you bite out, each word coming harder than the last. “That I wanted to kiss you? That I enjoyed it? Would that make you feel better?”

He scoffs, the sound bitter and cold, and it hits deeper than anything he’s said so far. "Don’t twist this around on me." His gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “You can’t just cross a line like that and pretend it means nothing. You don’t get to do that. You can’t just—"

“And what about you?” you fire back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt, a sharp edge to your words now. “You’re the one who pulled me into this whole fake relationship to begin with… and now you’re mad because I’m going along with it? I’m sorry but this is on you, Jungkook!”

“On me?” His voice rises again, incredulity dripping from every syllable. “You could’ve stopped it at any time. The first night, the first second I lied to everyone… you could’ve told the truth. But you didn’t. You stayed silent. Like I said, you always have a choice.”

His words crash into you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. The anger and guilt mix into a swirling, suffocating knot in your chest. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you can feel is the sting of his words, and suddenly, you're fighting back, voice louder than before.

“Oh, please, Jungkook! I would’ve denied it if you hadn’t been constantly talking over me, pushing me to the corner. It was like you didn’t want me to deny it. So what the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re breathing heavily now, every word like a battle, your body trembling with the energy of it.

He stares at you for a moment, his chest heaving with each breath, his face still etched with fury, but there’s something else there now… a flicker of realization in his eyes, a shift that you can’t quite understand.

You speak again, the words coming out in a rushed, frantic burst. “Why did you even say it? What was the poi—"

“I couldn’t fucking stand Minhyuk flirting with you !!” His voice is rough, desperate, like he's been holding this back for far too long. The intensity of his confession strikes you like a thunderclap, and for a moment, you're too stunned to react.

Before you can say anything, he continues, voice raw with frustration. “If that creep wasn’t enough already, Mrs. Lee was going to set you up on another one of her stupid blind dates, and I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. I couldn’t..."

You can hear the crack in his voice, the raw emotion bubbling over like a dam about to break. It’s like all the months of built-up frustration and unspoken feelings are crashing down on you all at once, and you’re struggling to keep your footing. “It doesn’t make sense, Jungkook.” you start, your words trembling. “Why does it bother you so much—”

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, DAMN IT!!” He cuts you off again, but this time, his voice doesn’t crack with anger, it’s louder, firmer, like it’s the last thing he’ll say before everything changes. The words explode from his chest, raw and unguarded, and they hit you like a physical blow. They hang in the air, suspended in time, and the ringing silence that follows is deafening. The weight of what he’s just said presses down on you, suffocating, unrelenting.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you don’t know whether to speak, to run, to stay frozen in place, because the words he’s said are far heavier than anything you ever expected. He looks at you, his chest rising and falling, and after what feels like an eternity, he exhales a long, shuddering breath.

“There…” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but still edged with the intensity of what he’d just confessed. “There… you have it. I like you, Y/N. And just the thought of you with anyone else... it drives me crazy.”

The quietness that follows is unbearable, like everything around you has come to a grinding halt. All you can do is stand there, stunned, the truth of his words echoing in your mind, your heart pounding in your chest. He takes a step back, running a hand down his face as if trying to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter.

“I came here to apologize to you tonight…” he begins, his voice trembling with a raw vulnerability that feels like a blade twisting inside your chest. “Because I thought… I thought we were finally moving past all those childish fights and pointless arguments. I thought…” His voice falters, a breath catching in his throat as he exhales shakily. “I thought I was developing something real with you.”

The weight of his words presses into you, splitting you open in ways you didn’t think were possible. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes. The guilt, the truth, the mess you’ve made… everything hangs between you like an immovable barrier.

“I thought that throughout this retreat, I got to see so many more sides of you…” he continues, his words punctuated by a bitter laugh. “I thought I was getting closer to you, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong… because this is all just… a stupid fucking act to you.” His hand runs through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.

There’s a long, agonizing silence, thick and heavy, before he speaks again. His words are quieter, but they slice through the stillness. “You know what…” He suddenly pauses, looking away as if he’s trying to find a shred of clarity in the chaos. “You’re right. Maybe… maybe it was my fault after all. Getting into this stupid arrangement… What the hell was I even thinking?”

A bitter laugh escapes him then, hollow and dry, as he presses his lips together in a thin line. His gaze drifts upward to the dark sky, his eyes glistening with unshed emotion, the weight of everything he’s holding back palpable in the air. “Let’s just... pretend this… never fucking happened.” His words pass through you, sharp and final, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat.

You stand frozen, watching him turn away, each step he takes away from you feels like an echo in your chest. He walks farther and farther away, his figure slowly shrinking in the distance, and with each step, the world around you grows colder, more suffocating.

The next two days pass by in a blur, a haze of confusion and regret that clouds your every thought. Jungkook avoids you like the plague, and it's impossible not to notice the way he keeps his distance in group settings, his eyes carefully avoiding yours whenever they happen to meet.

You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as if everyone around you can sense something is off, but you're too wrapped up in your own head to care. Let them gossip. Let them wonder. It’s the least of your worries.

All you can think about is him. His words, his voice, the rawness in his confession. It replays over and over in your mind, and no matter how much you try to push it away, it lingers like a wound that won't heal. You're mad at yourself for letting things spiral this far, for letting it all get so out of hand. You should've said something, you tell yourself, but the truth is, you were terrified.

You still remember that night... the way your heart pounded in your chest when he confessed, how badly you wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that the shift hadn't been lost on you either. You wanted to tell him that this whole thing hadn't been a game for you, that your feelings had started to change, that you had started to care. But the look in his eyes, the vexation in his voice, it all stopped you from saying a single word.

In that moment, you froze. His frustration was palpable, and all you could do was stand there, staring at him, caught in the grip of everything he was throwing at you. His anger, his confusion, it filled the space between you like an impenetrable wall. You couldn't even find the courage to fight back, to tell him how much you had started to feel for him too. All you could do was listen to his words, to the weight of what he was saying, and let the silence stretch on longer than you ever intended.

And now here you are, stuck in this limbo, neither moving forward nor back, just existing in this awkward, painful space where every glance, every silence, feels like a reminder of what you couldn't say. You hate that he’s avoiding you, hate that you’re both walking around each other like ghosts in the same room, but you’re equally terrified of confronting it all head-on. What if he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he regrets what he said?

You want to go to him, to break this silence, to tell him everything you should have said that night. But you're not sure if you can bear the weight of the possibility that he might not want to hear it. So instead, you keep your distance, the quiet ache of unspoken words building inside you, while everything around you continues to move in ways you no longer understand.

You remain in your cabin, the sound of laughter and chatter from outside barely registering in your mind as everyone else gets ready for the very last event of this retreat, the talent show.

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as the buzz of excitement from your coworkers echoes through your cabin. But you don't care. You have no intention of participating, no desire to join in their festivities. The thought of putting on a smile, of pretending to be fine, feels exhausting. Instead, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself, cocooning yourself in the isolation you've come to crave.

You try to sleep, to let the darkness of the room envelop you and quiet the chaos inside your mind, but sleep feels elusive. Every time you close your eyes, your thoughts race back to him... his sharp words, the way he looked at you when he confessed, how he walked away as though nothing between you had ever mattered. The way he’s avoiding you now, as though you were a stranger he could never quite bring himself to face.

The thought of facing him again, of enduring another evening where he looks at you and then proceeds to ignore your very existence, is unbearable. You can’t take it. The coldness in his gaze, the way he acts like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible... it hurts in a way you hadn’t expected. You thought you could keep your feelings hidden, that you could keep pretending this was all just part of the act, but now, it’s all too real. It’s suffocating, and you’re left with nothing but the emptiness inside.

So you stay in your cabin, away from it all, away from him. All you want is for the world to quiet down, for the pain to stop, for the feeling of being ignored and invisible to disappear. But all you’re left with is the silence and the emptiness, a stark reminder that sometimes, it’s easier to hide than to face what’s right in front of you.

When you’re still trying hard to sleep, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n, I’m coming in.” It’s Hoseok, but you don’t answer anything, remaining rooted to your position. He’s the only one who’s aware of your current situation, so he’s giving you all the space you need. “Hey…” he softly says as the door opens and his head peeks inside. “The talent show is starting in a bit. You sure you don’t want to watch?” he asks. You remain quiet, hoping your silence is able to convey your answer. Hoseok sighs softly. “Well if you change your mind, I’ll be outside okay?” And just like that you hear the door click close, leaving you and your thoughts alone all over again.

The clock’s ticking grows louder as the evening stretches on, the music and cheers from the arena outside only serving to remind you of your isolation. You sigh, the weight of your feelings pressing against you. Maybe staying in isn’t helping. Maybe stepping out will offer you the distraction you desperately need.

With a quiet resolution, you slip on your sweater over your dress, trying to smooth your hair into some semblance of order. Your face feels empty, but you don’t have the energy to care. You step out slowly, your eyes instinctively drawn to the bustling arena in front of you. The crowd, the music, the laughter... it’s all happening so effortlessly around you.

You make your way over, crossing your arms and leaning against a nearby pillar. Suho is performing a magic act on stage, his tricks capturing the crowd's attention and their gasps of wonder. You watch, a soft smile forming despite yourself, the momentary distraction soothing some of the tension in your chest. It’s nice, you think, to see others enjoying themselves, even if you feel a world away from it all.

As Suho finishes his act, you feel the lightness of the atmosphere begin to seep in, and for a moment, you start to forget about everything weighing on your mind. But then, Mr. Park’s voice rings out across the arena, breaking your moment of peace.

“And next... we have Jeon Jungkook, and he’s going to sing a song for us!!”

A wave of surprise floods through you, but you can’t tear your eyes away as Jungkook steps onto the stage and the crowd instantly cheers for him. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, looking effortlessly casual but somehow more captivating than ever. His smile is small but sincere as he faces the crowd, and the lights around the stage shift, casting a soft, dreamy glow on him.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him, your chest tightening with something you can’t quite place. You know you shouldn’t feel this way, but the pull of his presence is undeniable. He doesn’t seem to notice you, too focused on the audience, but then the background music begins to play.

And you instantly recognize the song.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as the words hit you, sharp and tender all at once. You’ve heard this song before, countless times, but now… now it’s different. Every note seems to pull at something inside you, something you were fighting to keep buried. His voice is smooth, soft like honey, but there’s a rawness in it now, an emotion that you can’t ignore.

He closes his eyes as he sings, lost in the music, and for a moment, it’s as though the world around you has melted away. All that remains is him, his voice, and the lyrics that seem to cut right through you.

I gave you everything, baby, everything I had to give Girl, why would you push me away? Yeah Lost in confusion, like an illusion You know I'm used to making your day

The familiar words feel like they’ve been written just for this moment, for you. His voice carries the weight of the past, the bitter present between you two. And somehow, as he sings, it feels like he’s telling a story… the story of you both, wrapped in the lines of this song.

But that is the past now, we didn't last now I guess that this is meant to be Tell me, was it worth it? We were so perfect But, baby, I just want you to see

The words linger in the air, heavy with emotion, and your heart cracks with every line. The memories flash in your mind… every moment you shared, every smile, every laugh. But there’s a bitter sweetness in it too, a reminder of what was lost.

There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me Together through the storm

And then, as if the universe itself has shifted, you feel it. His gaze. It lands on you from across the stage, and for a split second, it feels like the world stops spinning. He doesn’t break his gaze, his eyes steady on yours, but there’s something different now. Something raw. He’s still singing, but now it feels like every word is meant for you.

His voice, still gentle but filled with so much emotion, seems to wrap around you, pulling you into a world where only the two of you exist. The crowd fades away, and all that matters is the connection between you two… his gaze, his voice, his presence. You try to breathe, but it feels like the air has thickened. The way he sings… There's nothing like us, echo in your chest, resonating with a truth that both stings and soothes at the same time.

The moment stretches, heavy and thick, until it feels almost unbearable. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact. He just keeps singing, as though the song itself is a confession, a bridge between what you were and what you could have been.

Once Jungkook steps off the stage, you rush back to your cabin, slamming the door behind you. You lean against it, your breath shallow and uneven. Slowly, you sink to the floor, your head falling onto your knees as the floodgates open. The tears come in waves, as if everything you've been holding in is finally breaking free. The pain in your chest is so sharp, so intense, that it almost feels like you can't breathe.

How did it all come to this? Why does it hurt so much? The confusion, the longing, the heartbreak... they all seem to crash down on you at once, overwhelming and relentless. You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in the ache, but you sob until your throat burns and your body trembles. Each sob feels like it’s tearing you apart.

You sit there, motionless, your head still resting on your knees, hugging yourself as if trying to hold onto something, anything. But nothing feels like it makes sense. You feel lost, like you're stranded in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to escape this unbearable pain that seems to consume you.

And just when you think you might drown in the silence of your own grief, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n? You asleep?” It’s Hoseok again. You sigh, your chest heavy, and rise to your feet. You wipe your face hastily, but it’s no use. The tears are still there, still fresh. You turn and open the door, bracing yourself for whatever he might say.

“Oh… hey.” Hoseok says, but his voice catches when he sees your tear-streaked face. His eyes widen with concern. “Oh my god, Y/n… are you okay?”

You sniffle, your gaze falling to the floor as you shake your head, unable to speak, the weight of everything too much. It’s all it takes for Hoseok to step inside and pull you into his arms. You don't resist. His embrace is warm, safe, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself sink into it, allowing the tears to fall once more. And this time, you don’t have to be alone in it.

Hoseok's voice is soft, but his words carry weight as he helps you to the edge of your bed, his arms steady and comforting around you as he sits down with you. He doesn't say anything at first, just holds you gently, allowing the silence to stretch between you two.

"I thought I’d check up on you since the talent show just got over." Hoseok finally speaks, his voice low and steady. He pauses for a moment, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I didn’t expect to find you in this state."

You don't say anything, still wrapped up in his embrace, unsure of how to answer. His words seem to echo in the quiet room, but you don’t know what to say. You feel like you're drowning, and yet all you can do is sit there, letting the tears subside, one breath at a time.

"Y/n…" Hoseok whispers your name, his voice filled with concern. He doesn’t push for an answer right away, giving you the space to simply exist in the comfort of his arms. But then, he continues, his voice carrying a soft but steady note of advice. "I know it hurts right now, but you can’t keep burying this inside. You’re only going to keep hurting yourself that way."

His words are gentle, but they cut deep. You remain still, not ready to face what he's saying, but somehow, you know he's right. You're just scared, scared of the vulnerability, the fear of rejection.

"You should try talking to Jungkook." Hoseok says softly. "Even if he’s not ready to listen, even if it feels like he won’t understand, it’s still worth a shot. You deserve to let him know how you feel."

You flinch at the mention of Jungkook’s name, the thought of approaching him so raw, so vulnerable, makes your chest tighten. But Hoseok isn’t done.

"Y/n, liking someone, falling in love... it’s never wrong. You can’t control how you feel, and you don’t have to hide it because it scares you. Love is messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s not something to be ashamed of. You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard."

A quiet sob escapes your lips, and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, not in a way that suffocates you, but with the warmth of someone who truly cares. Hoseok’s words sink in, each one cutting through the fog in your mind. As he holds you, stroking your hair gently, something inside of you shifts. His gentle advice, though simple, sparks a fire you didn’t even know was there. You feel a stir deep within you, a sudden surge of clarity that pushes aside the fear and doubt.

You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard. The words echo in your mind, over and over, like a mantra. And for the first time in what feels like forever, something inside of you stirs something powerful, something real.

You pull away from Hoseok slightly, your face still wet with tears but your heart feeling a little lighter. You take a deep breath, the weight in your chest now feeling more like anticipation than dread.

“I have to go.” you murmur to Hoseok, your voice shaking but determined. Hoseok looks at you, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Are… are you sure?"

You don’t answer at first, just look at him, eyes wide with sudden resolve. “I’m going to talk to him. I can’t keep running away from this.” Without another word, you stand up, the suddenness of it all making your head spin. Your feet move on their own accord, each step purposeful as you cross the room. Hoseok watches, his eyes full of silent support.

As you step out of your cabin, the empty arena and stage immediately catch your attention. Chairs are scattered about, and you scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook. Your feet start moving almost instinctively, the desire to find him overwhelming. You make your way to his cabin, but there's no response. A small part of you wonders if he’s ignoring you, but you push the thought aside, continuing your search around the resort grounds.

You check the rope bridge, wander through the rose garden, even visit the familiar bench where you once sat together, but there’s no sign of him. Your chest tightens, your heart thumping painfully with each turn, each empty corner. Desperation settles in as you run your fingers through your hair, trying to steady yourself.

And then, finally, you see him.

There he is, sitting in the hot tub, his back turned to you. You freeze in place for a moment, your eyes tracing the outline of his broad shoulders. His elbows rest casually on the rim of the tub, the soft steam rising from the water around him. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing behind him, your presence unnoticed in the quiet night.

For a long while, you just watch him, the sound of the water bubbling softly filling the silence between you. You feel a strange sense of both relief and anxiety. You’ve found him, but the distance between you feels insurmountable. He doesn’t know you’re here, doesn’t know the storm brewing in your chest.

You take a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage you can find. Without saying a word, you step forward, your heart hammering in your chest. Each step feels heavier than the last, and your hands grip the fabric of your dress, the tightness in your fists mirroring the anxiety bubbling inside you.

When you’re only a few feet away, you can’t hold back anymore. “Jungkook…” you call out, your voice trembling ever so slightly as it cuts through the soft sounds of the bubbling water.

His body stiffens instantly. The tense shift of his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You watch his back, his head slightly bowed, as if he’s trying to ignore your presence. The air between you thickens, the tension palpable as the sound of the water swirls around you, drowning out everything else.

You stand there, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, the sound of the bubbling water in the hot tub louder than your racing thoughts. Your hands tremble slightly, and your heart beats erratically as the words you're holding in fight to escape.

"Jungkook…" you call out again, your voice wavering, almost a desperate whisper. It feels like you’re trying to hold a thousand emotions together, but they’re spilling out of you, unstoppable. "I… I don’t even know where to begin, but I need you to hear me out... I really... really need you to just give me a chance... to explain myself."

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as if your very breath is tangled with everything unsaid. You can see him still not turning to face you, his back a wall, his silence deafening.

A pang of frustration courses through you, but beneath it, there’s something even more powerful... a deep longing, a desperate yearning. You’ve never felt this exposed, yet this desperate to make him understand.

With hesitant steps, you move around the edge of the hot tub, reaching the other side where you can finally see his face, heart racing in your chest as you inch closer. The blue light from the tub spills over the rim, casting soft shadows on his face, making his features seem almost ethereal.

The water ripples, reflecting fragments of his skin, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. He’s looking down, eyes shadowed, and his tongue absentmindedly tracing the piercings on his lip.

The sight of him, so close yet so distant, breaks something inside you. You swallow, fighting to keep the emotions in check, but it's no use. The tears that you’ve been holding back finally fall freely, slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to keep them in.

You take another shaky breath and walk a little closer, your heart pounding louder with every step, until you’re at the very edge of the hot tub. You hesitantly take a seat on the wet rim, opposite to where he's standing in the water. You can feel the warm steam of the boiling water near you, and a sigh escapes your lips as your gaze shifts to him again.

With trembling hands, you wipe away the fresh stream of tears, but they only seem to flow faster, as if your heart itself is breaking and you can no longer hold it together. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice falters, cracking with emotion.

"Are you… really going to ignore me?" you ask, the words feeling like cold metal against your tongue. The tremor in your voice betrays every ounce of control you’ve desperately tried to hold on to. It’s like the weight of your emotions spills out in that single sentence, and Jungkook, as if sensing the raw vulnerability in your tone, finally looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to stop.

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. His gaze, deep and intense, softens, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes... something like regret, guilt, perhaps even pain, as he takes in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His gaze flicks over the intricate trails of tears on your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the weight you’ve been carrying.

He doesn’t speak immediately, and for a second, you wonder if he’ll turn away again. But instead, he remains still, his expression unreadable yet so undeniably affected. Realizing this is your chance to finally speak, you begin.

"I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I… I was so scared… scared of how things had suddenly changed between us. But, Jungkook, I—" Your voice falters, and a sob escapes before you can stop it. You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat, but the tears continue to fall, relentless.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his chest when he sees the tears streaming down your face. It’s like a punch to the gut, and he feels it deep within himself. At that moment, he realizes just how much he despises seeing you cry, how every tear you shed breaks him in ways he can’t even put into words. He doesn’t want to see you like this... not hurt, not broken.

He swallows hard, his throat tight as guilt floods through him. The past two days have been an absolute nightmare for him. After confessing his feelings in the most chaotic, confusing way possible, all he could do was push you away, though every part of him screamed to reach out. Ignoring you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but in a twisted way, he convinced himself it was the only way to deal with everything that had changed between you two.

He thought it would make things easier, but instead, it only twisted the knife deeper, making him feel more lost than ever. You were the only person he wanted to talk to, the only person who could make him feel whole again and yet, ironically, you were also the one person he felt he couldn’t face.

His elbows shift off the rim of the hot tub, and with slow and steady steps inside the warm water, he makes his way towards the other end of the tub where you’re seated on the rim. "Hey..." he calls out softly, but you just can’t stop crying. The words he wants to say seem to get caught in his throat, as if he’s afraid to say the wrong thing, yet helpless to remain silent.

He rests his palms on the rim, right behind you, as you remain hunched, your face buried in your hands. You don’t acknowledge his presence immediately, still consumed by the storm of emotion inside you.

Before he can say another word, you're speaking again, your voice shaky and broken, each word heavy with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. "You don’t know how much it hurts, seeing you like this, seeing you… push me away when all I want is... to talk to you... to... to be with you." Your voice cracks as you try to gather yourself, but the tears just won’t stop.

"I’ve been holding this in for so long, because I thought if I kept quiet, things would get better, but they haven’t. They never will, unless I say this…" The silence that follows is suffocating, the words hanging in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. Jungkook’s expression softens, his gaze flickering with something almost unreadable, but the guilt is clear.

He watches you carefully, unable to tear his eyes away as you continue to break open before him. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to stop the flow of your confession. He knows, in this moment, that the only thing he can do is listen, because no matter how hard it is to hear, you need to speak your truth.

You take another shaky breath, finally moving your hands away from your face as you turn to look at him. He’s so much more closer now as he looks up at you from the hot tub.

"I care about you… I care about you so much, Jungkook. I think I’ve always cared, even when I didn’t know how to show it. And now, all I can do is watch you drift away, and I hate it. I hate how I made you think that I didn’t feel the same… that I didn’t want this. But I do. I want us.... and I so badly wanted our fake relationship to be… to be real.”

The sobs start coming again, stronger this time, making it harder to get the words out. "I like you. I like you so much. And it hurts to see you looking at me like I’m a stranger when all I’ve wanted was for you to understand that you mean so much more to me... you're not... not my rival.. not my enemy..."

You stop for a moment, trying to gather yourself. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in crashes over you like a wave, but you continue, your voice breaking as you speak. "I’m sorry if this is too much, if I’m saying all the wrong things, but I just… I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t stand this distance between us… especially knowing I’m the reason behind it. Please just… forgive me. It was never just an act to me… I swear."

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, your trembling fingers only making the tears blur more. Your stomach churns with the overwhelming weight of everything you’ve just poured out. The silence that follows feels like it stretches for miles, too heavy to bear, and you can't bring yourself to look at him.

Your eyes stay lowered, afraid to see the disappointment or confusion that you might find in his gaze. Afraid of the silence that might follow your confession.

But then, you feel a warmth against your back... his hand, gentle but firm, resting there. It startles you, but you don't move. He doesn't say anything, but you feel his presence growing stronger as he slowly guides your body to face him, carefully moving you on the rim of the hot tub.

Your legs dip into the water, the warmth of it momentarily soothing the aching in your chest, but the heat of the moment, the proximity between you and Jungkook, is all consuming.

You look down at him, still unsure of what’s happening, but then you feel him tug you forward, ever so gently, until your body slips off the rim and is immersed in the boiling water. The warmth of the water seems to fade in comparison to the heat that’s building between you both.

Your heart races, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, but the moment you feel his hands settle around your waist, your breath catches. He’s holding you, steadying you, inching you closer until you’re completely within his space.

Your mind spins as you try to process what’s happening. You can’t decide if you should pull away or lean into him, but the way he holds you…so carefully, yet with a quiet urgency, makes you stay. The water bubbles around you both, but the world around you feels so distant. It’s just him and you in this moment. You try to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest only tightens.

"Jungkook..." you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His gaze softens, his small smile lingering as he listens, his gaze never leaving your face. His eyes twitch and his heart breaks as he notices the tears on your cheeks, but finally being in this moment has him feeling lighter.

He lets out a light laugh, his tone shifting to a teasing one, "Took you long enough." his smile widening a little more. But then, as if to lighten the mood, his tone changes, filled with playful curiosity, "Is someone watching us right now, or are you being for real?"

The shift in his tone, the way he jokes despite everything that’s been said, catches you off guard. But despite the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you, a small giggle escapes your lips, the sound strange but freeing in the silence that had weighed so heavily before. You wipe your face again, but this time, it’s not just tears... there’s a small trace of relief, of hope.

"I don’t care if anyone's watching or not..." you whisper, the weight of your confession finally slipping off your shoulders. And then, as if you’re no longer holding anything back, you take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you continue. "But Jungkook, I…" You falter for just a moment, unsure of how to let this truth unfold.

His hands tug you closer in the water, the intimacy of the gesture settling within you, making your heart beat faster.

You can feel his body so close to yours, your dress still clinging to your skin under the rippling surface of the warm water, but you shove the thought aside. None of it matters anymore... not the water, not the fact that you're in the hot tub with your clothes still on. All that matters is the words you’re finally ready to say.

"I like you." you whisper softly, each word feeling like it holds all the emotions you’ve kept hidden for so long. "I like you... so much. And truthfully, these feelings aren’t new. I think a part of me has always liked you this way."

The confession slips out so naturally, but it feels like a weight has been lifted. You’ve finally said what’s been buried deep inside you, what you've struggled with for so long, with so much resolve and confidence. And as Jungkook listens, the silence between you now feels different.... lighter, warmer, almost like a promise in itself.

Jungkook smiles, his heart leaping in his chest. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly, his voice soft, like he needs you to say it all again. You nod frantically, inching closer in the water as you feel his form against yours. “I do. I mean every word. And if I’ve ruined everything between us, I’m so sorry. But I had to tell you, even if it changes nothing.”

For a moment, he just stares down at you, the reflection of the water reflecting in his dark eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything...” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your waist. “If anything, I’ve been the one ruining it by staying away when all I wanted was to be close to you.”

Your breath hitches as he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared me too, you know....” he pauses, the bubbling sound of the water filling the air again. “I wasn’t sure if what I felt for you was too much, too soon. But now I know… it’s never too much.... You’re never too much.”

As his forehead rests against yours, your eyes remain closed as you intently listen to him as a small smile tugs your trembling lips. "So... what now?" you ask quietly.

You feel him pull away just a little and you notice how his lips curve into a small, tender smile. “Now, we stop running... we stop this fake relationship and we get our shits together.” His laugh escapes at the end, low and warm, and you can’t help but giggle through the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“So no more acts?” you tease gently as you rest your palms against his bare chest. “No more acts.” he promises, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with quiet determination and a depth of affection that leaves you breathless.

The moment stretches, heavy with an unspoken tension, until Jungkook leans in slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. He hesitates, as if searching for permission, and you feel your breath catch. Slowly, you close the gap yourself, and the moment your lips meet, it's like you've wanted nothing more than this.

His kiss is soft at first, tentative, like a question he’s finally found the courage to ask. The warmth of it washes over you, melting every ounce of fear and hesitation. You lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as he pulls you closer, his grip on your waist firm and steady.

When the kiss deepens, it’s unhurried and achingly tender, like he’s trying to pour every unsaid word and feeling into it. His wet hand moves to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as if to soothe the tears that still linger there.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability mixed with relief.

“I don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” he admits, his voice low and raspy, barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the water. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, search yours as if you hold the answer to every question he’s ever been afraid to ask. His lips curve into a soft, almost bashful smile. “Maybe forever.” he adds.

His words wash over you like the warm water surrounding you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. Your heart flips, and for the first time, it feels like all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. A small, shy smile spreads across your face as your fingers trace the line of his jaw, the motion as delicate as the emotions coursing through you.

“You’re so cute.” you murmur, your palm now resting on his cheek. He lets out a soft laugh, the sound vibrating through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. “No, you’re the cute one.” he counters, his tone playful but tender.

Before you can reply, his hands shift, traveling from your waist to the back of your thighs. In one swift, fluid motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sudden movement steals your breath, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you’re filled with a warmth that melts away any lingering hesitations.

A giggle escapes your lips, light and free, breaking through the tension like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. You're amused by his actions, but somehow, it all feels undeniably right. “There’s nothing like you, I swear.” you murmur, your laughter softening as your gaze locks onto his. Your eyes shine with an unspoken joy, the weight of your emotions finally finding their voice.

His hands tighten their grip, anchoring you to him as though letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to entertain. “Well...” he says, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity that leaves you breathless. “There’s nothing like us.”

And in that moment, you know he’s right. The journey to this point had been anything but easy... regular arguments, constant disagreements, misunderstandings that felt impossible to untangle and of course, a fake relationship. But somewhere in the chaos, you’d found something real. Something worth fighting for.

He tilts his head, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek with a reverence that makes your heart stutter. “I didn’t think I could let myself feel like this for someone.” he whispers. “But you... you’re everything I didn’t know I needed. You’re the person who makes everything make sense.” he smiles.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, not from pain or fear, but from the overwhelming joy of being seen, truly seen.

Somehow, his lips find yours again, slow and soft, the kiss carrying the weight of everything unspoken. It’s not rushed or desperate, it’s steady and sure, a promise of the future you’ll build together. Each moment feels endless, as if time itself has paused to honor the love blooming between you.

When you finally pull away, the world feels lighter, the air filled with possibility. “We’ve come a long way.” you say, wonder threading through your voice. His smile turns mischievous, his eyebrow quirking as his playful side reemerges. “From glaring at each other during meetings and passing snarky comments every 3 seconds... to this?” he teases, his laughter soft and contagious.

You roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth lift in a smile. “I still think you’re insufferable sometimes.” you shrug.

“And I still think you’re stubborn.” he shoots back, his grin widening as he hugs your waist tighter. “But honestly, I think I can live with that.” you reply, your voice softening as your hand brushes against his nape, your touch tender.

“Good.” he whispers, pulling you into a warm embrace, the water rippling gently around you both. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

my masterlist <3

[writingwisterias]

Do you think you could write pornstar!leon x reader? I’m not in any rush, I just needed to get this idea out

I was thinking older Leon (40s-60s) x college student reader (early 20s at the youngest)

He’s been retired for quite a while, but you stumbled onto his old videos somehow, and you’re obsessed with them. I’m imagining he did them when he was a little older for one reason or another but he stopped. Maybe an erectile problem or he got bored of it. Or something entirely different, it’s up to you.

Then you meet him somehow, one thing leads to another and you’re fucking your favorite ex-pornstar <3

I don’t have anything else in mind, maybe a little good old cunnilingus and something about how the guys your age don’t know how to treat someone right. I don’t know I just needed to share this.

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! I really hope you enjoy because I've had the idea for so long and you have provided the best opportunity for it!!

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Basically Porn, Dom Leon, Age-Gap, Sub Reader, Drinking, Rough sex, Light Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Filming, Unprotected Sex, Masturbation, Erectile dysfunction, implied sex addicts Words: 4.3k

Thank you Two n Eva for letting me ramble constantly again...and Shy for beta readings ily all (ignore me adding tags when I remember them it's late for me shh)

It shouldn't be this hard. It’s not like he hasn’t done it a thousand times already. The method was simple, he could even use his own videos for reference if he wanted to. Leon squeezed the base yet again, willing the damn thing to even just twitch. It didn’t matter what he did anymore, his days of pleasure seemed to come to an end. The viagra that remained unopened in the bedside table was becoming tempting but that was a last resort, a pathetic one at that. It made him feel old to admit defeat like he’s lost his glory days.

Leon squeezed the base again, the pads of his fingers running along his sack. The stimulation gave him something, a small twitch barely noticeable with his dick in his tight grip. Yet, it was something, the only proof that it still had some energy left in the damn thing. 

The tip was pink and sad staring at him from where he looked down on it. No longer was it that angry red colour, spewing out dribbles of pre cum eagerly. That’s why the fans liked him, he was messy. If only they could see him now, see this pathetic sight. His page remained bare, the last video posted almost a year ago now. 

Not that it mattered, he had enough money from the ones he made because instead of turning it into some production he kept the shitty quality of his phone as it seemed enough for the majority. Well, at least he’s never read any complaint about it. 

One more try, that’s what he would do, before either giving up or going for that drawer. His thumb brushed over the tip before he rolled it back. The roughness of his thumb is the perfect contrast to the sensitive skin. He could feel the slick form, a pathetic watery substance that would be no good for a film. With his hand still doing the motion Leon looked to the ceiling with a sigh, something that he did out of boredom didn’t even help him now. Years of abusing the rush of pleasure and his multiple orgasms a night have finally stabbed him in the back. His eyes flicked to the tv, the pictures lighting up the dark room. Never stopping the work on his flaccid cock as he prayed eventually it might spring to life. 

Surely it was unhealthy to be obsessed with a guy like this, to watch the shitty pornhub videos he posted nearly every night like they were some bedtime programme. The cumshots, whimpers and moans all send shockwaves down to your core, the puffy nerve working quickly to ensure you know it's neediness. His face card was lethal, hair falling over his eyes that were lined with a dark look. It was all too tempting…arousing. Every night you found yourself in the same position, legs spread as wide as you could get them as your fingers circled your clit in teasingly slow motions whilst you watched the video on your laptop. Your pussy stuffed with the largest dildo you could find online. Always ensuring that you match the same pace of his actions. He never said anything, his groans were enough for you. The deep raspy tone was engraved in your every thought at this point, you were surprised it hadn’t turned into your inner monologue. 

You watched his dick twitch in his hands, his hips buckling slightly, all signs that you had learnt was him nearing his end. You worked harder, moving the dildo deeper and slower just like his hips were moving. A punishing brutal pace with the soul goal of his own pleasure. The coil tightened, a thread ready to snap as the minutes of the videos counted down. 

How many times have you done it tonight? 

You poor clit abused, white hot pleasure searing through your system as your nerves set on fire. Your thighs clamping around both of your hands as you orgasm. The slick flooding out from between your fingers as your brain settles into the right mode to sleep. The fuzziness lingering like a drug. An addiction. 

You watched with half-closed eyes and short breaths as he showed off the mess he made across the expanse of his abs. Giving off a subtle wink to the camera before it finally stopped. The date of the post made you frown, it was the most recent one…posted almost a year ago. You couldn’t help the thought’s circling about his life now. Wondering if he would ever post again. Maybe he has kids now, a wife, someone to spoil all the money he earned on.

The parasocial relationship you had formed with him was wrong and a stupid thing to cling onto. You were sure to be the only activity on his page anymore; there was definitely no one else was this insane to choose only one pornstar to get off to. Let alone the one who hasn’t posted anything recently. His videos were always more like a home video, shitty quality, barely audible, it really wouldn’t surprise you if he filmed them on a camcorder. 

You weren’t even sure if any other dick would get you off at this point – not that you had anything other than the dildo to use. Though, if you did manage to bring someone home, you suppose you could beg for them to quiet as you closed your eyes to imagine him. The thought caused embarrassment to settle in your stomach, the sex addict he had made you become was shameful at least that's what you had been raised to believe. 

A woman shouldn’t be this in tune and free with her sexual side, it was always wrong according to your parents. Your sexuality was something for a man to explore and take only for himself. It wasn’t for you, it shouldn’t be pleasurable for you. If your friends knew, they would also shame you for this. They didn’t need anymore fuel for how lonely you were, your search history would surely traumatise them. 

Your eyes flicked down to the corner of your laptop, blinking away the tears that lingered in your waterline, to see the time. 30 minutes to get ready before you leave for drinks with your friends. To see the indie rock band that was playing tonight, your friend's boyfriend, the lead singer. You had no idea why that meant you had to go, though the promise of their bar tab convinced you. There was no hope in going home with someone, never was anymore. All the old fucks that lined the seats of that took away the eyecandy you were looking for and if you did find them…well even you knew that you deserved better than some small dick looking for a quicky.  

Your outfit was simple and comfortable. The jeans hugging you perfectly, the top low cut enough to show off the girls that were definitely co-operating tonight for a change. Their perkiness was evident in every step you took towards the bar, holding your arms around yourself to fight off the lingering cold in the air. You wafted through the cloud of second hand smoke, breathing the scent in deeply allowing it to settle in your lungs. Old habits never strayed too far from reach you suppose. 

The music vibrated through the floor, bodies bumping into as you made your way to the stage. Your friend greeted you with a large smile, her eyes sparkling with joy as she glanced back at her boyfriend. Their relationship was sweet, full of honeymoon type of love and appreciation. You envied them, that somehow in this crap world they managed to find a sweet relationship. You weren’t built for that, not when you were here at this moment and all you could think about was returning home and dealing with the pulsing need in your underwear. 

A drink was shoved in your hand, one from her ‘to loosen you up a bit’ apparently. You looked too tense, ridgid for someone that was here to have fun and enjoy the moment. The neat whiskey burned on the way down, settling somewhere deep in your chest. It warmed you, distracted you; both were welcomed in this scenario. “Is everything alright tonight? You’re like a wooden doll” Your friend laughed as she walked you over to the bar. Her grip was at least grounding, stopping the internal fire blazing inside you. “Yeah I’m good, just a rough day” 

“Good job you’re here then” she laughed, handing you another drink. You watched the amber liquid swirl, the condensation running down the sides of glass reminding you too much of him. Of the scenes you have watched over and over again. She waved her hand in front of your face, breaking the trance you had on the droplets. “Are you sure you are okay?” 

How could you tell her that you were itching to return home? To lay in your soft sheets and watch him. Your skin burned – desire running through you constantly. You couldn’t do anything about it, everything reminded you of him. 

“Drink to forget?” You responded, smiling weakly at your friend. Hers only grew a wild look in her eye before calling a round of shots, bringing you into a side hug whilst giggling. It definitely worked. Your body felt lighter, happier. That burning desire now muted until you at least got home. Your hips swaying with hers, smiles and laughter filling the bubble you had formed around yourselves.

It was your turn to collect the next round of drinks, your shoes dragged across the floor, boots scuffing against the things that had fallen out of people's pockets. Barely avoiding people's elbows as you passed them. You attempted to avoid looking at the couples pressed against the walls, their lips locking onto each other in a heated exchange of passion. Thankfully their moans are muted by the volume of the guitar. 

Yet, you froze in place as your eyes fell upon the slumped figure at the bar. You tried blinking away the drunken haze, the one that blurred with the lights of the bar whilst you observed every curve of the muscle he bore, the nose bridge…hands wrapped around the beer bottle. It couldn’t be. No you weren’t that unlucky and lucky at the same time. Not when you were finally forgetting about him tonight, about the fantasies and daydreams over what he would be like. 

His head lifted as his eyes scanned over the pool of people dancing, the flashing lights blurring their movements. Except for yours because you were still stationary like an idiot, looking right at him. He observed your form as you finally finished the journey to the bar and ordered a large cocktail topped with ice and a glazed cherry. Leon's eyes ran over your chest as you leant against the bar. Your chest was moving slowly and deeply like you were trying to calm yourself. Your nails are scratching at the rings of alcohol that were left on it that your focus now remained on. He couldn’t approach you like he would have in the past, the obvious age gap didn’t bother him. Your youthful skin would feel heavenly under his calloused fingertips. No, the lack of the twitch in his trousers as he perved on you was a reminder that after his failed attempt earlier to get this shit to work before he gave up and dragged himself here. At least the band playing tonight was actually decent. For once.

He never looked away, not once. Not even as people filtered in front of his line of sight. Everytime you allowed your eyes to drift over to him, he was still watching; taking slow sips of the beer he was nursing. The temperature of the drink cooled your skin as you took it from the bartender, savouring the liquid encouragement as you sipped on it. The cherry cola cocktail settled better than the whiskey you had drank earlier. It was dangerous mixing your drinks, each drink adding to the tipsy haze you bore. The cherry was sweet as you slipped it into your mouth. The vodka infused with it makes you smile. 

Leon couldn’t pull his eyes away if he wanted to, not as you drank. Your neck looked perfect as you extended it whilst lifting the glass, your lips curving into a smile as you chewed on the alcoholic cherry. He licked his lips as he watched, almost trying to imagine which part of your neck would be the most sensitive spot to suck one. Which spot would force you to sing perfectly to him? Would it taste like sweat and perfume as he kissed your neck? Or remain flavorless like all the girls he was with before. 

You smiled when your eyes finally met again, a big toothy grin that proudly displayed the cherry stem from between your lips. 

Perfectly tied. 

It was only then he felt the throb, the one he's craved to feel for over a year. His cock quickly worked its way to a semi as he watched you saunter over. Your perfume filled his senses as you slid into the chair next to him. His suspicions on what you would taste like as it smelled expensive. Moving to sit with him was a bold move on your behalf but with the liquid encouragement flowing through your system you just decided to run with it. If this worked, you would be a fool to waste this chance. You simply place the stem on the bar in front of him, now glaringly obvious you were skilled with your tongue. 

“Where did you learn how to do that?” He chuckled. His blue eyes now bore that dark look underneath the strands of hair that fell over his face. Leon leaned back in the stool, his chest turned towards you. The shirt was tight, straining against him as he moved showcasing everything you knew lies beneath. “Research, thought it would be a useful skill to learn” You teased, your body subconsciously leaning towards him. His deep musk hit your senses, the linger smell of the beer in the air he exhaled. It was intoxicating, just as you imagined it would be. 

“You always do this?” He asked again, the green bottle putting some distance between the two of you as he sipped on it again. The condensation ran over his fingers as he raised it. Leon smirked against the rim of the bottle as he watched your eyes flick over his hand. “Only with guys that eye fuck me across the bar” You retorted, blinking slightly as you looked back towards his eyes. He hummed deeply, considering his next actions which were largely influenced by the throb of his cock. “How often does that happen?” 

“Calling me pretty?” 

Leon chuckled, finally leaning forward into your space. His hand landed on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “I’d be lying if I said you weren’t” 

You scanned his face, breath faltering at his closeness. Everything faded to the background, you forgot where you were, why you were here. All gone as you savoured the addiction of his smell, the curve of his features now they were close enough. You wanted to whimper his name, kiss his lips until they puffed up more. Leon smiled as your tongue darted out between your lips, licking them slightly. Your saliva creates the perfect gloss across them, making them even more tempting. 

As soon as your lips met you melted. Your hands found the inner curve of his thigh as you moved closer, leaning into him for support. The passion was addictive as the kiss grew heated, his touch set you on fire as his hand cupped your jaw possessively. When he finally pulled away, he laughed as you chased after him. “Your place or mine?” 

“Yours” 

His hand was larger than yours as he pulled you along with him out of the bar. The cloud of smoke greeted you again, settling deeply in your system as you both waited for the cab. His lips were upon you again, chasing the growing erection in his trousers. The one that was now becoming painfully hard, not that he would argue. He grinned into your lips, held you closer letting you feel it against your stomach. Feel the want, need, hunger he had for you. 

The cab ride continued the heated exchange and wandering hands as he cupped your body, fingers rubbing over your peaked nipples through the fabric of your shirt. You almost felt bad for the driver…almost. Never would you have expected him to be so needy. To seem like he wanted this just as much as you. Not with his extensive collection of media anyway, surely you were just another fuck and you should be pawning over him more than he was over you. 

The door slammed shut behind the two of you, both immediately toeing off your shoes without breaking the kiss. He leads you further inside, his hands stripping clothes like a trail. Leading all the way to the infamous room, the bed with sheets that smelled like him. That collected everything he proudly showed off in his media. He was painfully hard now, his cock tenting obviously in his underwear as he pushed you on the edge of the bed. 

Leon’s cheeks were flushed, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. The black lace that decorated your body, hiding the things he wanted to taste and feel the most from view. You were magic, a drug to him. Lust finally only filled his senses as his cock twitched against the fabric. No longer was it pathetic and weak like earlier. Fuck he felt great, alive again…

You removed your bra, displaying the perfect peaks to him as you stretched your arms above your chest. He licked his lips, watching them bounce with your movements. Grinning as you laid back against the bed, lifting your hips to remove the underwear that covered your sex. Proudly displaying the weeping mess to him, as a juicy dessert for him to devour if he pleased. 

The whine that left your lips was embarrassing as he pulled his boxers down. You were greeted with a live viewing of his leaking tip, the substance no longer that pathetic watery mess he produced recently. You finally got him working again. You moved up the bed as he hovered over you, smiling as you were surrounded by every sense of him. The giddiness of your dreams peaking through. As he began to rub his cock through the wetness of your folds you couldn’t help but moan. The syllables of his name were drawn out as he teased your clit with his tip. 

But he hadn’t told you his name. 

His hands grasped your cheeks tightly, bringing your eyes back to him with a widened stare. “What did you say?” He demanded. You looked up at him dumbfounded, your brain scrambling for an excuse that would stop the flood of embarrassment. “How do you know my name?” He continued, his grip loosening as he stared down at you. His cock twitching at your entrance. It was all too arousing. 

“Y-your videos…” You sputtered out, hips pathetically lifting from the bed to continue the feeling of his movements earlier. Your stomach tightening as a sly grin began to form on his face. “What a little whore I’ve found…a fan of mine hm? Wanted to get a feel of this?” 

He emphasised the question by notching his tip at your entrance, feeling the tight hole clench and twitch around it. “Y-yes” You admitted, eyes never leaving him. Leon pulled back, his thighs moving underneath yours as he reached over for his phone. Left abandoned on the side earlier in the night. It didn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. The extensive list of his filmography highlighting your features as he turned the device towards you. “Which ones are your favourite then, sweetheart?” He chuckled. 

The question was a hard one to answer if it had been asked by anyone in general, but now he was asking it? You felt the pressure, the shame of having to admit which one you touched yourself to the most, the one that made you the wettest. “This one” You whispered, clicking on it. Only to then be met with the shlick sounds of him rubbing himself. The tip appeared and disappeared between his fists in a rapid motion, unlike the speed he was now teasing you with. “You liked watching me get myself off, pumping this hard throbbing cock towards the camera?” 

You responded with a nod, hiding your features in the bedding beside you. No he wouldn’t let you do that. Not when his cock was practically screaming to be sheathed inside your warmth. To feel your perfectly aroused pussy throb around him. He stopped his movements, the sound of the video barely audible over your panting. 

Leon gripped at your face again, guiding you to look at him. “Such a dirty girl you are” He teased as he finally pressed himself into you. His own noises became pathetic whimpers as he finally felt himself be surrounded by his addiction, finally giving into the craving after his body forced him to go cold turkey from. He didn’t need the meds that still lied in the drawer next to you, not when your perky breasts moved against his chest. The nipples peaked and sensitive as the movements forced moans out of you. His name was heaven on your lips, the perfect melody. 

You didn’t notice that Leon had now leaned back again, not when he was assaulting you with the perfect amount of pleasure. His hips moving in a slow grind, hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. There was no point holding back your moans, not when you felt his cock throb inside you at every one. You felt the puffy vein you always wanted to trace with your tongue running along inside you, his cock barely existing before he drove it back.Then you heard the beep of his phone camera recording and his deep chuckle. 

“What a lucky fan you are” he spoke, the camera aimed at the action of him entering and leaving. 

“Be a good girl and hold this steady, yeah?” He instructed, angling the camera in your hands for the perfect view of him drilling into you. The change of pace was intense with how sudden it was, the rhythm soon becoming the perfect thing you needed as the coil quickly tightened up. However, Leon wasn’t aiming for your release, only his own. You began to move against him, squirming away as you lingered on the edge of overstimulation. 

“Hold it steady now” 

Leon groaned at your whine, at each clench you lovingly offered him. His hand held yours, angling the camera back at the money shot where his cock drove into you. Removing his cock only once to circle your clit with the tip. Finally now angry and red again for the camera, weeping his pre all over your untouched skin. He was making a mess of you, a glorious one. The pleasure was perfect as he chased his own. His hips moved faster and faster until they became a bruising pace.

He looked perfectly like this, hovering about you. It was everything you ever imagined and thought of during the day. His eyes remained screwed shut as he took in what he craved. “Fucking perfect” he grunted. He never spoke in his videos, only producing his grunts and moans. This was a first…a first for a lot of things. 

The most important one being his first orgasm in a year. He never released he needed a younger pussy, a perfectly neat one for him to abuse and ruin with the size of him. To mould it for only him and no one else. He sucked against your skin, nipping at your breasts, releasing them with a loud pop. “Fucking hell…” 

You felt his hips buck harshly, a groan leaving his lips…the signs of his release. You moaned his name again as his finger toyed with your clit. The muscles of your tights twitching as you finally orgasmed with a desperate whine. You felt like you were on cloud nine, with the added tipsiness of the bar earlier. Leon continued to assault you through it, the fuzziness of the evening blending together as all his blood rushed south. He pulled out of you, aiming his cock towards the phone and was still angled at the action. With a few harsh pumps, his load came spurting out coating your body in his translucent substance. 

Your chests heaved as you stared at each other with lust blown eyes. The post orgasm status settling in. Regret from either of you nowhere to be found, only the neediness and desire for another round. 

It wasn’t until a few days later you got the text from him. Opting to not contact him first in fear of looking even more like a crazed fan. Despite the fact he wanted to keep in contact. You must have been a pretty good fuck then. The thought offered a light ego boost for a few days at least. To Leon you were perfect, his cock constantly throbbing to life now he had the crappy video on his phone but he wasn’t selfish. It was only fair that you got to see your side of the action, to witness the pornographic moment of that night. Which you helped create. 

‘Did you see the video?’ 

Confused, you checked his page, waiting for the small circle to stop spinning in the corner of your laptop. The title made you blush, the throbbing need that had been satiated for the past few days rushing back quickly. 

SHY FREAK GETS FUCKED BY HER IDOL 

[sincerelyneo]

no control | l.jn

“i can't contain this anymore, i'm all yours i've got no control”

💿now playing: no control by one direction

❯ summary: The guy sitting at the bar next to you seems pretty smitten - and Jeno hates it. He wants to be the one making you blush…or more accurately, scream his name.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends with benefits

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), jealousy, arguing, wall sex, swearing, back scratching/marking?, possessiveness, public sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, slight begging, a bit angsty, porn with feelings, literally just jeno being petty and jealous.

Jeno hates to admit it, but Mark was right. Casual, no-strings-attached sex does in fact suck. And God does he know it. It’s hard to forget when his friends keep bringing you up.

“Who’s she talking to?” Renjun asks.

Jisung replies with a simple shrug before Chenle chimes in with a quick, “I don’t know, haven’t seen him before.”

Him. Jeno feels that pronoun hit harder than expected, but he forces himself to keep cool. He doesn’t turn around to see who’s got your attention, even though every fiber of his being screams and begs for him to look.

His spying friends keep giggling amongst themselves as they sit on the stools at the bar. But it wasn’t until Renjun throws back the last of his whiskey and says: “He looks pretty into her.” That Jeno’s gaze is forced to find you.

Jeno’s too proud to admit it but he finds you instantly, you’re like a magnet, a force that he’s drawn to. And truthfully, he considers it a talent that he can seek you out of a crowd in seconds.

There you are, with some guy. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy that, from what he could see from the side of his head, was probably good-looking. The good-looking ones always liked to try and talk to you.

Not that it matters, Jeno reminds himself, dragging his eyes away from you for his own sake. You hadn’t come to this party with him; he never even asked you. He agreed to keep this casual. You could spend your time with whoever you damn well pleased.

Even if that wasn’t him. And even if that’s a bitter pill for him to swallow. 

“Leave him alone guys,” Jisung finally speaks up. “They’re probably just talking. Besides aren’t you staying over at Y/N’s tonight anyway Jen?” He asked. 

Jeno takes his eyes off you for a second to look at his friends, he’s thankful for the reminder that he was supposed to be coming over to your place tonight. But now his mind is racing. Maybe you would change your mind, ditching him to hang out with that good-looking man instead.

You’re not like that, he tells himself. While you hadn’t attended the party with him, you had promised to spend the night with him, and you weren’t one to break promises. Besides, you didn’t bring strangers you just met home, either. He had nothing to worry about.

Except…what if he did?

When he dared to glance over to the last spot he had seen you across the lavish bar, he wasn’t expecting to still find you there. Surely, you would’ve found an opening to excuse yourself and re-join the friends you’d arrived with, but there you were. Still talking to that asshole. Smiling at him. Enjoying yourself.

Maybe it was just the whiskey talking, but Jeno felt like he was being replaced as if he was across the world and not merely across the room. Because it had been well over half an hour since he had first seen them together. And who knew how long you two had been talking before he or his friends even noticed?

Jeno doesn’t like this feeling. So he orders another drink.

He tries to ignore you – tries to focus on his friends but they keep mentioning it. Mentioning you. Which makes it so damn difficult to stop his eyes from sliding over, and noticing every little detail about you. 

The short dress that had ridden up from where you’d sat down and crossed your legs, showing off more than enough of your toned thighs. The deep black of it suited you, and not just because it was Jeno’s favourite colour, but because it complemented the tumble of hair falling over your shoulder. You looked like a goddess, untouchable. Especially when you smile. God, he loves when you smile. 

Just not when he’s not the one doing it. He should be the only one to make you laugh, to make you feel more relaxed at a party. Because he knows you, all the little things and your quirks.

But not once did you glance his way; and he’s fully aware of that because Jeno has definitely been staring. You’re ignoring him, and he hates it. So fucking much.

Maybe the alchohol was catching up to him, finally settling into his bloodstream and mixing dangerously with his jealous streak because he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he has to do something. 

Impulsively, Jeno abandons the conversation he had already half checked out of with his friends, and doesn’t waste a second marching over to you and the man. Ideally, Jeno wanted you to be thrilled to have him sweep you away, but when he arrived at the booth you and him had been sitting at, Jeno sees your eyes flash with an undeniable ‘what the fuck are you doing over here?’

“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Jeno greets you charmingly, sliding right into the booth on your side without an invitation, blatantly interrupting.

“Hi, Jeno,” you reply, keeping your tone polite despite not moving to give him more room.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” It hasn’t. “I thought I’d get you a drink and we could catch up?”

Jeno’s attempt to get you away is feeble, but it’s not exactly like he had enough time to devise a good plan. He was being impulsive, jealous, reckless – acting on instinct and he instinct was telling him that he need you, by his side. 

“Maybe later, yeah Jen?”.

“Why? You having too much fun already?” he asks, which was rather a loaded question, considering you had company sitting right across from you. 

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you emphasise a little more than necessary, glancing at the brunette across the table and playfully rolling your eyes. It had the man smiling in understanding, which was quick to piss Jeno off. 

“Really?” he said flatly. “You don’t look it.”

“Maybe you don’t know what I look like when I’m having fun.”

“I think I know better than most.”

That’s when Jeno squeezes your knee, and you want to disagree, but you couldn’t. Because Jeno knew, alright. He knew pretty damn well.

The guy opposite you shifts in his seat, probably aware that he had suddenly become a third wheel, thanks to the flirty tone in Jeno’s voice. Jeno gets a sick sense of enjoyment watching the man get uncomfortable – all the confirmation that whatever little plan he had going on was working. It made him only want to do it more.

So Jeno oh so casually reaches to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. You try not to react, but your head tilts slightly towards him, and your features soften. 

“You look beautiful,” Jeno compliments, fingers trailing down your hair, brushing over your shoulder before they settled back on your knee. “Black suits you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

“Are you two friends?” The man asks, reminding you both of his presence.

“Sort of,” you began to say, just as Jeno declares, “Very close friends.”

With your cheeks now flushing, you cut him a look that he largely ignores, before feeling the need to explain yourself to the friendly guy you had just met. “We catch up sometimes. Occasionally.”

“We’ve known each other for ages.” Jeno emphasises because he liked that fact. Liked knowing he was here first, having that leverage and advantage over any guy you’d ever meet.   

“I should leave you to it then, let you two catch up,” the man says through a tight lipped smile as he began to slide out of the booth. He knew exactly what Jeno was trying to do. “Nice meeting you, Y/N. See you around sometime.”

“I hope so!” You reply trying to sound enthusiastic. You didn’t want to give Jeno the satisfaction he was clearly hoping for. 

Once the man turned his back on you, you grab your glass and take an extra generous gulp of your drink. 

Before Jeno had the chance to open his mouth and say something else that was only going to irritate you, you lean into him. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Out. Get out. Let me out.”

Shuffling along as he was told, Jeno watches dumbly as you hastily slip out of the booth after the stranger, tugging the hem of your dress down with one hand and clutching your nearly empty glass in the other.

Jeno blinks for a second as you try to parade away from him. Then it registers in his mind and he’s chasing behind you and out of the bar. That’s when he tugs on your arm to stop you in your tracks. 

“Y/N. Stop, please.”

Much to Jeno’s surprise, you do as he says, turning around and holding up a commanding finger.  It almost seemed like a joke, but there was no humour in your tone when you asked, “What were you thinking?”

Jeno tilted his head to the side, tonguing the side of his cheek. 

“We weren’t at that party together! You knew that,” you continue your rant.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak to you in public,” Jeno replies naïvely with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

“You know that’s not what we do. We don’t hang out at social events, Jeno. We agreed on casual. I don’t want a relationship.”

Casual. Yeah, you seemed to really not want a relationship when you were chatting up that guy for ages. The thought makes Jeno scoff, his gaze dropping to his feet. 

 You cross your arms over your chest, exhaling, “What?”

“That guy,” he simply says, his eyes flashing with a slight fury when he looks back up at you. “You were with that guy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter when you refuse to even speak to me in public, but spend your whole night with him.”

Jeno’s smile is long gone, and almost, almost, you wanted to forget this whole thing and bring it back. You hated when Jeno was mad at you, not that he was very often, but he was being irrational right now. 

“I just met him, it was all friendly” you explain. “I can’t believe you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!”

Jeno knew he was, but there was not a chance of him admitting that seeing you with any other man drove him absolutely insane. Every single damn time. Still, you know better.

“You obviously are! Jeno, you know how I feel about you–”

“Do I? You didn’t seem to be into me tonight.”

“Because you came out of nowhere and acted like I was all yours!”

“You are mine!”

That was the wrong thing to say. Jeno knew it as soon as it came out his mouth, saw it in the way your expression tightened slightly. Even so, he wouldn’t take back what he thought was true.

“We haven’t defined anything–” you fumble, “Infact, I think we did the opposite—” 

“How would you like it if I’d been flirting with another girl all night?” He cuts in.

“It wouldn’t matter,” you lie. “You can do what you want.

Jeno takes a few steps towards you, and it makes you unconsciously hold your breath. He’s so tall and intimidating and goddam sexy—wait you’re mad at him right now! 

“What I really want, Y/N, is to be with you,” he spells it out frustratingly slowly. “Seeing you all night long in that short dress that barely covers your ass and knowing I can’t touch you, claim you, fucking kills me.” 

Your eyes betray you, because despite every brain wave in your mind telling you to yell at him for that slightly misogynistic statement—your eyes still soften. 

“Well, you should’ve just said that,” you try to explain instead of lecturing him. “If you’ve been feeling like that you should’ve talked to me instead of acting like a caveman.” 

“You don’t listen.”

“I’m listening now.”

Jeno blinks at you, his jaw loosening as his eyes watch your gaze drift down to his lips. The action is loud enough for him to not waste another second before his hands move to your waist, pulling you in to the kiss he had been dying to give you all night. 

It’s harder than he would’ve given you earlier, more possessive – oh, definitely possessive when he forces your back against the brick wall at the side of the bar and your arms have no choice but to hastily wrap around his neck. You stumble a little, but he keeps a firm grip on you.

If you wanted him to tell you how he felt, well, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.

He tells you in the desperate way that he kisses you, lips parting and unwilling to leave yours. He tells you by the way he presses his body flush against yours, pinning you to the brick so you can’t slip away from him, not again. He tells you in the low moan that escapes him when your hand tangles up in his hair and your own lips work just as eager.

When he breaks away for a moment, he takes his time to just look at you. So pretty, so desperate, and so undoubtedly all his. 

And when you gaze back at him through long lashes and eyes radiating with lust, he has to groan because he’s the one making you like that. He’s the one getting you to bite down on those pretty lips, lips that were made for him, belong to him. 

But you’re feeling too desperate and he’s taking too long. So within a mere few seconds, you’re reaching for him again. It has him thinking maybe you’re trying to tell him the same thing. But there was no need to do that. Jeno had made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

There was still a lingering frustration fuelling the two of you – mostly from you; it was jealousy for Jeno. He is jealous that someone else – another man – had gotten to spend the night at the party with you. He needed you to know that he hated to see you with him, and that this – this was never going to be better with anyone else. 

No matter how hard a man would try, they could never know you the way that he did. They could never make you feel the way he did. 

Ridiculously, you want to apologise despite him reading the situation all wrong. You hadn’t been flirting with anyone else, and you thought it didn’t matter who you chose to simply talk to. You never knew he’d feel this threatened. Never suspected it would upset him this much. 

You proposed the idea of keeping things casual to not get hurt. Jeno was unbelievably attractive and could have his pick of any woman. You thought keeping him at arm's length would protect you—figures it’s only hurting him. 

Regardless, no matter the context there was no denying that he was being a jealous ass tonight and the two of you had argued. An argument that you were both getting very turned on by and had you conflicted between getting down on your knees for him or letting him fuck you against the wall, outside and all. 

You always found great thrill in surprising him: breaking from the feverish kisses, you reach up under your dress and yank down your underwear. The delicate fabric falls around your ankles, and you kick them off to the side, inviting him to what he so clearly wanted.

I’m yours right here, right now, your eyes tell him.

And you really thought you had won at the whole surprising thing, until he hooks your legs around his waist and presses his hips harder against you. You never pegged yourself or Jeno for being an exhibitionist but something about him taking you against the wall of the very same bar he thought a man was flirting with you at, awakens something feral inside him. 

All of a sudden the wall seemed like the perfect spot for make up sex. Honestly, Jeno just wanted any sex. As long as it was with you. 

He exhales heavily when he starts to ease his pants down and you fumble to undo his shirt buttons. But you get far too distracted by his lips beginning to trail down your throat. He reaches for your thigh, smoothing up your soft skin, as he hitches up your dress around your hips. 

You’re so desperate for him you can’t help but whimper. And just when you think ‘Yes, finally,’ a cocky grin spreads across his face as his finger slips effortlessly (and too goddamn slowly) over your centre. His teasing is somewhat annoying, but it’s so hard to be pissed at him when he’s touching you like that. Hell, it’s hard to be mad at him in general—you’re weak to him and that’s exactly why you’re pushed up against a wall. 

Jeno picks up his pace as soon as he begins stroking you with another finger. You squirm against the wall and he watches that hungry expression grow as he rubs you rhythmically, fingers sliding up and down, up and down, so easily from how wet you are. Pride swells in his chest because he did that. 

Every moan that leaves your lips is his own little reward, one that he is dying to receive more, and more, and more of. Forever. 

Jeno knows you’re close. It would’ve been easy to get you off right there, and he would’ve, had he not abruptly pulled away from you. You curse under your breath at the loss of contact. 

“Jeno!” 

He smirks, loving the way you squirm as he nudges your legs further apart. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Got to tell me what you want, baby.” 

You groan frustratingly, since apparently he wasn’t going to give it to you unless you said something. “I want you, now. Just need you inside me.”  

He smirks, the grip he had on your thighs tightening and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his shirt. He shifts his hips, pushing the crown of his cock against your entrance — slowly, sensually, tormentingly. 

You lean into him, nails digging into the fabric on his back as he presses his forehead against your neck, soft hisses escaping him as he feels you — wet and tight. 

“This pussy was fucking made for me,” he growls, cock buried to the hilt. He could stay there forever, selfishly he wants to, but he can hear your whimpers and the need to please you becomes priority. 

He bottoms out and then his hips are snapping forward hard, fast, possessive. Whatever words you wanted to say dissolves into a senseless moan. His thrusts become more erratic and needy and the pace has you clenching down around him. Fuck. 

Jeno stills. His breath ghosts over your collarbones and his fingers dig even further into your hips. You know that look, he’s struggling to keep himself under control, which, given the circumstances is the last fucking thing you want. 

“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby.” 

He’s trying to reason with you, but before you really have time to think about what you’re doing you’re clawing at his back, tightening your legs around and digging the heels of your shoes into his back hard enough that he growls, low and frightening in a way that makes your spine tingle. 

“Fuck,” he grits out thrusting into you hard. The sound of skin hitting skin is loud and vulgar in the middle of the street, but you don’t care and can’t care because fuck, all you can think about is how it feels as he rocks into you, again and again and again. 

“Jeno,” you gasp out, grip digging into his shoulders as he fucks you, ruthless and unforgiving. 

He’s relishing in it, you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s trying to fucking burn the sight into his brain forever, the sounds you’re making and the way you shiver in his arms and the sheer force of it all. He groans and when he kisses you again it’s nearly violent, a clash of lips and tongues and teeth. 

“All mine,” he groans against your mouth. He hisses as you bite at his bottom lip, retaliating with a growl and driving his hips into yours with a newfound ruthlessness. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Oh—fuck please,” you gasp out, breaths coming out in little huffs in time with the movement of his body. 

“Not what I asked,” he lowers his voice, serious. His pace slows down and it has you squirming and crying out.

“Fuck yes—yours Jeno. Always been yours. Just please don’t stop—” 

Jeno groans and kisses your neck. He picks up his pace again. The same low tone in his voice as he promises, “I’m all yours too.” 

You swear those three simple words were the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Your walls flutter around him and you don’t miss the prideful grin on his face as his hand moves down from your hip and his thumb presses against your clit.

His fingers move hurriedly and the pleasure is suddenly blinding and white and fuck fuck—

“Jeno yes just like that I’m gonna—”

“Good fucking girl,” he chokes out, your orgasm shaking him to his core, making his thrusts half-desperate. 

His rhythm falters and his own breath catches. He digs his fingers into your hip hard enough that it makes you hiss and then he falters and slows and gives one, two, three more thrusts before pinning you harder with a shaky, breathless sigh.

The two of you stay like that for a beat before he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your dress. Then slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks, tasting you with a roll of his eyes. 

“I mean it, you know,” He quietly says. “I’m all yours.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a revering kiss, and you tell him the exact same thing back. 

[miyukisu]

A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

[take-it-on-the-run]

The End

Wally Clark x Reader

Two people died on September 23rd, 1983. One laid out on a football field before hundreds of people, and the other left behind on the cold floor of the boy's locker room.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Sexual assault, semi-graphic depictions of SA, including: almost direct aftermath, reader is naked in the beginning, mentions of blood, and implied loss of virginity via SA, flashback to SA; death, reader's death is overlooked, ANGST

Characters: Wally Clark, Reader, Dalton (OC)

Read it on AO3!

A/N: The Doors title. Hey ya'll. I cannot believe the love I've been getting on this page, and it's driving me past my writer's block more than anything. With school starting, I can feel the academic anxiety kicking in, but I use my writing as a coping method when I can. This story has very intense topics (as stated in the tags) and is not meant to idealize any topics in any way. This was inspired by @general-fanfiction's Hopes and Fears series (GO READ IT RN), and @whoopsyeahokay's October Sun series (ALSO GO READ IT RN). If this story is well received, or I just feel the urge to, I'll probably turn it into a series (bc this sucks as a one-shot). As always, please heed the warnings, and read only if you're comfortable.

Part 1 | Part 2

Wally Clark Masterlist | School Spirits Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Blood was everywhere.

It slid down your legs and dribbled onto the cold floor of the locker room. Every inch of your skin felt like it was too tight for your bones, and all you wanted to do was reach down your throat and rip out your heart.

Copper flooded your mouth. The tang brushed against the back of your chattering teeth, and all you could think about was how you wanted to crawl to the nearby shower and let it run until one of the coaches found you and dragged you out.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Move. You told yourself. All of your limbs ached. Nothing felt real.

You didn’t want this to be real.

It was supposed to be kind. Gentle. An act out of pure love.

Standing up proved to be hard, and it was like no one was able to hear you screaming out for help. Filtered out by the people flooding the halls, hustling to the big homecoming game going on that night.

The tiled walls provided little help as you brought yourself to a standing position, walking slowly as you felt your feet brush against the pile of your shoes, pants, and underwear on the floor. The touch stopped your heart, breaking a new tier of hate and regret across your body.

He said he loved me.

You turned on the shower, cranking the knob to the hottest setting, knowing that the water wouldn’t get anywhere near warm. Water slid harshly over your body, and you felt it pelt against spots of dried blood on your thighs.

You wished you never come to this stupid football game.

You wished you weren’t as ignorant, or as gullible, or as love-blind as you had been in the past three months.

You wished you never met him.

His face felt bitter and sharp in your head, poking and prodding, as if trying to stick the memory of his hands on you for eternity.

Time passed irregularly, no one came in or out of the locker room, and you were sure that the football game had to have reached its end by all of the cheering and yelling you heard outside.

After using all of the hot water in the gym wing, you slowly walked to the lines of lockers, trying even glimpsing in the direction of your clothes. tried to open every locker until one popped open, revealing a pair of grey sweatpants, a sweatshirt, a muscle tank, blue gym shorts, and a matching varsity jacket with #57 stitched on the arm.

You grabbed the matching sweatsuit, balling it in your arms and silently apologizing to the boy you’d never return the clothing to.

He probably won’t even notice, you told yourself.

You turned the corner around a line of lockers and you could swear you were going crazy. A bare foot poked out from behind the last line of lockers, limply tilted against your pile of clothes, painted a chipped wine red.

You blinked hard, looking down at your own chipped wine-red toes, and you clutched the clothing you stole to your naked body. The cotton was soft compared to the cold tile bracing against your feet, and you brought your eyes to look back to the pile of clothing on the floor.

Bile pooled at the back of your mouth as you hesitantly stepped closer to the foot that hadn’t disappeared. You’re going crazy, you told yourself, but the more and more you stared at the limp, pale body - your limp, pale body - whose features were more of a brutal mass than a face, the less it was going away.

You barely made it past the urinals and into an open stall before you dry-heaved into a toilet.

You were dead.

You couldn’t be.

As you zipped up the stolen hoodie and sweatpants, you tried to remember it all. Kissing under the bleachers before the game, him asking you to come with him while he grabbed something from his gym locker.

Every agonizing second you asked him to stop, to stop pressing you into the lockers because one of the locks was digging into your back; his decrepit hands sliding at your waistline, pushing and prodding past the fabric of your clothes.

Nothing would come up from your stomach.

Could ghosts vomit? You asked yourself, slowly standing to your feet and walking back over to your dead body.

Conversations started to flood the hallway, every muscle in your body coming briefly to attention before you flew out the door and screamed into the rushing crowd of students.

“Hello?” You called out, reaching your arm into the crowd, only to watch it get run through like something out of Star Wars.

Your body became hot, and even though you knew deep down that no one could see you, you pushed your tears back down your choking throat and felt your cheeks heat up with shame.

You walked into the crowd, who was thinning out the further you got from the hallway. Your body tensed for a moment, seeing the lights of police cars and ambulances pulling up to the school. Expecting to see the paramedics rushing toward your body, you waited for them to split the crowd, to start heading toward the school, but they were bolting the other way.

Straight toward the football field.

This school has to be fucking cursed.

One of the players was splayed out on the field, his head gently being lifted as paramedics were tugging his helmet off his head. The football team from whatever school yours was playing against was sitting on the bench, whispering and pointing to another one of their players who was talking to a police officer further down the field.

57.

The number sewn on the jacket hanging among the clothes you stole stood out against the dark blue of the player’s helmet. People gasped and a woman cried out as the paramedic set the helmet aside, revealing the face of the school’s resident golden boy; a dark bruise crawled up his neck, and his mouth guard slid between his lips as his limp head hung unnaturally over his shoulder.

You walked closer, straight through the forming line of police officers, and looked into the field. At the edge of the bleachers, waving his arms around and yelling into a silent group of people, stood Wally Clark.

Wally Clark is dead.

Just like I am.

You took off running, the activity coming easier to you when you were alive.

Alive.

“Wally!” You called out, and the football player snapped his body to your voice, his eyes wide and seeming relieved that someone was talking to him.

You stopped, resting your hands on your hips as he hopped down from the bleachers.

“What’s happening? Why- why is no one talking to me? What did I do?” He asked, skipping the formalities. He came to stand on the field before you, the football gear he was wearing sending a rush of debilitating shame through your body.

You faltered for a moment, his face flashing in your eyes before you rubbed your face back to reality.

“You didn’t do anything, Wally.” You managed to push out, pushing your eyes anywhere but on him.

“Then what is happening? I feel like I’m going crazy, one minute I’m running with the ball, and boom- I’m at the bleachers, trying to get my mother to talk to me and she won’t even look up at me. I know she’s pissed at me about going on the bench, but I mean I got back in the game, and now I’m guessing coach is pissed at me on insisting to get back in and-”

“You’re dead.” You cut off his rambling, forcing yourself to meet his face without looking away after a second, “I mean, I think we’re both dead.”

First, he smiled. Like what you said was some kind of joke. After you said nothing, he started toward the sidewalk, where his mother was now alongside a stretcher being lifted into an ambulance. You could see the tears on her face from where you were, each step you followed Wally, the easier it was to see her sorrow.

Then, as he was following his mother, he suddenly was gone, like he was plucked off the Earth by God himself.

That was until you turned to see him standing on the football field, right where his body was previously lying, tugging at the roots of his hair.

You hovered your foot, leveraging that if you stood on the sidewalk, you would be slingshotted back to the men’s locker room.

You decided to trust your gut and instead talked to Wally.

“I can’t be dead, I mean, that would mean you’re dead, and I literally saw you in the hallway this morning,” Wally said as he paced in a small area before you, “and I know for sure that I saw you because you were hanging around Dalton’s locker, which was weird because everyone on the team thought he had some college girl or something he was hanging out with-”

You didn’t register some of the words he was saying, instead you tried to control your thoughts from ripping you back to your last moments on earth at his name.

“-I mean, do you even know how crazy this sounds?”

You took in a shaky breath, wiping your hands over your face to poorly conceal any emotions that unwillingly spread onto your features, “Yeah, but that’s the thing, Wally. I am dead.”

Saying you were dead for the first time out loud was a lot heavier than you thought it would be.

You’re pretty sure that if the insanity of Wally being killed hadn’t overridden your brain, you would be somewhere huddled up and screaming for some greater power to give you eternal rest.

“What? That’s not possible, I mean, the people you were here with would’ve noticed you were gone. Dalton would’ve noticed you were gone.”

You didn’t want to give his name as much power as you did, but your body tightened up hearing it. You didn’t correct him, instead opting to stare at the dark woods on the far end of the field, your eyes burning once more.

“Y/N,” you were a little surprised that he knew your name, and even more when he stood in front of you with the most gentle expression you’d ever seen, “what happened after school? How did you die?”

[kaciidubs]

Wait Your Turn

❣ Summary: If you're going to break the rules, then you have to face the consequences of your actions. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 5.7k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, comfort, fluff, Dom/Sub dynamics, bondage, edging, spit roasting, bukkake, creampie(s), cum play, slight spit play, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, implied after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Pup, Bub, Kitten, Muse, Jagi[ya], Sunshine, Noona, probably the filthiest thing I've written so far, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Being in a polyamorous relationship with one of the busiest idol groups meant having to apply schedules to the most mundane parts of your life; which dorm you stay at for the week, who wants to go on solo dates and who wants to do group dates, and most importantly, who's the next to get laid by you and when.

Granted, these types of things are only applied when they're in the midst of a comeback - making sure their work life doesn't interfere with your relationship - but when the dreadful time does come around, the struggle truly begins.

Each of your boys were different in terms of their needs, so the schedule was set to alternate between the needier members having more frequent interactions with you throughout the week while the more independent members cashed their time during off days or weekends.

It was a strange system to adapt to, but you all made it work for the length of the comebacks - though, that doesn't mean it always held up. Some of the boys cracked, some deciding to share their time with you and another boy while others asked for trades in their time slots to see you sooner, but they always did their best not to alter the schedule too much.

That is, until week two came and you were begged for a cuddle session from a certain Aussie leader - Changbin agreeing to save his night for another day since Chris only went out of turn when he was really in his head about something.

You slipped into his room easily, getting bathed in the soft purple lighting of his room as you shut the door behind you. "You okay, Channie?"

He turned onto his side, putting his phone on the small table next to his bed before reaching his hand out, "Yeah, just need you in my arms, love."

Your heart fluttered, obliging his request with a smile as you happily rush to his bed, letting him pull you under the blanket and into his warmth - your darling personal heater who rarely wore anything more than boxer briefs to bed.

It doesn't take long until you're settled underneath him, caged between his arms while his slim hips keeps your legs separated, soft lips pressing to your own with barely hidden intent.

"Christopher," you hum against his lips, pulling away just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, "what are you up to, mister?"

"Need you," he breathed softly, pecking your lips once again before kissing just under your jaw, "need you so bad, baby."

A soft moan floated past your lips as he nipped at your sweet spot, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, "You know it's not your night, baby - we can't."

"No one needs to know, yeah?" His lips continued down, wet kisses left in his wake until he moved back up to your face, eyes lidded and fogged over with lust. "It's just one night, princess, please." Pressing his body against yours, he ground his hips, further enticing you with the feeling of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "Please, princess, just for daddy?"

In all honesty, you should've stuck to the rules, you should've been the voice of reason, but then his lips were on yours again and all thoughts of rationality went out the window.

When he felt you melt into the kiss he sighed a breath of relief, pulling away to sit himself up on his knees, "I'll do all the work, baby, alright? I just need you to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet - we don't want to get caught, do we?"

You shook your head softly, shamelessly checking out his chest under the LED lights, "No, daddy - I'll be quiet."

His right hand caught your chin, bringing your gaze back to his with a knowing smirk, "Good girl."

With that, your fate was sealed with the tangling of limbs, breathless sighs of names, and muffled moans of pleasure.

It wasn't until the next morning that you realized the repercussions of your shared decision, waking up to an empty bed and a wall of texts waiting on your phone that sent chills down your spine.

My Loves - GC Min [Cat Daddy]🐈: Meeting at 3Racha + Artist dorm tonight Sun-Bok ☀️: Yep! Binnie Baby 💪🏻: 👍🏻 My Artist 💌: This'll be fun 🙄 Hannie Jisungie 💘: Do we have to?? I kinda had plans.. Bubs [SeungMongMong] 💕: Han. Read the room. Baby Bread 🍞❣️: 😭😭😭

Judging from the lack of reply from a certain leader, you already knew what the meeting was going to be about.

Wonderful.

"Do you know why we're gathered here today?"

You wanted to coo at how cute Felix's 'domineering' act was, but you chose to refrain as you sat next to Chris in chairs borrowed from the dining room.

"Um... No?"

Minho clicked his tongue, sharp eyes narrowing in an expression you were all too familiar with, "Are you sure about that, Kitten?"

Pressing your lips into a firm line, you immediately knew that playing innocent was not in your favor.

"Chan?" He now challenged the eldest, the fire in his eyes unwavering.

The black haired man timidly shook his head, not even daring to open his mouth - he was a terrible liar, and everyone knew that.

"Alright, so we're playing this game." Shrugging dismissively, he turned his attention to Hyunjin and gave him a nod.

Without missing a beat, Hyunjin took out his phone and swiped across the screen before putting it down on the coffee table for everyone to witness what would happen next.

You froze at the sound playing from Hyunjin's phone, eyes snapping to Chris as his feigned look of confusion fell to sheepish embarrassment.

Floating through the small speaker were your moans, his moans, and the faint thumping of the bed you had warned him about before the entire scenario started.

"You recorded us?!" Even though he tried to save face, the blush tinting his ears and cheeks was more than a dead giveaway that you'd been caught red handed.

"You fucked her when it wasn't even your turn!" Hyunjin argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You were supposed to be asleep!"

"First of all, I can stay up late as long as I want, and second of all, you two aren't the quietest of fucks in this house!"

"We share a wall and I slept through all of that?!" Jisung suddenly piped up, gesturing wildly to the phone on the table, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"I sense we're missing the point here..." Jeongin mumbled, snatching Hyunjin's phone from the table to pause the tantalizing audio.

"Innie's right! The point is," Changbin pointed a finger at their leader, "you tricked my bunny into letting you hit!"

Seungmin scoffed, "Tricked is a strong accusation, your 'bunny' isn't as innocent as she seems, isn't that right, pup?"

As much as you wanted to speak up in defense of yourself, they were completely right; you were in the wrong, no matter how it started and how rewarding the act was, you had broken one of the rules explicitly set for comeback season.

"This isn't all sunshine's fault," Felix butted in, quieting the bickering happening around him, "but it isn't all Chan's fault either - they both did it, so they both need to be punished, right? That's what we normally do when rules are broken, isn't it?"

"Exactly," Minho purred, running a hand through Felix's blond hair in appreciation, "and lucky for you two, we already thought of a punishment."

A chill ran down your spine and you stiffened under his mischievous gaze, noticing Chris opening his mouth to speak from your peripheral but closed it once more.

He may have been their leader at work, but here they were all partners, and the eldest card was virtually useless.

Looking between the two of you, a smug smirk graced Minho's lips as he nodded, "No objections? Good." Turning his gaze to you, he nodded his head, "Clothes off, kitten."

Apparently, the agreed upon punishment must've been a pact for pure torture for you and Chris; the eldest remaining in the same dining chair he sat in during the meeting, wearing only his boxer briefs with his wrists tied behind his back as part of his personal punishment.

You, however, seemed to get the brunt of the arrangement, laid naked on a blanket spread out over the area rug, a few decorative pillows spread around in case you needed the extra support.

Chris wasn't allowed to touch you or himself, nor was he allowed to cum during any point of the punishment; whereas you were allowed to touch anyone but Chris, and you weren't allowed to cum while the remaining members used their designated day to fuck you out of schedule - just like their wise leader and boyfriend had done the night before.

After some thorough - and quite unfair - prep by Jisung that left your pussy covered in spit and glistening for all of the boys to pay witness, Jeongin shuffled his way between your legs.

"Hi, Noona."

You did your best not to giggle at how causal he was, despite being stark naked and fisting his dick for what was to come next. "Hi, Innie."

"I still think it isn't fair you let Channie Hyung break the rules like that," he pouted, shuffling closer to rub his tip against your awaiting folds, drawing a shivering breath from you in the process.

"I-I know, I'm so-rry!" The feeling of his cock sliding past your walls had your back arching slightly, a low moan floating past your lips as he steadily filled you to the hilt.

He groaned softly, hands anchoring at your hips as he began to thrust into you without abandon, eyes locked onto where you were connected as his tongue just barely poked between his lips.

Your peace of getting used to his fast pace was interrupted with a shadow being cast over your face, the sight of Changbin shuffling into view with his signature smirk curving his lips.

"You don't mind taking two at once, do you, bunny?" He hummed, tapping the head of his dick against your bottom lip for emphasis.

A pitiful whimper escaped you, eyebrows sloping as realization quickly dawned on you - if he was using your mouth, then that meant you wouldn't get to feel that delicious stretch you'd been craving for the past week, yet another punishment.

"C'mon, little bunny, open up for me."

Doing as you were told, you parted your lips to welcome his thick tip, dropping your jaw to accompany the rest of his thick length to slip into your mouth and press against the back of your throat.

He rocked his hips in an opposing rhythm to Jeongin's powerful thrusts, the force simply jolting you into Changbin's dick and helping him fuck your mouth in return.

Any sound you made was turned into vibrations that shot up his spine, while panted moans and grunted breaths flowed freely from them, mingling with the distant sounds of your other boyfriends pleasuring themselves on the side as they waited for their turn.

"Look at you taking Innie so well, gonna make him come, bunny? Make him fill that needy pussy of yours?" The third eldest goaded, his hand sliding down to grope at your breast, running his thumb over your budding nipple.

Jeongin grunted, head bowed with focus as he drove into you with one desire and one only - to come.

You tried to hum out a reply, nodding your head in hopes that it would get noticed through the bobbing of your head until an increase of speed had your eyes rolling in your head.

"I-I'm gonna come, Noona- Oh, fuck-"

Just as you were ready to feel the signature warmth filling you, the presence of him inside of you disappeared and your eyes shot open to see him jacking himself off above you. Within a few passes of his fist, ropes of cum decorated your stomach, starting just above your naval and ending near your breasts.

It was almost as if he could sense your disappointment as he shot you a cocky smirk, "Oh - did you want me to finish inside? Sorry, Noona, I got to pick since it was my turn."

With a tap to your cheek, Changbin brought your attention back to him, "Don't get too upset, you still have five more dicks to go, bunny."

He was right - your punishment was far from over, and with the needy flutters of your pussy, you knew the requirement of not coming would be an uphill battle.

So, with renowned vigor, you did your best to focus on giving the best head you could manage in this position, laving your tongue against the smooth skin of his dick while trying not to mind the saliva that trailed down your cheek.

In the meantime, Chris wasn't faring too well in his seat, his hard on straining in his boxer briefs and begging for some form of attention from anyone in the room - the subtle shifting doing next to nothing to satisfy the pressure he craved.

He watched as Hyunjin guided Seungmin's mouth up and down his cock, a hand tangled in the long golden tresses of the younger's hair while the other half of his attention was focused on slow makeout session Felix had drawn him into; plump lips working against the smaller pair in a way that couldn't be described as anything other than beautiful.

"IN-ah," Minho called out, almost looking completely unphased by the drag of Jisung's lips against the column of his neck if it weren't for the way his hands gripped his slim waist. "Why don't you make sure Hyung doesn't get too bored over there?"

Fuck.

Jeongin gave a dutiful nod as he crawled his way over to the eldest, fox-like eyes sparkling with a glee that made his stomach flip. "Channie Hyung."

"Jeongin."

He pouted at the use of his name, no glittering nickname or endearing title following, "Don't be like that! You know why we're doing this - you'd do the same if it was one of us!"

Of course, he was right, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to save as much of his pride as he could, not with the way he could feel his sanity slipping as the two-toned blond settled between his spread legs.

"Alright, alright, 'm sorry," relaxing against the chair, he gave a small smile toward the youngest, "hi, baby boy."

Preening with happiness, Jeongin pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh that nearly had him jolting out of the chair, a delighted laugh floating past those daring lips.

"You know... You didn't have to try to keep it a secret," he hummed, planting another kiss higher up the smooth plane of skin, "there's nothing wrong with needing Noona sooner than us, unless..." Sharp eyes looked up at him, a dark glint sending a spark of electricity down the eldest's spine, "You wanted to see what would happen if we found out - is that it, Hyung?"

Chris opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a guttural groan escaping Changbin, pulling his attention toward the main event happening in the middle of the living room.

The buff man shivered, hissing sharply as he pulled his softening dick from your mouth, "Show Binnie, bunny."

You opened your mouth immediately, showing the mess of cum and saliva pooling your tongue.

"Good girl, go on and swallow."

Your puffy lips closed for a moment before parting again to show your now empty mouth, void of any remnants of his seed; as a reward, Changbin bent down and pressed his lips to your forehead.

Next in the rotation was Seungmin, Felix, and Hyunjin - taking on a position that seemed to be coordinated in advance; Seungmin taking post between your legs, Felix straddling your torso with his hands already groping your chest, while Hyunjin lingered beside you.

"Jeongin, did you really have to leave a mess behind?" Seungmin groaned as he dragged his thumb through a still wet line of cum, tapping Felix's cheek with his index.

Following his instincts, Felix turned his head and instantly took his thumb into his mouth, and you watched with lust fogged eyes as he sucked it clean.

"Don't act like you weren't going to do the same thing." The youngest deadpanned, shooting the singer a glare, "You're just mad I did it first."

Deciding to ignore that statement, the second youngest slipped his thumb from Felix's soft lips and brought it down toward your awaiting pussy, putting slight pressure on your neglected clit.

You jolted at the sudden touch, whining pitifully, "Minnie, please, don't tease me."

"I don't think you're in any position to make demands, bub."

Despite his snarky reply, you could feel the head of his dick nudge against your slick entrance, all the while Felix was happily enjoying his time with your breasts; gently kneading the mounds and tweaking your nipples with subtle pinches here and there.

"Come here, my angel." Hyunjin murmured softly, cupping the freckled blond's face before pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

You watched helplessly, forced to be a spectator of the pleasure happening around you; the show above you, the sounds of Jisung's unabashed whimpers from the couch, and the grunted gasps of Chris from whatever Jeongin and Changbin had resorted to doing to him.

When the duo pulled away, Felix leaned over to let a stream of spit drip onto his twitching cock and the valley of your boobs, the excitement palpable from the way he practically vibrated above you.

Without any further preparation, he pressed your breasts together to sandwich his cock and rocked his hips forward, a heavenly groan floating past his lips.

At the same time, Seungmin slipped past your walls with little resistance, sighing happily at the warmth of your pussy finally enveloping him.

Your hands found Felix's thighs, squeezing the flexed muscles as he fucked your breasts at a steady pace - meanwhile, Seungmin set his own rhythm of deep and hard thrusts, practically punching moans out of your throat with each slap of his thighs against the back of your own.

"Sunshine, you feel so good," Felix groaned, eyes flicking between your face and the way the pink head of his dick peeked out from between your boobs on each inward thrust.

"Of course she'd feel good," Seungmin scoffed, his hands gripping the backs of your knees for leverage, "the little slut was made for us, isn't that right, pup?"

You preened at his words, tossing your head back with an unabashed moan.

"So shameless, my muse," Hyunjin smirked, watching you lovingly as he lazily fisted his spit-slicked cock. "You love being used like this by us - but, then again, we love getting to use you, too."

Whining up at him, your dazed eyes glanced down at his length and your lips parted - an offering.

"Nuh uh, beauty, I'm waiting for that sweet pussy of yours."

The clench your walls gave earned you a moan from the singer inside of you, his grip on your legs tightening slightly, "Fuck, stop it, pup - feels too fucking good."

Felix whined, tossing his head back with a shivering breath, "W-What's she feel like, Minnie?"

"Wet, warm, t-tight," a low grunt fell from his lips, "I can tell she's getting close - you know, when her pussy f-flutters-"

"-Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- I'm close." The freckled boy's thrusts quickly began to falter, dissolving into him shallowly humping your breasts.

Hyunjin watched as both boys chased their orgasms, your breathless moans floating through the air like a song while your nails scratched angry red lines down Felix's slim thighs.

"A-Ah, fuck, f-fuck-" Seungmin was the first to topple over the edge, pulling out just as he began to come, the hot release adding to the partially dried mess left behind from his boyfriend before.

With a shaky rut of his hips, Felix came with a short cry of your name, his cum painting your neck and mixing with the mess of saliva and precum in your cleavage.

Dropping your legs unceremoniously, Seungmin shuffled from between your legs to sit breathlessly at your side; Felix managing to shakily slide himself off of your torso and into the former's arms.

"Oh, you poor beauty," Hyunjin cooed, taking in your utterly disheveled form as he filled in the newly freed space, "they made you so dirty, didn't they?"

You jolted at the feeling of his hand ghosting your side, your abdomen twisting so hard you nearly folded over.

"H-Hyune, can I come this time? Please, please, I-I need to, i-it's too much!"

"You're begging the wrong person, my muse." He used his right index to drag through the mess at your sternum and down to the cum coating your stomach, "I can't help you, here." Popping his finger into his mouth, a shivering breath ran through his body, eyelids fluttering before focusing his heated stare back onto you, "Don't worry, I'll be fast - two more after me and you'll be done."

Luckily for you, your orgasm had began to subside and you were barely affected by the graze of his fingertips down your hips and thighs, caressing your skin and massaging the tense muscles as he went.

Chris watched as Hyunjin slipped inside of you with little to no resistance, the sight of your cum stained body arching off of the floor making him strain against the rope keeping his hands behind his back.

"Wish that was you, huh?" Changbin taunted low in his ear, squeezing his shoulders before lightly massaging away the tenseness in his biceps, "Look at her, five dicks in and she's still taking everything we give her."

"Fuck."

Hyunjin had your legs in the air, calves resting against his right shoulder to make the squeeze even tighter, making each drag of his cock that much more devilish for you.

That should be him making you moan like that, he should be the one feeling the squeeze of your pussy around his dick, not the stupid confines of his underwear.

He felt like he was going crazy, and it didn't help with Jeongin's intermittent touches to his restrained bulge that kept him hyper aware of everything happening in front of him.

Your moans grew in pitch, one hand gripping onto the artist's forearm while the other gripped a decorative pillow by your head for further support.

"Oh, god - I c-can't- I-"

"Hold it, kitten." Minho spoke up from his position on the couch, "You have two more to go for your punishment - you don't want to make it worse, do you?"

"N-No, but- Ah!" Your train of thought escaped you as the lithe dancer slightly leaned forward, pushing your legs closer to your torso and brushing against your g-spot in an entirely new angle that had you seeing stars.

"You can do it, my love," Hyunjin panted breathlessly, a fine sheen of sweat beginning to glisten on his skin, "g-gonna fill you up for doing such a good job for us, okay?"

There weren't any words you could find to somehow put together a coherent sentence, so you simply nodded with hiccuped breaths - doing your best not to focus on the burning desire in your abdomen.

It only took a few more strokes until he stilled with a gasp, broken moans happening in time with the twitching of his length, filling your cunt with every last drop of his load.

However, the turnaround this time was faster than you'd expected; Hyunjin pulling out with a still throbbing dick, while the sound of scrambling reached your ears before a new presence filled the void.

"Jagi."

Your heart clenched, blinking up at the man with a desperate gaze, "Sungie, please - I-I can't take anymore."

You were overly aware of the warm sensation of Hyunjin's cum dripping down the curve of your ass and undoubtedly staining the blanket beneath you, and you were beginning to feel tacky from the mix of cum and spit drying on your skin.

"I know, I know, but you're so close, Jagi - you can do it for us, right? Take your punishment like a good girl?"

The feeling of him pushing your legs up and out had you sobbing out a breath, everything from your waist down sore and crying for a break.

Jisung rubbed the leaky tip of his cock against your puffy clit, biting his lip as more cum seemed to endlessly dribble out of you, "Shit, he really filled you, hm?"

Then, just as his boyfriends before, he angled his hips and sunk into your sensitive cunt, your moans mixing together in a harmony.

"S-So good - god, I wish I could stay in this pussy." He groaned, leaning forward to hover over you - keeping your legs hooked on the outside of his arms - before shallowly thrusting into you.

The sloppy sounds of skin against skin and the mixture of cum and your arousal filled the living room as everyone watched on.

"Fuck... I wanna go again," Felix whined, doe eyes trained on where you and Jisung were connected.

Seungmin laughed, squeezing his arms around him, "Yeah? I bet Chan wishes he could go at all."

This comment brought each of their attentions to the man in mention, and the sight was one to be memorized for the time to come.

A light sheen of sweat shined across his forehead and chest, shallow breaths expanding his torso and exposing the slight definition of abs with each exhale, and thick thighs spread to display the bulge stretching the light grey fabric of his boxer briefs - a glaringly obvious stain of precum in the form of dark grey spread around the head of his hidden cock and along the length, defining it more.

"Holy shit, Chan - you're turned on this much?" Hyunjin took in the view with amused eyes, though the faint swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip hadn't gone unnoticed.

The eldest whined, an embarrassed blush adding to the flush of arousal on his face, "It doesn't help that these two," he nodded his head between Jeongin and Changbin, "have been over here touching me the whole time, and- fuck, watching everyone take turns with her, how could I not get turned on?"

"Channie Hyung, you look like you're one breeze away from coming." Jeongin giggled as he pressed his index finger against the outline of his tip, pulling it away to see a faint string of precum follow suit.

"He shouldn't." Minho interjected, watching the small group from the couch, "And you better not make him come either, unless you'd like to be added to the punishment list, too."

Another signature whine fell from Felix as he broke his focused stare to look at the black haired man, "Can we at least see him? Please, Hyung?"

There was a moment of silence - well, as silent as it could be with your and Jisung's moans and whimpers still dancing through the air - before he nodded his head.

"Fine, go ahead."

It definitely wasn't a three person job, but when Felix sprung into action with Jeongin, Seungmin wasn't about to be left out of the reveal - so, with three sets of hands and the help of Chris lifting his hips, they managed to toss away his one and only clothing item.

"Holy fuck, thank you," he groaned, his head falling back and lightly knocking against the backrest of the chair; a wave of goosebumps decorating his skin at the temperature shift and change in pressure.

The sudden sound of Jisung cursing called their attention like a moth to a flame, eyes snapping to see the rapper frantically fucking into you with reckless abandon.

Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you gripped his hair, "Please, please, please, I-I can't- j-just come already, Sungie!"

It wasn't clear if it was the tug on his scalp or your command that had him coming, but he was suddenly shaking above you with breathless whines, fucking his load into you with hard, shallow ruts.

He dipped his head to catch your lips in a less than coordinated kiss, a dazed smile finding its way to his face, "Last one, Jagi."

Sniffling up at him, a harsh realization hit you like a freight train - Minho was the last one to go.

Minho, the one who enjoyed seeing you at your wits end, wearing you down until you were nothing but his brainless little kitten - the one who laughed in the face of your pleas and begs, the one who would catch your tears onto his fingers and make you choke on the same digits.

As Jisung slipped away to join the rest of the spectators, you turned your head to see Minho unmoving from his seat, staring at you with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Hands and knees, kitten."

You were shocked to find out that you still had power left in you to lift your body from the floor, much less manage to turn yourself onto your aching legs before dipping into an arch you'd perfected in your time with them - ignoring the feeling of now cold cum meeting the fluffy warmth of the blanket where you once laid.

It wasn't long until you felt a large hand grip the swell of your ass before landing a hard slap against the cheek making you scream out a moan.

"What did we learn?" He hummed nonchalantly, spreading your ass cheeks to see the newest mess of cum ooze toward your clit.

"I-I won't k-keep secrets," you sobbed, the pulse of your pussy making your toes curl, "if s-someone wants to skip ahead, w-we make sure everyone knows - P-Please, Min, I'm sorry!"

The only sign of acknowledgment he gave you was a clipped hum, sliding one hand to the base of your spine while the other wrapped around his dick, pumping once and tracing your messy cunt.

"Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, please, I've been good - I-I didn't come while the others fucked me, I-I let them use me, please let me come, Min!" Hiccuping a sob, your hands fisted the blanket as fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, "Please, please, please, it hurts - I can't keep holding it!"

The stretch of his dick past your sensitive walls had your mouth falling open in a silent moan, eyes rolling as your veins flowed with molten lava - overstimulation beginning to set in.

"Okay, kitten, you can come," he murmured softly, his hand sliding up your slightly sweaty back before wrapping around your neck, his body eclipsing yours as his lips hovered just above your ear, "but only when I say so."

He dragged his hips back before delivering a hard thrust, forcing a choked gasp past your lips as he began to practically fuck you through the floor - broken moans and cries flowing like water in a stream.

"Remember this the next time you decide to bend the rules," hissing in your ear, his hand tightened around your neck ever so slightly, "doesn't matter if its Yongbokkie's charms, Hannie's begs, Jeongin's sugar coated promises - none of them, if you try lying to cover for them, this is what'll happen."

"Minho, it wasn't all her fault." Chris gritted, watching the way you writhed in the second eldest's hold - his dick twitching painfully for any type of relief.

Minho scoffed out a laugh, finally directly regarding him ever since the entire punishment started, "When did I ever say it was, Chan?"

Without so much as a stutter in his rhythm, he sat up onto his knees, bringing your body with his and putting you on full display for the rest of your partners.

"This is a lesson to you, too; don't try to keep things from us - if you want to fuck our girl, you can fuck her." His thumb pressed against the underside of your jaw, tilting your head in their direction, "She obviously loves it, so why put yourself through the stress of making it a secret? You can see her just like this without keeping her orgasm from her, isn't that right, kitten?"

You mindlessly nodded as best as you could, drool trailing out of the corner of your mouth as you tried your best to keep your focus on the man restrained in the chair and not on the six other pairs of eyes taking you in.

"Words, kitten."

"Y-Yes, Sir!" You mewled, your hands holding tight to his arm to keep yourself tethered to your own body.

"Exactly, now, say sorry."

Chris bristled, "Minho, that's-"

"Felix."

On command, the boys occupying the space near Chris's legs moved to allowed Felix between them; Jeongin holding onto one thigh while Hyunjin held onto the other to further restrain him.

The second Felix's soft hands wrapped around the base of his dick, he had to bite his lip to silence the pure moan of pleasure that wanted to rise out of him - but, the instant his lips pressed against a vein, he nearly cried.

"Say sorry, kitten," Minho whispered in your ear, breaking through the fog that clouded your brain, "say sorry then you can come."

A sob wracked through your body as you nodded, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Innie and Binnie. I'm sorry L-Lix, Minnie, a-and Hyune. I-I'm sorry S-Sungie," nearly choking on your breath, you cried, "a-and I'm sorry Min, I'm so sorry, sir!"

He hummed, a smirk on his lips, "You're missing an apology, kitten."

The names replayed in your head like a tape on rewind, your brain desperately searching for who you might have missed until it finally clicked.

"C-Channie!"

The call of his name brought his eyes to yours, breathless groans escaping him as Felix licked at him as if he were a popsicle on a hot summer day.

You sniffled, blown out pupils swimming in the sea of your watery eyes, "I-I'm so sorry, Channie - I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

His heart clenched in time with his abdomen, hips canting as best they could with Hyunjin and Jeongin keeping him still. "I'm sorry, princess, you hear me? Fuck- I'm so sorry, baby."

"Good kitten," Minho grunted, his free hand wrapping around your hip to the apex of your thighs, his skilled fingers finding your clit easily, "now, come for us."

There wasn't a singular word to describe the sensations that shot through your veins; euphoria, relief, satisfaction, all you could feel was the wave of your orgasm crashing around you and drowning you in the muffled sounds of your own screams.

It didn't take long for Chris to fall victim to the sinful kitten licks of Felix's tongue, not when he had the view of you and Minho falling apart before his eyes.

"Oh fuck, f-fuck!"

Minho felt you slump in his arms, shallow breaths wracking your body through soft whimpers and hiccups. "You're alright, Jagiya, I've got you."

You slurred out soft words he couldn't catch, though the faintest "Sorry" caught his ear through the jumbled mess.

"No more of that, kitten, okay? I forgive you - We forgive you, just take some deep breaths with me, hm?"

Changbin appeared in front of you with two wet washcloths, and a t-shirt most likely from his closet, "Hey, bunny, it's Binnie - I'm gonna clean you off, okay?"

You hummed softly and he got to work wiping away the dried cum and spit that stained your skin, using the second cloth to get whatever remnants he missed before handing it off to Minho who cleaned away the cum covering your pussy.

Meanwhile, Felix and Jeongin were having a field day of cleaning up the cum that decorated Chris's skin from his own orgasm; Hyunjin lazily running his hands through Chris's hair while Seungmin untied his wrists.

"Hyung," Seungmin prodded, garnering Chris's tired, but attentive gaze, "we know you mean well, and you don't like imposing over us, or whatever," he took a short breath, fighting through the shyness, "but if you need something then say so - it's not like we haven't adjusted our schedules before."

"Yeah, Chan - we're not gonna fault you if you need your time sooner than us, we do it all the time." Hyunjin chimed in, playing with a small curl at the front of his head.

"Some of us more than others."

"You know, I can hear you," Felix deadpanned, looking up at the three of them while licking his lips, "and it's not like I don't offer sharing my time!"

Jeongin laughed, "I don't think they meant it as a bad thing, Lix, you're just the one who uses your time the most, even if you share it."

"Which is, again, not a bad thing," Jisung piped up with a chuckle, walking toward the group with a washcloth and a bottle of water for the eldest, "I think it's a tie between me and you, honestly."

Through the small talk and pre-shower wipe downs - some of the boys dispersing to shower while others searched for snacks - Chris noticed Minho bundling up the soiled blanket while Changbin cradled your sleeping form in his arms on the couch, murmuring soft words he wasn't able to catch.

"She's okay," Minho hummed, catching Chris's soft gaze, "we're going to let her rest for a minute, then when she wakes up Changbin's going to make sure she uses the bathroom before anything else."

He nodded understandingly, stretching his arms and rubbing absentmindedly at his wrists.

"You want to cuddle with her."

Chris jolted, eyes widening, "What? I didn't say-"

"You don't have to say it, you do it all the time after sex, Chan," he rolled his eyes, a loving smirk playing at his lips, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just..." Sighing, Minho ventured over to the chair he still sat in, "Stop being shy about needing love, okay? This isn't about some stupid rule or 'fuck' schedule - you need to know that there isn't any shame in putting your needs first. You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need, Hyung."

Planting a quick kiss on his lips, Minho disappeared down the hall toward the laundry room, leaving Chris to settle with his words.

Nodding softly to himself, he made his way toward Changbin and swapped roles quietly, accepting a temple kiss from his fellow rapper before he headed into the kitchen to join whoever occupied the space.

Laying across the couch, Chris let you lay partially on top of him, his arm wrapped securely around your back while he used his other hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

Stirring slightly, you cracked an eye open and a tired smile twitched your lips, "Mm... I love you."

You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need.

He smiled at Minho's words, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, watching as you drifted back to sleep.

"I love you too, baby."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Kalim Al-Asim

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim x Reader 🦦🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Kalim’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 3.540 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy 🦦

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / (Kalim) / Jamil / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

Right after, what was heard were Vil's screams. After calming down, scolding you and Grim for not warning him about what dream to dream trips were like, and arguing a bit with Idia to the point where Ortho had to get in the middle peacefully to stop the discussion, Vil and the others finally look around to try to figure out where you all are.

They realize that, once again, you are not in Night Raven College and that the architecture is very similar to Scarabia and Scalding Sands, but also... that it's unbearably HOT! To cool off, Grim doesn't think twice before jumping into the huge fountain right next to you. A fountain with a statue that caught everyone's attention.

“That old man seems familiar, somehow.” Silver comments.

“That's the legendary Ruler of the Oasis.” A familiar voice explains. “He was a very upright man. When something worried him, he'd never keep it to himself. He consulted his retainer for everything... And they solved those problems together. In fact, he even revised the law to adapt to changing times. Isn't that cool?” Kalim reveals himself. “Here at Qasr Sultanate Academy, we honor the Ruler of the Oasis's spirit of magnanimity.”

“KALIM?!” Everyone is surprised to see him in those white and turquoise clothes.

“Hm? Have we met before?” Kalim asks. “Sorry, I'm not very good at remembering faces!” You see the dreamer's bird around his head. “Are they your friends, (Y/N)? Sorry I don't remember if you've introduced us before.”

“You still remember me?” You ask.

“HUH?! Of course I remember you!” he looks at you sadly. “Aww... Are you mad that I don't remember your friends? I understand and I'm so sorry...”

He was clearly so sad at the thought of hurting your feelings that you felt the need to tell him that you weren't mad and that he didn't need to worry because no, you never introduced them to him yet.

“Are you sure you're not mad at me?”

“No, no, of course not. Forget the question.” You needed to know more about that dream world, so you get into character. “I think I got a little confused too. It's okay.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Really?!” Kalim widens his eyes in surprise. “I don't think I've ever seen you get as confused as I do. Ah hah hah! Maybe it's one of those couple things where they start to share traits after being together for a while.”

“Hm? Couple things?” Silver asks.

“I guess reintroductions are in order. I'm Kalim Al-Asim, a sophomore at Qasr Sultanate Academy, and (Y/N)'s boyfriend.” He says with a huge smile.

Everyone looks shockingly surprised.

“Hm? What's wrong?” Kalim asks. “Oh, maybe you weren't expecting us to be so close because of our clothes. Speaking of which, why aren't you wearing your uniform, (Y/N)? But now that I look at it, you seem to be wearing the same clothes as them. Oh! I know, they were your classmates at your previous- ah!” Kalim's smile suddenly disappears and the regretful look returns. “Oh... sorry... I forgot for a moment that you weren't from... here...”

“Oh, it's okay.” You try to shrug it off. “These clothes... um...”

“Are a gift.” Vil says. “But don't worry about it. (Y/N), you can change your clothes if you want.” Vil says, encouraging you to do so.

You say yes, and that new clothes might be better for that whether.

“Yes, you’re right. You don't have any headwear to block the sun, and the fabric your clothes are made from doesn't seem very breathable... Ah!” Kalim gets concerned. “Now that I'm looking, you guys are seriously sweating!”

“Rgh... This black fabric is absorbing the sunlight.” Sebek says “It's like I'm in a sauna!”

“Same.” Ortho agrees. “My gear's internal temperature is rising so sharply, my cooling systems can't keep up...”

“Oh gosh, are you okay? Hold on, I'll get you some cold, refreshing water! Respite in the scalding sands, a neverending party. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!”

And it starts to rain gently on you all.

“Mmm, that truly is refreshing!” Sebek says gratefully. “I can feel the water's coolness seeping into me.”

“While I appreciate the gesture, you shouldn't splash water into people's faces. You'll ruin their makeup.” Vil says. “Could you put some in this cup instead?” He summons a cup in his hand.

Upon realizing that they are also mages, Kalim begins to ask about the school they came from. You also discover that Qasr Sultanate Academy is an Arcane school as well and Kalim says it was built by his father for him two years ago.

“Ooh, say! I'm sure something brought us together.” Kalim says excitedly. “You should tell me more about your own school!”

“Ah, this presents a perfect chance to probe fo weakness in the dream!” Ortho comments discreetly.

“True. But...” Vil addresses Kalim. “It's far too sunny out here. I don't want to get a sunburn. Would it be possible to head indoors for this discussion?”

“Ah hah hah! Why move, when we can just have shelter brought to us? There's a nice breeze going, after all. Hey, everyone! Prepare a party!”

Kalim claps his hands and a bunch of people start organizing things. Rushing in with parasols and tableware, laying out rugs and setting out food dishes. Kalim explains that they are retainers who came here with him from home.

“Oh, (Y/N), do you mind if I try to change your clothes?” Kalim asks as the retainers prepare the picnic “I love it when we match!” You accept and he becomes even happier and more excited. “Okay, this has gone well the last few times. Let's see if I can do it again.”

Kalim raises his staff and transforms your NRC uniform into a white and turquoise uniform similar to the one he is wearing.

“You always look so pretty in those clothes.” He says super happy. “You remind me of the Ruler of the Oasis's daughter. But I must have told you this many times because I remember you telling me that our story was backwards, and that I was more like the princess and you were more like the commoner. Ah hah hah! But regardless of your clothes, you know you're my jasmine, right?”

“Jasmine?” You ask.

“Yeah, like the flower that the princess's beloved offered her. Aww, if only I could summon a branch of them now... but I still don't have a good grasp of those spells.”

And then, discreetly, a familiar red magic carpet appears behind Kalim, taps his shoulder to make him look back and gives him a jasmine bouquet before flying away again.

“Ah hah hah! I think he's feeling shy around so many new people.” he hands you that bouquet with a cute smile. “I have to think of a way to thank him later.”

“Kalim Al-Asim.” Ortho asks after the picnic is ready. “You and (Y/N) make a beautiful couple. If it's not too indiscreet, may I ask how you two met?”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” He seemed excited to tell the story of the two of you. “You know, they're not from-” he stops and looks at you, as if looking for approval to reveal that information. You nod encouragingly. “They're not from Twisted Wonderland.”

“Oh! Truly?!” Vil acts surprised, as do the others.

“Yeah! Here at Qasr Sultanate Academy we have a magical artifact called The Hourglass of Clairvoyance. It’s a giant hourglass with magic sand that allows us to travel to other places. At the beginning of this school year, (Y/N) simply emerged from the sand at the bottom of the hourglass and Grim at the top.”

“Oh, so I'm part of this too? Nice!” Grim comments to himself. “Wait! If I'm part of this... Where's my tuna tray?!”

One of Kalim's retainers appeared beside him with a golden tray and when he uncovers it, it is full of glass jars of tuna stacked in a pyramid.

“That's what I'm talkin' about! Mrah ah ah!”

“Yes! The party is ready. Make yourselves at home and eat up!” Kalim says with a smile. “We've got a whole spread here and plenty more where that came from. To our meeting today! Cheers!”

And everyone does so.

“Mrah... That breeze they're makin' with those big fans feels so good!”

“Right?” Kalim agrees. “The sun's rays can be harsh in the Scalding Sands... But it's also arid, so it's pleasantly cool once you're in the shade. You should try some of these crackers with blue cheese. They're really good. Eat up!” Kalim proceeds to shove the crackers down Grim's throat.

They talk a little more about Qasr Sultanate Academy and Night Raven College. Sebek, as expected, found a way to show how proud he was to serve the great Malleus Draconia, and Kalim proved to be quite knowledgeable about Briar Valley's textile products thanks to the things his father told him. This also made Sebek mention the story of the King who got rid of all the spinning wheels in the kingdom to save his daughter, and Kalim says that he finds the story as beautiful as the story of the Ruler of the Oasis's daughter who fell in love with a commoner and in order to see his daughter happy, the Ruler of the Oasis changed the law so that she would be allowed to marry whoever she wanted and not just someone from royalty.

“I can imagine how happy the couple was.” Kalim says before turning to you, holding one of you hands affectionately, look you in the eyes and tell you: “I myself would be devastated if I couldn't be with the person I love the most just because of a silly rule.” and he kisses your cheek.

Meanwhile, Vil, Idia and Ortho talk among themselves about that dream, which to anyone else would be crazy enough to be unrealistic, but in the case of a guy as rich as Kalim ends up being plausible enough. They needed to discover the crucial moment in Kalim's life that Malleus' spell was trying to suppress so they could use it to wake him up. They were wondering why he didn't remember NRC, where he seemed to be very happy, when you and Grim joined the conversation.

“Hmm... This could fit what happened with Rook.” Idia theorizes. “A route that avoids a tragedy that unfolds due to attending Night Raven College.”

“What kinda tragedy would Kalim goin' to Night Raven cause...? Ah!” Grim realizes.

“Is it what happened over winter break...?” You question.

“What's all this commotion?” A familiar voice makes itself heard. “What's going on, Kalim? Nobody told me to expect company! How many times must I tell you to always inform me ahead of time when inviting guests? If you had...” You see Jamil wearing the same white and turquoise uniform as you and Kalim. “...I would have arranged for an even finer banquet and a whole band!” And with an uncanny smile on his face.

“JAMIL?!” Everyone says in astonishment.

“I'm surprised you didn't tell me either, (Y/N).”Jamil continues, still with that strange, happy and relaxed smile. “You're usually the one who reminds Kalim of these things when I'm not around. Come now, Kalim! If you're holding such a fun-filled event, you should invite me. After all, aren't we best friends?”

“Sorry about that! I just ran into them over by the fountain when I was looking for (Y/N). They're here from Night... uh... something, an arcane academy in a foreign land.”

“Ooh, I see! I'm Jamil Viper. Like Kalim, I'm a sophomore here at Qasr Sultanate Academy. I hope I can be just as much of a friend to you as my best friend Kalim and his partner (Y/N). Nice to meetcha!”

“What's wrong, (Y/N)?” Kalim asks you as the others introduce themselves back to Jamil. “You're looking at Jamil funny.”

“Oh, it's just... Jamil is not like this, Kalim...”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Hey, Kalim.” Jamil says. “I don't see your favorite ice cream in this spread. Shouldn't you serve that to our guests?”

“I figured they'd want a regular meal first. But hey, I'm getting full, so this should be a good time for it!”

“In that case... You should make a run to the kitchen and fetch some for us, Kalim.”

“He DEFINITELY wouldn't say that!” You, Sebek and Silver say in unison.

“Huh?! What's with the yelling all of a sudden?” Kalim asks.

“Kalim, think long and hard.” Silver says. “You grew up with Jamil. He's your friend. Is this really how he acts?”

“Huh? Wha? You guys know Jamil?”

“Yeah! And all this best friend talk...” Grim says annoyed. “Remember over winter break when you told him you wanted to be friends? He shut that down hard with a big fat 'Not on your life!'”

“Not on... your life? Jamil said that?”

The dream world starts to distort and Kalim begins to remember what happened that day in Scarabia.

“Urgh! What was that just now? Augh, my head!”

“Kalim! Hey, snap out of it!” Fake Jamil interferes. “You people... You're assassins after Kalim, aren't you?! Guards! GUAAARDS!” The floor was painted black by the goop that appeared to transform into the guards. “Seize these street rats!”

While the others fought the darkness figures, you managed to escape and run to Kalim to tell him not to listen to that Jamil.

“Are you going to tell him to believe you?” Jamil says with a mocking smile. “Oh Kalim, there’s someone I'm dying to introduce you to.” He takes out his magic pen. “Say hello to your precious,” he makes your headdress disappear. “Desert” Your upper clothes turn into a worn and baggy t-shirt. “Bloom.” The rest in baggy, torn pants and your shoes disappear.

“(Y/N)?...” He holds your hands and looks into your eyes, confused.

“Not quite.” Jamil stands between the two of you to separate you with a push. “An impostor posing as (Y/N). An identity thief!”

All of that makes Kalim's head hurt even more, the ground becomes unstable and the darkness takes you away from them.

“Kalim, stay with us. (Y/N) is safe inside the academy building, and the guards are here now. It's okay!”

“Hey, Jamil... You're my best friend, right? You wouldn't betray me, right?”

“Of course I wouldn't. Why, the very idea!” Jamil assures him. “Such a terrible thought has never even crossed my mind! Not once!”

“STOP LYIN'!” Grim shouts. “You betrayed Kalim bad, and you knocked us all to the end os the earth!”

The world distorts again and the scenery changes to where you and the others landed that day. The end os the earth, a dark and cold part of the Scarabia desert.

“The ends of the earth...? Whoa! It's freezing!” Kalim is startled. “What's going on here?!”

“Oh, poor Kalim.” Fake Jamil says. “You must be reeling from the shock of betrayal after showing these people such hospitality.”

The world distorts again and the scene returns to Qasr Sultanate Academy.

“Look at me, Kalim. As long as I'm here for you, you've got nothing to worry about... Right?” Fake Jamil uses his signature spell, Snake Whisper, on him. “Kalim, trust me.”

“Rgh...” Kalim closes his eyes as if trying to resist, but when he opens them again his pupils are glowing red. “I trust you... Jamil...”

“He's trying to manipulate you!” You try to warn him again.

“Manipulate... me? Jamil? Augh!” With yet another headache from Kalim, the world distorted again.

“I would never do that. Don't believe that imposter street rat. Look at my sincere gaze. Do these look like the eyes os a liar?”

Vil tells Kalim not to look Jamil in the eyes, but the fake Jamil keeps talking about how they've been friends since they were kids, and how they had always been open and honest with each other, never worrying about their social status. That he is Kalim's closest companion and Kalim is his.

“You're right...” Kalim says despite the headaches. “We're best friends that can be honest with each other... Rrgh!”

But this is where Vil interferes and says that being honest is far from being an attribute of Jamil. That underneath that composed expression, he's poised and ready to strike at the neck of those who dare get ahead of him. And the smoldering, hungry mindset is the reason he put Jamil on main vocals in the NRC Tribe.

That name sounds familiar to Kalim, but the fake Jamil tries again to convince him not to listen to Vil.

But Vil continues, talking more about how Jamil is not the kind of generous soul that affirms everything about him. How Jamil complains, looks down on others, always got a scheme or two up his sleeve, and is hardly trustworthy. Vil would never want someone like him as his most trusted retainer. But Kalim is positively stubborn and that's what makes him continue to insist on trying to be true friends with Jamil. But is also what makes Kalim him and what makes him so fearsome.

“What kind of wealthy business heir is content to remain in an imposter's clutches?” Vil concludes. “Stop cowering and wake up already, Kalim Al-Asim!”

“Kalim, look at me.” Fake Jamil insists. “I'm the only one you trust!”

“Rgh... No.... Not... the only one... Not anymore... and Jamil knows that... the one I trust... Aaagh!”

The memories return to Kalim, a sequence of events from that winter break and everything that followed after that. The dream is broken, and Kalim wakes up. The scene changes to Scarabia's lounge that day, the cloudy sky darkening the place, the red lights on the lamps and through the clouds and a slight chilling fog around you all.

The fake Jamil tries again to help Kalim and show concern, but Kalim pushes him away. It's true that Jamil worries about Kalim, but not because they are friends, because he is the boss of Jamil. He likes and wants to be friends with Jamil, but the real one, not that one.

A battle against that fake Jamil takes place, until that figure turns into black goop and disappears. The clouds dissipate revealing a beautiful starry night sky, the lights turn a warm yellow that illuminates the lounge and the fog disappears.

“Kalim! Are you all right?” Silver asks worriedly as he sees Kalim sobbing and huffing after the fight.

And that's when Kalim breaks down into tears. Seeing him like this, crying kneeling on the floor alone, you can't suppress the urge to kneel down beside him to hug and comfort him.

“How... How could I fail to realize that Jamil was a fake?!” He says crying on your shoulder. “I really do want us to be true friends... The kind that can be totally open with one another! But... in the end, I choose a version of Jamil that fit my own narrative. How can I ever face Jamil again?”

But then Kalim realizes something else, and lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, now dressed in the NRC uniform.

“Wait... You... We are not dating either, are we?... Ah!” He pulls away from you, blushing and almost falling backwards. “Aah, I’m s-sorry! I-I didn't mean to... huh...”

You also liked Kalim, but his friendly and loving personality made it difficult to tell if he really had a crush on you or not. A question that was answered in that dream. However, you still ask about it.

“So... You really like me?”

“Hm? Yes... you never noticed? Ah hah hah! I thought I never hid my feelings.”

“In (Y/N)'s defense,” Vil explains. “It's more a question of when someone is so... loving to everyone, it becomes difficult to know who is really special to you and who is not.”

“REALLY?! Aw... I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean to confuse you. But... I also don't want to make you uncomfortable... I'm sorry if I did...”

You say it was a surprise, but that you didn't feel uncomfortable, quite the opposite, and you reveal your feelings for him too. Kalim gets astonished for a second, but then he shows you the biggest smile and throws himself at you to hug you with more tears in his eyes.

“Should we leave you two alone for a moment?” Ortho asks.

“Ah hah hah! Sorry, sorry.” Kalim stands up and extends his hand to help you get up as well. “It's true that Jamil was the only person I trusted, but that was before I met you. You are the person I trust the most, (Y/N). Now and forever.”

“Kalim is so extra that this sounds more like wedding vows.” Idia comments through the tablet. “Can someone PLEASE end this mushy torture?!”

Vil clears his throat quite loudly. “Far be it from me to ruin the moment, but could we get back to the main topic?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” Kalim turns his attention back to the rest of the group. “I'm totally lost on why I look like this and why any of this is happening. Could someone fill me in on what's going on?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX