#there will probably be more of him there too
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episode of scarabia manga!!
***Manga spoilers below the cut!!***
Let's welcome our new Yuu, Oujou Yuuna~!! She is a very bubbly girly girl thst dresses in gyaru fashion. sdfhlbasofvypvfeq SHE WAS ISEKAI'D WHILE ON HER PHONE... What a way to go... (Her dream is to be a model in Tokyo; this seems to be what her audition was for. She comes from a humble family of rice farmers.)
I like that we finally get a super femme Yuu; it confirms that the Twst boys would treat girls like a regular ass person instead of being weird about it.
She is very girly!! Wears a lot of makeup, curls her hair, does her nails, and has a super cute phone that she keeps on a beaded strap. It has Grim pawprints and a kitty charm on it!! I also like that this is a unique spin on the "photographer" aspect of Yuu. Yuuna is a photographer in her own way! There's a scene where her lashes get messed up (after splashing around in water) and she stops to fix it.
WAH, THEY GET ALONG SO WELL Yuuna goes along with Ace's teasing like it's nothing and happily takes selfies with everyone! She also has her own unique nicknames for each of the NRC boys.
Here is our absentee father abandoning us--/j
Jack with his cacti freaks me out… Is bro not scared he will get pricked, especially when he’s holding them like THAT. asdkhlbabdusoafasd RUGGIE HAS SO MUCH FOOD FOR THE KDIS BACK HOME, IT'S INSANE.
They’re keeping the trend of blurring the faces of OB Boys’ trauma sources.
Twins being the twins…
OKAY.
That’s scary 😨
Kalim, please never ever become like this fr, kk thanks 💀
asfkjlbofvavix SHE LOOKS LIKE A POKEMON TRAINER HERE... AND GRIM IS THE POKEMON USING FLAMETHROWER
YOU DUckING WeirDO, JaMIL 😭 LEAve HER AlOnE…
This is really uncomfortable to read in the manga format because the framing of Jamil when he’s using his UM makes it feel like he’s caging Yuuna in 💦 Good job, mangaka for conveying how unsettling this is.
Yuuna and Grim are sooo cute when they’re eating 😭 I love all the detailed shots of the sky and Kalim’s scepter too… They’re having so much fun together! (The calm before the storm, lol)
Ominous shots…
I love how they sort of have Jamil and Kalim posed similarly, almost as if to imply Jamil’s the shadow pulling Kalim’s strings. The way Kalim’s scarf is thrown back… It reminds me like wind enveloping someone or a snake strangling him. Resembles his countdown art too.
Probably just me projecting though ���♀️ cvshsvejendks This was so much to digest, AhHHHhHHHHH
Bonus: SCArabiA B-kuN WITH EyES!!!!! (He gets many more shots in the manga, but unfortunately Tumblr has a 30 image limit… JUST KNOW tHat thEY EXIST…)
#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland#Kalim Al-Asim#Ace Trappola#Deuce Spade#Grim#Riddle Rosehearts#Leona Kingscholar#Jack Howl#Tweels#Jade Leech#Floyd Leech#Azul Ashengrotto#Scarabia#twst manga#twisted wonderland manga#episode of scarabia#episode of scarabia manga#Dire Crowley#Scarabia B-kun#Octavinelle#Jamil Viper#notes from the writing raven#Oujou Yuuna#Yuuna Oujou#Ruggie Bucchi#Savanaclaw
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Ghost with a girlfriend who is 1.50 😈😈
cw: size kink.
being shorter than most people around and the average height can be more than uncomfortable, sometimes, especially near simon riley, a man that never can hold his hands at his sides, fingers reaching to hold onto your waist and lift you up when you try to reach somewhere, to carry you around, as if without it, you can't see the world around you probably, and sometimes, it's looks like he treats you without needing seriousness.
and even then, it's hard to complain, you're used to tend to the things for yourself, learning how to find right clothes that would suit your short height well, reaching over to the top shelves in grocery shops, making people see you for the way you act, not for your appearance they try to tease you about, but simon looks like overly excited gigant around you, having this unfamiliar, cuteness aggression that makes his hands always reach out for you.
you can't find it in yourself to be angry, truly, not when he helps you so eagerly, even when each time he get's you scooped up in his humongous arms, it's accompanied by the gravelly chuckle that vibrates through his chest, and he has to kiss away the small crease between your eyebrows, apologetic, as his wide palms squeeze over the tiny curve of your delicate waist, no matter the weight at all, it's small for him nonetheless, fitting right along the width of his grasping fingers.
and simon is so utterly smitten, unable to believe how hooked he is by your appearance alone, how easily his sinewy, brawny body can enshroud yours in the shadow of him, how his one hand covers almost the entirety of your chest when splayed over, squish your face, make you wear his clothes around the house to just see the way your body drowns in the too big fabric, his every shirt almost a dress for you.
the sex is something you can't discuss, too embarrassed to even remember of it, because he's absolutely unhinged, feral, hungry for the sight of your stomach bulging out with the heavy outline of his cock, pounding in your tight, fluttering cunt, dribbling rivulets of viscous slick that coats down the rigid girth of him, calloused palms mapping every inch of your overstimulated, twitching body, meeting his rapid, pounding thrusts with sweetest keens, and you can't push him away.
not when simon practically drools over you, silencing your slurring, pitched moans with deep, tongue twisting kiss, plunging your mouth full just the way he stuffs your soppy cunt to the very brim, palming over your cramping, sensitive tummy, pressing as a tease at the outline of his cock, making your gummy walls ripple, spasming violently as you gush, clawing up his sinewy shoulders and neck with crescent, scarlet dents of sharp nails, but he only purrs.
limbs boneless, buzzing with the last sparks of white hot pleasure that simmers low from your gut, and you can't move from beneath his heavy weight, draped over your smaller form to cloak and press you down, his touch still on you, trailing over your curved sides, feeling cottony and unresponsive, and so, you can't do anything except loop your shaking hands around his neck and nuzzle in the crook, succumbing to his affection.
main masterlist. quidelines.
#𐔌 . 𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 .ᐟ#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley comfort#simon riley x female reader#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley comfort#simon riley x you#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley#ghost x f!reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley drabble#ghost thoughts#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon riley headcanons
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More of Spacecraft au Soundwave 🛰️ this time of his front side (continuation from the last post)… I’ve seen a couple of folks confused if the chest thing was a matrix; and originally this was just something I took from his ROTF design but for this au I just made up some lore for it, it’s basically like how in IDW he used the Enigma of Combination with his telepathy except instead of it ending him (albeit with the results he wanted); like he thought it would’ve, it’d fused to him (likely painfully) and maybe later he’d get that touched up and more comfortable to his body considering it can’t really be taken out after that (maybe it’d fused partially into his spark too) also the Enigma probably most likely will work and look differently in this au cuz I said so
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Would it occasionally cause him turmoil in some way? Idk but probably I’d assume considering it almost killed him 😌 not sure if he’d try to avoid letting anyone know about that tho. It’d be like that chest pain where you’re lowkey like “am I dying?” Except worse probably, like he’s completely fine but also the chassis pain. Primus almighty
#RAH RAHHH I LOVE MY SPACE BOYS#I’ll probably touch up Jetfire soon tbh. I have ideas for him#transformers#transformer#transformers au#spacecraft au#soundwave#jetfire#skyfire#transformers g1#transformers rotf#transformers bayverse#tf au#transformers fanart#transformers art#transformers concept design
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header by @/3skumakuma on twt/x :) // mydei brainrot i had to yap about somewhere. NSFW!! MDNI!!
can imagine him rolling his hips so good while fucking, hitting that oh-so-nice spot he can't help but groan with you while you moan out his name. fuck he could never get over that pretty little voice of yours. he needed it so badly, needed to hear that voice mewl every letter of his title, honorific, he needed to listen to you talk about him.
what's the difference between listening and hearing? i'll give you a bit to answer that.
...
it's that listening is to understand, and hearing is just letting the information pass from one ear to another. correct! and what did he need to do? he didn't just want to hear you moan his name, he needed to listen to how good he was making you feel!
especially when he feels your nails dig deep into the strength of his biceps. a pathetic chuckle exited the rasp of his throat, "yeah, 'm sorry baby.. feels s' good right?"
lifting you up better, sitting you up onto the base of his cock properly, and inserting his member into your entrance as easily as earlier. still soaking wet from how long he had been hitting your, and well... now his favorite spot to hit inside you too was being thrust, and grinded against. you could feel your umpteenth orgasm already, as his palm roughly gripped your chin.
"look at what a mess you are for me.. jus' f' me, yeah?" the imprint of his dick was clear as the sky in your stomach literally had you aching looking at it, both mentally and physically. the more you stared at the scene in the reflection, the more red rushed up your body and onto your face.
his calloused hands were placed on your waist, rough, purple marks were just as imprinted as his dick was on your torso. "y'know you could always tap out, baby." he knew how little your stamina was, so before he'd ever go rough, he'd definitely ask before either of you go any further. as long as you say so, don't mind if he does!
VERY into dirty talk, but refrains from degradation, and loves you too much to ever think of insulting you. as well as any nicknames that would ever make you doubt yourself or whatever.
+ great aftercare because he's the goat, plus it's also canon he's very good (or just good) with children, so you love getting to observe that side of him when you both get to go out. idk why i discussed this at the very last. ill make it a different post about it probably:^
#──── resin: performances#hsr fanfic#hsr x reader#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr x reader smut#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#star rail#smut#mydeimos#mydei#hsr mydei#mydei x reader#honkai star rail mydei#honkai star rail smut x reader#mydei x you#mydei x y/n#mydeimos x reader
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Sleep - Leon Kennedy
Words: 1.6k
Summary: Leon can't help but crave physical affection from his girlfriend.
CW: language, cold!reader, re4 leon but re2 puppy leon is def lurking, he is a BABYYY, hint of some 2000s toxic masculinity?
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_______
Leon was pretty content with his relationship.
Another agent, but in the FBI. A strong and resourceful woman who didn’t mind him constantly being gone on dangerous missions, considering she was busy with her own. She didn’t mind his closed-off personality because she was probably more closed off than him.
And she didn’t mind his dry dad jokes. Another plus.
She also never pestered him for his lack of physical affection. He always gave her a kiss when he would first see her and one when they said their goodbyes. A handhold every now and then. But he barely touched her. She barely touched him.
He was content with that
…Yeah, he was lying.
Sure, he tried to give off a cold and dark vibe. A demeanor that showed he was not one to be fucked with. But damn, even the baddest bitches need to be held every now and then.
Sometimes, his girlfriend would stay at his place for the night. The first time it happened, he didn’t dare admit it, but he was excited. Excited to not sleep alone, to sleep next to the woman he claimed his, to feel her warmth in his arms.
Then, when they laid in bed, she had said a gruff “goodnight”, turned her back to him, and passed out. Not even a kiss. An “I love you”. Nothing.
Did she even love him?
He questioned that often. Why didn’t she ever kiss him? Touch him? Showed him any affection? Then again, why didn’t he? They both gave each other the bare minimum. But that wasn’t what he wanted.
Fuck. Even the baddest bitches wanted to feel loved.
Like right now. He was seated in bed, fiddling with his fingers as she laid curled up next to him. Practically on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible. Like he was diseased or something.
Maybe there was something he was doing wrong. Maybe he wasn’t loving her right. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be touched. Didn’t deserve to feel love.
But what did he do wrong? What did he do to not deserve a simple fucking hug from his girlfriend? Why couldn’t she initiate a kiss? Hold his hand? Nothing?
Fuck, stop thinking like that, Kennedy. Be grateful you even have a girlfriend.
And so he laid down, burying his head in the fluffy pillow and shutting his eyes. Back turned to her, like they always slept. Like they didn’t even like each other. He had thought finally getting a girlfriend would make it all better. He wouldn’t feel as lonely and sad. He just wanted to feel wanted.
So why did the bed feel more cold with someone in it than without?
Just stop fucking thinking and sleep already. Fucking loser.
Trying to steady his breathing, he brought the blanket up to his chin, suddenly feeling cold as goosebumps formed on his skin. It was almost fucking spring, for fucks sake. Maybe it was because he had the coldest woman on the planet in his bed that he felt like this.
Yeah, that’s probably what it was-
Wait.
He couldn’t tell if it was a hallucination or a dream, but he could have sworn he felt arms slowly wrapping around his waist. Felt the bed stir slightly as she scooted closer to him, her chest to his back. What the fuck what the fuck what the-
She was holding him. She was actually fucking holding him. Was he in the fucking Twilight Zone? Yes, he had to be, because there was no way his girlfriend had her arms around him.
Holy shit.
Hesitantly, Leon reached down, placing his hands atop hers, feeling… warmth? Feeling something he hasn’t felt in years. Tracing his fingers over her soft skin, her well-manicured nails, feeling her breath on his neck. Fuck, this was just a little touch and he felt so fucking happy. Something so small finally made him feel somewhat wanted.
Honestly sad. This simple gesture was enough to get him giddy.
Giddy and eager to hold her too, slowly turning in her grip. She moved as well, unconsciously repositioning herself on her back, an arm still lazily keeping him close. With a smile, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Pressing his face in the spot connecting her neck and shoulder. She smelt so good.
Look, Leon was a big guy. Broad-shouldered and muscular. However, this was probably the safest he ever felt. In a long fucking time.
So you can’t judge him for tearing up a bit. A lot. Sniffling against her neck as he held onto her tightly, resisting the urge to cry like a fucking baby.
“Babe?”
Shit.
He laid limp against her, hoping she’ll somehow assume he was asleep and leave it alone. A dumb thought. As if she couldn’t feel his tears on her skin and hear his ragged breathing. Maybe she’d think he’s just having a nightmare. Yes! This wouldn’t be the first time he had a nightmare-
“Babe,” she repeated gently, and he felt her fingers trail from his spine to his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with her nails, “What’s wrong? I know you’re awake so stop playing,”
Before he could respond, she tugged at his hair, not enough to hurt, but to get what she so impatiently wanted. His attention, which she had when he finally peeked up at her, stormy blue eyes meeting hers. “Nothing,”
“Bullshit, you’re literally crying,” she rubbed at his scalp again gently, “Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, I don’t really want to talk about it,” he replied, tapping the pads of his fingers against her hip absentmindedly, “I’m fine,”
“Am I supposed to believe that?” she chuckled softly, lifting his chin up and cupping his cheek, thumb brushing against his cheekbone in a soothing motion, “C’mon, I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re upset,” He didn’t even know how to respond. Her hot-and-cold personality made it so difficult for him to know what would be considered okay to say.
“I’m… I’m not upset,”
Her brow raised in disbelief, “You’re not upset? Am I imagining these tears then?” With her thumb, she swiped one off of his face, “Hm, no. Not imagining anything,”
“They’re…” he gulped, embarrassed, “...happy tears,”
“Oh? And what caused these happy tears?”
He could hear it in her tone already. She was ready to tease the fuck out of him. So with a huff, Leon sat back up, crossing his arms over his toned chest in annoyance. “Nothing,”
“What do you mean nothing?” She sat up as well, tilting her head to the side as she eyed him in curiosity. “Just tell me what’s up already!”
“You fucking held me!” he broke, burying his face into his hands in embarrassment.
Silence.
“Ughhhh,” he grumbled, swinging his legs over the bed, ready to leave. Jump out the window and dive proudly to the street and die, maybe. Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea.
“Wait!” he then felt her arms go around his shoulders from behind, “Stay!”
And like a dog, he stayed put. Still with the pouty and embarrassed look on his face, staring straight ahead at him at the window he so desperately wanted to jump through.
“That made you cry?” his girlfriend whispered, head resting on his shoulder, “I was just hugging you from behind…”
He felt a tad bit more pathetic now. “I know. You… you never did that before,” he hesitantly raised a hand to graze her arm, soaking in the physical touch as much as possible.
“I suppose not,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “You always seem so closed off. I figured you didn’t want to be touched, which is why I always just let you initiate contact,”
“I…” he bit his lip, trying to form the words in his head before saying them out loud. Trying to describe how he felt without hurting his manhood.
But fuck, yes, even the baddest bitches need to be spooned from time to time.
“I do want to be touched,” he mumbled out, “You’re my girlfriend. I want you to touch me, I want to touch you. I thought you didn’t want to be touched,”
“You’re kidding?” she laughed gently, next kiss going to his neck, right on his pulse point, “Literally every night I stay at your place, my arms are around you at some point while we’re sleeping. Can’t help myself,”
That made him shift his body to face her, eyes slightly widened, brows furrowed as he processed his words. This wasn’t the first time? She… did this literally every night she was here? “Really?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, taking his hands in hers, “You know, you could have just told me you wanted some affection, babe.”
“That’s embarrassing…” his eyes darted away again, cheeks flushed red. He could still feel her eyes on him, making his cheeks redden further.
“So unmanly, isn’t it?” she teased gently.
“Shut up,”
She giggled, releasing his hands and laying back onto the bed, head resting comfortably on the pillow. Arms opening, she said, “C’mon. It’s late and we both have to be up early!”
He hesitated. Because, well, he was a dumb ass. Falling asleep cuddled up to his girlfriend like a fucking baby? How fucking embarrassing-
Ugh, sign him the fuck up.
The hesitation lasted a possible two seconds before he laid next to her, accepting the embrace while snaking his arms around her waist as well. Accepting a little kiss to his forehead and a soft “I love you” that left her lips.
Handing her an “I love you too” back before getting the best sleep he literally ever had.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#re2#re4#re2 remake#re4 remake#resident evil#resident evil 2#resident evil 4#leon re2#leon kennedy re2#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#jill valentine#chris redfield#rebecca chambers#claire redfield#carlos oliveira#sheva alomar
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exhibition ― s. jy
Requested by anonymous via tumblr: cam boy jake. That’s it.Jake is your college roommate and he needs to buy a camera for his online classes. Curiosity gets the better of him, leading to a lot of extra money and, well, finding out that you’ve been a little too curious about what he's doing. Or the one where your roommate flaunts his secret job at you, not thinking you’d go out and search for him. And definitely not thinking you’d be getting off to him either.
MDNI
WORDCOUNT― 4.9k
PAIRING― cam boy jake x afab reader
CONTENT― college setting but it’s mosting within the apartment they share, cam boy jake, confused best friend reader, smut WARNINGS― none but brief mention of mommy kink in passing
NOTE―this isn't proof read ;o;
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Seven hundred.”
“What?” “That’s how much I made last night,” Jake’s eyes shine brighter and brighter with each word, a crooked smile plastered across his face as he sleepily blinks. “I didn’t even have to do anything weird either.”
You pause as you sip your morning coffee, wrapped up in a blanket and head pounding at the amount of stress and work you’ve had to get done while he was too busy playing with himself on camera for dozens of people. Or maybe hundreds. Thousands?
“What did you do then?” You raise a brow, not entirely checked in on his boasting this morning, though it is impressive.
Jake always shares how much he makes after each session. What started with fifteen dollars is now reaching seven hundred. Surely your best friend isn’t just jerking off, right?
“Well, it was a little weird, but not that bad.” He avoids the question with a vague answer, suddenly feeling his face heat up. “Just a little here and there, y’know?”
You narrow your eyes instantly. So he does do weird shit for money! You knew it! No way could someone make that much money in such a short span of time by regular jerking off.
“Just a little what?” You stare him down, now placing your coffee on the table and leaning towards him. He knows better than anyone that you, of all people, can point out if he lies. Meaning, he has to be honest.
And so, he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about it.
“Mommy.” He says it like he’s saying any other word, as if he’s uncaring, as if it was worth the money. “Just had to say it a few times and the money came pouring in.”
Your eyes narrow at him even more.
“What else?” You question. “There’s no way they’d accept it unless you…”
He raises his brow at you now, tilting his head in cheeky curiosity.
“Unless I cried? Edged? Let them torture me a little bit?” He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”
You’re a bit shocked, the images of what that must have looked like for his viewers forcing your curiosity to grow. His smug face looking back at you now serves as proof that he very well may be into that kind of thing. Almost like he’s sharing a kink with you, which…is not something the two of you do.
Despite being roommates, and without any mention of how long you’ve been friends, sex has never been a topic until he started this whole camboy thing.
You remain calm though. This is Jake you’re talking to. He’s the last person you want to see drooling and cumming all over himself.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, you’re a liar.
All day, all fucking day you’ve thought about it. It’s not that you’re into the kink, or even that you’re into Jake. You’re just…curious about how smug he is about it. And yeah, it’s probably just a huge confidence boost to have all sorts of people rubbing one out to you while paying your bills, but still.
You’re only a liar because that so-called confidence makes him more open about it. More loud. More comfortable. More…horny?
You can tell by now, weeks after he started. You could never hear a peep from his bedroom, not a single moan or sigh at first. Now though, he’s only gotten louder. You hear the moans, the dirty talk into his camera, the usernames, all of it.
“Thank you–mmf– cumslut2000.”
God, you hate that you didn’t cringe hearing him say that. It was the moan mid-sentence maybe, or the sultry tone you’ve never heard from him until now. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together with an annoyed groan, practically leaping for your headphones shortly after because, absolutely the fuck not.
Not Jake. It’s too weird.
And the days pass like that, casual with him as he discusses his pay where you no longer question because now you’d just think too hard about the details. The nights pass like that too, where he’s louder, louder, louder, until you can almost hear him through your muffled videos and playlists.
Until you are forced to feel the arousal just like the rest of his viewers. You can’t escape the attraction despite wishing, hoping, fucking praying for your head to stop wanting to hear more.
You know better than anyone though, hoping and praying does nothing for you and the only thing that will help this situation between your legs is seeing. Proving to yourself, so to say, that seeing Jake act like that will feel gross. It will turn you off. It will solidify that Jake is your best friend and your roommate, nothing more.
It’s easy to find him too. All you had to do was abandon your headphones tonight, waiting for him to introduce himself via username to his stream.
Doggystyle02.
That’s what he picked? He can’t be fucking serious.
You’re excited as you google the username, enabling NSFW search and finding him within seconds. Excited to lose the interest that’s driving you up a fucking wall, that is. And before you click into his stream, you inspect.
Yeah, that’s definitely his abs oiled up in his profile picture. You choose to ignore his uh…thing under his sweats, heavy, leaving a little spot on the front of them.
Oh, 23k followers? And he started two, maybe three months ago? People want Jake that badly? And you just…live here with him? You get to see him daily, and hear him playing all these kinky roles in real life? God, you just know if the viewers knew they’d be saying shit like “If i lived with you, I’d be on that cock every day.” Blah, blah, blah.
They don’t know Jake like you know him. He’s just a dude, not some sex god.
Then…something in your gut stirs. It flips, it bubbles, your face warms up. The comments on his profile asking him all sorts of things, saying all sorts of things and he just…responds? Reciprocates?
Cumslut2000 comments: god i want you to hold me down and make me take it
Doggystyle02: Don’t sweet talk me like that, you know how I get.
Oh, does she now? How the fuck would she know anything about Jake. Your best friend. Your roommate.
DPlover: can we plllleeease do another private show?
Doggystyle02: book me for later, i’ll even give you a discount <3
Another private show?! A fucking discount?!
Blushy: im too shy to talk when you’re online but i really, really want you.
Doggystyle02: you wanna talk in private? I’ll message you and bring you right out of that shell. let me take care of you baby
You’re speechless. During his private job, where he doesn’t share his name but he shows his fucking face, he publicly talks to people like this? He’s never so much as looked at you for too long after you’ve gotten out of the shower, yet he wants to take care of a fucking loser ass bitch who is too shy to talk to him?
Sexually?!
Safe to say, never in your life did you ever think you’d find yourself jealous of people who get Jake’s attention. To you, he’s always just been, well, Jake. The guy who ran up your apartment stairs on all fours the day you moved in, the boy who constantly did your homework for you in highschool because he knew you wouldn’t graduate with him if he didn’t, the absolute best friend who followed you to the same college, saved you from the dorms by becoming your roommate, and now…somehow, seems…more than just what he was before.
Surely you’re just horny though. Curious, in the mood, whatever. Anyone would be when there’s a porn set just a wall over, right?
You shake your thoughts, knowing you’ll just make yourself sick if you keep reading all of his little public comments and start wondering what he says in private to them. You scroll up instead, glancing at his abs again before your eyes land directly on what you were trying so hard to avoid.
He’s kind of packing, you can’t lie. If he wasn’t Jake, you’d probably be ogling, rubbing out to him just like everyone else. Hah. You chuckle, shaking your head at your own stupidity, ready for these weird feelings to be eradicated the second you click into his stream.
Except…jesus fucking christ.
The comments roll in faster than you can read. The money is pouring in, and he’s sitting there on camera with that same dopey grin he gives you every morning. There’s something else with his smile though, a little lip bite, some tongue darting action to wet his lips. Hair falling into his eyes…jesus.
After a minute or two of staring at your best friend’s face, ignoring the movement of his shoulders attached to the hand that’s…doing something, a pop up covers his image entirely.
SIGN UP OR LOG IN TO CONTINUE WATCHING…
Never in your life have you signed up for something so fast, typing in a string of cute letters and numbers to differentiate yourself in the sea of horny viewers. And then his image is back, and your eyes trail straight down.
Instantly you choke up, watching the way he uses his hands with that expression on his face. It really is just typical jerking off but…something about it. Something about the way he flicks his own nipples with a seething lip bite, bucking his hips up before shining his pouting eyes into the camera, as if wishing any or all viewers were there to do it for him. And god, the way he looks kind of wet? Like, oiled up or lotion, maybe lubed up, you don’t know. His hips slide that thing through his fist so easily, making squelching sounds all the while.
That’s…that’s really him. And he’s not even ten feet from your bedroom door looking like this. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to get up and interrupt him.
What would you even do? What would you say?
So, you just watch, completely forgetting that you were doing this to get rid of the curiosity, not feed into the sexuality of a man you’ve known for so long as nothing more than your closest friend.
Over a thousand dollars made in just one stream by the time he logs off, and those moans echo in your brain. Hearing them so clearly through your headphones just…wow. And, well, you did your best.
You swore you’d never get off to the image of Jake after all this curiosity started, it’s just, you can’t help it now. At least he wasn't on your screen, moaning and whimpering for all the faceless people watching. You waited. Your belly burned and your clit throbbed through all of it, and only when he made a mess of himself with that same fucking smile before logging off did you finally give yourself what you needed.
You don’t know why you did that, and you don’t know why the muffled stream of his shower just down the hallways is what sticks in your head when you finally reach your own orgasm.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Over a thousand this time.”
“Oh?” You awkwardly avoid his eye contact, stiffening your shoulders at the mere mention of his stream from last night.
“Yeah, not sure why they gave me so much this time though…” He trails off briefly, inspecting your posture and sudden defensive stance. “I didn’t even do any of the kinks.”
Well…you know why he made that much. He wouldn’t even need to feed the fetish crowd to make a decent living off of this, not with a face like that, a cock like that. It’s only natural he starts making more and more with each lengthy stream.
“Yeah, that’s weird.” You answer shortly, rummaging through cabinets despite your lunch sitting on the table across from him.
“Yeah…” He notes the shift, feeling tension in the air. “Are you okay?”
“What? Me?” You ground both feet on the floor now, abandoning the cabinet as you turn towards him and look to the floor.
You can’t do it. You can’t look at him.
“I’m perfectly fine, what gives you that idea?”
You hear him stand from the table, taking his usual Jake-esque strides toward you. Then, he leans forward and tilts his head, chasing your eyes with his own and forcing you to look at him.
“Well, you haven’t even looked at me all morning,” He smiles, tapping your chin. “Was I too loud or something? Did it make you feel awkward?”
Oh, an out! An excuse!
“No, no, I just –”
Now, why the fuck did you say no? Why are you looking at him now, stopping mid-sentence entirely stunned because, yep, that’s him alright. You saw him cum. You watched him do it, you listened, and you fucking liked it.
And now you’re looking him in the face, and he’s giving you that same smile, and you’re…oh god.
“I–”
He tilts his head again, blinking twice before narrowing his eyes.
“Spit it out. What happened? Jay do something?”
Your words are caught in your throat, cheeks hot, stomach doing flips…Your eyes glance down without intention, right to his groin and he sees it. He even pulls back a bit, looking surprised before softening his expression.
“Don’t tell me you–” His voice is softer now too, but he calls out your name. “Why are you being so weird?”
You can tell he doesn’t want to make the assumption, and arguably, you’re bad at hiding things from him.
“I kind of, like, accidentally saw your stream last night.” You say it so fast, avoiding eye contact again by embarrassingly staring right between his legs. “It feels weird now.”
He laughs. He fucking laughs, but it’s kind of like, a smug laugh? A chuckle?
“Oh now it’s weird?” He rolls his eyes. “Relax, it’s not weird.”
“It is though! You’re, well, you! I didn’t need to see that!”
“Then why’d you watch?” He smirks, reaching a hand out to tilt your chin up at him again. And he’s done this many times in the past. Platonic, lovely little touches from someone who will protect and appreciate you. This though, this is…
“Go on. Tell me. Why is it weird now?” He encourages you to admit it. “Because you liked it?”
You remain silent, unwilling to answer.
“I grossed you out?”
“No!” An immediate disagreement there, one that only digs your hole deeper. “I just–didn’t expect that.”
“So you did watch it.” He leans back now, crossing his arms and staring you down. “Did you enjoy yourself?
What is he fucking asking right now? The worst part about this is if you don’t answer, it’s still a fucking answer. But you don’t want to like, lie, because already you couldn’t even make it through a fucking morning with him after seeing it. So, with the smallest voice you have, so small you hope he can’t hear it, you whisper.
“Yes.”
And if you were to look him in the face right now, you’d have seen that smug look go to curiosity. You’d have seen the split second of his adoration for you merging with a new view, a new feeling, and possibly a new need.
“Wait, did you–?” He even feels a bit shy now, his ears practically on fire as he keeps his eye on you, and the way you curl in on yourself with the admittance. “Did you..touch yourself?”
A small nod, you squeeze your eyes shut.
Then you hear him hold his breath, taking a step back from you. You’ve touched yourself to him, he can’t believe it. After all these years, never once looking at him like that…not even he looked at you like that but now?
He pictures it. The way you must’ve been in your room all alone, knowing what he’s doing, searching him up, then confirming it for yourself. You liked it. You liked what you saw and you got off to it.
And now he can’t stop smiling. Proud, he feels proud.
“Well, don’t feel weird.” He finally says, trying to ease your discomfort. “It’s just…a normal thing. I don’t think you’re weird.”
With that, the conversation dies, fades entirely into awkwardness as you both split off.
You need space to think.
He needs space to think.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re doing it again, as if just this morning you didn’t have to bury yourself 6 feet under right in front of him.
Neither of you spoke after that. Avoiding each other consistently throughout the day with knowing, growing, and exhausting tension. Yet still, he’s started his stream, and here you are, watching it with a dazed look.
You don’t know how to feel or what to do. Your head doesn’t anyway, your body knows too well what it wants and needs, and you hate yourself for making it so awkward between the two of you. Why did you tell him? You wonder if he’d be uncomfortable knowing you’re watching again, this time knowing your hand will stray as you watch.
You wonder, and wonder, will he think you’re disrespecting your friendship by doing this not once, but twice?
Then, you hear him.
“Can we do some roleplay today?” He speaks out to the chat, cock pressing against his briefs, head tilted with his messy hair in the very computer chair you bought for him.
Last time, he was sprawled out on his bed, and you wonder if he always starts his streams this way.
“I want you to imagine we live together, and you know I’m in my room fucking myself, begging, needy for anything, anyone to touch me.” He looks into the camera. “Let’s say you’d hear it too. I’m loud on purpose…”
“Tell me what you’d do to me.”
You stare forward blankly, frozen on the spot at his words, then your eyes flick to the chat.
“You wouldn’t see the front door ever again.”
“I’d be on you within seconds.”
“You wouldn’t even be able to turn your camera on, just come home and I'd be waiting.”
Oh.
Jake hums at the responses, whispering them to himself.
“Ah,” Jake reads a specific comment with a nod. “I’d be an idiot to not jump at the opportunity.”
And the rest of his words become muffled as your ears pop. Is he…talking about you right now? Was he expecting you to watch again?
“If that ever happens to me, just know I’d be grateful for all of you. Running to help me feel good, you’re all so good to me.” He giggles now. Fucking giggles. “Alright, enough of that.”
Jake stares into the camera again, and you can’t help it. It feels like he’s staring at you. Straight through your fucking soul at this point.
“I have a lot of stress to relieve.” He ends on that note, skewing his pants down and making haste.
He’s not slow or cute with it like he was before. He’s aggressive, almost frustrated. His eyebrows furrow, his lips become red from his biting and chewing, and you watch the money flood in.
The comments blurring past, words of, “Oh fuck,” and “This is new.” before suddenly, you hear an irritated sigh. A string of curse words pour from his lips, his hand squeezing the base of his cock so tightly, and spurts of cum shooting up his chest, only to drip down slowly.
“What a waste.” He comments shortly at himself, heaving in a breath before he breaks out into his usual smile. “Sorry to end on such a short note, just thought I’d let you guys join me for a quickie!”
Then he’s gone, the stream lasting about ten minutes in total.
And apparently so is your fucking sanity because why is it that now you find yourself getting out of your bed, feeling the wet between your legs drip, and you’re heading for your bedroom door just to get to him?
Why is he standing right outside, as if he was already waiting for you to open it?
And it’s silent now as you stare at each other. Him, with his sweatpants skewed over his waist, cum still on his chest, breath still uneven. Then you, practically vibrating to get on him.
“You’re looking at me like you want me to eat you out.” He says, already pushing you right back through your bedroom door, letting you flop back on your bed as he instantly pulls at your shorts. “Want me to kiss you first?”
You feel your head spin the second you flop back and feel your shorts being pulled off, and before you can even comprehend his question, he’s already kissing you. Hot, heated. He sounds just as frustrated as he did just minutes ago getting off by himself. You don’t even mind the cum on his chest, nor the way he spreads your legs with his knee to get more comfortable.
It’s happening. This is what kissing Jake feels like. This is what everyone wants from him, but it’s you that’s getting it. Has he always been like this? Good at kissing? Firm with his movements? Confident as he kisses down, down, down, giving you what he thinks you want?
You do want it. Perhaps you were looking at him like you wanted him to eat you out, and now he’s doing it. Breathing shortly right against your clit without so much as savoring his view before diving in, tongue instantly licking from your hole straight to your clit and sucking.
He hums around the taste, both hands holding your inner thighs and keeping your legs open. And he just…keeps humming, licking and sucking you so good that you can’t help but cry out and tug at that fucked up mess of hair on his head.
Jake likes that. He likes the way you hold your breath and the way your legs shake around his ears. He likes even more the way he knew you were watching him tonight, and that you looked like you were coming straight to his room to jump him.
So strange how quickly things can change, so strange how good his best friend must have tasted all these years, and he had never once considered it. And now, he blinks up at you, seeing the way you close your eyes and breathe through it, like you’re calming yourself down, thinking both too much and not at all.
Easily he runs his hands up and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your belly before gently running his palms over your perked nipples. He continues to stare up, watching you, tasting you, loving this a little more than he ever knew he would.
He did want you, he does want you. His cock has been aching all day for you since the moment he found out you thought of him. Jake thinks you’d be tight, because lord knows you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute, and that quick jerk off session was absolutely for you.
He wants to show off to you, wants you to see him more than anyone else can. Yet, it’s you he’s seeing more of right now and he doesn’t mind that so much.
His eyes flick back down, allowing his fingertips to toy gently with your nipples as he skews his head, essentially making out with your pussy, slurping the slick you offer and not letting a single bit of it go to waste. Then, he dips in, pointing his tongue right against your pulsing hole and pressing in.
There’s that tug of his hair again, your legs squeezing around him and your hips bucking up.
Oh, you like that.
So, he does it harder and with more focus. He squeezes his eyes shut and prepares to not breathe for a bit, licking as far into you as he can, his nose easily pressing your clit in such a beautiful way that all you can do now is moan.
Genuinely moan for him. His name in a little hiccup followed by a curse.
Fuck, you’re so hot to him right now. Anyone would be fucking lucky to be in your bed at all, and finally it’s him. As if he’s been waiting for years despite never needing a turn previously.
And this continues until he can’t breathe, his fingers growing more needy against your tits, his tongue reaching deeply before pulling out and allowing him to take a deep breath that is scented entirely in you. Then, he fucking nuzzles it.
You glance down with a heaved breath, legs shaking as you watch him do it. Eyes closed gently, rubbing his nose and lips against your clit in such a gentle, loving way that it has you melting instantly.
“Jake–” You whisper in a breath, the first word you’ve said to him since you opened your bedroom door.
All he does is shoot his gaze to you and continues his nuzzles, uncaring of whatever you need to say if it isn’t you asking him to fuck you right now. And arguable, you have nothing to say anyway.
You just…needed to say his name. Needed to solidify that you just broke a boundary with him willingly, and he doesn’t care. You don’t care.
You feel the thumping in your chest, your clit throbbing with each little rub he lends before you sit up slightly on your elbows, balancing yourself before reaching a hand down.
He leans into your palm on his cheek, like a puppy wanting love. Then his hands leave your chest and find their way to your hips. His doe eyes instantly sharpen, and you’re instantly being pushed back down to your bed.
“Want me to be whatever you want? Let you do whatever you want to me?” He finally says, licking his lips as he makes his way up to hover over you, making sure to lift your shirt enough to expose both of your tits. “Just like I ask?”
You find yourself nodding before taking it back, shaking your head.
“I don’t want it to be like that–” You trail off, avoiding his intense gaze and suddenly feeling very vulnerable under him. “I just want you. The Jake I’ve always had.”
Another shocked look reaches his expression. He’s a bit surprised, assuming that all of this was simply because you watched his stream and didn’t expect to be so turned on. He thought this would be a one and done thing. A “let’s forget this ever happened,” thing.
But you want him? Not the acting? Not the kinks, or the cocky grinning? You want the best friend in him, the part of him that was never sexual, never confident, never willing to approach women.
He looks at you in question.
“I don’t know how to be that right now.” He finally says, pressing his hips down and against you with a choked moan. “How can I be that when I want to fuck you so badly?”
You find yourself smiling, running your hands through his hair to get it out of his face before shrugging.
“When have we ever known what we were doing?” You ask quietly, wincing slightly at how hard he’s gotten, knowing that you’re not having to see him through a screen now.
That’s all he needed to hear before keeping eye contact and reaching down with one hand. You can’t bare to look down, knowing some sort of embarrassing sound will leave your throat. You decide to feel it instead.
And goddamn, do you fucking feel it.
He slides in easily, but the size of him stretches you far past anything you could have imagined. This is him, he’s this big. This is what Jake’s cock feels like and it has your chest caving in over it.
All you can do is hug him, clinging to him through the stretch and hoping the way your cunt squeezes around him isn’t hurting him.
“God, fuck.” He says in a quick whisper, arms shaking to hold himself up as you hug him. “You’re so tight, fuck.”
You smile against his messy chest at the compliment, basking in it really before allowing yourself to freely adjust. Your body clenches him tightly, and he remains still through it until he can’t anymore.
He drops to the bed, flush against you without warning and the moans start pouring from his chest. He can’t stop even if he wanted to, can’t control his hips, his words, his thoughts.
He just lays here flush against you, letting his hips move freely and rapidly. In, out, in, out. So clumsy, so loud, and goddamn does it feel fucking amazing.
You moan alongside him, petting his hair with each thrust, feeling his cheek against your tits move with each drop of his jaw. Even when his moans are silent, you know he feels good and that makes you happy.
None of those little bitches in his chat could get him like this, surely. He’s not acting right now. He’s Jake.
And that’s what makes it so good, you think. That’s why he has so much cum to put in you, apologizing through it all because the fear of this act comes with the orgasm. Apologizing for fucking you, for cumming in you, for getting off so quickly, promising you that he’ll make you cum too.
It’s then that you realize, when he’s got his face back down between your legs, sucking his mess out of you…maybe you have feelings now.
And maybe that’s not such a bad thing either.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
remember that you can get early access and/or tip me via patreon! love and comments would be appreciated <3<3<3<3
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✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT
♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei
⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).
⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.
⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.
⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.
⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.
⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)
⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.
♡ Castorice
⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!
⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.
⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.
⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.
⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.
⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!
⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!
⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa
⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??
⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.
⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.
⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.
⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?
⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."
⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.
⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3
#fleuriion#writing#hsr#honkai star rail#mydei x reader#mydei x y/n#hsr mydei#phainon x reader#phainon x y/n#hsr phainon#aglaea x reader#hsr aglaea#castorice x reader#hsr castorice#anaxa x reader#hsr anaxa#x reader#hsr x reader
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٠ ࣪⭑ helpless without you
warnings : phone sex. male masturbation. female masturbation. degradation (?). praising. sub!matt. dom!reader. nothing else?
matt couldn’t help himself when you had left to go clubbing with some of your friends—the tight red dress you wore, hugging your curves just right in all the right places. it was embarrassing how hard he had gotten when you gave him a simple kiss on the cheek, telling him you’d be back later tonight.
he tried to distract himself—he really did—but when he saw some photos you posted only two hours in of being there. he absolutely lost it.
his back rested against the headboard of the bed, sweats and boxers pulled down to his mid thighs as his fist wrapped itself tightly around his cock. his tip, pink and swollen leaking pre-cum as he squeezed each time he moved up—just as you would.
but he was growing frustrated. little whines and whimpers falling from his chewed up lips as he tried to cum. but he couldn’t. he was right there on the edge, but nothing could tip him over.
not even the picture of you he was staring at.
tears began to brim his waterline, a recked sob slipping past his lips as his fist moved faster—desperate to cum. but eventually he slowed, the hand holding his phone exiting the photos app as he opened your contact. quickly clicking the dial button.
when you picked up the phone, your breathing was heavy—the sound of music thumping quietly in the background, like you had wandered off to a separate room.
“matt? is something wrong?” you asked, your voice breathless and sweet—he could tell you had a few drinks. he whined at the sound of your voice, his fist beginning to pick up speed once more.
he took in a shaky inhale, then another breathy whine before he spoke. “n-no..m’sorry.” he pants, voice already sounding a wreck. “t-tried without you, but i—fuck—i can’t.”
you smirked to yourself. “tried to what baby? hm?” you teased, knowing full well what he couldn’t do—the wet squelches flowing in from his side of the line.
matt moaned, squeezing his fist tighter around his cock. “c-couldn’t—haa—couldn’t cum.” he squeaked out. you hummed in amusement, already picturing him—sprawled out on the bed, flushed and desperate, hand working himself over but not enough.
“pathetic.” you murmured, voice laced with mockery. “sound so desperate, whining and humping your fist f’me.” and a broken moan tore from his throat, his breathing ragged through the speaker.
“m’not-“ he cuts off with a choked whimper, his hips jerking up into his hand. “m’not humping.”
lies.
you let out a sharp knowing laugh. moving yourself to sit on the counter of the bathroom you were in. you knew full well that he was—knew he was too far gone to stay still, rutting into his own fist. probably imagining it was your own.
“oh, sweet boy, don’t lie to me.” you purred, your own legs spreading as your free hand came down to toy with the end of your dress. “bet you’re so worked up huh? making a mess all over yourself.” slowly your hand moved to the inside of your thigh, moving up until your fingers pressed against your clothed clit.
the fabric was damp, matts little noises had gotten to you. you hadn't realized your own breathing had picked up, too focused on how your sweet boy sounded. slowly, you moved the clothing to the side—fingers making contact with your sensitive nub. a loud moan slipped from your lips. your head tilting back against the bathroom mirror.
matt heard—of course he did, and he slowed his fist, a whine emitting at the loss of friction. your fingers moved down, sliding through your wet folds before plunging inside core, already starting a brutal pace. "f-fuck..matt baby, making mommy feel so good." you groaned, your hips rutting forward to grind against your hand. "gonna be a good boy for me and keep going?"
matt nodded, even though you couldn't see him from the other side of the line. his hand started to move again, hips rutting up into his closed hand. you could hear the faintest sound of the bed creaking under him. "mhm—be so good f'you mommy." he moaned. the wet squelching from him and you combined was lewd, but it only made you move your fingers faster, legs spreading wider.
"doin' so g-good baby." you muttered, fingers moving quickly in and out of your slick walls. you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, already so close to cumming. matt chokes on a moan, hissing. "p-please." he whines, voice cracking. "mommy please—keep talking, m'so—mmph—s'close."
"yeah?" you breathed, a whimper echoing in the room as your fingers prodded at your g-spot. "wanna cum for me baby?"
"y-yes." he gasps, breath hitching. "please. please let me." he sounded so fucked out, so so pretty. you moaned once more, legs beginning to shake as his noises shot straight through your core. "m'so close too matt." you breathed. "b-be a good boy and cum. cum with me baby."
a loud sob sounds from the other end of the line. his whole body tensing as he cums hard, whimpering your name over and over again like a prayer. and thats what makes you loose it—your own body tensing as slick gushed around your fingers, thighs shaking and moans spilling past your lips.
you both ride out your highs, shaky cries flowing into your ear as matt spilled over his hand and his thighs. every sound making heat flare through you as your hips slowly come to a stop. for a long moment, the only thing filling the quiet space is your combined ragged, uneven breathing and the faint rustling of sheets as matt shifts.
he was the first one to speak. "thank you mommy." he whispered, voice hoarse and tired. you smirked, body slumped against the bathroom counter. "you're welcome baby. did so good for me." you murmured back slowly removing yourself off the counter and fixing yourself.
"don't do anything else until i get home, okay? m'not done with you yet." was the last thing matt heard before the line went silent.
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nicest guy: 33. the premiere
word count: 15k words (sorryyyy….againnnn) warnings: MDNI!!!!!! explicit sexual content. petnames, spanking, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!), softdom! sunghoon, softdom!jake, all the fucking lot. spoiler alert im so sorry…… thank you…… prev | masterlist | next
You’re still adjusting your dress in the mirror when there’s a knock at your door. Three short taps, casual but expectant. You already know who it is. You smooth your hands down the fabric one last time, inhaling deeply before opening the door.
Jake stands there, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, dressed in an all-black suit that fits him almost unfairly well. His hair is styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he’s looking at you, all wide eyes and slow grin, makes your stomach flip.
“Fuck. Wow.” His voice is almost reverent, his gaze dragging over you from head to toe. “You look insane. Like, actually. This should be illegal.”
You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe just to make things difficult for him. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
Jake’s grin sharpens, his dimples showing as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “I can think of a few things.”
Your heart stutters for a second, but you keep your expression unimpressed. “Yeah? Too bad we have somewhere to be.”
“Five minutes won’t kill anyone,” he argues, slipping past you with ease, closing the door behind him. He barely gives you time to react before his hands find your waist, pulling you in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His cologne is distracting, all warmth and spice, and his lips are just close enough to be dangerous.
“You’re trouble,” you murmur, your hands finding his shoulders.
“I could say the same about you.”
And then he kisses you, slow and teasing at first, before he deepens it, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you. He tastes like mint and something sweeter, something distinctly Jake, and it’s so easy—too easy—to melt into him.
But you don’t, not fully. You pull back, breathless, pressing a finger to his chest. “Jake.”
“Mm?” His lips chase yours like he’s not done yet.
“We have to go.”
He exhales dramatically, resting his forehead against yours for a second before finally pulling away. “Fine. But only because I don’t want Niki to yell at me for being late.”
The hotel ballroom where the premiere is being held is overwhelming the second you step inside. Warm lighting, sleek decor, champagne flutes in every direction. The kind of event where everyone is too cool to be fazed by the sheer number of celebrities in one place.
Jake keeps a hand on the small of your back as you walk in, like he’s worried you might disappear in the crowd. He greets a few people, nods at some others, but the second he spots Niki, his entire demeanor shifts.
Niki is standing near the center of the room, flanked by Yeonjun and a handful of other people you don’t immediately recognize. He’s holding a drink and talking animatedly, gesturing wildly like he’s in the middle of the most important story of his life. The second he sees you and Jake, his face lights up.
“There you are!” He waves you over, practically bouncing on his heels. “Finally. Thought you guys were gonna ditch me.”
“You think I’d miss this?” Jake grins, clapping a hand on Niki’s shoulder. “Big night, man.”
Niki gestures to the chaos around him. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking insane. I saw Taylor Swift like ten minutes ago and almost passed out.”
You blink. “Wait, she’s actually here?”
“Of course she is, dude. It's her movie.” Niki shrugs. “She's probably somewhere being cooler than all of us combined.”
Jake stands beside you, his hand resting lightly on your back as the party swirls around you. The room is a blur of sequins, designer suits, and industry elites, but his attention is locked on you.
Sunoo arrives first, all bright energy and perfectly styled hair, Gigi right beside him in a dress that probably costs more than your rent. Woonhak follows, looking vaguely overwhelmed but excited. “Oh my God, there he is,” Sunoo gasps dramatically. “The man of the hour.”
Jake laughs. “You mean Niki? Pretty sure he’s the man of the hour.”
“No,” Gigi corrects. “He means you.”
“Yeah,” Sunoo adds, pointing between you and Jake. “We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
Jake gives you a playful glance. “All good things, I hope?”
Jake, ever the charmer, is unfazed. He chats with them easily, slipping into the conversation like he’s always been part of your world. You watch as he makes them laugh, throwing in casual compliments and effortlessly winning them over.
After a few minutes, you catch sight of Jungwon and Jay arriving. “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” you tell Jake, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be right back.”
He nods, squeezing your fingers briefly. “Don’t take too long.”
You weave through the crowd toward Jungwon and Jay, both looking effortlessly put together. Jungwon spots you first, his face lighting up. When you reach them, your brother pulls you into a quick hug. “We had a tie problem.” His gaze turns to Jay, who is silently laughing.
You glance toward the bar. “I was actually about to grab a drink. You guys want anything?”
Jay shakes his head. “Sunghoon already went to get ours.”
Of course he did.
You nod, excusing yourself before heading toward the bar. As you approach, you spot Sunghoon leaning against the counter, one hand resting casually on the surface while the other holds a drink. His suit fits perfectly, sharp lines and effortless confidence, the deep navy fabric complementing his complexion in a way that makes your thoughts stray into dangerous territory. The open collar of his dress shirt reveals just enough skin to make you swallow harder than you’d like, and the sleek styling of his hair only sharpens the cocky smirk he wears when he notices you approaching.
“What a coincidence,” he muses, tilting his glass slightly in your direction. “You following me, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, masking the way your pulse quickens. “You wish.”
He tilts his head, letting his gaze drag over you in that slow, deliberate way that makes your skin heat. “Maybe I do.”
Your throat goes dry, but you refuse to let it show. “Shouldn’t you be taking those drinks back to your friends?”
He smirks, swirling the liquid in his glass lazily. “They can wait. Besides, looks like you could use a distraction.”
You scoff, leaning against the bar beside him, trying not to focus on how close he is. “You think you’re that distracting?”
Sunghoon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly smooth register that always makes the air between you shift. “I know I am.”
You hate that he’s right. But you hate even more how much you don’t want to walk away.
He studies you for a moment before raising a brow. “So, how’s Jake?”
The question catches you off guard, but you recover quickly. “He’s talking to Sunoo, Giselle, and Woonhak.” You pause, then glance at him knowingly. “You know, since he invited you here and all.”
His smirk deepens, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Yeah. Generous of him, don’t you think?”
You nod, watching him carefully. “I like that you two are getting close again.”
Sunghoon hums, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down. Then, he looks at you with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course you like it. You’re the reason for it.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly. “Or did you already forget what happened on Super Bowl night?”
Your breath catches for half a second, but you school your expression, refusing to give him the reaction he wants. Instead, you shift your gaze across the room, scanning the crowd—and that’s when you see Jake.
He’s leaning against a tall table, still engaged in conversation, but his eyes are locked onto you and Sunghoon. There’s something in the way he’s watching, the curve of his lips somewhere between amused and possessive. It sends a shiver down your spine—not quite jealousy, but not entirely something else, either.
The bartender slides your drink in front of you, breaking the tension. You take the glass, turning back to Sunghoon with a tight-lipped smile. “I should get back.”
His smirk lingers, as if he knows exactly why you’re leaving so quickly. “Sure. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” You ignore the way your stomach tightens at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before you do something reckless.
You return to Jake, finding him standing with Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Soobin near the edge of the party. The three of them are deep in an animated discussion, and you barely get a word in before Beomgyu clutches Soobin’s shoulder like he’s delivering the most important information of the night.
“Dude, I swear to God, we just went to the bathroom and Tom Holland was in there,” Beomgyu says, eyes wide.
Soobin nods in solemn agreement. “He was washing his hands like a normal person. It was surreal.”
“Was he British?” Heeseung asks, raising an eyebrow.
Beomgyu stares at him. “Bro, of course he was British, what kind of question—”
“I mean, did he sound British in real life?” Heeseung clarifies, crossing his arms.
“I didn’t hear him talk. But he had the British stance,” Soobin supplies, as if that explains everything.
“What the hell is a British stance?” Jake finally asks, chuckling.
Beomgyu waves his hand dismissively. “You wouldn’t get it.”
At this point, the conversation takes a sharp turn as Heeseung squints at Soobin. “Okay, but real question—who’s the best Spider-Man? Because I already know your dumbass answer.”
Soobin gasps. “Tobey Maguire is objectively the best—”
“Oh my God, here we go,” Beomgyu groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’re actually delusional if you think Andrew Garfield wasn’t the best,” Heeseung counters.
Jake laughs, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closer as they keep arguing. He leans in, his voice a warm murmur in your ear, “You wanna get out of here?”
Your breath hitches for half a second, but you play it cool, tilting your head slightly. “You’re feeling bold tonight.”
He smirks. “You have that effect on me.”
Before you can respond, Beomgyu suddenly turns back to you both, looking horrified. “Wait—Jake, don’t tell me you think Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man.”
Jake doesn’t even glance at him. “I think Y/N and I are leaving.”
Soobin gasps. “COWARD.”
You laugh, letting Jake steer you toward the exit, ignoring the continued chaos behind you. His hand is firm on your lower back, fingers pressing lightly as he guides you through the crowd, a silent reminder of his presence. The party hums around you—music pulsing, glasses clinking, voices overlapping in an endless sea of conversation—but it all fades into the background as you step into the crisp night air. The smoking area is nearly empty, just a few scattered guests lingering near the edge, their quiet conversations drowned out by the distant bass from inside. The air is laced with the faint scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne, but all you can focus on is Jake, who wastes no time in pulling you closer by the waist.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and low against your ear. His lips graze the sharp line of your jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.
“I’m fine,” you reply, though your breath hitches slightly when he finally presses a kiss there, just below your ear.
“Yeah?” He pulls back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You don’t seem fine.”
You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted. “You just like messing with me.”
“Maybe.” His hands tighten around your waist, his thumbs pressing into your sides. “Or maybe I just like you.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Oh yeah? How much?”
Jake tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mm, a lot.” His lips find your jawline again, kissing along it slowly, savoring every inch. “Like, wanna-be-around-you-all-the-time a lot. Like, think-you’re-the-coolest-person-here a lot.”
You hum softly, enjoying the warmth of Jake’s touch, the way his fingers trace absentminded circles against your waist. But there’s something deeper lingering between you, something you can’t ignore.
“Jake,” you say quietly, tilting your head up to look at him properly. “Can I ask you something? Like, for real?”
He pulls back slightly, his gaze warm and steady. “Of course.”
You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before finally speaking. “What… what exactly is this? You and me.”
Jake blinks, as if the question catches him off guard, but then a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know if I have the perfect answer for that,” he admits. “But I know that I really like getting to know you. I like how things feel when I’m with you. And I don’t wanna push you into anything—you’ve got a lot going on, I get that. But I like where we are right now.” His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, grounding, reassuring. “I like this... whatever this is.”
Your heart stumbles slightly at his words, the sincerity behind them. You nod, letting the moment settle, before shifting slightly. “Can I ask you one more thing?”
Jake grins. “Damn, two in a row? Should I be nervous?”
You roll your eyes but don’t take the bait. Instead, you inhale deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you get mad about Sunghoon? About him being around?”
Jake exhales a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna know the truth?”
“That’d be nice.”
He leans against the railing, still holding onto you like he’s unwilling to let you go. “It’s not the first time this has happened with me and Sunghoon.”
Your brows lift. “Seriously?”
Jake nods. “Yeah. We’ve had this… I don’t know what to call it. This rivalry? Competition? Whatever it is, it’s not new. But it’s never been like this before.”
“Like this how?”
His thumb brushes against your hip, gentle, thoughtful. “It’s never been with someone like you.”
Your breath catches slightly. “What does that mean?”
Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “It means you make it different. You make it feel less like a fight and more like— I don’t know. Like a game we don’t mind playing.” He pauses, tilting his head. “And I think it’s because I respect you. I know you’re gonna do whatever you want in the end, and I trust that. And…” He grins, eyes glinting with something playful. “I like it. I like the chase. I like having to work for you.”
Your heart squeezes at his words, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re really not jealous?”
“Oh, I’m jealous,” he admits, laughing. “But I’m not bitter. Not when it’s you.”
For a second, you can’t think of anything to say. So you don’t. Instead, you reach up, tangling your fingers in the fabric of his jacket and pulling him down into a kiss. Jake reacts instantly, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there’s barely any space left between you. His lips move against yours with an easy certainty, like he’s trying to tell you everything he just said all over again—without words, just the heat of his touch, the press of his body against yours. You feel the way he deepens the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly at your waist, like he wants to make sure you don’t slip away. And you don’t want to.
You let yourself sink into him, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, holding him there like he’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment. The world outside the two of you feels distant, a blur of cigarette smoke and the muffled voices. It’s just Jake, his lips warm and insistent against yours, his breath fanning across your cheek as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, as if he wants to taste every inch of you.
Then reality nudges at the back of your mind, and you remember where you are.
You break the kiss, just barely, your breath mingling with his. “Jake,” you murmur, voice slightly unsteady. “We’re still in public.”
His lips barely leave your skin as he hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “So?”
You huff a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow. “So, people are watching.”
Jake exhales a soft chuckle, completely unfazed. “Good,” he murmurs, dipping his head lower, his lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, trailing down the column of your neck. His voice is a low, amused whisper against your skin. “I like when people watch.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his jacket. There’s something reckless about the way he says it, something bold, unbothered—like he’s perfectly happy letting the whole world see that you’re his.
You’re about to retort, maybe call him insane, maybe tell him to shut up and keep kissing you, but then—your gaze drifts past his shoulder.
And your stomach twists.
Across the smoking area, near the edge where the neon glow fades into shadows, Sunghoon is standing with some girl. He’s not kissing her, but he’s leaning in way too close, his posture relaxed, effortless—like this isn’t even something he has to think about. Like it’s second nature to him.
She’s smiling, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she looks up at him, hanging onto whatever he’s saying. And he’s looking at her the way he looks at anyone he’s about to pull into his orbit—sharp, teasing, eyes glinting with something just shy of a smirk. He’s angled slightly toward her, their bodies just close enough that if she took half a step forward, they’d be chest-to-chest. It’s casual, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his body language shifts when he’s interested in someone.
And then he looks up.
His eyes meet yours, and in an instant, everything sharpens. The noise around you fades, the air between you crackling with something unspoken, something tense. His expression doesn’t change—he doesn’t pull away from the girl, doesn’t step back. He just holds your gaze, steady and unreadable, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Like he’s daring you to react.
Your pulse kicks up, an unfamiliar mix of emotions rising in your chest—something heated, something possessive, something almost irrational. You don’t know if it’s anger, annoyance, or something else entirely, but you feel it curling tight in your stomach.
Jake, still oblivious, is kissing along your neck, lips pressing slow, lingering against your skin. His grip on your waist tightens, his voice low. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, trailing another kiss just below your jaw.
But you barely register his words, barely feel the way he’s touching you. Because your attention is locked on Sunghoon, on the way he’s still looking at you, as if waiting to see what you’ll do.
And it makes your blood boil.
The spark of defiance ignites in your chest before the thought even fully forms. You don’t hesitate. If Sunghoon wants to play, you can play too.
Without breaking eye contact with him, you tighten your grip on Jake’s collar and pull him back into a kiss—this time, not soft or teasing, but intense, deliberate. Jake barely has a second to react before he’s melting into you, his hands sliding down your waist, fingers gripping your hips as he presses closer. He exhales a quiet groan against your lips, caught off guard but more than willing to follow your lead.
You tilt your head, deepening it, letting your nails drag lightly against the nape of his neck. The heat between you simmers into something heavier, something heady, and when Jake's fingers dig into your sides in response, you know he's completely lost in it. Good. That’s exactly what you need.
Still, even as you lose yourself in the kiss, you keep your awareness sharp, your senses wired. You know Sunghoon is still watching. And when you finally break the kiss, breathless, you make a point of glancing back toward him.
Your stomach twists the moment you do.
The girl beside him is even closer now, pressing into his side, lips trailing along his jawline like she’s mapping it out with precision. Sunghoon, on the other hand, looks completely unaffected. His expression is unreadable—bored, maybe. Or amused. His arm is lazily slung over the balcony railing, one hand wrapped around his drink, posture relaxed, unbothered. But his eyes?
His eyes are locked onto you.
There’s something deliberate in the way he holds your gaze, something slow and heavy, like he knows exactly what you’re trying to do—and he’s daring you to try harder. It makes your pulse spike, anger bubbling beneath your skin, because he’s playing right back, and worse—he’s good at it.
You refuse to let him win.
Turning back to Jake, you grab his wrist and pull him with you, leading him toward a more secluded corner of the smoking area, tucked behind a concrete wall where the lights don’t quite reach. Jake follows without question, his grip tightening around your hand, his breath uneven from the kiss.
“Where are we going?” he murmurs, voice low, eager.
You don’t answer. Not yet. Not until you steal one last glance over your shoulder, making sure Sunghoon sees exactly what you’re doing.
You don’t wait to see his full reaction, but you catch it anyway—the smirk pulling at Sunghoon’s lips, lazy and knowing, like he’s completely unfazed by your little game. Like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. It makes your jaw clench.
But you don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. You disappear behind the wall with Jake, letting the dim lighting and the thrum of the distant bass swallow you whole.
The second you’re out of sight, Jake tugs you back against him, hands firm on your waist. He’s still catching his breath, his eyes dark with something unreadable—half amusement, half hunger. But there’s something else there too, something smug, something playful.
“You know he’s an asshole, right?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers dipping just beneath the hem of your dress. “And you know I’m so much better than him.” You open your mouth, but before you can say anything, he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Your stomach flips at the way he says it—not accusing, not jealous, just… taunting. Testing you. And you hate how much you like it.
Your lips curl, fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Maybe I just like watching you get all competitive,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly, letting your lips ghost over his jaw. “Maybe I like making you work for it.”
Jake exhales sharply, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah?” His voice drops even lower, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours again, harder this time.
The kiss is intense, charged—his hands tugging you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as he backs you against the cool concrete wall. His lips part against yours, and you let him in, let him deepen it, let him take.
His mouth leaves yours only to trail lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path along your jaw, down to your neck. He finds that spot just beneath your ear and lingers there, lips pressing, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make you inhale sharply.
“Still thinking about him?” he murmurs against your skin.
You exhale something between a laugh and a breathy sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Not even a little.”
Jake chuckles, satisfied, before dipping lower. His lips trace down your collarbone, hot and open-mouthed, like he wants to leave something behind—some kind of mark, something to remind you who had you here first. His hands explore, one gripping your waist, the other slipping up your back, pressing you flush against him.
Jake’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist as he presses you further against the cold wall. His kisses turn rougher, more demanding—teeth grazing your lower lip before he tugs at it, swallowing the quiet gasp that escapes you.
"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dark, something teasing. His hand slides up your side, fingers curling around your ribs as his lips travel back to your neck, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Letting me push you around a little?"
His words send a shiver down your spine, and when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown, you know you’ve both lost track of who’s playing who. You don’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, you tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers tightening in his hair as he licks over the spot he just bit. He chuckles against your skin, satisfied, before sucking a bruise into your collarbone.
A soft moan escapes your lips, barely audible, but Jake catches it. His breath stutters for a split second before he exhales sharply, pressing his hips against yours in response. "Shit," he mutters, dragging his teeth over your pulse. "You can’t be doing that in my ear, princess. That’s not fair."
Before he can say anything else, the buzz of his phone vibrating in his pocket interrupts the moment. He ignores it. You feel it again. A steady vibration, insistent. Jake just groans, mouth still on your skin.
"Jake," you whisper, a little breathless. "It’s your phone."
"Don’t care," he mutters, kissing you again.
You laugh softly, pushing at his chest. "It could be important."
He pulls back just enough to look at you, jaw clenched, clearly annoyed. With a heavy sigh, he digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone. When he sees the caller ID, he groans even louder.
"For fuck’s sake," he mutters before answering. "What?"
You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but Jake rolls his eyes. "Bro, are you serious right now? I'm—" He pauses, glancing at you, then sighs again. "Fine. I’ll be there in a sec."
He hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket, looking at you with the most put-out expression. "It’s Niki. He’s making a toast or whatever and wants all the guys there."
You snort. "You should go…"
"Yeah." Jake sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at you again. His eyes roam over your slightly disheveled appearance, the faint marks blooming on your collarbone. A smirk tugs at his lips.
You roll your eyes. "I was literally about to fix myself up."
His smirk widens. "Yeah, you better."
You smack his arm, making him laugh. "Shut up," you mutter, turning toward the restroom. "I’ll meet you there."
Jake steps away first, sighing dramatically as he runs a hand through his hair. “Better hurry up, angel,” he teases over his shoulder. “Don’t wanna keep me waiting too long.”
You roll your eyes, watching as he disappears into the crowd before exhaling and smoothing down your outfit. Your body still feels warm, buzzing from everything that just happened, but you shake it off, heading toward a bathroom nearby.
The hallway is quieter here, dimly lit, the noise of the party muffled behind thick walls. You push open the door and step inside, immediately making a beeline for the mirror.
The second you see yourself, you groan, leaning against the counter with both hands. Your lips are swollen, your hair is slightly tousled, and there’s the faintest hint of red blooming on your collarbone where Jake had been particularly eager.
“My god,” you mutter, tilting your head to inspect the damage. You press your fingers over the spot, sighing. “Girl, what the fuck are you doing?”
You shake your head, standing up straighter as you start fixing yourself. Running your fingers through your hair, smoothing out your clothes, fixing your lipstick in an attempt to erase the evidence.
Alright. You’re fine. You take one last breath, steadying yourself.
Then, pushing open the stall door, you step out—
Sunghoon is leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom, arms crossed, waiting.
His eyes meet yours immediately—dark, unreadable. There’s a flicker of something behind them, something almost amused, and then his lips quirk up at the corner.
“Took you long enough,” he murmurs.
Your breath catches for a second, your heart still settling from the mess Jake left you in, but you mask it quickly. “Were you waiting for me?” you ask, tilting your head, trying to sound unimpressed.
Sunghoon just shrugs. “Maybe.” You roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you—so casual, so at ease, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Having fun tonight?” he asks, voice smooth as ever.
You lift an eyebrow. “You tell me,” you counter. “Looked like you were having a great time with that girl.”
His smirk deepens, just a fraction. “You were watching?”
You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. “You were standing right there. Kinda hard to miss.”
He hums, tilting his head. “So, what? You jealous?”
The accusation makes your stomach twist, but you don’t let it show. You just let out a short, humorless laugh. “Not even a little.”
Sunghoon chuckles, low and deep. “Right,” he drawls.
You hate the way he says it—like he doesn’t believe you, like he knows better. And maybe he does. Maybe he caught the way your gaze lingered too long, how you clenched your jaw when you saw his arm resting lazily on the balcony railing, completely unfazed by your attempts to get a rise out of him.
You straighten your spine. “You must be enjoying yourself, though,” you say, voice laced with something just shy of sarcasm. “Didn’t look like you were complaining when she was all over you.”
Sunghoon just hums again, taking a slow step toward you. “Wouldn’t say that,” he muses.
Another step.
Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’re moving, and Sunghoon is right there, hovering just close enough to make your pulse stutter. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t do anything more than lean in, but it’s enough. Enough to make the space feel smaller, the air heavier.
“She was cute,” he admits, voice dropping slightly. “But I don’t even remember her name.” You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to react. He watches you for a second longer, studying, waiting, and then his lips curve again. “What?” he murmurs. “Disappointed?”
Your eyes narrow. “I should’ve listened when people told me you were trouble.”
Sunghoon tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? And who told you that?”
You shrug, looking away. “People.”
He hums, like he’s considering it, then dips his head a little lower, just enough to make you look at him again. “Well,” he says, “they’re not wrong.” The words shouldn’t make your stomach flip. But they do. “And you know that,” he continues, voice quieter now. “You’ve always known that.”
You swallow, lips pressing together. Sunghoon’s smirk grows. “And you like it,” he says simply.
Something about the certainty in his voice makes your breath hitch. Like it’s not a question, not even up for debate. Like he knows you too well, has seen the way you react when he talks to you like this, corners you like this. You open your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to deflect, but he beats you to it.
“You don’t play fair, either,” he murmurs. “That’s why you pulled Jake like that.”
Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, you do.” The worst part is that he’s right. And he knows it. The tension stretches between you, thick and charged, but before you can get lost in it completely, something clicks in the back of your mind—Jake.
You blink, straightening slightly. “I have to go.”
Sunghoon doesn’t move, still caging you in. “Back to him?” You nod. He exhales sharply through his nose, a smirk still lingering on his lips. “Of course you do.”
You lift your chin. “Don’t start.”
Sunghoon just lets out a quiet chuckle, finally stepping back, giving you space. “Go ahead,” he says, waving a hand. You roll your eyes, stepping past him, ignoring the way your skin still feels too hot. And as you walk away, you swear you can still hear him laughing.
You make your way back to the party, heart still racing from your conversation with Sunghoon. The music pulses through the air, a mix of laughter and chatter filling the space as you navigate through the crowd.
You spot Jake and Niki at a table surrounded by a group of familiar faces—Heeseung, Beomgyu, Soobin, Woonhak, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, Giselle, and Yeonjun. Niki stands up, animatedly gesturing with a drink in hand, clearly in the middle of one of his infamous speeches.
“And let me tell you, folks,” Niki booms, “life is like a pizza! You can have all the toppings in the world, but if the base is soggy, it’s just not gonna work!” The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but smile. Niki’s ridiculousness is contagious.
As you reach the table, you lean against it, slipping in beside Jungwon. You rest your head on his shoulder, the comfort of his presence settling your racing thoughts. He glances down at you, an amused glint in his eyes.
Jungwon glances down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Y/N?” he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You blink up at him, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”
He scoffs, nudging you playfully. “You just stroll in here, all casual, after… whatever that was, and expect me to believe you’re only here for the pizza?”
You roll your eyes, the warmth of your earlier encounter with Sunghoon fading slightly in the comfort of your twin’s teasing. “I came for the pizza and Niki’s wisdom, obviously,” you reply, trying to sound serious.
Your brother chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. You lean into him, the familiar warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and grounded.
But then your gaze drifts away from your brother and settles on Jake, who is seated next to Heeseung, laughter bubbling up between them. He’s animated, his eyes sparkling with joy as he jokes around, completely lost in the moment with his friends. Watching him, a wave of warmth washes over you, spreading from your chest to your fingertips.
In that moment, you can’t help but think how much you genuinely like him. The realization hits you with a gentle tug at your heart. If only you’d met under different circumstances, perhaps things would have been easier. Maybe you could have shared more moments like this, more laughter, and less confusion. The thought lingers in your mind, and you find yourself smiling softly as you wonder what the future might hold. Who knows? Maybe there’s a chance for something more between you two.
As if sensing your gaze, Jake looks over at you, a small smile spreading across his face. It’s the kind of smile that lights up his eyes, a mix of mischief and warmth, as if he knows he wants to be close to you but doesn't want to disrupt the fun he's having with his friends. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
The energy in the room was electric, bodies swaying to the beat, laughter mixing with the music, until Niki broke through the crowd, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung! Jake!” he called out, his excitement palpable. “You’ve got to see this! Whoopi Goldberg is on the dance floor right now!”
The mention of Whoopi had Beomgyu and Soobin leaning in, intrigued. “No way, are you serious?” Beomgyu asked, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “We have to go check that out.” Soobin nodded vigorously, already stepping forward.
Woonhak leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “I actually talked to her earlier. She called me ‘Mr. Kim.’” He delivered the line nonchalantly, but the playful smirk on his face suggested he loved the attention.
Laughter erupted around the group, Jungwon and Jay nearly collapsing with mirth. Even Jake, who typically maintained a cool demeanor, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Niki seized his arm, pulling him toward the dance floor. “Let’s go, Jake!”
Watching them go, you felt a warmth spread through you. Jake looked so relaxed, so alive, his laughter ringing out amidst the chaos. It was a joy to see him enjoying himself without a care in the world.
“Hey,” Jungwon called, breaking you from your thoughts. “You wanna dance?”
With that, you followed Jungwon onto the dance floor, Jay, Sunoo, and Giselle close behind. The music pulsed around you, each beat vibrating through your chest. You lost yourself in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, letting the music take over.
Then you felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, something unsettling. You turned slightly, and there he was: Sunghoon, sauntering by with another girl, laughter escaping his lips like it was the soundtrack to your annoyance. The sight hit you hard, a surge of frustration bubbling up as you contemplated “accidentally” tripping him.
But no. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night. Not with your friends around, not with the music pumping, and definitely not when Whoopi Goldberg was potentially doing the cha-cha-slide somewhere in this building. You forced a smile, turned back to your friends, and kept dancing, determined to shake off the irritation.
Then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Sunghoon’s eyes locked onto yours. For a fleeting moment, everything around you fell silent, the air thick with tension. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but before he could, the girl beside him pulled him back into their conversation.
You turned away, your jaw clenching. The music and laughter felt distant now, as if you were watching the party unfold through a haze. Jungwon noticed the shift in your mood and leaned closer, concern etching his features. “You good?”
You nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
But as you moved to the beat, your gaze kept drifting back to Sunghoon, the weight of his presence hanging in the air like a cloud. The night was still young, yet suddenly, it felt a lot heavier.
After dancing for what felt like forever, the weight of your heels became unbearable. You decided it was time for a break. Spotting Sunoo chatting with Giselle, you made your way over. “Hey, I’m going to grab some slippers from my room,” you announced, already starting to walk away.
Sunoo raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. He gave you a knowing look. “Just be careful, because there’s someone watching you all the time.” His tone was teasing, but you knew exactly who he meant—Sunghoon. The unspoken tension between the two of you was palpable, and Sunoo was well aware of it.
“Yeah, well, I’m going to my room anyway,” you replied, already moving away, not bothering to hide your smile.
As you strolled down the dimly lit hallway, the party music faded into a distant buzz, leaving just the thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze boring into your back, a familiar presence that sent little shivers down your spine. You could practically picture him brushing off that girl who had been flirting with him just moments before, his signature smirk dismissing her advances like a pro. He had this crazy way of commanding attention, and somehow, you were caught right in the middle of it.
Stopping in front of your door, the cool metal handle felt like a nice break from the heat radiating off your skin. Just as you turned, Sunghoon rounded the corner, the flickering light catching his jawline, making him look almost otherworldly in the shadows. “You know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, a playful smirk on your lips, “I totally knew you’d pull this. You’re pretty obvious.”
His lips curled into that signature smirk that always sent a jolt through you. He stepped closer, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “And you can’t seem to stay away, can you? It’s like you’re into this little game we’ve got,” he shot back, his tone playful but with a hint of something deeper.
“Oh, is that what this is? A game?” You crossed your arms, trying to hide how giddy you felt inside. The banter flowed easily, but you both knew there was a lot more going on under the surface.
“Definitely,” he leaned in a bit, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of mischief and challenge. “But don’t worry; I’m always down for a challenge. Especially with someone like you.”
Your heart raced at his proximity, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins. You could feel your cheeks heating up, giving away the cool facade you were trying to maintain. “Well, you better keep up then,” you shot back, the words tumbling out with a surprising boldness.
Sunghoon chuckled softly, his amusement clear, but then his expression turned serious for a moment. “Oh, really? Should I?” His voice dropped low, each word hanging in the air, creating a charged intimacy that felt almost electric.
In that instant, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. The weight of unspoken words hovered between you, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the night was poised on the brink of something monumental. You could see the flicker of emotions dancing in his eyes, a mixture of challenge and desire, and it made your heart skip a beat.
“You know, I’m kinda tired of this back-and-forth game we’ve been playing,” he said, stepping even closer, a serious look crossing his face.
“Oh really? And what do you want, then?” You challenged, the playful banter tinged with curiosity.
“I want you, Y/N,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. “Not just this teasing dance.”
The seriousness in his tone made your breath hitch. It felt like a confession, raw and honest, cutting through the playful tension that had defined your interactions until now. You were caught off guard, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You met his gaze, a mix of surprise and something that felt like hope swirling in your chest.
He moved even closer, hovering just inches from you, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed against your skin as he leaned in, almost whispering. “You talk about me being trouble, but let’s be honest—you’re worse than I am.”
Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of thrill and frustration bubbling inside you. “What are you even talking about?” You looked up at him, and the playful glint in his eyes made your heart race.
“Come on,” he teased, tilting his head slightly. He leaned in, brushing his lips just beside your ear, making your breath hitch. “You get jealous at me flirting with other girls, but you can’t expect me to just sit here while you fuck with Jake, either. It’s a two-way street, you know?”
He pulled back slightly, looking deep into your eyes, searching for a reaction. You felt a surge of irritation mix with a strange thrill at his words, his expression teasing yet sincere. “Fine,” you huffed, frustration bubbling to the surface. But the truth was, you wanted to fight against it, to challenge him. “Maybe I don’t want to keep playing games too.”
“Then what do you want, Y/N?” He stepped back, that playful glint returning to his eyes. “Tell me.”
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pressing on you, and for a moment, all the teasing, all the games, melted away. “I want you to stop messing with my head and just be honest with me.”
Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, and for a brief moment, the playful banter gave way to something deeper. “Alright, I can do that. I want you. No games.”
You felt your heart race at his admission, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “Okay,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “No games.”
His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a challenge flickering in his eyes. “But even now, you’re still not making the first move, are you?”
You held his gaze, unflinching. The air was thick with tension, and the silence stretched between you, charged with anticipation. You didn’t want to be the first to break; instead, you leaned into the moment, your heart pounding as you locked your eyes onto his.
Instead of waiting for him to lean in, you took a step back, slowly opening your door and entering your room, all while keeping your eyes fixed on him. You moved in reverse, your gaze never leaving his, a playful yet inviting challenge dancing in your expression. The door creaked slightly as you stepped inside, the space now feeling intimate and charged.
Sunghoon followed you inside, his gaze intense as he stepped through the threshold. He closed the door behind him with a firm thud, the sound echoing in the small room, sealing you both in a world of your own. You could feel the heat radiating off him as he advanced, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.
You walked backward until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed, the soft mattress providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. You felt the gentle push as you sat down, your eyes never leaving his. Sunghoon remained standing, towering over you, a smirk still playing on his lips.
Sunghoon stepped closer, his expression shifting to one of determination. “So, you think you can just tease me like this?” His voice dropped an octave, filled with a rough edge that sent shivers down your spine.
You held his gaze, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I’m not scared of you,” you replied, trying to sound bold, but the way he looked at you made it hard to maintain your composure.
He smirked, a confident glint in his eyes. “Good, because I’m not playing games anymore.” With that, he took a step back, deliberately creating a bit of distance. You watched, curious, as he slowly removed his blazer, revealing a fitted shirt that clung to his frame. He left a few buttons undone, exposing just enough of his chest to make your heart race.
The sight of him, so effortlessly confident and attractive, made your breath hitch. You leaned back on your hands, your heart pounding as you assessed him, unable to look away. The playful banter had evaporated, leaving only a charged atmosphere between you.
“See something you like?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, making it hard to think straight.
“Maybe,” you replied, a hint of challenge in your tone, even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly back, inviting him to close the distance.
Sunghoon stepped forward again, this time his presence more dominant, almost predatory. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?” He leaned closer, making your heart race even faster. Standing before you, he towered over you, a commanding figure that filled the space with undeniable energy.
His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt both vulnerable and exhilarated under his touch. “Look at me,” he urged softly, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of intensity and something deeper swirling within them.
You held his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment, your heart pounding as he carefully maintained the connection. There was an undeniable tension in the air, charged with desire and anticipation.
“I want you to understand just how much I want this,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your chin lightly, sending electric sparks through you. It was a simple gesture, yet it felt like an invitation into something thrilling and unknown.
“I think I can say I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, heart racing as you laid your feelings bare.
“Oh, really?” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes, his lips curling into a smirk that sent butterflies swirling in your stomach. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, a powerful move that made your breath hitch.
As he knelt, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in this charged atmosphere. He leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for your sandal, fingers brushing against your ankle as he began to slip it off.
You felt a rush of heat wash over you, the intimate gesture sending your mind into a whirl. You wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but the way he looked at you left you momentarily speechless. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, a stark contrast to the fiery desire building between you.
With deliberate slowness, he moved to your second sandal, his fingers brushing your skin as he slipped it off. His gaze never faltered, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The world outside your room faded, and it felt like just the two of you existed in this electrifying moment.
As he slipped it off your foot, he leaned in closer, lifting your leg gently. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, and you could barely contain the gasp that escaped your lips.
Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his smirk widening as he caught sight of the goosebumps that had formed along your leg. “Did that feel good?” he teased, his voice low and filled with mischief.
You could only nod, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through you. The way he was looking at you, combined with his gentle touch, was driving you wild. He leaned back in, his lips brushing against your skin once more, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the length of your calf, his touch featherlight yet searing against your skin. Each press of his mouth sent another wave of heat rolling through you, making it harder to focus on anything but the way he was worshipping you with every movement. When he reached your knee, he lingered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin there, before placing a final, lingering kiss just above it.
Then, he stopped. He straightened to his full height, towering over you once more, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He looked at you like he was taking in every detail, every reaction, every silent plea hidden behind your parted lips.
“Stand up,” he murmured, his voice smooth but firm.
You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your body moving before your mind could catch up. As you rose to your feet, the space between you crackled with tension, the air thick with anticipation. Sunghoon stepped behind you, his presence overwhelming without even touching you. The warmth of his body was right there, just close enough to make your skin tingle, just far enough to make you ache for more.
“Turn around,” he instructed, and you felt the heat in his voice as you complied, slowly pivoting until your back was to him.
You held your breath, heart hammering in your chest as you felt his fingers brush over your shoulder, grazing the strap of your dress. He didn’t rush—no, he was taking his time, savoring every second. You could feel his breath ghosting over the nape of your neck, the sensation sending a delicious shudder through you.
His fingers trailed down the length of your spine, following the fabric of your dress as he reached for the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear.
Sunghoon’s breath was warm against your ear, the tension between you thick enough to drown in. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your dress for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, voice low and dripping with amusement.
“Can I?” he murmured, his tone edged with something dark, something hungry, and you nodded.
And then, with a swift, decisive motion, he dragged the zipper down, the sound slicing through the silence. Your dress loosened instantly, slipping off your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet like it had simply given up under his touch.
Sunghoon took a small step back, just enough to take you in. His gaze darkened as it roamed over you, lingering on the deep blue lingerie that now stood between him and everything he wanted. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his smirk deepened.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, almost to himself. “Did you wear this for me?”
Before you could answer, he was already moving, his lips pressing against your bare shoulder, slow and deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His hands traced the curves of your waist before gripping your hips, pulling you back against him so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.
“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he mused between kisses, his mouth trailing up the side of your neck, making you shudder. “Wearing something like this, knowing I’d see it.” His teeth grazed your skin, and you gasped, your body instinctively pressing closer. Sunghoon chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I think you like being caught.”
His hands slid over your stomach before he turned you around in one fluid motion. The second your eyes met his, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fingers working quickly, desperate to even the playing field. But you barely made it to the middle of his torso before Sunghoon caught your wrists, halting your movements.
His gaze was sharp, his smirk downright sinful. “Did I say you could take my shirt off?” he asked, tilting his head. “Good girls ask first.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, all you could do was stare at him, heart pounding, lips parting in surprise.
The moment stretched between you for a beat—then, before you could react, Sunghoon pushed you back onto the bed. You barely had time to process the way your body sank into the mattress before he was over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you open beneath him.
His smirk was gone now. What replaced it was something darker, something dangerously close to pure need.
“Now,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “Let’s see if you can be good for me after all.”
Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing into yours, his breath fanning against your lips, but still—still—he hadn’t kissed you yet. His eyes burned into yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your thigh, teasing, withholding, making you squirm beneath him.
You were done waiting. You reached up, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him down—but before your lips could meet, he let out a quiet chuckle, his mouth barely ghosting over yours.
“Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, with knowing.
You didn’t get a chance to respond, because in the next second, his lips finally crashed against yours, swallowing the air from your lungs. The kiss was nothing short of devastating.
His mouth moved against yours with an urgency that left you dizzy, like he’d been starving for this as much as you had. He didn’t hold back—he kissed you deep, kissed you like he wanted to ruin you, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, demanding more, taking more.
You melted into him, nails digging into his back as his tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate at first, then more intense, more desperate. His teeth grazed your lower lip before he sucked it between his own, drawing a soft whimper from you. That sound only seemed to spur him on.
His hands roamed lower, gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he was trying to fuse you together. The weight of him, the way he pressed into you with every shift of his body, had your head spinning.
Your fingers found their way to his shirt again, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to get it off, to feel his skin against yours. But just as you started to undo another one, Sunghoon suddenly grabbed your wrists, stopping you in your tracks.
His lips were swollen, his breathing uneven, but his voice was firm as he said, “What did I just say?”
You blinked up at him, dazed. “What?”
“I told you to ask first.” His voice dropped lower, more authoritative. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.
Heat flooded through you, your breath catching at the way he looked at you—so in control, so effortlessly dominant. Still, you couldn’t help the whiny edge that crept into your voice. “But I—”
“Don’t start,” he cut you off, his tone sharp. His fingers traced down your arm, featherlight, sending a shiver through you. “You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”
You swallowed hard, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. His words, his tone—it had you falling silent, something deep inside you tightening in response. Sunghoon’s smirk deepened, like he could see the exact moment you surrendered to him.
“Good girl,” he murmured, then leaned down, his lips crashing into yours again. This time, it was even more intense.
His kiss was all-consuming, leaving no space for hesitation. He devoured you, his tongue sliding against yours, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into your waist, your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.
Then, suddenly, he pulled back. Still straddling you, Sunghoon shifted, moving up onto his knees. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and your breath caught as you watched him slowly undo them one by one. You lifted yourself slightly, propping up on your elbows, eyes locked onto him, completely transfixed. The way his fingers moved, the slow reveal of his toned chest—it was hypnotizing, addictive.
He caught you staring, smirking. You swallowed, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t look away. Then he paused, his fingers still on the last few buttons. His gaze met yours, dark and unreadable. “Ask.”
Your lips parted slightly, your breath shaky as you whispered, “Can I touch you, Hoon?”
For a second, he just stared at you, like he was drinking in the way you looked—needy, desperate, completely at his mercy. Then, finally, he gave a small nod. You wasted no time. Your hands reached out, fingers sliding against his skin as you slowly pushed his shirt open. Your touch was soft, reverent, tracing over his chest, his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.
You leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest as you worked on the last of the buttons, your lips trailing down the hard planes of his body, tasting him, feeling every flex of his muscles under your touch. The shirt slipped off his shoulders, falling to the bed, forgotten.
Your hands moved lower, gliding over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched as you hesitated there, glancing up at him, waiting, asking without words. His eyes darkened. Without a word, he reached down, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, slow, teasing.
“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, with something deeper. His thumb pressed just slightly against your lip, feeling the way it parted under his touch. “So obedient.”
A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard, your entire body buzzing under his touch. Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, still toying with your bottom lip beneath his thumb. “Tell me what you want.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. Your face felt like it was on fire, but you forced the words out, even if your voice came out softer than you intended. “I want you.”
Something dark flashed in his gaze, his smirk widening as if he’d been waiting to hear that. He straightened up, stepping back slightly until he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you.
“Then be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”
A fresh wave of heat surged through you at his words. You shifted, moving carefully until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking up at him, heart racing in anticipation.
Sunghoon’s smirk never faltered. He let you settle into position before speaking again. “Take them off.” Your hands moved almost on their own, reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling slightly from the sheer tension in the air. You undid the buckle, the soft clinking sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. The button came next, then the zipper, your fingertips grazing the warm skin of his lower abdomen as you tugged the fabric down.
You took your time, dragging his pants down inch by inch, your fingers brushing against the firm muscles of his thighs, your breath coming out uneven as more of him was revealed to you. The air between you felt heavy, thick with anticipation, as the fabric slipped lower, pooling around his ankles.
Now, he was standing over you in nothing but his boxers, the outline of him straining against the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your mouth went dry. Heat coiled low in your stomach, an intoxicating mix of arousal and the sheer intensity of the moment.
Sunghoon let out a low chuckle at your expression, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. He reached down, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was a slow, teasing drawl, dripping with amusement, with control.
You weren’t sure if it was his tone, the way he looked at you, or the fact that you could feel his heat, inches away from your lips, but you felt dizzy. Your breath shuddered as you leaned in, your lips hovering just over the hard outline beneath his boxers, your eyes flicking up to meet his again, filled with nothing but quiet submission.
Sunghoon hummed, his smirk deepening. “Uh-uh.” His fingers traced along the side of your face before sliding into your hair, gripping it lightly. “You have to ask first, baby.”
Your stomach clenched. The grip in your hair wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to remind you who was in charge. Your lips parted, voice coming out softer than you intended. “Please, Hoon…”
His expression remained unchanged, feigning innocence. “Please what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering as you tilted your head, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against his lower abdomen. His scent overwhelmed you, making you lightheaded. Your hands lifted to his hips, playing with the hem of his boxers, teasing the waistband between your fingers. “Let me take these off.”
Sunghoon inhaled slowly through his nose, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The hand in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head back further. “Say please.”
You exhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
Something flickered in his gaze—satisfaction, control. It was a look that sent another wave of heat rushing through you, making your entire body feel hyperaware of the moment. The way he loomed over you, his chest rising and falling steadily, the grip he still had in your hair—it all made you feel small in the best possible way. Then, his smirk returned, slow and knowing, his head tilting just slightly as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing down lightly, testing you. “Go ahead, baby.”
Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, and you took your time, dragging the fabric down slowly, purposefully, letting your nails graze against his hips as you went. As soon as he was bare, your breath hitched. You felt lightheaded with anticipation, the heat pooling low in your stomach tightening at the sight of him, already so hard for you. Sunghoon was big.
Your lips parted, a quiet, shaky breath escaping as you immediately leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the base of his cock. His grip in your hair tightened, his chest rising with a sharp inhale as you trailed your lips up his length, your tongue tracing the prominent vein that ran along the side.
“Fuck.” His voice came out low, wrecked, his head tipping back just slightly before his gaze returned to you, dark and heavy-lidded.
You took your time, your tongue teasing him with deliberate, languid licks, savoring the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against your mouth. Sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you subtly, his hips barely shifting forward, making you gasp.
“Just like that, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “So fucking good.”
The praise only fueled you, made you more eager, more desperate to please. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him in slowly, inch by inch, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. His reaction was immediate—a sharp exhale through his nose, his jaw clenching, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper.
“Look at you,” he muttered, his thumb tracing your lower lip again when you pulled back slightly, your lips slick and swollen. “So fucking eager, huh?”
You nodded, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants, your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, your lips slick and swollen. He shook his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you back down. You leaned in again, parting your lips and taking him in, slow and deliberate at first, before hollowing your cheeks and sucking, letting your tongue drag along the underside of his cock, feeling the way he pulsed under your touch. His breathing hitched, a quiet curse slipping from his lips as his hand flexed in your hair.
“Fuck, just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “You take me so well, baby. Such a good fucking girl.”
The praise only made you more eager, made you want to pull more sounds from him, made you want to push him further. Your hands gripped at his thighs as you moved, setting a steady pace, swallowing around him, letting out soft little moans that you knew would drive him insane. His hips twitched, just barely holding himself back from thrusting into your mouth.
Then, suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened sharply, pulling you back with a swift, firm motion. Your lips slipped from his cock with a soft, wet pop, and you blinked up at him, dazed, your mind foggy with the haze of arousal. Confusion flickered in your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you searched his face, but he only smirked at you, his gaze dark and heavy-lidded.
Without a word, he let go of your hair and moved, shifting back onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, his legs spread lazily apart like he had all the time in the world. He propped an arm behind his head, watching you with an almost lazy amusement, like he was enjoying every second of making you wait.
Then, his voice cut through the thick silence. “Take those off for me.”
Your stomach clenched at his tone—low, commanding, expectant. You swallowed, nodding as you slowly got to your feet, standing at the edge of the bed as you reached for the straps of your bra.
Sunghoon’s gaze never left you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he watched, his dark eyes flickering with anticipation. You dragged the straps down your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down inch by inch, revealing your bare chest. His smirk widened as he caught sight of it, his eyes darkening, his fingers flexing against his thigh. You let your underwear pool at your feet, and you could feel the hunger in his expression, the way his fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to reach out and grab you.
Then, he tilted his head, patting his thigh once, his voice smooth, teasing. “Come here, pretty.”
Your breath hitched, your skin prickling with anticipation as you moved towards him, crawling onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate, almost feline, like you were savoring every second of this.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice nothing but smooth approval. “So fucking pretty for me.”
The moment you were close enough, his hands found your waist, his grip firm, possessive—grounding you even as the rest of your body buzzed with anticipation. You hovered over him, your palms pressed against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His fingers dragged along your sides, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every inch of you to memory, like he had no intention of rushing this.
And then he saw it. A darkened mark blooming against your collarbone, the unmistakable imprint of lips and teeth that weren’t his.
Sunghoon stilled, his smirk curling at the edges as his fingers ghosted over the bruise. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I knew he was going to mark you…” His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something darker, something claiming.
Before you could respond, his lips were on you, tracing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He took his time, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot before sinking his teeth in just enough to make you shudder.
“And I knew you were gonna let him,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with amusement. His lips moved higher, grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You can’t control yourself, can you?”
A sharp smack landed on your ass before you could process his words. You gasped, the sting spreading deliciously through your skin, and your eyes shot to him in shock, only to find him already watching you, biting down a smirk. He tilted his head slightly, gaze dark, knowing. “You like that, huh?” His fingers kneaded at the spot, soothing the burn even as his smirk grew.
Your breath hitched, the heat in your stomach curling even tighter. You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
Sunghoon let out a soft, breathy laugh, his hand squeezing your waist, grounding you as he pulled you closer. “I knew you were dirty like this.”
And then his lips were on you again, but this time, lower. He kissed down the valley between your breasts, slow and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, sucking another mark into your flesh. His hands smoothed over your thighs, squeezing, gripping, before sliding up to cup your chest, his thumbs brushing over your already hardened nipples.
He took his time with you, savoring every reaction, every little gasp, every arch of your body against him. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull sounds from you with just his mouth, just his hands. You whimpered as he dragged his tongue over your sensitive skin, your hips involuntarily rolling against his stomach, seeking friction, seeking anything.
His grip on your hips tightened instantly, stilling your movements. “Behave,” he said, his voice low, commanding, a warning.
A thrill shot through you at his tone, at the weight of his control, but you weren’t ready to submit just yet. You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly, feigning innocence. “Or what?”
His smirk widened, slow, almost lazy, like he was waiting for you to say that. Like he’d been hoping you would. “Oh, sweetheart…” His fingers dug into your skin, his voice dropping into something deeper, darker, full of promise. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Before you could process, he moved. A sharp gasp left your lips as Sunghoon flipped you onto the mattress in one swift, effortless motion, pinning your body beneath him. His hands were on you immediately—strong, commanding, securing your wrists above your head with ease. His grip was firm, his body caging you in, leaving you completely at his mercy.
Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you stared up at him, wide-eyed, your skin burning everywhere he touched. His gaze was dark, filled with something primal, something almost dangerous. And then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches before he bit down on your lower lip, sharp enough to make you whimper.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath fanning over your lips. “What do you want?” His voice was deep, teasing, dripping with control.
Your body arched instinctively, your thighs squeezing together in desperate search of relief, but you couldn’t move—not with the way he had you pinned so effortlessly beneath him. A whimper escaped you, but no words followed. Sunghoon smirked.
His grip on your wrists shifted, securing them in one hand, while his free hand trailed down your jaw, his fingers gripping your chin with just enough force to make you shiver. He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes, his thumb brushing slowly over your parted lips.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Your breath hitched, your body writhing under him, and when you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Fuck me, Sunghoon.”
He hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “Didn’t quite hear you, baby.” His hips lowered, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing, taunting, making you gasp. Your entire body trembled beneath him, the ache inside you growing unbearable.
A frustrated whine left your lips, your voice turning desperate, pleading. “I want you to fuck me, Sunghoon.”
He let out a dark, satisfied chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Before you could take another breath, his hand was between your legs, fingers gliding through your wetness, spreading you open. The teasing circles he drew over your clit made your thighs shake, your body twitching at every deliberate, calculated movement.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His fingers pressed down harder, rubbing slow, languid strokes that sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”
You whimpered, your back arching against his touch. “Don’t tease me, please… I need you.”
Sunghoon smirked against your skin, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear before he murmured, “I need to prep you first.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding between your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Don’t want to hurt my pretty girl.” His voice was soft, almost affectionate. He lets go of your wrists, and you hold on to his arms.
His fingers slipped inside you with ease, stretching you open, filling you in a way that had your back arching off the mattress. A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as Sunghoon worked you open, his movements slow at first—teasing, purposeful.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, watching your face closely, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So fucking good for me.”
His fingers moved faster, deeper, the lewd sounds of your wetness filling the room, only fueling the fire in his darkened gaze. Your thighs trembled, your body tightening around him, the pressure in your stomach coiling impossibly tight. He could feel it—how close you were. And he wanted to push you over that edge.
“Tell me…” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his fingers pumped into you with merciless precision. “Did he treat you nice like this?”
Your mind was hazy, the pleasure consuming you whole. You couldn’t even form words, couldn’t respond—all you could do was moan, your nails digging into his forearm as his pace quickened.
Sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disapproval. “Can’t answer me?” His free hand came up, gripping your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb dragged along your swollen lips, smearing the drool that had gathered there. “You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you? Wanting two cocks at the same time… so greedy.”
His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, shame and arousal intertwining in a way that made you squirm beneath him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for every other man,” he murmured darkly, leaning down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You hear me?”
The coil inside you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you so intensely that you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, your thighs trembling, your body convulsing beneath him as you unraveled onto his fingers.
Sunghoon groaned, watching you fall apart with hooded eyes, completely mesmerized. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, bringing them up to his lips before slipping them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them, savoring the taste of you.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with desire.
You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling in the aftershocks, before he was positioning himself in front of you, his cock in hand, the tip already leaking against your entrance.
He looked at you then—really looked at you. Your eyes were dazed, pupils blown wide, lips parted as you gazed up at him with a look that made his breath hitch.
“Are you okay?” His voice was softer now, a hint of something almost tender behind the rough dominance he exuded. You nodded quickly, biting your lip, anticipation swirling in your stomach as you ached to feel him inside you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured, stroking your thigh, his restraint evident in the tension in his muscles.
Sunghoon was big, and the mere thought of him stretching you open made you whimper. You looked up at him with wide, needy eyes, an innocent expression that only fueled the hunger in his gaze. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around your thigh.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging the tip of his cock over your clit, rolling it in slow circles, making your body twitch beneath him. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” You could only nod, your breath hitching, your body strung so tight that you thought you might go insane if he didn’t fill you soon.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, as if he was holding himself back. You nodded again, appreciating the gentleness beneath his roughness, the way he still cared even while acting completely in control.
And then, finally, he pushed in—the thick head of his cock stretching you open, sinking into you inch by inch. Your body clenched around him, the feeling overwhelming, pleasure spreading through you like fire.
Your eyes rolled back, a moan slipping past your lips as you let your head fall completely against the bed, your hands gripping onto his strong biceps, needing something to ground you.
Sunghoon groaned lowly, watching the way your body took him, the way you squeezed around him so perfectly. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread. “You feel so fucking tight.”
His grip on your thigh was possessive, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. The slow, deliberate pace was maddening, the tease unbearable, but he seemed to revel in it—watching the way your body reacted to him, the way your lips parted in breathless moans, the way your fingers clawed at his biceps, desperate for more.
Your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily, lost in the intoxicating heat of each other’s touch. The room felt electric, the air thick with tension, every sound amplified—the slick slide of him moving inside you, the breathy whimpers escaping your lips, the deep, guttural moans he let out every time your walls clenched around him.
His hold tightened, fingers bruising as he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading you wider for him, as if he wanted to claim every inch of you. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, never quite kissing you, just breathing you in, his warm breath fanning over your flushed skin.
“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” His voice was a dark whisper against your lips. You could only nod, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Say it.” His hips rolled forward, a deep thrust that had your eyes rolling back, your nails scratching down his toned back.
“I—” You gasped, barely able to form words. “I wanted this so bad.”
Sunghoon groaned, his self-control slipping as he pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, burying himself deeper inside you. The stretch burned in the best way possible, a delicious ache that made your head spin. He was so big, filling you to the brim, making you feel completely owned, completely his.
His pace was still torturously slow, but each thrust was deep, deliberate, making you feel every inch of him. He watched your face intently, taking in every reaction, every twitch of your brows, every gasp and moan that tumbled from your lips.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. “So fucking desperate.” You whimpered, your hands flying up to grasp at his wrist, not to pull him away but to hold onto him, to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.
His thumb dragged over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh before slipping into your mouth. “Suck.” You obeyed without thinking, lips wrapping around his thumb, tongue swirling over the pad of it as you gazed up at him with glassy eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his restraint snapping.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his lips as he kissed you with a hunger that left you breathless. His pace quickened, hips slamming into yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you.
The shift in tempo had you gasping, whimpering against his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him in deeper. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic, wet sounds of him fucking into you, mixed with your broken moans and his deep, raspy groans.
“You take me so fucking well,” he praised, his lips dragging down your jaw, to the curve of your neck, where he sucked and nipped, leaving his mark. “My good girl. So tight. So perfect.”
Your body arched into him, every nerve ending ignited, your head spinning with pleasure. You could feel it building again—that familiar, fiery coil in your stomach, tightening with every thrust, with every filthy word he whispered into your ear.
“Sunghoon—” You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “I’m—” He groaned, sensing exactly how close you were.
“Not yet,” he growled, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside you, his pace relentless now, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you trembling. “You’re gonna cum when I say you can, baby.”
You whined, body betraying you, your walls fluttering around him, your muscles locking up as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Hold it.” His voice was dark, commanding, but his own resolve was slipping. He was close too, his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, harder.
You couldn’t. You physically couldn’t. Your body was on fire, your mind blank, pleasure consuming you whole. “Sunghoon, please,” you sobbed, shaking beneath him.
His hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing just enough to send you spiraling, his voice a breathy groan as he finally gave you permission.
“Cum for me.”
And you did.
Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, so intense it stole the breath from your lungs, your vision blurring as your body convulsed beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him for everything he had.
“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, his movements growing sloppy, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release hitting him like a freight train. His body tensed, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you, filling you with warmth, his breath ragged against your ear.
The room was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing, both of you completely spent, bodies tangled together in the sheets. Sunghoon pressed lazy kisses to your jaw, your collarbone, your lips, his touch softer now, almost gentle.
Your body felt weightless, as if you were floating in the haze of pleasure that still clung to you, leaving you warm and blissfully dazed. Your limbs were heavy, spent, but his touch—gentle, soothing—kept you tethered to reality.
“You okay?” Sunghoon murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but still laced with concern. His fingers found your face, brushing away the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead. His eyes, still dark with the remnants of desire, softened when they met yours.
You nodded weakly, your body still buzzing, your mind slow to catch up. He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tender, as if savoring the taste of you, before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Your body draped over his chest, his warmth seeping into you, anchoring you in a way that made you want to stay like this forever.
His fingers traced absentminded patterns along the bare skin of your back—slow, lazy circles, up and down your spine, making you shiver despite the heat radiating from his body. His other hand, rough yet careful, brushed over your arm, then your waist, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there, tangled up with him in the sheets.
A deep sigh left his lips, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, the rhythm soothing, hypnotic. You pressed your cheek against his heart, listening to the soft thump, feeling the way it still raced slightly, evidence of how much he had wanted you, how much you had affected him.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was full, heavy with unspoken words, but not in a way that begged for answers. It was enough just to be here, wrapped up in each other, breathing the same air, feeling the same warmth.
Then, after a moment, his hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, rhythmic motions. A small hum of pleasure escaped you at the comforting sensation, making him chuckle under his breath.
“Feels good?” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded again, too content to form words.
He shifted slightly, adjusting so that you were more securely nestled against him, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. “I like this,” he admitted, voice quieter now, more raw. “Having you like this. Feels… different.”
You lifted your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your fingers trailing over his collarbone, tracing the defined lines of his chest. “Different how?”
His eyes flickered down to you, something unreadable swirling in them. His thumb stroked the curve of your hip, his lips parting slightly before he hesitated. Then, with a quiet sigh, he muttered, “I don’t know. Just… good.”
Your heart clenched at the way he said it—so unguarded, so unlike the teasing, cocky Sunghoon you were used to. This was different. This was intimacy in its purest form, something unspoken lingering between the two of you, too fragile to name, but too strong to ignore. You pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to hover over him, your fingers still lazily tracing along his chest. “You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I get it.”
His gaze searched yours for a moment before he exhaled, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He reached up, brushing his knuckles against your cheek before guiding your lips back down to his. This kiss was different from before—no urgency, no hunger, just something soft, something deeper. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, like he wanted to leave a piece of himself behind in every press of his lips against yours.
You melted into him, sighing into the kiss, your hands coming up to frame his face, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you even closer. He kissed you slowly, taking his time, as if you had all the time in the world.
When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered against yours, his breath warm as he murmured, “Next time…” You swallowed, waiting, your body already shivering at the thought of what he might say next. “…I’m not letting you off so easy.” His voice was teasing, but the promise behind it sent a thrill down your spine.
You bit your lip, a lazy smile playing on your lips before leaning in to press a soft kiss against the sharp line of his jaw. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, the tease in your voice making Sunghoon let out a low, satisfied chuckle.
Without a word, he pulled you in closer, rolling onto his side until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive kind of ease. His hand smoothed over your stomach, fingertips tracing light patterns against your skin, grounding himself in the warmth of you.
He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, and for a second, he just held you there—basking in the way you fit so perfectly against him. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, that he liked having you like this, wrapped up in him, safe in his arms.
But he’d never admit that.
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author's note: SOOOOO.... LMAOOOOO READER IS THIS YOU RN?????
my best friend read this chapter and absolutely lost her mind so i’m taking that as a good sign LMAO also sorry for the length, i know it’s longer than usual but hopefully it’s worth it 👀
this is only the second smut scene i’ve ever written and i can’t believe it actually turned out good??? like hello since when do i have this talent i’m actually shook. anyway, i’m gonna take a little longer than usual to post the next update, so savor this one while you can 😌 BYEEEEE
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I hate the third movie so much!!!! Like a lot!!!!!!!
Prepare for a rant (under cut bc it got a bit long, sorry!)
First of all, here's a thing I always complain about when talking about HTTYD 3: the designs, and the characterization
The designs as in, the armor, is cool as hell, I'm not complaining about that I love the armor so much. But I hate how they made Toothless a literal puppy. His head is literally a square!!! They changed his personality too, when he's always been more similar to a cat than a dog
There's also the light fury. I have no words for this. The fact that they only made her Like That because they needed her to be "feminine" says enough about her
It was weirdly sexist for a HTTYD movie, considering how well done the female characters are in this series. They only made this character to be Girl Toothless, and being a girl was her only character trait
Besides that, they gave some of Toothless' mannerisms to her! The more cat-like behavior, at some points, for example. Toothless in the first movie was more graceful, stealthy, moved silently, etc. They gave all of his different, elegant ways of moving to her, because they wanted to push the golden retriever agenda on him (that's a joke btw. Like they did do that but "golden retriever agenda" isn't a thing)
Ruffnut was far too stupid too. She would NEVER in rtte
Now; let's move on to why the ending is shit
First of all! Toothless is not an Alpha. He is king, yes, but king of Berk's dragons specifically. When he defeated Drago's Alpha, he did not suddenly gain telepathy powers; the dragons under the Alpha's control went to Toothless when he won, and it was a willing decision. They listen to him, yes, but not every dragon will, because HE'S NOT OF THE SPECIES THAT HAS LITERAL DRAGON MIND CONTROL POWERS
That being said!! If Toothless isn't an Alpha, then why the hell did all the dragons leave when he did? And why did all the dragons in the Hidden World immediately bow down to him? Maybe they recognize his status as King (of Berk), but that doesn't mean he's the king of them
There's also no way all the dragons wanted to leave. Just no way. I know I wouldn't!
Then, there's the Death Song problem
There are multiple cannibalistic dragon species. If they go to the Hidden World with the rest, they will try to eat everyone else, and if they can't do that, they'll starve. These dragons can't just change their entire biology and start eating fish, plants, boars, or whatever thing you have in mind. They have to eat other dragons, or they'll die. Sending them all to the Hidden World means that either they'll eat all the other dragons and eventually they'll be one of the few species left standing (highly unlikely) or they'll just go extinct (most probable)
Along with that, there's the fact that many dragons are extremely territorial. if stuck in the same place for the rest of their lives, there will be fights, and dragons don't have medicine! They can only heal naturally, there's no outside help. So many will die, far more than necessary
Now, I do like the ending of the dragons leaving. In the books
And sure, dragons die every day; no one can stop that (no matter how sad this makes Hiccup), but putting them all in a big cave will result in losses that are WAY bigger than necessary and than what they're used to
Plus, what about the species that can't fly? The Speed Stingers, for example? The mutation in RTTE was a thing that only happened with that one group. Only they would be able to reach the Hidden World
I understand that they were trying to end the sagas the same way the books did, but it doesn't work in the movies! Also, (I haven't read all the books yet, it's a work in progress, so correct me if I'm wrong, but) as far as I know, in the books the dragons were basically slaves to the Vikings. It makes sense that they would want to leave. In the movies, it's not like that. Berk's dragons are friends, not servants! They have no reason to want to leave!
And even then, I'm like 99% sure that in the books Toothless still didn't leave Hiccup. And even then, apparently leaving (or when to leave, most likely) was left to be each dragon's choice, not something a random telepathy powered Toothless told them to do
The villain also sucks. I didn't like his design, but I'm not gonna complain about that
It makes no sense for just one person to wipe out an entire species! And besides, Grimmel wasn't scary, wasn't interesting, wasn't anything at all. He's as bland as the Light Fury
Also also also. Toothless would never leave Hiccup for a girl. I'm not talking about a "bros before hoes" thing (I hate that phrase) I'm talking as in, Toothless would never leave Hiccup. Ever. No matter the circumstances. ES MÁS, he wouldn't have let the Light Fury get close to him after she attacked Hiccup! He would've defended him! That's his friend. HIS FRIEND. He's his best bud, his soulmate!!!!!
God the Toothless characterization pissed me off sm
I'd say Hiccup was pretty spot on in the sense that if Toothless wanted to leave and could leave without, like, dying, he would let him; he'd be sad about it, but he would let him. There's other things I don't like about the way he was written, of course, but that wasn't too bad. WHAT WAS BAD IS THE FACT THAT TOOTHLESS LEAVING WAS EVEN A POSSIBILITY IN THE FIRST PLACE
And, to add something: doesn't the "oh I built a new tail and now he can leave forever because it's like basically his old tail! It's like it was never missing at all!" thing feel a bit ableist? Idk that's just a hunch, I'm not disabled so I can't talk about it, but. Just leaving that there
Still, even without the ableism, it's still shitty. The tailfin would never hold that long. It'd need repairs. Things like that can't be permanent, and I know Hiccup is a great inventor, but he's not a god, come on. He can't do everything
Toothless can fly on his own now, yes, but if the tailfin breaks (which is a thing that can happen, either because of an accident or simply because of time), there's no one to fix it. In a place like that, he'll be stranded. It's dangerous!
Also they made Snotlout, Hiccup's cousin in the books, be attracted to Hiccup's mom. HIS AUNT
The HTTYD universe's ecosystem must've been so damaged when all the dragons dissappeared.
"but people wanted to hurt them!" people want to hurt wolves to, but we don't send them all to an isolated cave because it would destroy the ecosystem.
In fact, "dragon" is just a collective word for multiple species so they really fucked themselves with that one.
In conclusion, the third movie was stupid.
#sorry for the rant Dx#i just really dislike this movie#httyd#httyd the hidden world criticism#httyd 3 hate#how to train your dragon
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stuck with you | (1/??)
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: computer sci major/ shy/ nerdy! jungkook, econ major/ popular/ influencer! reader, college au, roommates au, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff
Summary: Jungkook’s a hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless more than romantic. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he swore he heard bells chiming, like the angels from above were giving him a cosmic nudge. But he’s always been the awkward, nerdy guy—the one who blends into the background—while you? You felt like a dream way out of his league. Fate, however, had other plans and now, you’re his roommate and living with you—in all your effortless glory—is equal parts chaos and heaven. The only challenge? Keeping his ever-growing feelings in check. That is—until a cocky fuckboy with not-so-pure intentions sets his sights on you, and suddenly, just loving you from the sidelines might not be enough.
Word Count: 18.8k+
Chapter Warnings: jungkook wears GLASSES !!!! oc has like a whole abg vibe/ style going on if ykwim, jungkook is really awkward but he's a cutie patootie and actually a huge simp for oc cause he can never say no to her, yoonmin couple, random computer sci and econ things that may be inaccurate (pls don't come for me, this is literally just a fanfic :p) , morning wood, vine references, nerdshaming (???), oc is just an oblivious girlie, mature language, lmk if i missed anything.
cher's notes: THE FIRST PART OF SWY IS HERE !!! first, a huge thank you for 900 followers—i can’t even begin to wrap my head around it. it’s surreal to have so many of you here, supporting me, and i appreciate it more than words can say. truly, thank you. second, i’m so grateful to everyone who’s been looking forward to this little mini-series. writing it has been such an experience, and honestly, i think i’ve fallen a little too hard for this jungkook. also, fun fact: i had to do a whole deep dive on rubik’s cubes for this because, for some reason, i never realized that a 3x3 wasn’t the only variation out there lmao. anywaysss, i’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, so let me know what you think !! and stay tuned for the upcoming chapters <333
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★ PLAYLIST ★ MOODBOARDS
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one: close, but not too close
Jungkook nearly chokes on his ramune soda, the fizz catching at the back of his throat as his fingers fumble to pause the very intense anime scene playing on his monitor when he hears you kick his door open.
"Kook!! Code Red!! Nail Crisis—We're Talking National Emergency!!" you announce, eyes wide as you wag your phone in the air, making your way towards him. He blinks, his brain struggling to catch up but you're already in his space, shoving your phone dangerously close to his face.
"Choose." you command and Jungkook leans back against his gaming chair, adjusting his glasses as he tries to focus on the screen.
Two nail designs stare back at him. Right side: pink, glittery, bow charms—so sweet it looks like it might summon a fairy princess. Left side: silver chrome, the tips are pointy and probably even sharp enough to lowkey stab someone.
Nail lingo? Yeah, he's heard you ramble about it—coffin something, almond something, acrylic something—words that sound more like architectural blueprints or dessert flavors than beauty terms.
Honestly, trying to keep up with your world sometimes makes his brain overheat, but this? This he can manage.
He's used to this by now since it comes with the territory of being your roommate. The unofficial side quest of being your personal beauty advisor. Nail designs, outfit dilemmas, lipstick shade debates... he's seen it all.
Sometimes he feels like he's living inside a live-streamed Vogue consultation, except the model is you, and the consultant is him—armed with nothing but vibes and the occasional "Yeah, that looks cool."
As of now, his inner gamer kicks in as he nibbles on his lower lip, observing the two pictures closely. Chrome looks like it could belong to a cyberpunk warrior or, at the very least, serve as a cool weapon so that's what he goes for. "This one." he taps the silver nails with a sense decisiveness. "It looks very cool." he adds with a smile.
"Oh my god, YES. I was literally thinking the exact same thing." you squeal, clearly overjoyed making Jungkook chuckle under his breath. He knows—has known for a while now—that even if he picked the pink set, you'd probably still go with the design you wanted anyway.
But that's fine. He's just happy to be here.
He watches as you move away from his chair and casually flop onto his bed like it's your own, scrolling through more inspo pics as you ramble on about appointment slots and some nail tech named Jiwon.
You glance over, catching Jungkook listening—really listening—despite the fact that none of this is remotely relevant to him. He's nodding along with the corners of his lips faintly curved.
He doesn't interrupt, doesn't tell you to leave, doesn't look the slightest bit annoyed because he's simply patient like that and that's what makes him so special.
It's been a little over a year since you became roommates with Jungkook.
Two months into freshman year, when you were drowning in campus chaos, you desperately needed a place... something close to university, something that didn't involve suffocating dorm curfews, passive-aggressive bathroom schedules, and the horror of communal showers.
Apartment hunting was hell, but then you somehow stumbled upon Jungkook's listing. He was a computer science major at your university, had a vacant room, and was looking for someone to split the rent.
Practical. Convenient.
But still, you were skeptical mainly because moving in with a guy felt weird and well, not to forget... guys can be very very gross.
But the rent was affordable. The place seemed nice. And it was practically hugging campus. So, you took the leap of faith and decided to move in.
And much to your surprise—and relief—Jungkook turned out to be an amazing roommate.
For starters, he was clean. Immaculately so. Borderline obsessive. The boy worshipped his laundry detergent and had the entire apartment perpetually smelling like fresh cotton most of the time.
He was religious about doing the dishes, cleaned the bathroom when it was his turn without needing reminders, and—bless his soul—put the toilet seat down after he was done using it. Every. Single. Time.
He was a bit of a nerd. No, scratch that—he was a full-fledged nerd. Now that you've lived with him long enough, you can confidently say so and honestly, it's so fucking endearing.
He mostly keeps to himself, stationed in front of his monitor, either binging some random documentary or anime, playing some random game or just furiously coding. He's the kind of guy who could build a fully functional app over the weekend... just because he was bored.
His shelves are lined with books, mangas and also with rubik's cubes in every possible variation... 3x3, 4x4, 5x5, pyramid-shaped, and some monstrosity with like, twelve sides. You stopped keeping count because at some point, you convinced yourself that they just multiply when you're not looking.
He's super shy and introverted, but wickedly smart. Sometimes, he's fixing the WiFi like a tech wizard and other times, he's helping you with an economics assignment, despite having zero reason to know anything about supply curves.
But that's just Jungkook. Quietly capable of doing anything and everything.
And speaking of capable—Jungkook's greatest feat, by far, might be his effortless ability to put up with you.
For someone who had a mile-long checklist for what a good roommate should be... clean, respectful, non-creepy, someone who wouldn't turn your kitchen into a biohazard zone— you were, if you were being honest, not exactly the easiest person to live with.
Not in a nightmare roommate from hell kind of way, but... let's just say, you had a presence. A loud one.
You took up space... in every sense of the word. You were the kind of person who moved through life with a little extra volume, a little more color, and a whole lot of unapologetic flair.
You were, by most standards, the "it girl" of your university. Effortlessly cool, perpetually well-dressed, the kind of person everyone either wanted to be or be around. You didn't just follow trends... you set them.
Your Instagram is basically a curated mood board that half the campus tries to copy. You party hard, ace your classes when you feel like it, and always look good doing it.
You loved being a girl. You loved everything about it—the glittering ritual of makeup, the art of perfecting your nails, the thrill of styling the perfect outfit, the satisfaction of filming a flawless GRWM tiktok, the way a swipe of gloss could make you feel invincible.
And being roommates with Jungkook meant that, willingly or not, he had been drafted into your little glam army. He was your unofficial cameraman, your personal consultant, your human swatch palette.
You would burst into his room—mostly without knocking—waving a lip tint or eyeshadow palette in hand. "Hold still." you'd say, before smearing color across the back of his hand or, on more ambitious days... directly onto his lips.
He had, as you once declared: "The most perfect lips—zero pigmentation. Every color looks good on you. It's honestly unfair."
Sometimes, you dragged him in front of the camera for random tiktoks—the now-iconic Roommate Series, which has somehow become a huge sensation on your account overtime.
The series includes a bunch of videos like: "Doing My Roommate's Makeup (He's Nervous LOL)" "My Roommate Picks My Outfit (Pray for Me)" "Trying my Roommate's Gym Workout Routine (Send Help)" "Cooking With My Roommate (We Almost Burned the Apartment Down)." And so many other classics that your followers absolutely loved.
Jungkook, your shy, introverted, perpetually hoodie-clad computer science major roommate—had somehow become the unwitting co-star of your social media life.
And the wildest part? He never complained. Not once. Never sighed out of frustration. Never rolled his eyes. Never told you to back off.
He just... went along with it.
He let you dust highlighter along his cheekbones because you were "testing undertones". Let you draw little eyeliner hearts under his eyes because you thought "it was cute". Let you turn his forearm into a rainbow of lipstick swatches because you were "deciding on a vibe."
He took your outfit photos with an almost alarming level of precision, learning your angles better than some of your actual friends. He gave honest opinions when you held up two skirts and asked which one was giving.
You even managed to convince him to record voiceovers for a few of your GRWM videos, purely because you thought it would be hilarious and thankfully, his soft, awkward narration had now become a fan favorite.
Jungkook was everything you weren't... quiet, reserved, more comfortable behind a screen than in front of one. He didn't seek attention, didn't chase validation. He was happy existing in the background.
But for you, he stepped into the spotlight. Over and over again.
And you absolutely adored him for it. For his patience. For his kindness. For the way he always—always—made you feel like you weren't too much, even when you knew you probably were.
You know that most of the things you say, most of the things you do, barely register as important in his world. But he listens and helps you do it anyway, only because it matters to you.
Jungkook watches you with a small, almost imperceptible smile as you lie sprawled across his bed, legs lazily kicking in the air while you continue to ramble on about Jiwon and how it's so hard to secure an appointment with her because she's always booked.
It's endearing. The kind of domesticity he never thought he'd find so... warm. You're nothing like him... bright where he's quiet, bold where he's reserved, yet he likes it.
Likes you.
Jungkook remembers the first time he saw you so vividly, like it's burned into his brain. It was on the 2nd day of freshman orientation.
You were wearing these loose, low-waisted jeans that somehow looked effortless instead of sloppy, paired with a top that flashed just a sliver of your hips every time you moved. Your hair fell in layered waves, makeup sharp and glossy, but honestly... he barely registered those details.
What really caught him was your energy. You had this magnetic confidence, the kind that commanded attention without even trying. You laughed easily, made friends within minutes, and seemed to glide through the crowd like you belonged everywhere.
Jungkook, on the other hand, had blended into the wallpaper that day. Shuffling around with his laptop bag, adjusting his glasses every few seconds, hoping no one would talk to him for more than two minutes.
But he had watched you, just for a little longer than he probably should have and thought to himself, wow.
The thing about Jungkook is, he's always been a hopeless romantic. The kind of guy who cries over romance animes at 2 AM, thinks holding hands in winter is peak intimacy, and genuinely believes kissing in the rain might cure the world's problems.
He's also the kind of person who believes that when you meet the one meant for you, the universe will let you know with soft bell chimes in the air, a gentle ringing in your chest, like some cosmic signal only you can hear.
And that day, when his eyes first found you in the sea of strangers, he swore he heard bells.
But unfortunately, Jungkook was also more hopeless than romantic.
Approaching girls? Nope. Eye contact? Terrifying. Flirting? That was an urban legend he had only seen in movies.
Jungkook's never had a girlfriend and high school had been a blur of random girls seeking him out because they thought he was cute, mainly drawn in by his adorable smile and doe eyes. But their interest fizzled out just as quickly as it sparked, the moment they realized he wasn't some effortlessly cool bad boy or charming heartbreaker.
He was just... him. Quiet. Awkward.
The boy who took too long to respond to texts because he was overthinking every word, who blushed when someone sat too close, who found more comfort in rotting in his room solving a sudoko puzzle over the weekend, than navigating the social labyrinth of teenage romance.
So, that day at orientation, all he did was admire you from a safe distance, fully convinced you existed in a league he wasn't even qualified to spectate. He brushed it off, telling himself that you'd never ever notice a guy like him and he was almost certain he'd never see you again.
But fate is funny like that.
Because two months later, you were standing at his door with a fresh set of nails and a cool jacket, asking him if his roommate listing was still open.
And suddenly, the girl who was once nothing more than a fleeting dream was now stealing his WiFi, using his arm as a makeup palette, and casually making him fall for her just a little more every single day.
He loved it when you asked him to take your pictures, loved the way you trusted him so instinctively with your angles, your poses, your vision. Loved that you valued his input, sought his opinions like they actually mattered.
Loved that you pulled him into your silly little videos, even when he was red-faced and stiff, fumbling through whatever tiktok dance or GRWM voiceover you'd roped him into.
Yes, he was shy. Yes, he was awkward. Always unsure of where to place his hands or how to soften his default nervous smile.
But it felt good... really good to be included. To be wanted. To be someone you liked having around.
Because for someone who usually dreaded conversations lasting more than two minutes, talking to you, laughing with you... just being with you, felt like the easiest thing in the world.
"Oh my god, Y/n !!" Jimin exclaims as both of you weave through the econ building, making your way towards the last class of the day. You glance at him and notice the way he's clutching onto his phone, scrolling with his eyes widened in shock.
"What now?" you ask, already giggling as you lean in to peek at his screen. "Your recent tiktok—the one with Jungkook?" He spins his phone around, shoving it in your face. "One. Million. Views. You're both famous, babe."
Your eyes widen, and you fumble for your own phone, unlocking it. The video you'd posted just last week, titled "Styling My Shy Roommate" had absolutely exploded. You scroll through the the screen flooded with heart emojis and a bunch of comments.
"WHY IS HE BLUSHING LIKE THAT?? I'M WEAKKKKK" "Softboy era activated." "Tell him he doesn't need to pay rent—he can just stand in my living room." "Is he okay? He looks like he's being held hostage but also kind of loving it??"
You can't help but grin as your mind flashes back to the memory of filming it. How Jungkook stood in your room like he was awaiting sentencing, stiff as a board while you fussed over his sleeves and buttoned up the cardigan you had handpicked from the men's section after dragging him through three different stores
He had looked so painfully nervous, wide eyes consciously darting to the camera while you just told him to act natural. Well, spoiler alert, he did not act natural. He looked like he was buffering.
"I swear..." Jimin starts again. "You need to start paying him royalties at this point. That poor boy is practically your unpaid intern." he says, making you laugh because honestly, he's not wrong.
"The comments are killing me." Jimin continues. "He's practically the internet's emotional support introvert right now." he cackles while you snort, flicking through more comments yourself. "I should show him these. He'll pass out." you joke.
"Or he'll delete all his social media and go off the grid." Jimin deadpans. "He's so shy, Y/n. Every time I come over, he looks like he's deciding whether to greet me or make a break for the fire escape."
"He's like that with everyone. It's just who he is." you say fondly with a giggle. "Uh-huh. But with you? He isn't so shy." Jimin grins, making you furrow your brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm just saying... you seem to be the only one who gets him to break out of that socially awkward equilibrium. Everyone else gets market stagnation, but you? You trigger an expansion." Jimin animatedly explains as both of you enter the lecture hall.
"Oh my god, not you sneaking in an econ joke right before class... please, have some shame." you click your tongue, the mock disappointment on your face making Jimin snicker.
"But... maybe you're right. We've lived together for over a year now, so I guess he's just used to me. Besides, I annoy him 24/7, he kind of doesn't have a choice." You chuckle.
"But seriously though... he looked so good in that video, right? Like, you can't tell me the supply-demand curve wasn't absolutely peaking in the comments section." you giggle, nudging Jimin with your elbow.
"Of course you had to drag market behavior into this." Jimin groans. "What can I say? Consumer preferences are shifting heavily towards soft boys in cardigans." you shrug as you settle into your seat.
"And you—" Jimin points accusingly. "—are monopolizing the supply." he finishes, taking the seat right next to you.
You both dissolve into laughter as you pull out your iPads, getting ready for class. As you settle in, Jimin leans over one last time. "Seriously though, next time you get him into a vest or whatever, you owe him dinner. Or, like... a retirement plan." he says, raising his brows.
"Deal. But if he quits, you're my backup model." you grin. "I expect hazard pay." he jokes.
After what feels like an eternity, class wraps up as students shuffle out of the lecture hall. You and Jimin gather your things, falling into step like clockwork, until you reach the point where your paths diverge.
"Yoongi's waiting." Jimin singsongs with a smile, fingers already flying across his phone, no doubt texting his boyfriend. "You literally saw him this morning." You tease, but there's no real bite to it. "And I'll see him tonight. And tomorrow. And forever." Jimin says sassily like he's rubbing it on your face.
Yoongi, Jimin's beloved boyfriend is a music composition major, and they've been in a relationship for as long as you can remember. They moved in together a few months ago, and though they practically breathe the same air from dawn to dusk, Jimin is still giddy every time Yoongi's name rolls off his tongue.
Like he's tasting sugar. Like it's new, every single day.
It's nauseating, really. But... God, you adore it so much because you want that. You want that so badly it aches.
The kind of love that seeps into every corner of a life.
Because beneath the curated facade... the effortless 'baddie' aesthetic you've crafted so carefully for your social feed, the glossy veneer of perfection, the sponsored posts with captions that take you twenty minutes to get just right, the flawless outfit, the perfect make up, beneath all of that, you're still just... a girl.
A girl who dreams of something gentle. A story that doesn't just make your heart race, but one that holds it. Cradles it.
You'd had your fair share of relationships back in high school—though, looking back, you weren't even sure you could call them that anymore. They felt more like fleeting situationships, placeholders for something that never quite materialized.
None of them had ever left you feeling full, like you'd found what you were looking for.
The guys were either maddeningly nonchalant, treating you like an option rather than a choice, or they messed up in ways that left fractures too deep to overlook—texting other girls behind your back, swiping through dating apps while still feeding you lines about how much they liked you.
Some didn't approve of the way you carried yourself, the way you dressed, the way you took up space so unapologetically. And instead of embracing you for you, they tried to mold you into something smaller, something easier—something you were never meant to be.
It was like you were always almost there, almost close to something real, but every time, it slipped right through your fingers because no one ever quite aligned with what you thought love should feel like—the kind you'd dreamed of, the kind you still believed was out there.
A love that feels like stepping into the warmth of home after a long day. A love where they peel oranges for you, open a pomegranate for you, or perhaps shell pistachios just so your fingertips don't hurt.
It's something simple, something almost unnoticed, yet it's there as a quiet proof that they care, that they'd do those little things for you, just because.
Built not on grand gestures, but in the smallest details... like bringing you coffee with your order memorized perfectly, playlists made on lazy sunday afternoons titled with inside jokes only the two of you would understand, the way their arms hold you not just when you're breaking, but simply because you're there. Because they want you close, always.
The kind of love that wraps around you like a blanket, never asking you to be anything other than who you truly are. Something that feels like you were always meant to find each other, like the universe stitched your souls together long before you even met.
A love that makes "forever" feel less like a promise and more like a certainty, like no matter what happens, no matter how hard the world pushes or pulls, you'll always end up back in each other's arms because you're just... stuck together, but not in the way that feels like a trap but in the way that feels like home.
You've always wanted that. Something like that. And maybe one day, you'll have it. You'd like to believe so.
When you started college, you found yourself investing more into yourself...your style, your confidence, the way you carried yourself through the world. You became your own priority, and it showed. Not just on your meticulously curated social media, but in real life too.
People noticed—especially guys. They approached you constantly. Some with that awkward, endearing charm, asking for your number or trying to secure a date. Others? Not so much. Your DMs became a war zone... filled with weird, borderline unhinged messages that made you cringe so hard you had to physically put your phone down sometimes.
Most times, it was a reply to a thirst trap—one that, to be fair, was strictly meant for the girls—yet there's always some random guy trying to shoot his shot or it's a string of desperate comments flooding in, all vying for your attention.
But you knew, deep down, that if you were ever going to meet your soulmate, it sure as hell wouldn't be through a sloppy DM or a thirst-driven comment.
You shake off the thought with a small sigh as you continue walking while the sun hangs low, casting a warm, golden hue over the pavement. The evening breeze is warm as you near your building.
The minute you unlock the door to your apartment, the familiar sight of Jungkook's sneakers neatly lined up by the doorway makes you smile, signaling he's already home.
And when you walk further in, you instantly sense him in the kitchen. You carelessly drop your bag onto the couch and drag yourself towards the kitchen, resting your elbows on the island as you watch him by the stove, cooking.
"Oh, hey." He smiles, once he notices your presence. "You're home."
You smile back, moving around the island as you inch closer to him and hop onto the counter, a little away from the stove. "What're you making?" you ask, peering at the dish curiously. It's obvious he's making jajangmyeon—but you want to hear it from him anyway.
"Jajangmyeon." he answers, his lips curling into a small smile. "How was class?"
"Same old." you sigh, swinging your legs lazily over the edge of the counter. He nods at your words, his attention drifting back to the food.
"Also!" you suddenly exclaim, pulling your phone out of your pocket. "Kook, your tikok—the one I posted last week—it hit a million views!! Look, you're famous!!!" You shove your phone in his direction, practically vibrating with excitement.
Jungkook's eyes widen in shock, his hands instinctively reaching out to hold your phone, bringing it closer for a better look. "One... One million views?" he stammers, utterly dumbfounded.
Jungkook doesn't even have a tiktok account. Social media was never really his thing, but he kept Instagram around mainly for the reels... the kind that catered perfectly to his inner nerd.
His algorithm had him in a chokehold, feeding him everything from bizarre mating facts about deep-sea squids to oddly soothing videos of people assembling custom-built mechanical keyboards. Sometimes, it was a guy 3D-printing a fully functional wrench that looked like it could survive a whole trip to Mars.
And, well, he followed you too.
So, amidst all that nerdy and geeky stuff...your stories, your pictures, your reels (that occasionally included him ofc) were his absolute favorites. But that's a conversation for another time.
He rarely posted anything about himself so it was safe to say his social media presence was practically nonexistent.
Well... that was until you came along. Because, apparently—duh—he's internet famous now?? The fact that one million people had seen his face was nothing short of mind-boggling.
"Read the comments. Everyone's gushing over you." you laugh, and Jungkook scrolls through the barrage of responses.
"Soft boy aesthetic but he looks like he's seconds from passing out?? #needTHAT" "Tell him rent is FREE if he stands in my kitchen looking nervous." "Protect him at all costs." "I'd give him my kidney"
Jungkook doesn't even know what half of these mean, but he can feel his ears growing hotter by the second.
"Some of them are crazy, but they're so right. You do look cute." you giggle, looking over at him. At that, Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm... cute?" he asks, as if he misheard you. "Yeah, you're so cute." you nod, a smile spreading across your face, and Jungkook gulps.
The way you say it so casually, with that pretty smile of yours... god he's so fucking cooked.
"You think... I'm cute?" he asks again as he adjusts his glasses, just to make sure he heard you right. "Duhhh, Kook. Haven't I established that already? You're like the cutest guy I know." you say, your smile widening with every word.
Jungkook swears his whole system just came to a screeching halt. The girl who caught his eyes on the 2nd day of orientation, the girl who he was convinced was miles out of his league, the girl who somehow, magically, became his roommate, the girl of his dreams thinks... he's cute.
She thinks he's cute.
It's like his mind just short-circuited and it's enough to leave him speechless. He wonders if you know the effect you or your words have on him and all he can do is just stare at you in utter disbelief.
"This calls for a celebration!!" you suddenly declare, hopping off the counter and striding towards the refrigerator. Jungkook blinks, still processing the whole 'You're like the cutest guy I know' thing as he watches you yank open the fridge and pull out two bottles of soju.
Of course.
He should've seen this coming the moment you made a beeline for the fridge. He's lived with you long enough to know that your version of a celebration involves downing shot after shot until the living room magically transforms into a karaoke room, and you're belting out some sappy '80s love song like your life depends on it.
But he still smiles because the sheer, unfiltered happiness on your face as you clutch the two bottles of soju close to your chest and pull out two shot glasses from the cabinet above, makes his heart do that thing again.
That stupid thing. Where it feels like it's going to burst.
"PUTTTT YOURRRR HEADDDD ONNN MYYY—" A cough cuts through your performance, but you soldier on, determined. "MYYYY SHHHOULDDERRR!"
Jungkook winces slightly, squinting as your voice pierces through the room, raising goosebumps on his skin—not the good kind.
Now he might be hopelessly, head over heels for you, but for the love of all things holy, you cannot sing. He's convinced that when the universe was crafting you, perfection in every way, it must've thrown this one flaw in, just to keep things fair.
That's what he tells himself anyway as he makes his way over, watching your drunk self standing on the coffee table like it's your stage as you clutch onto the TV remote like it's a microphone.
"Okay, Y/n..." he murmurs, voice soft, hands hovering at your waist, ready to steady you if your balance falters. "I think that's enough for tonight. It's almost 2 a.m. You've got an early class tomorrow, remember?" he tries but you're still going on.
He shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he gently pries the makeshift microphone from your grasp. "Come on." he coaxes, guiding you down from your precarious perch.
You mumble a string of complaints, the words tangled together in your tipsiness, nearly tripping over your own feet. But Jungkook's right there, strong and steady, his arm slipping around your waist, holding you up like he always does.
With careful steps, he leads you to your room, the door creaking open as you lean into him, your cheek brushing against his shoulder. You're humming now...some incoherent melody, but he's used to this.
He's taken care of you like this more times than he can count. And if he's being honest, he doesn't mind. Not one bit. Because even now, with your cheeks flushed from the alcohol and your eyelids heavy with sleep, he thinks you look unfairly pretty.
"Here we go." he whispers, lowering you onto the middle of your bed. You groan in protest, wriggling like a petulant child as he tries to pull the blanket over you. He can see it—the exhaustion you're fighting so hard to push away just because you want to keep this night going.
"Kookie... I don't wanna sleep yetttt." you whine, your voice muffled against the pillow. He only smiles, his heart doing that ridiculous thing again... tightening and swelling all at once, as he tucks you in with gentle hands.
"Kookieee..." you draw out his name again, pouting this time, but he stands on business, adjusting the blanket around you. "Kookie, come onnn..." You try one last time, your fingers curling around his wrist, tugging weakly. "At least stay with me until I sleep. Pleaseeeee?"
And just like that, he's done for because, if Jungkook's being honest, when it comes to you, his resistance has the structural integrity of a wet tissue paper. So, with a soft defeated sigh, he straightens up.
"Okay, fine. I'll stay." he murmurs, already eyeing the chair by your desk in the corner, thinking he'll just drag it over and sit by your side until you drift off. It's what he usually does on nights like this... close enough to soothe you but keeping a bit of space, because, well... boundaries.
But apparently, you have other plans because before he can even take a step towards the chair, your hand shoots out as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you yank him with a surprising force for someone who, mere seconds ago, could barely stand.
It's clumsy and sudden. His balance tips, heart lurching for a split second, and then before he can even process it, he lands right next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
"That's better." you sigh tiredly still holding his wrist as you nuzzle into the pillow and inch just a little closer to Jungkook's warm body.
Jungkook knows you don't even realize what you're doing, that you'll probably have no memory of this tomorrow but his heart doesn't seem to care about any of that. It's racing like he's just run a marathon, each thud echoing in his ears as he stares at the ceiling with wide eyes. Because, this? This, he definitely did not see coming.
He lies there, stiff as a board, every muscle tense, trying to will his heart into calming down. Minutes pass... though they feel like hours, before he finally works up the courage to glance over at you.
You're still. Eyes closed, breathing soft and even.
Asleep.
He exhales slowly, relief and something else... something dangerously close to disappointment washing over him.
But this is his chance to finally get up and put some distance between his rapidly deteriorating heart rate and your sleeping form. Because, honestly? Being this close to you is doing things to him and he might actually be on the verge of a cardiac event.
Carefully, he lifts his hand, fingers moving to gently untangle yours from his wrist. But the moment he tries, you let out a small, sleepy whine and your grip tightens instinctively.
Okay. So, not asleep.
Jungkook freezes, hand hovering midair, before letting out the quietest, most defeated sigh known to man. Fine. He'll stay. Just until you fall asleep completely.
How hard can that be?
"Mmm... flowers...? Why does it smell like flowers? Am I... dreaming of a garden?" Jungkook's half-asleep mind stirs, thoughts weaving through the haze of slumber as his sleepy imagination spirals, picturing himself twirling through a meadow, maybe exchanging pleasantries with a particularly charming sunflower.
But the scent isn't fading... it's getting stronger. And it's getting too real.
Then, something soft brushes against his nose, making him twitch. He scrunches his face, trying to escape it, but the gentle tickling continues and suddenly the feeling of something warm and solid pressed against his chest hits him.
And that's when his eyelids flutter open, pupils adjusting to the faint morning light, only to be met with a cascade of hair.
Your hair. All over his face.
As realization settles over him like a crashing wave, Jungkook's eyes trail downward... and that's when he sees it. His arm, draped snugly around your waist. His hand resting against the soft fabric of your shirt. Your lower bodies pressed flush together, tangled under the sheets like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Jungkook's jaw practically unhinges.
Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.
Did he actually fall asleep last night? Fuck. He was only supposed to stay until you drifted off—not fall asleep with you. But that's not even the real problem right now because... did he really fall asleep like this? Holding you? Spooning you? His brain short-circuits, running frantic laps between sheer panic and the undeniable warmth pooling in his chest.
And just when he's still in the middle of processing this ridiculous situation, you shift, pushing back into him, your body pressing even closer, and Jungkook's breath hitches sharply in his throat. His jaw clenches, lips pursing just enough to swallow down the pained noise threatening to escape.
God, you were too close. Too fucking close.
And his body? Yeah, it's reacting. Predictably. Involuntarily. In a way that makes him want to fling himself into the sun.
He screws his eyes shut, mentally begging for divine intervention or at the very least, for you to stay asleep. Because if you wake up right now and find him like this? In your bed? Spooning you? With that pressing against you?
There's no explanation in the universe that could get him out of this one. No amount of stammering or panicked rambling could justify the very obvious, very mortifying problem currently happening beneath the covers.
Because Jungkook knows this isn't just his usual morning wood. In fact, this has very little to do with the morning and everything to do with you... and your ass currently pressed against him.
It's almost like his body made an executive decision to completely betray him the second you leaned back into him, and now he's left here... stiff in more ways than one, praying to every higher power that you stay asleep.
He knows he can't stay here any longer. Not like this. Because if we're being honest, this is toeing the line of violating all kinds of boundaries, and Jungkook respects you far too much to risk that. The most practical, the most decent thing to do is to slip away quietly before you wake up and find him in this compromising position.
So, with painstaking caution, he begins to move. He peels the covers back just enough, carefully untangling his arm from around your waist and this time, thankfully, you remain in your deep slumber, no sleepy whine of protest like last night.
He exhales a low sigh of relief when he finally pushes himself off the bed, standing up straight. His heart is still racing, but at least he's free. He spares a glance back to find you still curled on your side, blissfully unaware of his internal crisis and then he glances at the clock—there's still a little over an hour before your morning class.
Perfect.
Enough time to retreat to his room, take a cold shower (because, God, does he need one), and then start making breakfast. That way, by the time you wake up, everything will look perfectly normal. Like he had the most uneventful, innocent night ever.
So, he steps out of your room, making a swift retreat to his own and then storms into the bathroom, strips off his clothes and steps into the shower. He sighs softly, letting the water rush down his body letting it drown out the chaotic rhythm his heart has adopted ever since he woke up.
By the time he's dressed in a fresh set of clothes, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, he finally feels somewhat normal again... like his body and mind have called a temporary truce.
But that fragile calm nearly shatters when he opens the door and spots you standing by the fridge, chugging a bottle of water.
"Oh, hey." you croak, lowering the bottle when you notice him. Your voice is thick with sleep, scratchy, and with the way you squint your eyes against the morning light, Jungkook knows the hangover is hitting you hard.
"Just whyyyy did you let me drink so much last night?" you whine, shoving the bottle back into the fridge.
By the way you're acting, it's obvious you have no idea what happened last night or this morning... how Jungkook woke up with his arm wrapped around you. Spooning you. With... other complications involved.
Jungkook forces a chuckle, a wave of relief washing over him as he quickly regains his composure. "I tried to stop you, but I gave up when you went back for the fourth bottle like a woman on a mission." he teases, gesturing towards the battlefield that is your living room, with empty soju bottles scattered across the floor like war casualties.
"I have class in an hour, and I swear my head is splitting open." You groan, pressing your fingertips to your temples. Jungkook smiles softly, already moving towards the mess to start cleaning up. He would've done it last night, but, well—things had taken a different turn.
"Why don't you freshen up? I'll make you some soup." he offers and you pause, leaning against the island as you watch him bend down to pick up the bottles.
You've lost count of how many times Jungkook has cleaned up after you, nursed your hangovers, made you breakfast, made sure you were okay. He's like an angel in disguise, you think. And you have no idea how he hasn't gotten tired of you yet.
"Thank you, Kook. Seriously..." you say, voice softer this time, laced with sincerity. He glances up, pausing his movements just to give you one of those warm smiles, the kind that always makes your heart feel full. "Anytime." he says simply.
With that, you shuffle off to your room to get ready for the day. By the time you're out the door, stomach full of warm soup, your headache is nothing but a distant memory. And it's all because of your amazing roommate.
"A penny for your thoughts?" Taehyung's voice slices through the quiet hum of the library, pulling Jungkook's scattered thoughts away from the screen in front of him. For the last thirty minutes, he'd been attempting to focus on the leetcode assessment in front of him, but no matter how hard he tried, all that's occupying his mind is you.
He just can't seem to stop thinking about you... how you called him cute last night, how you leaned into him when you were tipsy, the scent of you hair, how warm and soft you felt pressed against him this morning.
Jungkook clears his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and quickly brings his focus back onto the screen, eyes darting across the lines of code, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if trying to will himself into action. But it's no use.
"Yeah... I just... I was just trying to figure this code out." he lies, forcing the words out as smoothly as possible. But Taehyung, ever the perceptive one, doesn't buy it even for a second. He leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes, clearly not convinced. "It's Y/n again, isn't it?" he raises an eyebrow.
Taehyung was one of the first friends Jungkook made at university. They shared the same major, and if Jungkook was being honest with himself, he liked to think of them as kindred spirits. Of course, calling them similar might be a bit of a stretch, but it was safe to say they were the same person, just in different fonts.
For starters, they both shared the same nerdy interests... coding, anime, and all things geeky, but when it came to personality, they were worlds apart.
Unlike Jungkook, Taehyung was bright, outgoing, and confident. He had this infectious charisma that seemed to draw people in effortlessly, and on top of that, he was also the star player of the university's soccer team.
It was Taehyung who first approached Jungkook for a paired assignment at the start of the first semester, and that's how their friendship began to form. Over time, they grew close, and now, after spending so much time together, Taehyung had become well aware of Jungkook's deep feelings for you... something Jungkook had reluctantly confessed after a lot of prodding.
Taehyung was, unfortunately, very good at getting people to open up, and Jungkook was no exception. He could be annoyingly persistent when it came to matters of the heart.
"No." Jungkook scoffs, but Taehyung, ever the observant one, immediately catches the bright red hue creeping up his ears. A grin spreads across Taehyung's face as he leans in, elbowing Jungkook. "Come on, tell me what happened now?" he prods as usual.
"Nothing, Tae. Leave me alone and focus on your work." Jungkook mutters, his tone flat, hoping to brush the conversation aside.
Taehyung, however, isn't so easily deterred. "Hey, come on, is it really that bad? I just want to know how things are going with your roommate." he says, with a pout. "You know, the roommate you're so hopelessly in love with." he adds with a smirk.
Jungkook throws a sharp glare at him. "Watch your mouth." he warns, though a part of him knows Taehyung is only doing this to get a rise out of him.
"Honestly..." Taehyung starts again, resting his chin on his hand. "I don't know how you do it. Living in the same house with the girl you've liked since the very first time you saw her, all while concealing your very real romantic feelings for her...." He pauses, giving Jungkook an exaggerated once-over.
"That is not for the weak, Kook. You're just built different because seriously I would have combusted by now."
Jungkook keeps his eyes on the screen, fingers tapping the keys though he's barely processing what he's typing. "It's not that easy." he says casually, trying to brush off the weight of the conversation.
"It's... kind of sickening sometimes, you know? Being under the same roof with her.. seeing her every day... and knowing I'm probably nowhere near her league..." He sighs, meeting Taehyung's gaze again, an almost resigned look in his eyes.
Taehyung's playful expression softens and he leans in a little, lowering his voice. "Hey... don't do that. Don't sell yourself short." His words are gentle but firm.
"I'm pretty sure Y/n isn't the kind of person who cares about stuff like 'leagues.' And honestly, that whole idea? It's bullshit. No one's out of anyone's league, Kook. Relationships aren't about rankings. They're all about connection. About how you make each other feel."
Jungkook's fingers slow to a stop, his eyes flicking towards Taehyung, searching for something—reassurance, maybe. "If you're genuine, if you care about her the way I know you do, that's what matters. It's not about being the 'best' or 'coolest' guy. It's about being the right person for her.
Jungkook inhales slowly, carefully absorbing Taehyung's words. Maybe he's right. Maybe everything Jungkook has built up in his mind... the leagues, the what-ifs, the invisible walls, maybe they're all just ghosts of his own making.
But still... that gnawing insecurity, the self-doubt that's burrowed so deeply into his chest, it clings to him like a second skin.
Because, god, he wants it. He wants everything with you. He wants to hold your hand, wants to hold you close. He wants to do all the little things for you, the ones that might seem trivial to someone else but mean everything to him.
Like making you your favorite breakfast, folding your laundry because you forgot again, or fixing your ring light when it flickers out right before you film.
He always wants to be the one you pull into your silly tiktok dances or the one you use as a human swatch palette, drawing streaks of lip stains and eyeshadow along his arm for as long as you please.
He wants to be there—not just as a passing presence—but a constant. Someone you can always rely on, someone who always brightens your day, someone who always feels like home.
But wanting and having—they still feel like two entirely different worlds.
And the thought of losing what little he already has with you... the impromptu friendship, the effortless laughter, the quiet comfort of existing in the same apartment, it terrifies him.
So, he stays where he is. Close, but not too close. Wanting, but never reaching. Because taking that first step feels like standing on the edge of a cliff—one wrong move, and everything could come crashing down.
"Alright, everyone. It's that time of the semester again—time to talk about your upcoming research paper on macroeconomic market trends." Mr. Jang, your eccentric yet strangely endearing macroeconomics professor, announces just as the lecture is nearing its end.
His words send a collective groan rippling through the lecture hall as heads drop onto desks, pens clatter, and someone even mutters a dramatic "Nooo..." like they're being sent to war.
Beside you, Jimin lets out an exaggerated huff, slumping down in his seat like he's just been personally victimized. "Just take me out now. This is where I die." he mutters under his breath. You sigh, nodding in solidarity. "Literally, same."
"You'll be working in pairs." Mr. Jang continues, unfazed by the chorus of complaints. At that, the mood shifts and a subtle spark of hope lights up the room. Pair work is always better than slogging through a solo paper.
People immediately start throwing side glances at their friends, silent pacts being made through nods and raised brows. You and Jimin exchange the same look. It's obvious—you're a team. You've been surviving Mr. Jang's chaotic assignments together for multiple semesters now, and besides, you barely know anyone else in this massive lecture hall.
But then, just as people are settling into the relief of pre-determined partnerships, Mr. Jang's voice cuts through again like a dagger. "But... I'm feeling a little adventurous this time." he grins and a new wave of dread passes over the room. Everyone knows exactly where this is going.
"I'm all about broadening horizons, getting you guys out of your comfort zones. So... I've decided to switch things up. You won't be picking your own partners." he says and the collective mood plummets again and some students visibly deflate in their seats.
Mr. Jang grins, clearly enjoying this far too much. "I've made a list of the pairs myself, and I'll be emailing it to you all by this evening."
Jimin lets out a suffering groan. "Like this couldn't possibly get any worse." he says and you nod, just as disappointed. The last thing you want is to be paired with some random person in class who either has no clue what's going on or is just impossible to coordinate with.
You've always been the kind of person who loves making new friends, striking up conversations with strangers, and weaving your way into different social circles with ease. But when it came to assignments? That was a different story. You'd rather stick with your best friend, Jimin or at least someone you know, because there's always a silent understanding of each other's work styles.
No awkward debates over who would do what, no last-minute panicing because someone forgot their part. You just knew how to get things done, efficiently and without the headache.
"Alright, settle down!" Mr. Jang claps his hands to regain control as the students continue to protest. "Once you get your partner, I expect you to reach out, collaborate, and submit the assignment by the end of next month. That's two whole weeks before the finals, so that should be plenty of time, right?"
A few half-hearted nods follow, but it's clear most people are already bracing themselves for the impending awkward small talk and the inevitable "So... uh, how do you wanna do this?" conversation.
"Good. I expect great things from you guys. Class dismissed!"
As you gather your things, Jimin leans in, his voice thick with impending doom. "I swear to god, if I end up with someone who does nothing, and I have to write the entire paper myself... just know, this might actually be my end."
Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you chuckle. "I'll put flowers on your grave." you joke, giving him a wink. "Make sure it's daisies, please." he shoots back as he follows you out of the lecture hall.
The warm afternoon sun greets you as you step out of the building, its golden rays spilling over the campus like honey. You walk beside Jimin, already caught up in some random conversation but it doesn't take long before you hear your name being called— all high-pitched and excited.
You glance up to see a group of girls waving at you from across the courtyard, their smiles as bright as the sun. You know them, or at least you know their usernames because they're the same ones who're always flooding your comment section every time you post, hyping up your nails, your outfits, asking for makeup links, or DMing you to say you "ate" and left no crumbs.
You giggle and wave back just as enthusiastically, earning a chorus of delighted squeals in return.
Jimin clicks his tongue beside you. "Oh god. Here we go. Ms. Influenza. Ms. Campus Celebrity. Ms. 'Get Ready With Me for my 8 AM Lecture.'—"
"Don't start." you cut him off, laughing.
"I'm just saying..." he holds his hands up, grinning. "Should I get my camera out? You wanna do a quick fit check? Maybe we should go live—'Hey guys, just walking across campus, breathing oxygen, being gorgeous.'"
You swat at his arm, making him snort.
"You're just mad because no one's ever asked you where you got your jeans from." you quip and Jimin gasps, clutching his chest like you've struck him. "Excuse you, these are vintage—thrifted with love. For all we know, the previous owner died in them. Their ghost is probably hovering around right now, deeply offended by your slander."
You snort, but he's on a roll. "And, for your kind information, not everyone can pull off thrifted cargo pants also—what is that? A baby tee? Are you auditioning for Bratz: The Resurrection?"
You gasp dramatically, hand flying to your chest. "It's called style, Jimin."
"Right, right. My apologies, Ms. Vogue."
You both burst out laughing, as you continue walking, ready to head home. You pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling, until you suddenly realize what day it is today. "Shit." you mutter under your breath.
Jimin's head whips towards you, immediately on high alert. "What? Did someone comment some weird shit again? Is this about that guy who said he'd drink your bathwater?"
You freeze, turning to him slowly, face twisted in horror. "Chim, why the hell would you remind me of that?"
"Hey, I'm traumatized too, okay ??"
You shake your head, trying to banish the cursed memory. "No, it's not that. It's just... it's grocery shopping day."
You and Jungkook have this little system where you both take turns grocery shopping and keep the cabinets and fridge stocked with all the essentials. He had tried to convince you, more than once, that he could handle it every time, but you wouldn't let him.
After all, you were roommates and it was only fair the responsibility was shared equally. And since he made the last trip, it obviously means it's your turn now.
"Wanna accompany me??" You glance at Jimin, hopeful and he doesn't even hesitate. "Girl, you're on your own." he says. "Besides, I've got plans with Yoongi." he adds after a beat, making you roll your eyes.
"Come onnn, you see that man every hour of the day." you groan, throwing your head back, exasperated. "All I'm asking for is one measly trip to the grocery store."
You shift your stance as you loop your arms around his, giving him your most pleading pout, paired with fluttering lashes, hoping it might be enough to convince him. But all your best friend does is look at you with disgust. "Girl, you can literally go with your roommate." he shoots back, unfazed.
"Come on, Chim, you know we take turns grocery shopping. He went last time, so I have to go this time, I have no choice but I don't wanna go alone. So come with me pleeeeaseeee." You drag out the last word, hoping your puppy-dog eyes will seal the deal.
Jimin groans, exasperated with a disgusted look but let's out a resigned sigh as he pulls his arm out of your grip. "Ugh, fine." he relents and his expression changes almost immediately. "But let's go with Yoongi. He can drive us there. You know, in his new car." he adds, already getting giddy at the mention of his boyfriend.
It's your turn to give him the disgusted look now, but you know walking to the store is a far less appealing option and third-wheeling the insufferable couple is a little price you'll have to pay for convenience.
Jungkook rises from the couch the moment he hears the front door creak open. His eyes immediately land on you, followed closely by Jimin and Yoongi, each of you juggling oversized bags filled to the brim with groceries.
"Oh, hey Kook." you exhale, slipping off your shoes. "Hey, JK." Jimin offers a bright smile, while Yoongi gives a small, acknowledging nod as the three of you shuffle inside the apartment.
"Today was grocery shopping day?" Jungkook asks, his gaze softening as he steps forward, instinctively relieving you of the heavy bag in your hand, his fingers brushing faintly against yours, before you can even nod.
Jimin and Yoongi exchange a knowing glance, trying to hold back their smiles, before making their way towards the kitchen island. "Yeah, so I had these two help me out." you answer following them as they set the bags down and Jungkook follows suit.
"You know what happened today, JK?" Jimin suddenly begins, and you immediately roll your eyes, already knowing where this is headed. "Come on Chim, you're overacting" you sigh, moving towards the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
Jungkook blinks, slightly confused as he looks at Jimin. "What happened?" he questions softly.
"We were supposed to be done with grocery shopping an hour ago, okay? But this one—" Jimin pauses to accusingly jab a finger in your direction "—decided to go on a quest for Twinkies."
"Twinkies?" Jungkook tilts his head. That's his favorite snack.
"Yeah, Twinkies." Jimin echoes, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "They weren't in any of the aisles, and you know what she did?" he pauses again, his lips twitching.
"She caused a full-blown search operation in the store. Had half the staff combing through the shelves like we were looking for some buried treasure." he explains animatedly.
"And then—get this—someone finally dug them out from the stockroom in the back." Jimin finishes while Yoongi leans against the island, watching his boyfriend with a fond smile, as if Jimin's exaggerated storytelling is the most adorable thing in the word.
Well, though Jimin was being his usual overdramatic self—spinning the story more for entertainment than accuracy—there was still truth in his words.
You knew exactly how much Jungkook loved Twinkies. He hadn't exactly made a big deal out of it, but you remembered, because he'd casually mentioned once, in a passing conversation that Twinkies were his comfort snack.
It was a small, fleeting detail, but it had stuck with you and since then, every time it was your turn to handle the groceries, you made it a point to grab a pack—sometimes even three—just to see that contented smile grace his cute face when he found them in the pantry.
And today was no different. Well, maybe just a little because you'd had to put in some extra effort—scour the aisles, rally a few employees, and stir up more commotion than you intended—but in the end, you got them. Because it was for Jungkook.
"I literally just asked if they had more in stock." you defend yourself as you close the fridge and cross your arms. "Oh, please." Jimin scoffs, though there's no real heat behind his words.
"Come on, baby." Yoongi chimes in. "You know she just wanted to get the Twinkies because Jungkook likes them." he says. "Yeah, like, forgive me for trying to get his favorite snack." you shrug, a light laugh escaping.
"I get that." Jimin concedes with a sigh, though his eyes are still playful. "But was it really necessary to rally the entire staff? You were going, 'No, I need the Twinkies. Jungkook loves Twinkies. I'm not leaving until I get the Twinkies.' Like, girl I'm sure he would've survived a day without them." He shakes his head in disbelief.
"Why even go to such lengths for Twinkies of all things?" he continues, exasperated and you simply smile at him, shrugging. "Just because."
Jimin stares at you, utterly unimpressed. "Just because?" he echoes, looking personally offended. "You dragged us through an entire covert operation just because?"
You laugh at that and Yoongi joins in too, but Jungkook only half-hears the rest of the banter because all he can think about is... You did that? All of that... for him?
The grocery trip took longer, not because you were being difficult, but because you cared. You cared enough to hunt down his favorite snack—Twinkies, of all things—like it actually mattered.
He swallows, feeling an unexpected lump in his throat. It's such a small gesture, something others might dismiss as trivial. But for fuck's sake, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He feels all tingly, almost giddy, because you really went out of your way, just for him, just for his silly little Twinkies.
Soon enough, Yoongi and Jimin bid their goodbyes, slipping out the door and you turn to Jungkook with a soft smile. "I swear, Jimin's so annoying." you shake your head, though the fondness in your voice betrays any real annoyance.
Jungkook chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he follows you into the living room. "Yeah, but he's still your best friend." he says making you playfully roll your eyes.
"Anyways, I'm gonna be in my room. Need to film this tiktok for some skincare brand." you sigh, already mentally preparing yourself for the ordeal and Jungkook nods, leaning lazily against the couch. "What do you wanna do for dinner? Takeout?" he asks.
You pause, glancing over your shoulder. "Yeah, takeout sounds good to me." you agree and he gives a thumbs-up, pushing off the couch to head towards his own room. But just as your hand wraps around your door knob, his voice gently calls out to you. "Y/n."
You hum in response, turning to find him standing by his door. His eyes are warm and his expression is softer than usual, almost tender. There's a brief pause before he opens his mouth. "Thanks for getting me the Twinkies." he says.
His words catch you off guard and you can't help but laugh, though it's more bashful than anything. "I swear, Jimin was just being so overdramatic. It's really not that big of a deal, Kook. I'll always get you Twinkies." you say, shaking your head and trying to brush it off, though the way Jungkook's gaze lingers on you makes your heart flutter just a little.
"Anyways, let me know when you're ordering the food, okay?" you say softly after a beat and before he can respond, you slip into your room, closing the door behind you. And as you lean back against it for a brief moment, a small smile tugs at your lips because somehow, a simple thank you from Jungkook feels like the sweetest thing you've heard all day.
Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. You reach for it, already anticipating the email notification that greets you.
Sure enough, it's from Mr. Jang, subject line unmistakable—his list of partners for the assignment. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, the familiar sense of dread settling in as you brace yourself for the inevitable revelation.
You swipe to open the email, preparing for whatever name awaits you on the other side, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.
"So, who's your partner?" Jimin questions, sliding into his usual spot beside you. "Some guy named... Jaehyun?" you answer, unsure. "Jaehyun?" Jimin echoes, trying to see if the name sparks any recognition, but nothing comes to mind.
This class is so huge that it's nearly impossible to keep track of everyone's name and face.
"Yeah, I have no clue who he is." you say, shrugging. "Anyways, who's yours?" you ask and Jimin's grin widens. "It's Namjoon."
You gasp. Namjoon—the genius of the class, the one whose name you've heard so many times that it's become a staple in your memory. That explains why you recognize his name and face in this sea of unfamiliar ones.
"You lucky bastard." you say, shaking your head. "I know, right?" Jimin leans back, practically glowing with excitement. "Being partners with Namjoon means that an A is already in the bag."
You exhale a resigned sigh, because all you can do right now is only hope that this Jaehyun guy is someone kind and easy to work with but before you can get further lost in your thoughts, a voice interrupts.
"Hey."
You and Jimin both look up to see a man standing in front of your desk with his gaze fixed on you. You blink, wondering what he wants. You've seen him around class a few times, but you genuinely have no idea who he is.
"Hi...?" you say, unsure, and the man chuckles softly, quickly realizing that you don't recognize him. "I'm Jaehyun... You're Y/n, right?" His tone is steady, and that's when it clicks, He's your partner for the assignment.
"Oh hey! Sorry, I'm just so bad with names and faces." you giggle sheepishly as you stand up. "It's alright." Jaehyun replies with a reassuring smile.
"Anyways..." he continues. "Since we're working on the assignment together, I just wanted to know how you'd like to start." His voice is calm and serious, and the sincerity in his tone brings an odd sense of relief because he sounds like someone who actually cares about the work.
"Oh, um..." you pause for a second, thinking. You know that most people prefer working in the library or just doing it remotely over video calls. But you'd prefer a more personal, comfortable setting, a place where both of you can freely share your ideas and thoughts without feeling rushed.
"We can start working on it at my place... it's near the campus." you suggest. "But if you have any other preferen—"
"Your place sounds fine." Jaehyun interjects with a smile and you nod at his words. "Here's my number." he says, sliding a small piece of paper on your desk. "Text me the address."
Before you can respond, the professor strides into the room, commanding everyone's attention. The casual chatter across the lecture hall dissolves into the rustling of notebooks and the scraping of chairs as people rush to their seats.
"I'll catch you later, yeah?" Jaehyun says smoothly, flashing you one last smile before turning on his heel.
You offer a polite smile back, but the moment he's out of earshot, Jimin leans in, exhaling dramatically like he's just witnessed a divine apparition. "Wow. That is one good-looking man." His eyes are wide with faux awe, clutching his chest like he's been personally affected.
You snort, giving him a pointed look. "Bro, you literally have a boyfriend." you deadpan, narrowing your eyes playfully and Jimin gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "What, I can't admire God's work? Yoongi would understand." He winks, and you roll your eyes, fighting back a laugh.
But honestly? Jaehyun's face is the last thing on your mind right now. Looks mean nothing if he turns out to be unreliable.
At this point, all you care about is getting this assignment done. As long as he's easy to communicate with and doesn't disappear off the face of the earth when deadlines hit, you'll be more than satisfied.
Jungkook is perched on the couch, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stares intently at the ridiculously huge 17x17 rubik's cube in his hands. He's been trying to solve this for a month now, with no tutorials or help, and he's starting to wonder if he's just too dumb for it.
Each twist feels like it could either be a small victory or an impending catastrophe, and the stakes couldn't feel higher. Every so often, he flicks his wrist or makes some bizarre hand motion that only he understands, like he's performing a ritual to appease the rubik's cube gods.
But just as he's about to make a breakthrough, the doorbell rings, and Jungkook hisses in frustration, as if the universe itself is conspiring to distract him. He reluctantly places the cube on the coffee table, and just as he starts to rise from the couch to answer the door, you're already darting towards it.
He sits back down, wondering if it's just one of those PR package deliveries again and brings his focus back on the cube. But his concentration flickers and dies the moment he hears a deep and unfamiliar voice floating in from the doorway.
"Come on in." he hears you say and Jungkook's head snaps up, curiosity prickling at his chest as he cranes his neck towards the entrance.
He's expecting maybe a delivery guy asking for a signature, or one of your friends like Jimin or someone, dropping by to gossip, but instead, he sees you stepping inside with someone unknown trailing closely behind you.
The guy is tall and lean, with a backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder, moving with that effortless kind of charm and the moment he steps in, his gaze sweeps over the room, before landing on Jungkook on the couch.
There's a flicker of something in his eyes but it shifts almost immediately to the oversized rubik's cube sitting on the coffee table and Jungkook is quick to notice the way the guy's lips twitch, pressing together like he's clearly holding something back.
"Oh, Kook! This is Jaehyun." you say when your eyes catch his from across the room. You gesture back at the guy, who offers a lopsided smile. "We're working on an assignment together."
Jungkook blinks, scrambling for a response, but his tongue feels annoyingly slow. "Sup, dude?" Jaehyun greets, casual, a little too confident. There's a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, subtle but it's definitely there—the kind that's easy to miss if you aren't looking closely but the thing is, Jungkook is looking closely.
And for some reason, it rubs him the wrong way.
He's no stranger to you bringing study or assignment partners home—it's normal, part of your routine. He's done the same, though every time it feels like he's navigating social quicksand, stumbling through small talk and hoping the other person doesn't pick up on his awkwardness.
Still, he stands, out of habit more than anything, flashing a small, awkward smile. "Hey."
Jaehyun exhales a soft, amused huff, like he's holding back a laugh, and Jungkook can't tell if it's just his usual demeanor or if there's something else laced beneath it. Something condescending. But before Jungkook can figure it out, you're already moving.
"Anyways, we'll be in my room, okay?" you inform him with a quick smile, not waiting for a reply as you lead Jaehyun down the hall and before Jungkook can muster a response, the door to your room clicks shut.
He drops back onto the couch, the rubik's cube long forgotten on the coffee table.
There's this thing—this gut feeling people talk about. This instinct, this unspoken warning system buried deep in your subconscious. Sometimes it's a tightening in your chest, a sudden shift in your pulse, or just a quiet, nagging whisper at the back of your mind, hinting at something your conscious brain hasn't quite caught up to yet.
It's primal, wired into human nature... the kind of feeling that makes you hesitate before stepping into the dark, or glance over your shoulder without knowing why.
And right now, that very feeling is sinking its teeth into Jungkook.
He can't explain it, can't put his finger on a single, tangible reason, but something about Jaehyun, his eyes, his stance, the way he carries himself—feels... off.
Not in an obvious way. Not in a way he could call out without sounding ridiculous.
He runs a hand through his hair, shaking it off. Maybe he's overthinking it. Maybe he's just being protective... or worse, maybe he's being jealous.
But his gut is still whispering.
And Jungkook's learned not to ignore that.
Surprisingly—and to your great relief—Jaehyun turns out to be an easygoing and cooperative partner. The last hour has been spent deep in discussion, bouncing ideas off each other, sifting through potential research topics, and, somehow, it doesn't feel suffocating.
Jaehyun listens attentively, considers your inputs, and offers his own without steamrolling over yours. It's honestly refreshing.
"So, I guess this is it, then." you say, nodding in satisfaction once the final topic is settled. Jaehyun mirrors your nod, a small grin playing at his lips. "Didn't peg Miss Popular as the type to actually lock in when it comes to assignments." he teases.
You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "Excuse you, I take my academic life very seriously."
"Oh yeah?" He tilts his head. "So if I check your screen time right now, I won't find an ungodly number of hours spent on tiktok and Instagram?"
"First of all...." you say, pointing a finger at him. "That's classified information. Second of all, it's kind of like my job at this point."
Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. "Right, right. Job."
You roll your eyes but can't help but chuckle along.
"Anyways..." he leans back in his chair. "How'd you even get into this whole content creation thing?"
You know you should probably steer the conversation back to the assignment, but honestly? You don't mind. Jaehyun seems reliable enough, and besides, a little break never hurt anyone.
"Well...." you start, a little sheepishly, "I was a Vine kid." you say but before you can continue Jaehyun's eyes widen in an instant. "Wait, Vine? As in, six-second goldmine Vine? The superior app?"
"You know about Vine too ?!??!" You gasp, placing a hand over your heart again. "Oh my god. I thought I was alone in this cruel world."
Jaehyun scoffs. "Are you kidding? I lived on that app. To this day, I still quote Vines like it's a second language."
"No, because same." You lean forward, suddenly excited. "Like, I can't go one day without referencing 'It is Wednesday, my dudes—'"
Jaehyun, without missing a beat, throws his head back and screams. "AAAAAAAAH."
(A/N: SORRY GUYSFGJERHG, I WAS A VINE KID—I JUST HAAAD TOOOO. anyways, if you don't get the reference, check this link out hehe)
You burst out laughing, slamming your hand on your desk. "Oh my god. A fellow Vine scholar."
"Finally." he sighs dramatically. "Someone who understands."
You shake your head, still chuckling. "But yeah, I used to make Vines of my own too—though we are not going to talk about that." You cringe at the memory, suppressing a shudder. "So that's where my whole content creation passion came from. Except now, my content is more... I don't know, just stuff I actually enjoy doing." You shrug, and Jaehyun nods in understanding.
"I follow you on tiktok, by the way." He grins, tilting his head slightly. "And I gotta say, your content's pretty fire."
"Oh, really?" You smirk, narrowing your eyes playfully. "Then tell me—what eyeshadow palette did I review in my last video?" You cross your arms, arching a brow because you know damn well your content isn't exactly tailored for a guy like Jaehyun. But teasing him is too tempting to resist.
Jaehyun groans, throwing his head back. "Hey, come on, don't do me like that." he protests, laughing. "I was talking about your other stuff—like your random vlogs, your outfit checks, oh, um—your little roommate series."
"Ah, yes." You nod. "The roommate series' main star was the poor soul you saw in the living room earlier." You giggle, thinking of Jungkook's stiff face every time your camera is in his personal space. "He's my little unpaid intern." You grin, and Jaehyun laughs along.
"Yeah, I noticed. He's on your page a lot." Jaehyun muses, eyes narrowing slightly like he's piecing something together. "I've been wondering though... How do you even convince him to join in? He seems like the... shy type."
You giggle, leaning back into your chair. "Oh, he is shy—painfully so. But..." your voice softens, "He's also the sweetest person you'll ever meet. Never complains. Even when I make him do the dumbest skits, he just goes along with it." A fond smile tugs at your lips.
Before Jaehyun can respond, his phone buzzes. He checks it quickly, before letting out a breath. "Ah, looks like I gotta head out." he says and you nod understandingly. He stands and you follow suit as he slings his backpack over his shoulder in one fluid motion. "Cool, we'll see each other again..." you start.
"Day after tomorrow." Jaehyun finishes with a small smile, and you nod.
"Right. See you then." And with that, he walks out.
Once the door clicks shut behind Jaehyun, you linger for a moment before stepping further into the living room and your gaze naturally falls on the oversized rubik's cube, still half-solved on the coffee table and you wonder what Jungkook's up to right now.
And just then, it's the soft, rapid staccato of mouse and keyboard clicks that draws your attention, so you make your way towards Jungkook's room and as expected, he's there— perched at his desk, headset on, eyes locked onto the screen, fingers moving furiously as he navigates through his Minecraft world.
You inch closer. "Hey." you call, giving his shoulder a gentle poke. Jungkook jumps slightly, wide eyes snapping to you as he hurriedly pulls off his headset. "Oh—hey." he breathes out, his voice tinged with the faintest trace of surprise.
His eyes flicker past you, towards the door, and for a brief moment he wonders if Jaehyun's gone. You don't notice it, but Jungkook's chest eases a little when he realizes the guy's probably left.
He won't admit it out aloud, but the only reason he'd abandoned his rubik's cube and holed himself up in his room with the volume cranked up on his game, was to drown out the sound of your laughter echoing from behind the closed door of your bedroom.
He'd told himself not to think too much about it, but the longer he sat there, the more the warmth in your voice with Jaehyun grated against something he couldn't quite name. So, he'd escaped, to blocks and biomes, anything to block it out.
"What do you want for dinner?" you ask. "I was thinking... ramen?"
"Ramen... yeah, ramen sounds good." He nods, already starting to push himself up from his chair, ready to help. But you wave him off with a soft laugh. "Hey, I've got this. You can keep playing. I'll handle the ramen." you assure him, already turning towards the door to leave.
Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, because he always wants to help out, but you're gone before he can.
He stays there, watching the spot where you stood for a beat longer than he needs to, before sinking back into his chair. The Minecraft screen flickers at him, but his focus is elsewhere as his fingers hover over the keys.
That gut feeling... the one that first crept in when Jaehyun walked through the door, still stubbornly sits heavy in his chest. But Jungkook exhales, shaking his head as if to clear it. It's not that deep.
He's just an assignment partner, after all.
Right?
Days drift by, and Jaehyun's visits have grown more frequent—so frequent that his presence has begun to settle into the corners of your shared apartment like it belongs there.
Jungkook has started to notice things—small, seemingly insignificant at first, but they begin to pile up like pebbles forming a mountain he can't ignore.
It's hard to miss how comfortable you've grown with Jaehyun. There's an ease to the way your laughter bubbles up at his jokes, the way your hand instinctively swats at his arm or chest when he teases you. It's playful—sure—but it leaves Jungkook with a faint, inexplicable unease.
He tries to brush it off. He really does.
Most days, he sees you both working, heads bent together over your laptops, furrowed brows, quiet discussions filling the living room or your bedroom. There's a seriousness to the project that he can't deny, especially in you because Jungkook knows how dedicated you are when it comes to assignments and projects.
But even then, Jaehyun has a way of slipping in like tossing a joke here or a teasing comment there and suddenly, the air visibly shifts. The work pauses and laughter spills out.
And then there are moments—moments like yesterday—that cling to Jungkook's memory like a thorn.
He had walked in to see Jaehyun playfully locking you in a loose headlock while you laughed, elbowing him in the stomach to break free, but the sight lodged itself in Jungkook's chest like a stone.
It was harmless, he told himself. Just friends messing around. But it was the details that lingered—the way Jaehyun's grin stretched wide, the way your laughter rang unrestrained, the way you leaned into his touch instead of pulling away. The way you didn't seem to mind him being so close.
And then there's the other thing. The part that unsettles Jungkook the most.
The look.
Every time Jaehyun is over, he throws a look at Jungkook and he instantly catches it. A look, which is fleeting but definitely intentional. The kind that seems casual on the surface but holds an undercurrent of something else. Something off.
It's not an open challenge, not exactly. Nor is it the the casual acknowledgment guys sometimes exchange to break the ice. It's subtler, more calculated... like Jaehyun's sizing him up, or worse, like he already knows something Jungkook doesn't.
It's the kind of look that worms under his skin.
The kind that feels like someone is quietly staking a claim on something you thought was yours.
And Jungkook hates it. He hates the way it's taking root inside him, how it makes his chest tighten and his jaw clench. He hates that he cares this much. That he even feels like he has something to lose.
But no matter how much he tries to rationalize it, how many times he tells himself he's imagining it... that gut feeling, that unrelenting instinct—remains.
Something about Jaehyun just doesn't sit right.
Right now, Jungkook remains perched on the edge of the kitchen island, one hand resting on the cool surface while the other hovers over his laptop's trackpad. He's trying—really trying—to stay focused on the test flashing across his screen, some tedious but necessary module assessment that's part of his course requirements.
But he can hear your voice, and Jaehyun's, drifting from your room nearby like an unwelcome undercurrent. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to drown it out. He knows it's nothing, knows that you're just working on your project. But the sound gets under his skin anyway.
A few minutes pass before he hears the creak of your door opening, followed by footsteps padding down the hallway. Within seconds, Jaehyun appears—tall frame moving with that easy confidence that's begun to grate on Jungkook's nerves. His eyes sweep the room lazily before landing on Jungkook.
"Sup, dude?" Jaehyun greets, casual, almost dismissive, and there's something in the way his gaze flicks over Jungkook that feels vaguely patronizing. Like he's acknowledging him out of obligation, not respect. Like he's the one who lives here and Jungkook's the guest.
Jungkook forces a nod in acknowledgment, fingers tightening around his laptop. Without waiting for a response, Jaehyun strolls past him, straight to the fridge. "Just grabbing some water." he mutters over his shoulder—like he's entitled to whatever's in there.
Jungkook says nothing, eyes flicking back to his screen. He taps his keyboard, more out of habit than intent, willing himself to tune it all out.
The cap of the water bottle twists open with a soft crack, followed by the sound of Jaehyun taking a long sip. Then he moves closer... almost too close, positioning himself beside the island, his body leaning in ever so slightly as he peers at Jungkook's screen.
"What you up to, man?" he asks, voice still light but carrying that underlying tone, like he already knows whatever Jungkook's doing is probably boring. Probably beneath him.
Jungkook stiffens, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He can feel Jaehyun's eyes trailing over his laptop screen, taking in the lines of code and multiple-choice questions.
"It's just a test. Course requirement." Jungkook mutters, trying to keep his voice neutral.
"Ahhh... you're a computer science major, right?" His tone is laced with curiosity, but not the genuine kind. It's the kind that holds the faintest trace of mockery. The kind that makes you feel like you need to justify yourself.
Jungkook nods, curtly. "Yeah."
Jaehyun lets out a low, drawn-out whistle, followed by a chuckle. "Damn. Computer science, huh? That's... intense." He laughs before taking another sip of his water, the bottle crinkling slightly under his grip. "Must be tough. All those... codes and... what? Algorithms?" He gestures lazily towards the screen, eyes narrowing.
Jungkook doesn't like the way he says it—like it's a joke, like it's something trivial. Like Jungkook's effort is something to be amused by. "Yeah. Algorithms." he mutters, trying to sound unaffected, though he can feel his patience thinning.
Jaehyun leans in a little, his shadow creeping over the laptop screen. He squints at the test, eyes skimming over the technical jargon as though he's deciphering it, though Jungkook doubts he understands much of it.
"Man... that looks brutal. Don't know how you guys do it. I'd probably lose my mind staring at that stuff all day." He laughs, but it's laced with something condescending, like he's making it clear that he wouldn't waste his time on something so tedious.
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek.
"Guess you gotta be built different for that whole... nerd life, huh?" Jaehyun adds, smirking as he takes another sip.
Jungkook forces a tight smile, but his fingers tighten against the edge of his laptop. He feels the implication of it—the way Jaehyun's not just making conversation. He's dissecting him. Testing him. Seeing what gets a reaction. Measuring him up like he's weighing his worth and already finding him lacking.
Jungkook breathes slowly through his nose, fighting the urge to snap back. He's not going to give Jaehyun that satisfaction. Instead, he shifts slightly in his seat, subtly angling his screen away.
"Yeah." he says flatly. "Guess you do."
Jaehyun lingers a moment longer, like he's waiting for more—like he's hoping for a crack to show. But when none comes, he finally steps back, draining the rest of his water.
"Respect, man. Couldn't be me." He the proceeds to clap Jungkook on the shoulder—harder than necessary, his hand lingering for just a second too long before he pulls away. There's something weird about the gesture, like he's asserting dominance.
Then he steps back, water bottle still in hand, eyes sweeping over Jungkook one last time like he's taking stock—cataloging him, filing him away under less than. Like he's already decided he's better.
"You keep doing your thing, though." Jaehyun adds, voice dripping with false encouragement. "The nerd life's gotta pay off someday, right?" He laughs, turning on his heel, and before Jungkook can respond, he's already strolling back towards your room.
Jungkook stares at his laptop screen, but the words blur into a mess of symbols and frustration. His chest tightens with a mix of anger and something closer to humiliation.
Jaehyun knew exactly what he was doing.
And it worked.
Jungkook forces himself to return his focus to the screen. There's no reason—no logical reason—why he should let a guy like Jaehyun get under his skin and make him feel bad about himself—his major, his choices, or anything else for that matter.
He knows exactly the kind of guy Jaehyun is.
The kind who carries himself like he's untouchable, like he's a step ahead of everyone else. The kind who doesn't even have to say it outright to make you feel like you're somehow beneath him.
Guys like Jaehyun think they're on another level... effortlessly charismatic, naturally better, always in control. And maybe, for the most part, they are. But Jungkook refuses to be another person who feeds into that delusion.
So he brushes it off, squares his shoulders, tightens his grip on his laptop, and forces his attention back to his test.
Nearly half an hour passes.
He's managed to focus, even if it took effort, even if his brain kept replaying snippets of the earlier conversation in the background. But then, the sound of your bedroom door opening breaks his concentration again.
This time, it's you walking out first, your laptop tucked under one arm. Jaehyun follows a few seconds later, slinging his backpack over one shoulder with the ease of someone who doesn't have a single worry in the world.
"So, now that we have enough data collected on consumer spending trends across different income brackets, we should start working on the outline of the paper by next week." you say, your voice casual but firm as you lead Jaehyun towards the door.
Jungkook glances up just in time to catch the usual faint smirk Jaehyun throws his way. The same smug, knowing look that makes his skin prickle. Still, as usual, Jungkook ignores it, his fingers tightening against the laptop's edge as he looks back at his screen.
As you reach the doorway, Jaehyun continues to nod at your words. "Cool." he mumbles, proceeding to slip into his shoes. He straightens up as his fingers adjust the strap of his backpack.
He turns around, ready to leave, but suddenly, his hand reaches for the doorknob but stops midway, and you, noticing the pause, tilt your head slightly in question. "Everything good, Jae?" you ask.
Jaehyun turns around, a sheepish smile creeping onto his lips, like something just occurred to him. "Oh, um..." He rubs the back of his neck, playing it off casually. "I was just wondering... it's pretty late, so do you maybe wanna grab dinner together?"
Jungkook, still perched at the kitchen island, picks up on the sudden question instantly and his fingers halt over the keyboard. His back stiffens but his eyes remain fixed on the screen as he waits for you to respond.
"Dinner?" You echo, blinking as though you need a second to let it register. "Oh... yeah, dinner sounds good." you say with a small nod.
Jaehyun's lips twitch into a subtle grin—an almost imperceptible curve of victory, like he's already claimed what he was after. But before he can solidify his win, before he can turn that small triumph into something more, you cut through it with your gentle, unaffected voice.
"Let me ask Kook to join us too!" you chirp, turning back towards the living room without a second thought. "Wouldn't want him to cook alone, you know?"
Jaehyun freezes for half a beat, blinking as the easy confidence slips just slightly from his face. That? That was not what he had in mind.
He was envisioning something different... just the two of you, a quiet dinner where he could lean in close and talk, make you laugh, maybe inch his way into something more. What he wasn't expecting was for you to bring your nerdy roommate along.
Jungkook, from his place in the apartment, hears the shuffle of your feet as you approach him, and he already knows what's coming. He knows you so well. Knew you'd never leave him behind.
For a moment, he lets himself exhale, the knot that had been coiling in his chest loosening just a little. He had braced himself for the possibility of you heading out alone with Jaehyun, braced for the discomfort, the overthinking that would haunt him for the rest of the night.
But you, being you, the sweet angel that you are, would obviously never leave him behind. And that thought, even if it's just for dinner, makes him feel all giddy.
He can already picture the mild irritation on Jaehyun's face. The guy's probably seething behind that polite mask, regretting ever asking in the first place. That thought alone tugs a subtle smirk onto Jungkook's lips... small and barely noticeable, but it's still there nonetheless.
"Kook, me and Jaehyun are going to grab dinner. Wanna come with?" You say it so casually, so sweetly, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like his presence would only make the evening better.
So, who the hell is he to say no to that? Not when you're looking at him like that—eyes sparkling like stardust, lips curled into that soft, pretty smile that feels like it was made just for him. Like you hung the moon without even trying.
And sure, on any other night, he'd probably hate the thought of sitting through a meal with a stranger, especially someone like Jaehyun, but tonight? Tonight, he wants nothing more than to tag along and be there.
Even if it means enduring Jaehyun's smugness. Even if it means biting his tongue until his jaw aches. Even if it means sitting through forced conversations and subtle digs, pretending not to notice the way Jaehyun acts like he's beneath him or whatever.
Because in the end, being there with you, will always outweigh all of that.
Jaehyun clenches his fists at his sides, as he struggles to maintain the polite, easy-going smile he's perfected over time. It's taking every ounce of self-restraint not to let his irritation seep through as he watches you animatedly chatter about some random show, while your arm remains casually looped around Jungkook's.
Not only does he have to tolerate the presence of this insufferable nerd, but he also has to witness the two of you nestled so comfortably together? This was definitely not the kind of evening he was looking forward to.
Jungkook, on the other hand, barely registers Jaehyun's existence anymore.
He's too caught up in you—smiling to himself as he listens to your endless rambling, the kind that always veers off into tangents, hopping from plot twists to character arcs, and somehow looping back to an inside joke only the two of you understand.
He's so absorbed, so content, that he's forgotten Jaehyun is even trailing along beside you.
"Oh! There's the diner!" you suddenly exclaim, your eyes lighting up as you point towards the familiar spot, the little place you and Jungkook have frequented on countless lazy nights when cooking felt like too much work.
"Let's go." Jaehyun forces out with a nod, plastering on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He trails behind as you tug Jungkook forward, still holding onto his arm, leaving Jaehyun feeling like the third wheel he never expected to be.
When you step into the diner, you and Jungkook instinctively drift towards your usual table by the window, the one that's practically become yours over time and Jaehyun trails behind, his eyes briefly scanning the place before settling on the two of you.
"You guys get comfortable—I'll go place the order." you chime, your voice light with excitement as Jungkook nods, taking a seat. "Me and Kook are getting our usual burgers... what about you, Jaehyun?" you ask, your smile bright.
Jaehyun shifts in his seat, lowering himself across from Jungkook. "Oh... yeah, I guess I'll have the burger too." he replies, attempting casualness. "Perfect!" you beam, giving a little thumbs-up before turning on your heel and heading towards the counter.
Jungkook and Jaehyun sit face to face, the absence of your warmth leaving a tangible void between them, like the air itself cools the second you step away.
Jungkook has never been good at eye contact; it's always made him feel exposed, like someone could see right through him. But this time, he forces himself to hold Jaehyun's gaze. It's not confidence, it's defiance.
A quiet, stubborn refusal to let Jaehyun think he holds any power here. That his presence, his smirks, his calculated little victories, could ever rattle him.
Jaehyun leans back slightly, arms crossing over his chest, eyes narrowing just the faintest bit. He lets out a breathy scoff and neither of them say a word, but the tension hums louder than any conversation could.
Their eyes lock like two opposing forces testing the limits of the space they share. It's almost childish, this silent standoff, but they're both not willing to be the first to look away. It's as though they're shooting invisible lasers through their pupils, measuring each other in the quietest, most passive-aggressive battle known to man.
"Here we go..." you sing-song, balancing a tray with three burgers and a generous side of fries as you make your way back to the table. You're blissfully unaware of the silent warzone you're about to walk into.
Both Jungkook and Jaehyun immediately snap out of their intense, wordless staring contest, their gazes shifting to you with something alarmingly close to desperation. The air between them, once brimming with unspoken rivalry, pauses, suspended by a single, all-important question.
Where are you going to sit?
There's an empty spot beside each of them, and for a brief second, they're both holding their breaths, like their entire evening depends on this one moment. It's ridiculous, really, two grown men waiting like nervous schoolboys to see which side you'll choose, as though your choice is about to crown the evening's winner.
You place the tray on the table, eyes flitting between the two empty seats as if you're carefully weighing your options.
Truthfully, you're not.
Your phone’s battery is barely hanging on, and the seat beside Jaehyun just so happens to be the closest to the charging socket—that’s all there is to it.
You need your phone to keep up with your little ritual of posting an Instagram story of your meal, something you’ve done every time you visit this diner. And since you forgot to bring your power bank, the charging socket is your only saving grace.
So when you step towards the chair next to Jaehyun, he shifts slightly, trying to mask his triumph under the guise of casual nonchalance.
He raises a hand to his mouth, rubbing at his jaw and the subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who, watches the scene unfold from across the table, already mentally preparing himself for an evening of internal suffering.
But when you pull out the chair—you pause.
Your nose scrunches, eyes narrowing as you spot a faint, dried-up glob of what looks suspiciously like mayo crusted onto the edge of the seat. It's small, barely noticeable, but enough to make you grimace.
"Hey, Jae... would you mind shifting there?" you question, pointing to the seat next to Jungkook.
Both men freeze.
Jaehyun's smirk drops so fast it's almost audible, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief while Jungkook's brows flick upwards in surprise, mouth parting slightly before he schools his face back into something neutral, though the barely-there twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him.
This... this was not the outcome either of them had prepared for, but it's safe to say Jungkook's partly satisfied.
Jaehyun however, hesitates, like he's considering protesting, but you quickly flash him that sheepish, apologetic grin, the one that makes it impossible to say no to you. "I'm so sorry... This seat's a little dirty plus I really need to charge my phone, and the socket's right here." you explain, pointing to the outlet on the wall.
Jaehyun forces out a tight smile. "Yeah, of course... No problem." he says, standing up to move to the other seat, landing next to Jungkook with the enthusiasm of someone being sentenced to life in prison.
You flash him a sweet, oblivious smile before finally settling into the seat and plugging in your charger with a small, satisfied hum.
Soon enough, the meal is underway. Conversation flows easily—well, mostly between you and Jaehyun. The two of you chat about random classes and how brutal last week's quiz was, nothing too deep, but enough to make Jungkook feel like a third wheel at a study date he never agreed to.
He picks at his fries, half-listening, half-zoning out, until suddenly, you burst into laughter—loud and unfiltered, the kind that makes your eyes squeeze shut and your hand fly up to cover your mouth and it jolts Jungkook back into the present.
His gaze flicks to you instantly because when you laugh like that, everything else just fades. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes crinkled at the corners, that light, breathless giggle spilling out like music.
And dammit, Jaehyun, out of all people, is the one who made you laugh and somehow, that realization makes Jungkook bites into his burger a little too aggressive, like it personally offended him.
"No, but seriously..." Jaehyun continues, fighting back his own laughter. "First week of college, right? I'm at this super boring seminar. Room's packed. Everyone's dead silent and the professor's giving this whole speech about the meaning of existence or whatever—like, proper 'stare into the void' kinda stuff."
Jungkook has no idea where this is going, and even though he doesn't particularly want to care, he still listens. Because, seriously, what could possibly be so funny?
"But I was bored out of my mind, right? So, I sneak out my phone—'cause obviously, I'd rather watch something on my phone than spiral into an existential crisis." Jaehyun says and you giggle, nodding along, fully invested.
"But guess what? My phone's on full volume. And out of nowhere—like, cutting through all this profound silence, it goes: 'HURRICANE KATRINA? MORE LIKE HURRICANE TORTILLA!'"
(vine reference link)
You absolutely lose it, slapping the table as laughter erupts from you. "STOP—NOT HURRICANE TORTILLA—" you wheeze, clutching your stomach.
Jungkook pauses mid-chew, eyes narrowing slightly as he wonders what the hell is a... hurricane tortilla? He glances between you two, trying to decode what exactly has you guys dying.
Jaehyun keeps going. "The professor stops talking and the whole room just goes... dead silent and everyone's looking at me like I just committed a crime while I'm just sitting there like—'welp, guess I'll drop out.'"
"I—oh my god—I can't—'hurricane tortilla'—I'm actually cryinggg." you gasp between fits of laughter, wiping at the tears gathering in your eyes. Jungkook just blinks, utterly lost. He leans in slightly, brows furrowed. "...What's a hurricane tortilla?"
Jaehyun's head snaps towards him, eyes widening with exaggerated disbelief. "No way. You're joking, right?" He lets out a sharp laugh, dripping with condescension. "Y/n, you're telling me you live with this uncultured man who doesn't know what a hurricane tortilla is?"
You don't dignify Jaehyun's snide remark with a response. Instead, you turn to Jungkook with a soft smile, the kind that instantly disarms him. Your eyes hold nothing but warmth, no trace of ridicule.
You know he doesn't keep up with this kind of stuff, and that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of.
"Oh, Kook." you murmur. "It's just a vine. Remember? Those short, funny videos I showed you? Like six seconds long?"
Jungkook's expression softens as the memory washes over him. Of course, he remembers.
That afternoon on the couch, when you had excitedly told him you wanted to show him some "vines". Truthfully, he hadn't really gotten most of them. Some flew right over his head, and he barely found them funny. But he'd never admit it aloud because, honestly, it was never about the vines.
It was about you. The way you had curled up beside him, so close that your shoulder pressed into his while your bright laughter spilled freely, like music that played just for him. The way you'd nudge him with your elbow whenever you found something extremely funny, your pretty eyes crinkling with joy as if inviting him to share in that happiness.
He remembers how his heart raced more from the warmth of your thigh brushing against his than from anything on the screen. How every time you leaned in, laughing so hard you could barely breathe, felt like he could drown completely in the sound of it and never come up for air.
And most of all, he remembers how he didn't want it to end.
How he could've stayed there, just like that, for hours—watching videos that barely made any sense to him, but that's okay, because getting to hear you laugh like that was all that truly mattered.
"Yeah... I remember." he says after a beat, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah so, the hurricane tortilla thing? It's just from one of those." you explain, still sweet, still patient, like you're always willing to meet him where he's at.
Eventually, you all wrap up at the diner and step out. The tension between Jungkook and Jaehyun still remains unnoticed by you while they exchange subtle glares, every few minutes, each one laced with unspoken rivalry.
"So, I guess we'll head back now." you say, standing on the pavement with your hands inside your pockets, protecting yourself from the night breeze. Jaehyun gives Jungkook one last look, a brief, pointed glance that's more challenge than farewell, before turning to you with a smile.
And then, without warning, he steps forward, arms looping around you in an embrace. It catches you off guard, but you don't hesitate to return the hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders with ease, though there's a flicker of surprise in your eyes.
Jungkook, on the other hand, stiffens. His jaw tightens, fists curling at his sides as he watches Jaehyun's arms settle a little too comfortably around your waist. It's not just the hug that gets to him—it's the way Jaehyun looks at him over your shoulder, a smug, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Like he's winning.
And maybe he is. At least, that's what it feels like to Jungkook in that moment.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow." Jaehyun breathes out as he pulls away, his hand lingering a second too long on your waist. You nod, smiling, completely unaware of the silent battle that's just taken place right behind your back.
"See you around, dude." Jaehyun adds, tossing Jungkook a dismissive nod before turning on his heel and strolling away with all the confidence of someone who thinks he's just claimed victory.
Jungkook exhales slowly, forcing his fists to uncurl at his sides, trying to tame the little green goblin of jealousy that a single hug has so effortlessly stirred to life.
"Let's go, Kook?" Your gentle voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He blinks, looking at you, your eyes bright under the streetlights and his silly little heart stumbles over itself as usual. "I—uhh... yeah. Of course." he stammers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
The night air is cool, wrapping around you in a gentle breeze as the streets hum with distant traffic. Neon shop signs flicker, casting fleeting shades of color onto the pavement as you and Jungkook walk side by side.
You let out a satisfied hum, rubbing a hand over your stomach. "I swear, I'm never getting tired of that diner." you giggle, and Jungkook glances at you, the corners of his lips curling up. "I think at this point, they should just name a booth after you." he teases.
You gasp dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "That would be the dream, honestly. But it's not just me, you know? You've been there as much as I have. So I guess we both deserve a picture on the wall that says Most Loyal Customers of the Decade."
Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head. "That would be nice, I guess." he says sheepishly.
A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment before you stretch your arms over your head. "Honestly, I'm glad I was able to make Jae try it out." you add casually, glancing at Jungkook and he nods, but his smile dims just slightly.
Maybe it's the way Jaehyun has so easily made his way into this conversation, or maybe it's the casual way you use his nickname... whatever it is, it makes Jungkook's stomach churn in a way he doesn't particularly like.
Plus, the uneasy thoughts have been there for a while, lurking in the back of his mind, but he's always pushed it away. Tonight, though, it feels impossible to ignore. He suddenly wants to know what you really think about Jaehyun—wants to know if you see what he sees or if you're just oblivious to the way Jaehyun acts around you or the way he acts around Jungkook.
Jungkook exhales quietly, debating whether he should even say anything. But before he can stop himself, the words slip out. "So this... Jaehyun guy..." he starts, voice careful, like he's weighing each word before releasing it. You glance at him, curious. "Yeah?"
Jungkook hesitates for a second too long, his gaze fixed ahead as if avoiding your eyes will make this easier. "You guys have gotten pretty close lately." he says, trying to keep his tone neutral.
"Oh, yeah..." You nod, swaying slightly as you walk. "Ever since we became partners for that assignment, we've been hanging out a lot. I mean, it's not anything too deep. It's just... our vibes match, you know?"
Vibes match.
Jungkook draws in a long inhale, his fists tightening inside his pockets. He wonders if his vibe has ever matched yours. You've lived together for so long... have spent late nights talking on the couch, have shared countless meals, have fallen into a rhythm so natural it almost feels like breathing.
But have you ever thought about it like that? Have you ever thought your vibes batch? Yours and His?
You're everything he's not and if Jaehyun's vibe matches yours, then where exactly does that leave Jungkook?
"He's funny." you continue, lips curving into a small smile. "And he gets my humor."
Jungkook hums at that, but the sound comes out a little sharper than he intended. He knows Jaehyun makes you laugh, he's seen it firsthand. Loud, breathless laughter that makes your eyes crinkle, the kind that shakes your whole body.
"But..." Jungkook exhales slowly, trying to sound casual even though the words feel like they're getting stuck on the way out. "I mean... I've noticed he's gotten really... comfortable around you."
He doesn't even know where he's going with this. He just knows it's been bothering him, gnawing at him like an itch he can't scratch. You blink, tilting your head. "What do you mean?"
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, feeling utterly, painfully awkward. He wants to drop it, but at the same time, he doesn't.
"Like... like how he is at the apartment." he says, forcing the words out. "He just... makes himself at home. Like, he sits on the couch like it's his. He raids the fridge. He—" Jungkook stops himself, brows furrowing. "He acts like he lives there."
You let out a soft laugh, but not in a way that makes him feel dismissed. "Ah, yeah, that's just how he is." you say with a small shrug. Jungkook presses his lips together, the unease still sitting heavy in his chest.
"But what's wrong?" you ask, your voice gentler now, sensing there's more to this than what he's saying. "Does he make you uncomfortable?" You tilt your head, genuine concern etched in your features.
"No... um, no, nothing like that." he denies way too quickly. "I was just wondering if you're comfortable with how he is." He turns it back on you. You smile at that. "Oh, Kook, were you worried about me?" you tease, nudging him playfully.
"Yeah... you... you could say that." His ears burn, and he wishes his mouth would just shut up. "I was just wondering about your dynamic, that's all." he adds, trying to sound nonchalant and you blink at him, amused.
"Our dynamic?"
Jungkook nods stiffly.
"Like I said, our vibes match." you repeat. "But again, he's just my assignment partner, you know? He's nice to work with and joke around with."
Jungkook nods along, forcing himself to absorb your words, to let them settle the gnawing feeling inside him.
"But if he makes you uncomfortable at the apartment, then I can just go to his place for the assignment, you know? He did ask me to—"
"No !!" Jungkook blurts, way too fast, way too loud and your eyes widen for a brief second.
God, that would be worse. Having you go to Jaehyun's place, where Jungkook wouldn't be around, where he wouldn't know what was happening—where Jaehyun would have the liberty to do anything. That's not even the last thing Jungkook wants.
"No... I meant, he doesn't make me uncomfortable. So please..." He exhales shakily. "Please continue working at our apartment." He doesn't even try to hide the urgency in his voice making you laugh. "Okay, okay." you say, nodding your head. "But do tell me if you're uncomfortable, alright?"
Jungkook nods, lips pressing into a thin line as he watches you.
You don't see it, don't see the way Jaehyun looks at you, don't see the way he treats Jungkook like an afterthought.
Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he's just overthinking. Maybe he's just being paranoid, reading too much into things that don't mean anything. Maybe it's all in his head. But the irritating, tormenting feeling remains like a dull, nagging weight in his chest that refuses to settle
It feels like something is lodged between his ribs, pressing against his lungs, making every breath feel just a little too tight.
Yet, he exhales slowly, shuts his eyes, and tells himself to let it go, to swallow all the weird thoughts and bury them somewhere they can’t reach him.
Jaehyun's just an assignment partner.
Nothing more. Nothing deep.
part 2 -> (coming soon)
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strawberry danishes | joaquin torres x fem!reader
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Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquin Torres has a crush on the cute girl that comes to the coffee shop he frequents. Little does he know, you've been crushing on him too. He's never regretted eating a strawberry danish more than the day you finally come up to him and start a conversation. Warnings: TW for food/coffee etc. Word Count: 2.7k A/N: I saw Captain America: Brave New World last Friday and honestly I spent the entire time staring at Joaquin. I've loved him since TFATWS but I loved seeing more of him in this movie and I immediately wanted to write for him after but I was away for the weekend without my laptop, so literally as soon as I was home I knew I needed to start working on something for him. This was inspired by the song Coffee Cake by Benson Boone. I really hope you enjoy and please let me know if you guys want me to write more for Joaquin!
Joaquin Torres knew your coffee order before he even knew your name.
It wasn’t in a creepy way – he wasn’t stalking you or anything. The two of you just happened to frequent the same coffee shop. Whenever Joaquin was home, he had a routine of stopping by a local cafe by the park near his apartment for a coffee and a pastry after his morning run. The small cafe obviously had a place in your morning routine too.
The first time he saw you he couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you were, and it wasn’t just the fact that the sun was shining through the window beside you, coating you in the warm, golden light. He was a fairly confident person but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to approach you that day and talk to you.
He told himself that he’d do it the next time he saw you, but the next time you were in and out of the cafe so quickly he barely even saw you from his spot across the room, his mouth full of a bite of blueberry danish.
Then, work called him away and he was gone for weeks. Any time he made himself a coffee over the next few weeks, he thought of you. He was fully aware that it was probably incredibly creepy of him to be doing so – he didn’t know the first thing about you, and you had no idea who he was – but he had a crush. He had to admit that to himself.
When he was back home, he looked forward to his morning coffee more than anything simply because of the chance that he might see you. Luck happened to be in his favour, too, as when he walked in and joined the line to order, you had lined up behind him. He had no idea, of course, until he’d ordered and stepped off to the side. The poor boy had almost choked on air itself when he turned to see you ordering after him.
“Just an iced chocolate to-go, please,” you said.
It was the first time Joaquin had heard your voice and he was pretty certain that it was the actual sound of angels coming down from the heavens. He had to force himself to look away from you so he didn’t get caught staring. He was so stuck in his own head, focused on your beauty, that he didn’t even hear the barista calling his name and order out for collection.
He felt a slight tap on his shoulder and looked down to see you looking up at him.
“Hey,” Joaquin managed, his voice a little breathless. Oh, this was so embarrassing. The first thing he can think to say to you when you initiate a conversation with him and it’s hey?
You pointed towards the counter. “I think that’s your order. The barista keeps looking at you when he’s calling out Joaquin.”
Joaquin cleared his throat. “Oh, right. Thanks.” He chuckled awkwardly and moved to grab his coffee, planning to turn around afterwards and introduce himself properly. By the way, the name is Torres. Joaquin Torres. And what would your name be? Something beautiful, I’m sure.
It was probably for the best that by the time he turned around – oblivious to the death stare the barista was giving him, irritated at having to shout his name out multiple times – you had moved across the room to take a seat at a table by the window. Now it would just look weird if he was to walk all the way over to you and introduce himself. You’d excused yourself from the conversation.
Disappointed, Joaquin took a sip of his coffee and forced himself out of the cafe, berating himself in his thoughts the whole way. It was only when he’d gotten back to his apartment that he realised he’d left behind the pastry that he’d ordered alongside his coffee.
More time passed and Joaquin had been working so often he hadn’t had any time to get back to the cafe. He started to wonder if possibly this was all just nothing more than a silly crush on a passer-by. That maybe, you weren’t destined to say anything more than the words that you’d shared at the cafe that day a month ago.
Joaquin wasn’t going to stop going by his favourite cafe though. If you spoke to him, of course he’d speak back to you. But he wasn’t going to go out of his way to talk to someone that clearly wasn’t as interested in him as he was in you, judging on your past interaction.
He settled down at a table by the window, placing the plate containing his strawberry danish down in front of him. It wasn’t long before the staff brought over the coffee he’d ordered and he could dig into his danish without being interrupted. He’d missed these mornings while he’d been working. There wasn’t much else that filled him quite like the peace he had when he was in the cafe.
He wasn’t watching the door when you walked into the cafe and went to order. He was too preoccupied with his danish, taking a rather large bite of it and almost moaning at the taste of it. There was nothing as good as a danish from this place, he was sure of it.
He was still too busy eating the danish to notice you walking over to his table, a plate of your own in your hands. It was only when he noticed someone stood beside the table that he looked up, swallowing the mouthful of danish – and luckily not choking on it as his eyes settled on you. He’d assumed it might have been another member of staff, maybe they’d given him the wrong coffee, but he had not expected you.
“You’re in my seat,” you said simply, looking down at the man and trying so hardly not to smile at the sight of him, sitting there looking up at you with wide eyes and sugar all around his mouth and even on the tip of his nose.
Joaquin was lost for words and it took him a moment to find something to say. “You can sit here! I didn’t realise this was your seat. Do you want me to move? Hang on, let me just get this sugar off my hands and I’ll–”
“Hey, it’s fine. Really,” you smiled, pulling the chair out on the opposite side of the table and moving to sit down “You can stay here. Actually, I’ve kind of been waiting to have an excuse to talk to you, so thanks for sitting in my seat. Joaquin, right?”
He stared at you for a moment. “How do you know my name?” He didn’t even know your name, so how was it possible that you knew his? Unless you’d asked the barista about him… wait… you’d been waiting for an excuse to talk to him? Was his brain short circuiting? Was he dreaming? Surely he was dreaming. Under the table, he pinched the skin of his arm between his fingers… nope… not dreaming…
“Last time I saw you in here, you were spacing out and the barista was calling your name. I had to tell you that your order was being called,” you said, a little sheepishly. “I guess you don’t remember that.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… he was cute, sure, but if he didn’t remember that, he clearly wasn’t as interested in you as you were in him.
Recognition sparked in Joaquin’s mind. “Oh, I do remember that! I wasn’t spacing out, I was just distracted by y– by something.” Admitting he was distracted by you was probably not the best way to start your first proper conversation. “But that makes sense now. I don’t know your name, though. I guess you listen more carefully when they call your order out.”
“I try my best,” you admitted, before introducing yourself to him properly. It was hard not to admit the fact that Joaquin was probably the cutest guy you’d ever seen, especially with the sugar on his face. “You, uh… you have some sugar on your face by the way. Here and here.” You motioned to the spots on your own face so he could tell where to wipe.
His eyes widened again as he grabbed for the napkin and started to wipe the sugar off.
“So, what were you distracted by that day?” You attempted to change the subject.
“Uhhhh…” Joaquin thought for a moment. “You know what? I actually can’t remember. It’s been a while, lots has happened between then and now, I guess.” He laughed a little. “Anyway, let’s not skip over what you said when you sat down – you’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to me? I’d like to know more about that, actually.”
He watched, intrigued and entirely enthralled by you, as you became slightly shy at his words. Like the ones you’d said had been spoken on accident and that you’d been hoping he wasn’t going to bring them up again. But if there was one thing you’d learn about Joaquin, it was that he was always going to bring up the things you thought you could forget.
“Okay, well… I’ve noticed you in the cafe a few times over the last few months and I figured we must both come here pretty often in the mornings for me to see you so often. And… well…” You trailed off, your eyes falling to the plate in front of you.
Joaquin leant forward. “You can’t just leave me on a cliffhanger.”
“I thought you were cute!” You admitted, probably a little louder than you should’ve. “I thought you were cute and I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you ever since I first saw you. But you haven’t been in here for a while and the last time I saw you, I chickened out of having an actual conversation with you and ran away.”
It took every part of your strength not to get up and leave the table straight away out of sheer embarrassment. Admitting to a total stranger that you thought they were cute was not the kind of thing that you usually did. But something kept drawing you to Joaquin and today you’d just been given the perfect opportunity to do something about it.
You couldn’t meet his eyes for a while, meaning you missed the look of shock on his face and the way his face gradually broke out into a smile of disbelief. You thought he was cute? He thought you were cute! Luck had somehow been on his side today.
“You think I’m cute?” Joaquin replied, a smirk on his lips and the confidence he’d been missing over the last few months whenever he was around you returning immediately.
Your eyes flickered up to his, surprised to see that he actually seemed to be happy about it. “Well, yeah…”
Joaquin couldn’t keep the stupid smile off his face. “I swear I’m not just saying this, but I’ve been trying to get the confidence to talk to you, too. I’m a confident guy but for some reason, every time I’ve seen you in here I suddenly become the least confident man on earth.”
You didn’t doubt his words. They seemed completely truthful and you knew right away that Joaquin was not the kind of guy to lie to you. He was inherently honest.
“I haven’t been in here for a while cause of work,” Joaquin continued. “I’m in the Air Force. Means I’m not home too often, so I make the most of it when I am.” He decided to leave out the part about him practically being an Avenger. That was something he could ease you into. He had a feeling that dropping the whole Oh yeah, by the way I’m also the new Falcon would scare you off more than intrigue you.
“Well, that explains why I haven’t seen you lately,” you nodded. “So, you just come here for breakfast when you’re in town?”
He nodded. “I have a bit of a routine of a coffee and a danish after my morning run. I’m pretty glad that I do now, especially since you came to talk to me today. Even if I had sugar all over my face and embarrassed the hell outta myself when you did.”
Joaquin was pretty sure he was never going to live that down. It was certainly something that Sam Wilson was never going to hear about or he would tease him about it for the rest of his life, he was sure of that.
You laughed. “Okay, but the sugar on your face was actually kind of cute, and if I knew you better I would have just wiped it off for you instead of embarrassing you by telling you so you had to do it yourself.”
“Why don’t we get to know each other better then?” Joaquin saw his chance and took it. “Let me take you out on a date, somewhere that isn’t this coffee shop and somewhere I won’t eat something that covers my face in sugar. What do you say?”
He was pretty confident that you were going to say yes, especially when he saw your lips curl into a smile. He could almost see the cogs turning in your mind as you tried to figure out what to say to answer him.
“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise I’m not some kind of creep – and yes, I’m well aware that is exactly what someone who is a creep would say – but I’m really not,” he laughed. “All I am is a guy who’s been crushing on the cute girl who keeps coming into my coffee shop and trying to convince myself to talk to her.”
“Okay, okay – fine, I’ll go on a proper date with you,” you agreed, unable to keep it in any longer. Watching him try and convince you was so incredibly endearing but you couldn’t keep him waiting when he was clearly so eager to take you out.
Joaquin grinned. “So… can I pick you up at 7, then?”
“Tonight?”
“You got other plans?”
You shook your head. “No, I just didn’t expect you to be so quick with it.”
“Well, with my job, I could be gone tomorrow and I feel like we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you? I mean… we’ve both liked each other for months without knowing a single thing about each other apart from our coffee orders. I’d like to change that,” he admitted.
“All right,” you agreed with a nod. “You’ll pick me up at 7. But right now, I am going to eat this pastry that’s been sitting here in front of me the whole time and I’ll let you finish your danish cause after all, you did steal my seat and I did come here to eat some breakfast.”
Joaquin chuckled and picked up his danish again. “You promise to tell me if I get sugar all over my face again?”
“Maybe,” you grin. “Like I said, you looked pretty cute with sugar all over your face.”
He shook his head and took a bite of his danish. He’d thought he wasn’t going to live this down if Sam ever found out about it, but he hadn’t counted on you being one to keep reminding him about it. But… you found it cute, so Joaquin was pretty sure he could live with that… hearing you calling him cute.
You smiled to yourself as you watched him bite into the danish and end up with sugar on his face again. It wasn’t everywhere like it had been before but it was on the corner of his mouth.
He looked over at you. “I have sugar on my face again, don’t I?”
“You trying to get me to tell you that I think you’re cute again, Joaquin?”
“Can you blame a guy for liking the fact that a pretty girl thinks he’s cute?”
Smiling, you reached over and swiped your finger over the corner of his mouth, removing the sugar from it. You almost laughed at the way Joaquin froze and the look of shock on his face. He was pretty sure he’d just died and gone to heaven, actually.
“You just had a little bit of sugar there,” you hummed, picking your own danish up.
Joaquin let out a long, shaky breath. Who knew a strawberry danish could be so dangerous?
#captain america#captain america: brave new world#captain america x reader#joaquin torres#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin torres x you#falcon x reader#falcon#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x you
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in the meantime / Aaron Hotchner
summary. when hotch gets hurt, you're called as his emergency contact. thing is, nobody knows you're not together anymore.
words count. 2 336
what to expect. a little angst I guess but fluff too, Jack is mentioned but he's a teen
a/n. I first imagined this very funny and light and I ended up adding more angst??? but it's still sweet and cute and hotch is a lover boy
F1 masterlist | general masterlist| request
When you got called at school, at first, you didn’t think it could be that moment you’ve been scared of for months finally happening.
Being a kindergarten teacher, it was easy to leave your class and ask for a colleague to take care of your children. They were all occupied with creating a new poster with their names and wouldn't even notice your absence. Well, you imagine they wouldn’t because you weren’t supposed to leave for too long.
“Do you know who’s asking for me?” you asked the principal’s assistant who came for you. He was one of your friends here, so you knew how to analyze his gesture. And from how fast he was walking right now, you could tell this was more serious than you first thought.
“Well, she’s a brunette, dressed in black.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway to think for a second. Trying hard to remember what her name could be. Thing was, you didn’t know that many brunettes, dressed in black that could authorize herself to come here. “I think her name is Emily or something like that.”
You stopped in the middle of the hallway, freezing.
You appreciated Emily. You would even call her a friend, even if you only knew her through Hotch. But you barely talked outside of the moment you spent together.
Getting a call from her would have been weird. Having her come to your school wasn’t normal at all.
Yet, here she was. Waiting in the principal’s office. Indeed, she was wearing an all-black outfit but mostly wearing a concerned expression on her face.
When you opened the door, she rushed to you, interrupting her conversation. Her hand was soon on your shoulder and her eyes were locked on yours. You found some comfort in it. The problem was, you had no idea why you needed it.
“What are you doing here, Emily?” you asked, whispering like it was some secret the rest of your colleagues or your superior didn’t need to know. Which was true, somehow. “Is everything alright?”
But you knew it wasn’t. And the three words that followed were the proof. “It’s Hotch.”
Your heart dropped, and the whole world went silent.
You’ve spent months afraid of hearing these words one day. Checking your phone multiple times a day, waiting for his text to make sure he was doing fine. There were moments when you would have the same nightmares of coming home to an empty house, sometimes with more graphic images you wished you could forget.
When Emily noticed you seemed to disconnect from reality, she put her other hand on your shoulder. “He’s ok,” she added.
“I don’t know how, but the unsub managed to stab him in the stomach. He lost a lot of blood and went to surgery, but he should be fine. Spencer told me he was waking up when he arrived here, you heard Emily explain, but her voice seemed like a distant melody.
You tried to focus on the good news, that Hotch was fine. As fine as he can be after an attack that probably woke up some trauma, but fine. Not dead. Not in danger. Fine.
You took a breath and nodded to accept the information you just got. And showing Emily that you listened, that you understood what she said.
It wasn’t until you managed to keep your stress as low as possible that the question popped up in your head. “You came all the way here to tell me?”
Emily looked at you with confusion.
“Well, you’re his girlfriend and his emergency contact. And you weren’t answering your phone. I thought it would be better to bring you to the hospital myself than let you learn about that later by yourself.”
That was the moment you understood why Emily chose to drive all the way here.
Hotch didn’t tell anyone you weren’t together anymore.
Dating Hotch was easy, more than people thought it was.
He was a great listener. He loved to hear you speak about everything in your life just as much as he loved paying attention to small details. Offering your favorite flowers, having your favorite artist in his car, and sending a text about important events at your job even when he was miles and miles away.
You could tell Hotch was working on the experience he got from his past relationship and all that he still had to learn to be a good partner for you. And he was doing a wonderful job on it.
This relationship did a lot of good for him too. With Jack being a teen and less with his dad, he finally felt like he had a new purpose to come back home. Hotch learned to love opening his door again. This time not being met by the silence. But by you, with some kind of reality TV on, reading a book on a sofa he almost forgot about before seeing you on it—not to mention the memories the both of you created on it. You made him feel loved. At his place but at every place in his life too.
For a year, you two have been the happiest and did everything to make this relationship work. Even the team noticed the change in Hotch’s personality. And after multiple drinks together, you started to call them friends too. You both loved the routine you created together.
But even with the brightest sun shining on your relationship, the truth was the stress was still there. His job was anxious, to you, but to him too. Having someone to care about in his life once again made Hotch concerned about losing you. He tended to be more protective after rough cases, sometimes leaning to some controlling behavior he hated as much as you did.
The disputes became more and more recurrent. And after another fight, you both decided that maybe you needed a moment away from each other to wonder if this was really worth it. You wanted Aaron Hotchner to be the love of your life; you really did. Just as he wanted to. But was it really the life you both wanted?
It was a hard month away from him; you won’t lie.
And knowing you almost lost him was even hard.
“Let’s go,” you finally replied. And the ride to the hospital was surprisingly calm.
The few times you saw Emily, you both kept chatting for hours to the point Hotch even laughed one day about fearing she might steal you from him. But this time, there were no words. Not only because of the stress, but also because you realized you were lying to your friend because of Hotch. You haven’t seen him in a month, having no idea about what his life might have been these past thirty days. And she was great at worming information out of you. So you would rather not say a thing instead of spilling a secret.
The whole drive to the hospital felt like a fever dream. And nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling you got when you opened the door. A mix of relief and stress.
Hotch was there, indeed. Underneath a white sheet that made his skin look even paler, with dark circles bigger than the last time you saw him and a tired expression that made you wish you could do anything to let him relax and rest for at least a month.
He was facing the window and only turned his head when he heard you coming in. And the confusion replaced the tiredness on his face. Yet, you still noticed the short smile that drew on his lips when he saw you. “What are you doing here?”
His tone was sweet. Sweeter than usual. No matter how down he was, Hotch took everything in him to make you feel welcome. He didn’t want you to question your presence here or to think he was questioning it. He was glad to see your face after the awful day he had. Yet, he was still wondering why you came. After a month apart, he thought you put him aside.
Deep down, Hotch had the feeling he was easy to forget. But you weren’t. You never felt his head or his heart.
You didn’t answer his question. You couldn’t even talk. You were just focused on the silhouette of the man that shared your life these past months, lying on this hospital bed, looking so fragile.
You walked to him, as close as you could. So close that your knees bumped in the bed without you realizing it. You couldn’t resist the need to brush his hair, putting away some strands that were on his forehead. His confused and drained eyes follow each one of your moves.
“Honey?” he asked again, reaching for your hand.
When you were together, not a day went by—except for those when he was away—where you wouldn’t hold hands. In the morning, when he was getting up, you tried to keep him with you a little longer. During breakfast, while he was drinking his coffee. When he said goodbye, kissing you before putting a kiss on your entangled hands. Or when you went to sleep, cuddling, with your hands on your stomach—or his, when he needed it after a rough day.
“You didn’t tell them we broke up,” you said in a low voice. It was the first time you said it out loud but also realized what it meant. And having Hotch in front of you, calling you by the nickname that followed you your whole relationship and caressing your hand with his thumb softly, helped see the truth behind that. “Emily came and picked me up because I’m your emergency contact, and I wasn’t answering my phone, and as your girlfriend, she assumed I needed to know. Because you didn’t tell anyone we weren’t together anymore.”
You finally landed your eyes on his, losing yourself in his baffled puppy look. “You’re right, I didn’t.” Hotch said. It was the first time since you came in that you noticed his voice was a little raspy. “And I’m glad it led you here.”
You could hear the sincerity in his voice, not that you doubted he meant it. Over a year, you’ve learned to recognize Hotch’s expression. Especially the way his face was always softer when he was with you. Or how his very stoic and linear mouth always curled up in a smile around you.
Still, you had one question on your tongue. “Why?”
“Why am I glad?” he replied with a giggle. One that was sadly followed by a grimace. You watched as Hotch brought his other hand to his stomach to ease the pain. The doctor told him that even with the medicine, it would take him multiple days to get better. And until the stitches were gone, he wasn’t allowed to go back on the field.
But suddenly, the idea of being stuck at his office or at home wasn’t as awful as it was when he first thought about it.
You sighed, focusing on his face rather than the wound he was clearly keeping hidden from you. “Why haven’t you told them?”
Hotch took a second to look at you. The answer was obvious to him, to the point that there wasn’t a question to begin with. Over this past month, there was not a moment where he thought he had to make things clearer about your situation. Sure, he was a very private man, yet he never lied about you. He just kept things as they were. “Because I didn’t want it to be over.”
Hotch sat up against the headboard and motioned to you to sit on the bed with him. He moved his legs to give you space. And the heat you felt when he held your hand tighter to help you reminded you of the obvious attraction you had for him. Even after he had a terrible day.
“Listen,” he started again with a tone that imposed on listening to him. That's not to say you weren't paying attention in the first place. “I know we made this decision together, and I respect it. And this month apart gave me the time to think about us.”
The first night coming home to an empty and silent house wasn’t easy for Hotch. He felt like he had failed again at keeping someone in his life. He hated that he lied to Jack, saying you had family obligations to explain your absence. He didn’t want his son to be disappointed about his dad's inability to maintain a great relationship.
And one day, Jack told him about a girl at school he had a crush on and everything he did to prove to her it was worth trying rather than giving up.
“I want to make things right with you.” Hotch pursued, bringing your hands to his chest. “Maybe I need to work on my perception of danger when it comes to you. And if so, I will do it. Because I want you.”
You always found it fascinating how his eyes often spoke louder than his words. And the look he was giving you right now was the best argument he could have found to prove you he meant it. Hotch loved you. And so did you.
When a smile started to grow on your lips, also a silent answer to his silent confession, you noticed his lips curved too. Hotch let go of your hand to bring his own to your neck and move your face closer to him. But you stopped right before your lips touched.
“Maybe you should just consider not getting hurt the next time we argue.” You whispered, which made him laugh.
“Right, I’ll think about that.” He replied before finally guiding you to his lips.
Hotch never stopped believing he would get you back. So maybe he was right about not telling anyone about the breakup.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner criminal minds#thomas gibson#hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#ssa aaron hotchner#bau#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner x reader#hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#my writing
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I was once talking to a massage therapist, a woman in her 50s or early 60s, and when I started telling her about how I'm demisexual, she just.... stopped in the middle of working on my shoulders. Her hands just went limp.
She was quiet for so long that I lifted up my head to see what was wrong, and she looked like she'd been struck by lightning. And finally she said, "That. I'M that. That's what I am, that's ME." and I got really choked up and said, yeah. Yeah, that is you.
Once, I got an email from an 80 year old man who said he'd seen my book in the library. He said he was so embarrassed as he checked it out because he felt like there was a spotlight shining on him and the librarian might say something... But he was brave, and he took it home and read it and LOVED IT. And then he told me that he was gay, that he'd been closeted for his entire life and he'd never told ANYONE ELSE BEFORE because it had been so dangerous when he was young, and he'd been so afraid that someone would find out. He said he'd been so scared that he'd never even dared to kiss another man. And he said that my book gave him a little taste of what real love might feel like -- he called it a ray of light in the dark. (Obviously I ugly-cried for an hour and wrote him back with a BUNCH MORE recs for gay romance novels and all the love and encouragement and emotion I had in me. I wanted so badly to talk to him more, to have a connection with him, but I think he was too afraid for more than just that little thread of a lifeline between us. I check the obituaries for his name once a year or so, just because I so badly want to know that he's still alive.)
They're out there--there are older queers of all stripes. But we have to remember that times were different in their day, and so many of them are still so, so scared. Of course they're quiet. Of course you have to go looking for them. Of course they probably won't tell you anything until you've earned their trust.
Be gentle with people when they ask awkward questions about queerness, because they might be someone who has been very scared for a very long time and who has just worked up quite a lot of bravery to ask a life-changing question to the only person they have ever encountered who might know the answer. If the solemn and sacred duty of being that angel for someone falls to you, HONOR IT. Be gentle, be warm. Welcome them when they peek out from the closet. Don't punish them for getting it a little wrong. Please, please be gentle.
I want old aros so badly. I want a history. I want a future. I want tales of lives that I understand. I want to see myself in a future where I’m happy and comfortable.
But I don’t have that, so I’ll have to build it.
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Wanderer stumbling upon reader bathing in hot springs alone after an exposition and joins? (nsfw) but with breast praise/service
wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut. nipple play. clitoral orgasm. praise.
to be honest, i wasn't sure what you meant by exposition 😅 forgive me.
there is just something about a quiet, open air bath in a hot spring. the peace to soak in the warm water alone with no one else around is unmatched. you hadn't counted on any intrusions, being as late as it was at night.
wanderer was trying to find a quiet tree to hang out in. he didn't know the true meaning of the word temptation until he saw you, standing naked in the hot spring, your back turned to him, letting water cascade down your body.
he knew he should've fucked off the moment he saw you, but he is frozen in place. his eyes drawn to the curve of your ass, the side peek of your breasts as you bent down to cup more water into your hand.
he considered just quietly going up into a nearby tree to watch you bathe unnoticed when you suddenly turned around. he'd been too distracted by the teasing curve of your hips.
clearly startled to see him, you immediately sank into the water to cover yourself, putting your arms over your chest. "oh my, you scared me. there usually is no one here at this time," you exclaimed, the flush on your cheeks wasn't caused by the warmth of the hot spring.
wanderer wore a similar one. "sounds like a you issue and not a me issue," he scoffs, crossing his arms. "i'll just turn around and walk back the way i came," he didn't want to. and he wouldn't. he knew the perfect tree to hide in so he could keep shamelessly staring at you.
you shook your head, looking away shyly. "you don't have to leave. you can come in if you want. this is a public hot spring," you cutely huddle further down into the water. "besides it's probably nothing you haven't seen before. the human body is a very natural thing, after all," you have a habit of talking a lot of when you are flustered.
you have always seen this boy wearing a glare that made your heart pound in ways you didn't even think were possible.
"oh yeah?" wanderer could tell you are fighting the urge not to look at him as he took off his clothes, "then why are you trying to hide it?" he teases as he gets into the hot spring.
"because it's more dignified that way. shut up," you bat some water at him with your hand.
"i gotta say, you are cute when you are shy and angry," it is so satisfying to him to see the blush on your cheeks darken as he settles into the water next to you.
for wanderer, time seemed to stand still for him. and he didn't quite notice when time returned to normal again, with you straddling his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck while he tongue devours your mouth.
water sloshes quietly around you as he adjusts you in his lap. your pussy had just brushed against his cock, filling him with the overwhelming need to feel tucked between your folds. "you know," he murmurs, pulling away to nip at your lower lip, "i always thought temptation was a very human word. until i saw you," he snatched your lips up in another deep, open mouthed kiss, swallowing a groan as his cock throbs against your pussy.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, opening your mouth for his tongue. you moan softly into his mouth as he grinds his cock on your pussy. seeking more friction, you move your in hips to meet him halfway. you shiver as his tongue glides against yours. "your lips are so soft," you marvel, a little dazed as he pulls away again.
grinding into his lap, you move your head down for another kiss. wanderer smirks as he scoffs softly, "pretty, needy thing, aren't you?" he puts a hand on your chin to stop you. the soft whine you let out at being stopped made his cock harder against your pussy.
"being up against you just so happens to feel good," wanderer can absolutely tell your blustering nonsense to cover up how shy you feel. you probably have never done anything bold like this before. it is genuinely adorable how easy it is to work you up.
his eyes travel to your tempting breasts. "i think i'll indulge myself," he cups your breast, skimming his thumb across your nipple, "you just keep moaning all pretty for me," the tip of his tongue flicks out across your nipple.
you sigh shakily, arching your back to bring your chest to his mouth. taking this as an invitation to do as he pleases, he swirls his tongue around your nipple. "so soft," he marvels, squeezing your breast before giving your nipple a gentle pinch.
he quickly scoops your nipple into his mouth. the way his tongue flicked against your sensitive, hardening nipple as he sucked felt like he was exploring the sensation of it on his tongue. the way your body shivers as he pinches your other nipple is intoxicating to him.
you whimper, seeking friction from his cock on your throbbing clit. "you sound as pretty as your body feels responding to me," keeping an arm braced around your back, he kept your chest anchored over his mouth as he moved to your other nipple.
he greedily wants more from you. you just sound too fucking sweet, whimpering touch starved with need for him. his hand lingers, groping on your breast before it drops into the water. he is eager to feel and hear how you would sound if his fingers were working your clit over.
you couldn't stop your moans as his fingers rub and pinch your clit. your thighs tremble as you grind into his fingers. "that's a good girl," he moans, wagging his finger across your clit, "let it all out."
wanderer's sucks are eager on your nipple. the more you twitch and tremble in his hands, the more he pursued you. his cock aches to feel you shake while you cum. he chuckles hearing you moan a little louder when he praises you.
"my pretty, pretty girl. i think i'll keep you," he swirls his tongue around and around your nipple, "a delicate pet all for me," he rolls your clit between the pads of his fingers.
overwhelmed by pleasure, your thighs tremble as he coaxes your orgasm into building up. the only thing you could do was helplessly moan while he experimented on your body, sussing out what made you moan the loudest.
"how obedient, practically cumming already for me," he purrs, increasing the pressure on your clit. it throbs underneath his fingers, fraying the knot of your orgasm apart suddenly. he drinks in the fucked out haze clouding your eyes, your body quaking in his hands from the intensity of your orgasm.
panting, your head drops down onto his shoulder. "wanna go home with you," you murmur softly, nuzzling your cheek against his neck as he rubs your clit through your orgasm.
wanderer has already made up his mind though. you weren't going to spend the night doing anything else but being impaled on his cock.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#wanderer#wanderer smut#wanderer x y/n#wanderer x you#wanderer x reader
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How about Simon having a wife that is a toymaker and makes plushies. Wife!reader comes to the base and gives each of the tf 141 a plushie that looks like them. All of them gets one… except Ghost
Needles to say, he’s very upset, all day, that he didn’t get one.
Only when he gets home, he sees plushies of himself and the reader on the bed
A/N: okay omg i'm so so sorry this has taken forever but I've lost my draft three times 😭 luckily i wasn't TOO far along writing/had it copied but HERE U GO <33
Ghost x Fem!Reader - Toymaker Wife
For such a special day, you come prepared. It's the first time you're setting foot on Spec Gru's European base, thanks to your husband's insistence on security and containment—whatever that means. After much begging and many strategically missed video calls, Simon finally extends an invitation.
It's a cold, concrete world, Simon tells you. Nothing like you, love, or so he says. Does he think being a toymaker for work is synonymous with an inability to handle a few more military men than you already have? It's hard to believe that anyone on base could be more threatening or deadly than Simon himself.
Or Ghost, as they call him here. It's a little funny—reminiscent of middle schoolers that roleplay wolves named Luna or Rebel, but he'd have your head if you ever say such a thing, regardless of how true it might be. You've considered making him a wolf-ear headband just to prove a point and laugh at his furrowed expression. You're sure that his friends, those large men and women in the photo he let you keep, would find it equally funny.
"Sergeant Gaz, Captain Price, Sergeant Soap…” You count, knocking each handheld plush into your bag. It feels just a little childish, showing up to a military base with a pack full of toys-but in your defense, they're the product of your profession and adorable. Each is handmade to recreate the likeness of every member of Task Force 141. They'll probably like the gifts, if Simon's description of each's personality is accurate. Soap's boyish charm, Gaz's calm demeanor, and Price's warm, but dry sense of humor—that's something you can work with.
***
"It's—is this a mini me? This is braw, you've nailed it, lass." Soap lifts his plush into the air, as if holding a newborn babe to the sun. "Down to the scars. I'll be."
You can't help the ripple of a laugh when beside him, Gaz similarly examines his miniature self. "Not bad," he breathes, wiggling the doll's arms as if to make it dance. "Not bad at all. What a handsome fellow."
Soap lifts his doll, moving its head as if it were speaking for him in a poor attempt at ventriloquism "Finely crafted, maybe. Handsome? Well, that's up for—"
"Well, pass yours on over then, let's see that Yule log you call a mohawk," Gaz sneers back, matching Soap's doll's movements with his own.
It's a successful introduction, you think! Simon watches on in silence, loving warmth evident in his eyes as he does. He's not dragging you away and shipping you back home, so things must be going well—as silent and distant as he's being.
"Do you like them?” You ask, hands folded in your lap.
Price fidgets with his, admiring the tiny boonie hat that you've included, small strips of Velcro lining the bottom to adhere the hat to the head. "Never thought I'd ever be the owner of my own doll," he murmurs. "Got the hat just right, didn't you? Spot on."
"Aye, but don't leave it lying about," Soap grins, making his doll trot on over and speak in pitched up tones. “That hat of yours might just disappear. I've got hair too, Cap'."
"Yeah, hair that needs covering."
"Oh, bolt, ya dobber."
Amidst the light chatter of your newfound friends in Simon's comrades, you glance over at the man. There your husband stands, arms crossed tight against his chest. He's got that look—definitely pouting under that mask of his, as much as he protests, saying that it isn't pouting, it's brooding. The others seem to take notice of your wandering gaze, though, and suddenly all eyes are on Simon and his very obvious lack of a personalized doll.
"Don't look so solemn, Ghost," Gaz grins cheekily. "You've almost got me feeling bad for you. You're the one with the dollmaker for a wife, mate.
Simon doesn't respond. His dark gaze, gentle brown eyes hardened into rocks, finds Gaz. Shut it, he seems to say without even opening his mouth.
That grey cloud seems to follow him throughout the day. Convivial conversation with his other friends on base falls flat when the spotlight falls on him, his responses limited to a scant "Hmm," or "Uh-huh," or even a quiet look that verges on a glare. He'll pull away when you reach for his hand, casually enough to pass off as an accident or fault of imperceptibility. As if you didn't know him better—that his reflexes and peripheral vision weren't as sharp as blades.
"Stupid anyway," he mumbles to himself, catching your ears. "Stupid toys."
You frown. He knows better than to speak this way—you've discussed it before, about how much you treasured your work and hated having it dismissed by words like stupid and childish. “I don't think they're stupid," you interrupt, never too intimidated to speak up against him.
Simon immediately softens upon realizing that you've heard him. “It's not—that's not what I meant. You know I don't think they're stupid."
Right, but he's acting strange all day. Still, you can't find it within yourself to probe. "Something is, though. Right?"
"The way they play with them,” Simon immediately speaks, shoulders stiff. "Just…grown men, playing like children."
"Ah," you hum. Somehow, you can't bring yourself to believe it—but you don't ask. It's not as if it's even remotely big enough of an issue to need addressing, after all. You just hate to see Simon so withdrawn. At least, more so than usual.
***
Simon is absent from dinner in the mess hall later on, after giving you an extensive tour and dropping you off at one of the on-base cafes. That's how you know something's off. He would never normally give up an opportunity to share a meal with you, even in a noisy, crowded cafeteria like the one on base.
"Wasn't hungry," he only shrugs when you find him in his on-base unit, boots kicked up as he nurses a neat whiskey. Oh, he's pouting.
You can't help yourself. "Aww, baby," you coo, lingering closer. "Are you feeling alright? You've been gloomy all day…"
"Mmph," he shrugs, gaze flickering up to yours—and he can't help how he all but melts at the love in your eyes. "Just…tired. Go'n and get your shower done. Wanna snuggle."
And how could you say no to that? Your growing suspicion had been that Simon was feeling left out, or forgotten, not receiving a doll of his own. Little does he know, you giggle to yourself.
***
You're in the shower when Simon emerges from his brooding, lurching off the couch and trudging towards the room, where he'd made his bed with clean sheets and set up fluffy pillows for his wife's arrival. The bitterness of being left out of her sweet benevolence has largely faded. She is his wife, after all.
He nudges open his bedroom door, set on his dresser to shed the heavy layers of the day, the mask, and finally exist as Simon for the rest of the night. With you. No doll could ever distract him from you.
He's pulling a hoodie over his head when tiny figures catch in the corner of his vision. A hallucination? No. Dolls.
You and him, smiling and snuggled together. You in your favorite sundress, rosy cheeks and cute face. Him in his mask—which is removable, he discovers on closer inspection. Simon gently tugs off the cloth skull mask, curious to see his own likeness rendered in doll form.
"Handsome bugger," he mutters, thumb brushing over his doll's small face. Blond with stern brown eyes, but smiling. Soap was right about the scars—each placed with perfect accuracy. The one extending from the left corner of his lip up his cheek. The one across his eyebrow. You even got the one under his chin, tucked under the plushie's soft, round face.
On the right hands of both dolls, he realizes, there is a hidden circle of Velcro. So they can hold hands in any orientation. It's such a you thing to do that it hurts.
When you emerge from your shower, all three are gathered in the living room, watching TV. Simon with his legs up on the coffee table, and your miniatures holding hands in his lap. It's hard to help the beam that curls up on your lips—and why would you want to?
"Looks like someone's found the kids," you coo, swaying over and plopping down beside him. “I'm glad you like 'em. Did I do you justice?"
"More than," Simon rasps, scooting close, flush against your side. "They're better than that git, Soap's, that's for sure."
His words coax laughter out of you as you press your head to his chest and scoop up the two little toys into your arms. "Careful, Si. They might hear what you said and tell him.”
"They can go on and tell the whole base, for all I care. Your skill went as far as it could go, it's his face that's the problem." Simon snorts, tugging you close and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Better believe I'm showing this one off tomorrow. Might have to keep it in here, though. I'm not risking a theft."
"You say that every time," you laugh, snuggling close and shutting your eyes for the night as he wraps an arm around you—warm, solid, and safely his.
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