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andypantsx3 · 15 hours ago

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FILLING IN | BAKUGOU x READER ˖˚˳⊹

summary: A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki. contents: The classic oh-no-the-porn-talent-has-gone-missing-let's-sub-a-rando-in trope, no quirks au, pornstar Bakugou, soft dom Bakugou, gn + afab reader, unrequited-requited crush, slight bondage, descriptions of afab genitalia, nipple sucking, cunnilingus, piv sex, pet names used: angel and sweetheart, porn with surprise feelings, 18+, 8.2k words notes: This is my Bakugou x Reader commitment for @ficsforgaza, and I am sorry it is late enough to also count for Valentine's Day (but also Happy Valentine's Day!!) Additionally, a special thank you to my angel princess @ofmermaidstories for handing me the nerd + pornstar combo when I was worried about Bakugou's characterization. I think this is the only way I could have ever written a pornstar Bakugou that felt right to me. Love you, Mermie.

The studio was churning in chaos by the time you arrived.

The first sign that things weren’t right was Komori, one of your fellow production assistants, propped against the wall outside. Her cellphone was pressed against her ear, and she looked nervous, her foot tapping a thousand miles a minute. She had a thumbnail pressed to her mouth and was chewing steadily through the nail like a rabbit through a lettuce leaf.

You didn’t want to disturb her, so you buzzed inside the studio, only to find the hallways filled with an equally nervous energy. Yaoyorozu, one of the production managers, hovered in the doorway of a dressing room. She looked to be arguing with someone, her normally sweet expression pinched in profile. A small circle of people took up the hallway behind her, shifting apprehensively.

A shrill voice filtered out of the dressing room as you tried to wedge yourself by. “I said I’m not doing it. We’re getting married and we agreed I wouldn’t do this anymore.”

“Bibimi—” Yaoyorozu started.

“Effective immediately. Find someone else,” Bibimi’s voice replied.

You stopped in your tracks, blinking as you turned back to the doorway, peering over Sato’s shoulder.

Bibimi Kenranzaki was one of the studio’s top actresses, the very performer scheduled to shoot the production you were working on this afternoon. The shoot was a Valentine’s Day special, and had already been delayed at Bibimi’s request several times. If you’d understood Yaoyorozu’s previous concerns correctly, today was the last possible day to shoot it with enough time for it to make it through editing to post on Valentine’s.

This was not good.

“Bibimi, of course we would never force you to do something you did not consent to,” Yaoyorozu said patiently. “But you can see how having delayed this shoot many times already puts us in danger of not delivering on our commitments.”

You heard a dismissive snort issue from the room, and peered over one of Yaoyorozu’s slender shoulders. Bibimi lounged across one of the waiting room couches, arms crossed over her chest. An enormous diamond ring you’d never seen before glinted from one of her fingers, clearly the source of today’s change of heart.

Oh, production was not going to be happy.

You winced as you ducked out from behind Yaoyorozu, heading back down the hall to stuff your things into one of the vacant lockers. It was a struggle to fit everything in as today you’d come directly from a lecture—two textbooks the size and weight of cinderblocks choking up all the space in your bag. You would have thought that, considering that a wide swath of the production staff were college students—including several of the performers themselves—the studio would have had a better set up. But it was often a fight to the death to even find an open locker amongst the many other bookbags, and an equally Sisyphean struggle to get the door shut on the tiny cubbies.

Once you finally managed to finagle the door shut on your backpack, you made a beeline for the supply room. Typically, your first task of any shoot was acquisition of about a million pounds of baby wipes and lube, though you wondered if they would be needed today, given the scene with Bibimi you’d just witnessed.

You checked the film schedule posted in the staff entry to find the allotted set room. Then you made your way down the twisting maze halls carpeted with ancient olefin to the set for You Cumplete Me, the obnoxious working title Kaminari had come up with for this particular Valentine’s Day project.

The room was set up like some generic apartment, a large bed with a wire-framed headboard dominating the majority of the space. A cherry wood nightstand cluttered with fake knick knacks stood diligently at the bedside, and two fake windows with their curtains drawn shut overlooked the whole affair, red dressings fluttering slightly in the breeze from a fan.

Most of the production staff was already inside the room, the cameramen and director huddled together in the corner, whispering nervously. You spotted Mina, the wardrobe coordinator and makeup artist, fussing with her phone in the other corner, her various products and brushes spread out across a plastic folding table, looking put out.

“You know if we’re going to be able to sub anyone in for Bibimi?” you asked as you approached her, flopping down in one of the chairs set up at her makeshift dressing table. You arrayed your armful of lube and plastic packs of wipes at the corner so as not to disturb her arrangement.

Mina’s eyes flicked up to yours and she grinned, the upturn of her mouth accented with perfectly-applied hot pink lipstick.

“Komori’s called like ten other actresses so far and can’t get anyone,” Mina answered. “And Shiozaki and Kendo are in-studio but both just got off another shoot so we contractually can’t use them. I think Yaomomo is ready to start shaking people down.”

You winced. Yaoyorozu never lost her cool, but the pressure must be mounting. You knew marketing materials had already been put out on the studio’s website, specifically promising the return of the studio’s highest-grossing star—Bakugou Katsuki—opposite Bibimi.

While Bibimi might be the highest paid actress, Bakugou was the real draw of UA Productions. UA churned out projects that were largely targeted towards less traditional markets—largely women—porn that was often of higher production value, higher quality scripting, and careful coordination showcasing enthusiasm and consent. It also subsequently employed more than its fair share of beautiful men.

And Bakugou Katsuki crowned that pile of performers. Though foul-mouthed and often irascible, he was undeniably breathtaking to behold, both on screen and in person. He was the typical blend of tall, strong, and well-muscled that most UA actors were. But he moved with a singular precision and intention that drove fans wild, and came equipped with bed-rumpled blond hair, mile-long lashes, a surly, pouty mouth, and a facial symmetry that Euclid himself would have wept over.

He was also nearing the end of his doctoral and would not be filming for much longer, you were given to understand. So the studio stood to lose a significant amount of audience trust and money, should this production fall through.

As if on cue, Bakugou Katsuki himself stomped through the doorway. The expression on his face told you he was already well-aware of what was happening with Bibimi, and he was getting annoyed with the hold up. He set a direct line for you and Mina, mouth twisted in dissatisfaction.

Your ears promptly went hot, the way they always did when Bakugou was in your line of vision.

You’d unfortunately had something of a crush on him from the minute you’d become a production assistant at UA, your third year of college. Funds were tight and your masters program loomed large in front of you, its meager stipend like a slap in the face. You’d needed something else flexible, and you’d found UA through the friend of a friend—its proximity to the university, and ever changing schedule of ongoing productions offering the perfect amount of flexibility for your situation.

Bakugou had been there that first day as Yaoyorozu gave you the tour, too. He’d been tucked up on the couch of the waiting room as you passed through, blonde hair rumpled, someone’s lip gloss still smeared at the corner of his jaw. He looked like a soft, relaxed mess—clothes askew like he’d pulled them back on after a shoot and immediately migrated to the couch—though his scarlet eyes tracked intently across the page of an enormous engineering text spread across his thighs. His long fingers twirled a pen absently, tapping against a notebook peeking out from just under the textbook, headphones jammed over his ears.

He did not look up as you made your way inside, but your stomach had flared to life with a sudden flutter of butterflies. You were startled by the pretty set of his mouth, the long lashes that swept over his cheeks as he read, the flex of those long, beautiful fingers on his pen. You had never seen a person so perfect in real life, and the effect was dumbing.

“That’s Bakugou, one of our performers,” Yaoyorozu had told you, leading you through the room. She did not stop to introduce you. “He’s working on a PhD in chemical engineering, and performs once every couple of months for us. He’s—erm—not quite friendly, so we’ll skip the introduction today.”

You’d followed her, nodding obediently, leaving Bakugou behind. You’d dutifully concluded your tour and signed all the paperwork, and met several other members of the staff. It was only when you’d been released from your onboarding obligations that you saw Bakugou again, as you ran out into the parking lot to start your car.

It was raining out, a torrential downpour much worse than when you’d arrived that came down in thick, pelting sheets. Visibility was bad enough that you almost missed the tuft of blonde hair across the parking lot, ducking under the awning of the nearby bus stop.

You knew the route headed back towards your university, and subsequently your apartment, and it dawned on you that Bakugou’s would most likely be attaining his cited PhD at your same college. You felt your mouth twist, impressed. PhD tracks were notoriously difficult to attain at Musutafu University—no wonder Bakugou needed a job that was, for lack of better phrasing, quick and dirty. He probably was drowning in post-grad labs and dissertation materials.

The memory of those long fingers tapping at the edge of his text suddenly flickered again in your brain, and something possessed you as you started up your engine. Before you knew what you were doing, you had pulled your car around into the bus stop bay, leaning out to call out to him.

“Hey—Bakugou, right?” you said, watching as scarlet eyes found yours, narrowing suspiciously. His pretty mouth lifted in an immediate, reflexive snarl, and those broad shoulders squared off, like he was getting ready for trouble.

You cut in, quickly explaining yourself when you realized he had no context for the rando hanging out of their car window at him. “I’m Yaoyorozu’s new production staff. Just joined today. Are you headed towards Musutafu U and do you want a ride?”

A blonde eyebrow lifted. “You’re with UA?” he asked. His voice was a kind of low growl, not unlike the thunder suddenly echoing overhead, and the sound shot through you like a bolt of lightning.

“I—yeah. Just signed the paperwork this afternoon.”

Several spatters of rain dampened your cheeks where you had your head poked out of the window, and Bakugou’s eyes tracked them closely as he leaned in. “Then let’s get one thing straight right off the bat—I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”

You recoiled, horrified at the conclusion he’d immediately brought himself to. “No! That’s not what I—I didn’t mean like—! I just thought because it’s raining out, you might want—”

“I want you to fuck right off, is what I want,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms over his chest. He made a show of leaning back against the glass wall of the bus stop, its interior papered over with moldering ads. It was a clear dismissal.

You blinked at him stupidly for a moment, mind reeling that your gesture had been received so poorly. But then you realized he hadn’t seen you, in your trek through the staff room during your afternoon tour. You’d only just seen him, and you hadn’t spoken to him besides. Despite your immediate interest in and respect for him, he knew nothing about you.

And he was a pornstar, come to think of it. He probably had had a fair number of creeps proposition him out of the blue. Enough that he was suspicious now, as you might have been, were you in his position.

Your cheeks heated, suddenly ashamed. You nodded, gritting your teeth as you ducked back inside your car.

“Right, fucking off, as requested,” you said, turning your blinker on to move back out into the road. “Sorry to scare you. See you, um—see you at work sometime.”

“Oi—I ain’t fuckin’ scared,” you heard him growl, but then you were turning back out into the street. You rolled your window back up as you sped up, resisting the urge to look back at Bakugou in the rearview.

What a humiliating first impression that had been.

You'd fretted about it for another week before your first official day at UA, and for several weeks more when you didn’t immediately run into Bakugou. When you’d finally met him properly, however, Bakugou acted like he’d never even seen you before in his life, and you somewhat gratefully followed his lead. He treated you like anyone else, with the same kind of universal severity he turned on the other production staff. You discovered very quickly that he was impatient, brusque, no-nonsense. He stalked onto every set with all the latent energy of a nuclear missile strike, and never softened until after the shoot was over.

His general attitude, and your humiliating first encounter should have been enough to turn you off of him. But the occasional glimpse of him after a shoot—rumpled, relaxed, open in a way he normally wasn’t, in the way that you'd first seen him—was unfortunately enough to keep those initial butterflies aflutter.

The fact that he was smart—and annoyingly adept in the bedroom, considering the number of reshoots his costars often needed after they accidently came too early—did not help matters.

“Where the fuck is Yaoyorozu?” he demanded of you and Mina, as he approached you in the set room now.

You met his scarlet gaze, holding very still under his regard.

“She was negotiating with Bibimi just now when I came in,” you told him, cheeks heating as his eyes flicked over you. He had a very direct way of evaluating people, and rarely missed a detail. You hoped your makeup wasn’t smudged from where you’d had your head propped up in your hand, valiantly resisting falling asleep in your earlier lecture.

“Bibimi’s a waste of fuckin’ time,” Bakugou growled.

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t very well act opposite his own hand, so someone was going to have to fill in.

“Well Mina says we’re not having luck finding anyone else either so Bibimi is your best bet,” you told him.

Bakugou looked down his perfect nose at you. “Anyone in this damn studio could do better than she does.”

You felt your eyebrows raise. Bibimi was popular with a variety of audiences for her exaggeratedly dollish features—you doubted just anyone could fill in for her and look as good. You said as much to Bakugou, and he scoffed.

“‘S not about looking good, it’s about showing that you’re feeling good,” he said plainly, igniting a wave of fire across your cheeks. The flames worsened when he crossed his arms over his chest and you had occasion to notice he was in nothing but a workout tank, his bare biceps flexing enticingly in the studio lighting.

You were thankfully spared from having to form a coherent response by Yaoyorozu stepping into the room. She was tailed by Komori, and wore a troubled expression. She waved an elegant hand that encompassed both your camp in the corner and the directors on the other side of the room.

“Bibimi is unfortunately out. And we cannot use Shiozaki or Kendo. I am afraid we may have to call off the shoot this afternoon,” she said.

“So get someone else in,” Bakugou said, with his usual brisk directness. He turned to face her. You caught the whiff of something light and clean on him as he did so, laundry detergent and recently-applied shampoo.

Yaoyorozu fixed him with an expectant look. “We’ve unfortunately worked our way through the roster of available performers. Unless you know someone else?”

Bakugou stared back at her evenly, arching a blonde brow. “There’re a bunch of extras already here, aren’t there?”

A little shock went through you. Extras. As in the…people in the room right now? Did he really mean the production staff?

Yaoyorozu blinked, apparently taken aback. Then her gaze slid thoughtfully between Komori, Mina, and you. Another little thrill raced through you, like you’d suddenly missed a step. Surely they both could not actually be considering that.

“I’m a hoe but I’m a loyal hoe,” Mina said from next to you, immediately putting up a rosy palm. “Eiji is my one and only, sorry babes.”

Yaoyorozu nodded. “Of course, I would not expect you to violate any commitments you already had to a significant other.”

“I am also seeing someone,” Komori volunteered, a shy little blush sweeping across her cheeks. You smiled a bit at her obvious regard for whoever it was—until you sensed a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly turning to you.

Your stomach dropped—less of a missed step then and more of a sudden push off a cliff.

Worst of all was the pair of scarlet eyes suddenly burning with undue regard in your direction. You stared straight at Yaoyorozu, unable to meet Bakugou’s gaze. You still felt like you might burn up under his scrutiny, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“I—uh—” you said dumbly, floundering for the right set of words to explain yourself. “Uhh.”

“You seeing anybody?” Bakugou prodded, prompting a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks.

“Well—no—”

“You clean?” he asked.

Your face burned hotter. “Yes, if you must know—-but uh—”

“Then what?” he prompted.

“Is it that easy for you? To just switch partners like that?” you asked. You weren’t exactly a blushing virgin but you still had only slept with partners you had cared for. Bakugou had worked with you for years and never signaled anything beyond dismissal and semi-professionalism—so it wasn’t like he had that same level of interest in you, despite your enormous crush on him. How could he just switch, just like that?

Bakugou uncrossed his arms to settle his hands on slim hips instead, and he gave you another evaluating once over. “Something the matter with you?” he asked. You noticed he did not ask if you thought something was the matter with him. You wondered if your crush on him was that apparent.

“No,” you said defensively. “Just—I don’t know that I’d be any good on camera.”

“You’ve been in videos before,” Mina pointed out, tugging playfully on your belt loop. “You were in Bibimi’s Christmas special a couple years ago.”

“That was different,” you said, staring at her. “I was her evil coworker who sent her running into Tetsutetsu’s muscular arms. I didn’t have to get naked.”

“We can give you time to get prepared,” Yaoyorozu promised kindly. “If you wanted to um, clean up or trim—”

“It’s not that!” you said quickly, waving your arms. Your ears burned. “I just mean I would be shy.”

Bakugou watched you silently for another long moment, his full mouth pursed in thought. His gaze dragged down your body and then back up to your face, and you felt it like a physical touch.

“Then if you forgot you were on camera?” he asked, a rasp in his tone.

You blinked at him dumbly. “If I—forgot?”

“If I made you forget,” he said, flashing a sharp smirk. The arrogance looked so good on him, zinging through your veins like an electric current. Your cheeks and ears flared even hotter, until you thought you might actually be emitting smoke from them.

You tried to form words but seemed to have trouble shaping the proper ones with your tongue, making a series of choking noises before you managed. “There is no way you could—you’re not that good.”

Something hot flared to life behind Bakugou’s eyes, and his smirk curled even sharper. “We’ll see about that.”

“What if Bakugou helps you get over your nerves, and we just try it and see how you do.” Yaoyorozu prompted gently. “Is that something you would be willing to do? Of course we won’t pressure you.”

Your gaze jerked back to her as you startled. For just a second you’d sort of forgotten there was anyone in the room but Bakugou.

“I sort of doubt—but if you really need—I mean I could—try…” you fumbled out.

Yaoyorozu nodded gratefully, looking pleased again. “Alright, then let’s at least try it. Mina please find proper costuming and help get Y/N ready. I will draw up a short contract with the same terms we promise all our on camera talent for you to look over when you’re done.”

You nodded, a little dazed. Had you really just agreed to—?

But then Mina was laughing, grabbing you by the elbow and drawing you out of the room. She marched you towards the back of the studio building where she’d amassed a respectable wardrobe, racks upon racks of clothes. “Alright, this is going to be so fun! I love dressing new talent! It’s always fun to work out what’s going to work with your coloring and style on screen.”

The mention of you doing anything on screen had all the blood draining from your veins, but Mina didn’t seem to mind. She kept up a stream of happy, easy chatter as she pecked around in the racks like a chicken hunting a grasshopper. Eventually she emerged with a robe in a deep pink, slippery and silky and glistening faintly under the overheads.

“Okay so you’re supposed to be a loving couple celebrating your anniversary and looking for ways to spice things up,” she said. “So you’ll be waiting for him to come home, looking delicious in this little slip of a thing. He can unwrap you like a V-Day present!”

Her callback to the plot of the shoot suddenly made you realize there were way more things involved in the project than just being pawed at on screen—and you did not know any of Bibimi’s lines. How the hell were you supposed to deliver any kind of performance?

“Don’t worry about it, I assure you the gears are already churning in Momo’s big brain,” Mina said when you asked as much. She peeled you out of your sweater and jeans, and ushered you into the robe. Cheeks burning, you let her look you over to make sure you were properly groomed for the camera.

Then before you could get cold feet, she bundled you up and shepherded you back into the set room and set to work on you with her various pots of paint and ointments. She worked a couple things into your hair, applied something glossy and sticky to your mouth, and adjusted the fit of your robe to her liking until she pronounced you ready.

Yaoyorozu was already leaning over you by the time Mina released you, laying out a packet of sheets in front of you. She detailed the terms to you in the professional, clipped tone you’d heard her conduct business in before, and soon enough you were penning in your own name in a shaky hand. The strokes looked almost foreign on the page, and you felt a little more than lightheaded thinking about what you’d just signed yourself into.

“So—what am I supposed to do about Bibimi’s lines?” you asked, your voice coming out kind of dry and crackly.

“We’re going to improvise,” Yaoyorozu said. “Bakugou will guide you. Try to respond as best you can to what he says, along the framework of being a couple celebrating their anniversary. It’s most important to capture your intimacy, however, so we can always come back and reshoot any dialog as needed after. You can call him Katsuki, there are no aliases for this shoot.”

You nodded, feeling even more nervous now that all the prerequisites had been completed.

That left Komori waiting for you. She was apparently assuming the duties you’d abandoned by becoming the star of this absurd alternate dimension. She led you over to what had been meant to be Bibimi’s starting mark on the bed and helped you spread your pink robe out enticingly. You almost laughed as you helped her, feeling foolish and distinctly unsexy for the deliberateness of it all.

There was nothing less romantic than half a dozen other people in the room with you, cameras and hot lights trained on you like you were an escaped convict under a helicopter floodlight. You got the impression that it was going to be a monumental task to work up the nerve to even loosen the tie on your robe, nevermind remove it.

Except then Bakugou walked in.

He’d changed, sometime in the half hour or so Mina had had you in her clutches. He prowled into the room in a dark charcoal suit, the consummate businessman home from his generic businessman job.

He looked unfairly good in it too—the close cut of it highlighted how his broad shoulders slashed inwards into a trim waist, and his pants showcased the flex of a strong, hard thigh. He’d acquired a chunky wristwatch in a dark metal, and it glinted dully under the overhead lights.

He looked sleek and dangerous, even though you’d just seen him stomping around in sweatpants not thirty minutes prior. You felt your breath escape you in a whoosh, your heartbeat kicking up as he prowled closer.

“I’m home, angel,” he said, a smoky rasp curling on the end of his voice. Despite the pet name, he sounded enough like his usual self that you almost answered him in turn.

You vaguely remembered you were obliged to playact with him, and you summoned up your nerve. “Hi, Katsuki,” you said. You hoped your voice did not sound too shaky. “Happy Anniversary.”

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes dipped down to your robe, fastening to the spot where it gaped open suggestively over one thigh. Your skin buzzed like a hive of bees was trapped beneath it.

“This my present?” he asked, stalking closer. He snagged the tie of your robe in his long fingers, toying with it speculatively.

“It should be easy to open,” you joked, then almost cringed.

Sexy. You were supposed to be sexy, not goofy as hell. And what happened when he really did try to open it?

A small amount of panic crept up your spine again, seeping into your veins. You did not feel ready to be naked before all of the eyes in this room, nevermind the roving gaze of the internet. What had you been thinking, signing up for this?

Your hand came up defensively to tug the robe tie back out of Bakugou’s hand, only for it to be captured too. Bakugou tugged you up and to him, and your face broke out in another sweeping wave of flame as you felt the hard planes of him against you. He was so warm, and smelled so good up close and you could not even begin to know what to do or where to put your hands—

Before you could ask him what the heck he was doing, however, he brought your captured hand to his mouth. You almost leapt out of your skin when you felt the gentle press of his lips on the inside of your wrist, the careful flicker of a tongue. Those scarlet eyes slid over you knowingly, near enough that you could see tiny flecks of deep purple in them.

His other hand came up to take your chin, his thumb stroking over the side of your jaw. The feeling made you shiver slightly, and it must have been clearly visible because the corner of Bakugou's mouth lifted into a smirk against your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, every inch of your skin thrilling with the feeling of your longtime crush doing something this to you.

“Think I’m gonna enjoying opening you alright,” Bakugou intoned.

You struggled to remember what he was talking about, giving up almost immediately as his mouth trailed along the inside of your arm. It traced up and up and up, until he was hovering dangerously close to your face. His fingers tightened on your chin, tilting your face up to his.

And then he bent his head, and crushed his mouth to yours.

Immediately, everything else disappeared.

Kissing Bakugou was three thousand zillion times hotter than you could have ever even imagined. You’d sort of imagined that with an attitude like his, he would be all power and impatience. And the power was there, but leashed, somehow. His mouth was hot and shockingly sweet on yours, and his fingers cupped your face to his, holding you there like he planned to kiss you for hours yet.

Your head was spinning by the time he let your mouth free, and the dip of his blonde lashes as he looked you over was extraordinarily self-satisfied.

His hand on your chin went to your robe instead, pulling the collar wide so that he could lower his mouth inside instead, kissing over your throat. You seized fistfuls of his suit, clinging to him, as he mapped a hot path across your shoulder and collarbone, one of his hands coming up to up your chest.

You heard yourself let out a soft hiss as his thumb pressed over your nipple through the silky fabric. Bakugou sucked a careful bruise into the side of your neck as he did it again, letting out a barely audible snort when you jerked in his hold, unconsciously arching into his hand.

“So sensitive for me, angel,” he drawled as his other hand came up to carefully pinch your other nipple.

You heard yourself make a small, choked off noise like a whine, and you could feel Bakugou’s lips pull into an answering smirk against your throat. You didn’t think you had been quite this responsive to a partner before—but something about the careful, purposeful way he was touching you had your blood running quicker in your veins.

Bakugou’s thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles over your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to make you groan. He teased you again and again as his mouth traced higher on your neck.

Within minutes you were panting, a slow, syrupy pleasure dripping down into your core.

Bakugou tugged your robe wider, then bent his head. You felt the tickle of his hair against your collarbone, softer than you would have thought, as his mouth closed over the point of one nipple. The draw of his mouth had you arching up into him immediately, pleasure zinging through your veins.

“Oh my god,” you said, seizing a fistful of that blonde hair.

Bakugou’s tongue teased at the nipple, and you writhed in his hold. Then he did the same to your other one, and you thought you might die. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you already wanted to crawl out of your skin with impatience.

“Katsuki—please,” you heard yourself say, almost distantly. “Katsuki—oh!”

“Please what, angel?” he said into the skin of your chest, before laying his mouth back over your nipple and giving a sweet suck.

“Oh my god—please!” you said, stupidly. Not an answer to his question but you’d forgotten how to string words together, your brain-to-mouth connection running on autopilot.

“Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart,” Bakugou said, and you heard the relish in it. Your face burned, and you yanked his hair a little more firmly. He just groaned, and then sucked you a little harder.

“Touch me! Please—Katsuki,” you panted out, hips flexing unconsciously with the pull of your nipple.

“Thought this was my gift, angel. I can’t enjoy it how I want?” he asked.

You considered his words muzzily, having no idea what he was talking about. Gift? What gift was he talking about?

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes flicked up to yours, and something in your expression must have told him you had no idea what he was on about. His mouth pulled up into a self-satisfied grin, and he leaned up to kiss you again.

You flattened yourself out against his chest, all but velcroing yourself to him. You wanted to feel every inch of that hard body against you, wanted to climb as far into him as you could. Something gratifyingly hard pressed against your stomach as you kissed him, and he grunted, locking you to him with a muscled arm across your back.

“Want me to touch you, angel?” he asked.

You nodded. A smile played across his lips.

“Get on the bed for me then, sweetheart.”

It took a minute for you to process but then you were scrambling to obey, scrabbling your way onto the bed, turning and watching as Bakugou stepped nearer.

He shed his jacket as he approached, yanking off his tie too and flinging it somewhere behind him. Then he crawled over you, his fingers seizing the ties of your robe as he did. He pulled it open gently, then yanked a little harder until the silk tie slid free.

His eyes picked over it speculatively, then flashed back up to you. A look of intent interest settled over his features.

“You ever been tied up before, angel?” he asked.

You shook your head, even as it swam with the implication. Your skin prickled, somehow growing even hotter. He didn’t mean to…?

“You gonna let me?” he asked.

You rather thought you would let him do anything he wanted with you. The question was barely out of his mouth before you were nodding hurriedly. A shocked laugh punched out of him, and he gathered up your wrists, scooting you backwards until they pressed against the headboard.

He looped the silk around your wrists, gathering it into a series of complicated knots. He moved with a purpose and precision, his movements sure and practiced. You tested the give of the ties when he sat back on his haunches, finding that they held firm, even when you put a little more muscle into it.

Bakugou’s gaze blazed over you, hot like coals. His eyes traced over your body, spread out under him now, your silk robe pooling at either side of you in a pink puddle.

He bent his head and kissed you again, until you were fuzzy with the feeling once more. Then he worked his way downwards, softly biting your shoulder, licking over one nipple, pressing deep kisses into your belly and then indent of your left hip.

A shock of pleasure raced through you when you realized where he was going with this, and you let out an involuntarily little gasp as he hooked your thighs over his broad shoulders.

“Katsuki,” you began, though you had no idea what you meant to follow it up with. Bakugou didn’t wait for you to finish, ducking his head and licking a hot stripe up the cleft of you.

Immediately you arched, thighs flexing under his hands. Your face heated when he laughed again, but any embarrassment was instantly forgotten when he licked over you again, slower and more deliberate this time.

“Oh my god,” you said again, biting off into a groan when his tongue dipped deeper between your folds, flicking up over your clit.

“Yeah, angel?” Bakugou asked, his voice a heady rasp. “You like that?” He layered another open mouthed kiss over you, slow and thorough, until you were arching up into his mouth again.

It would have been evident to anyone on earth how much you liked it from the noises you made, the way you kicked and squirmed with the movement of his mouth. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth, then laved over it firmly as he pressed his fingers to you, the pads of his index and middle slowly sinking into you.

Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when he gave another slow suck, the feeling almost too much. His fingers pressed deeper into you, easily slipping in with how comically wet you were for him. The gentle suction of his mouth made everything a million times better, everything a million times worse, as he carefully curled his fingers within you. He seemed to immediately find a spot within you that felt like he was touching your clit from the other side too, and the feeling was immediately far too much.

“Holy shit,” you heard yourself say, cutting off into an honest to god whine when his tongue swirled around your clit, just as he teased a finger along you from the inside too. “Katsuki—oh! Katsuki please! Please oh my god oh my god.”

Bakugou’s ministrations grew a fraction firmer, and you heard him groan too as he kissed you messily.

“So fucking hot for me, sweetheart. So sweet,” he said, then sucked again, a tiny bit harder this time. His fingers stroked you from the inside, a firm, deliberate rhythm that had you turning your face and muffling a keen into the meat of your arm.

Your hips flexed against his face, wild and uncontrolled, wanting less, more, not enough, too much, oh my god—

“Katsuki!” you cried, as you suddenly hit the crest of your pleasure. Your wrists pulled against their bonds, and the feeling of helpless restraint suddenly made everything feel a thousand times more intense. Every single nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, so that even the air of the room seemed too harsh on your skin. You screamed as you rode out your pleasure against Bakugou’s face.

He worked you through it diligently, licking and sucking until you collapsed back to the mattress, panting like you’d just run a marathon.

“Good, angel?” Bakugou asked.

You nodded breathlessly, turning your face to his when he crawled up your body to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on him was both embarrassing and thrilling, but Bakugou didn’t give you much leeway to consider it, kissing you into a stupid, pliant little puddle against the mattress.

You could feel him hard and hot against your hip as he did so, but he didn’t make any move to get inside you yet. Instead, his hands moved over you, slowly teasing you from satiation back into want. His fingers played with your nipples again, pinching them softly and rolling them. It felt like he'd rigged up some kind of wire, leading from your nipples right to your core, that lit the pilot flame of your interest again.

A couple minutes of diligent teasing, and easy, unhurried kisses had you wiggling under him again soon enough. It was only then, when you realized you were unconsciously rocking your hips against Bakugou’s, that he finally sat back to shuck off his shirt and pants.

He was so unfairly beautiful, bared in the bright light of the room. You’d known he was gorgeous, of course, but up close he was something else entirely. He was chiseled with thick muscle, his chest and arms hard and glowing faintly with perspiration. The light and the shadows of the room played over the divots of his muscles with a deliberate care, like he was a painting instead of a man, highlighting him in loving shades. A set of perfect abs trailed down into the hard jut of hip bones over his pelvis, and his cock was just as upsettingly gorgeous as the rest of him. It was thick and full and flush with his arousal, and he wasted no time crawling back between your thighs.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked. His voice had gone even more gravelly than usual, and it plucked at your core like a string.

“Please, Katsuki,” you said, your voice embarrassingly breathy. You couldn’t help yourself though, couldn’t be ashamed with the easy way your thighs fell apart for him. Your ankles hooked across his back, trying to pull him closer still.

He groaned and surged up over you to grab a condom off the nightstand. He quickly rolled it onto himself in one practiced movement, before immediately pressing himself into you.

He sank in mortifyingly easily, you already half out of your mind with want. He didn’t seem to mind, though—you heard the soft, sibilant hiss of his own pleasure as he filled you, and your robe tugged the skin of your shoulder as he fisted a hand in it, just beside your head.

“Been dying to fuck you, angel,” he said. “Thinking about how hot and tight and sweet you would be for me. Been thinking about it nonstop.”

You made a vague noise of agreement, moving your hips with his as he drew back and pressed inside of you again. The slide of him inside you was mind-numbingly good, the pressure against your stomach as he pressed back in almost sparking stars in your vision. The flex of his abs between your thighs as he found his pace was almost immediately too much for you, and you had to turn your face away. You tilted your face up to his, watching him as he watched you.

Bakugou seemed to read your expression easily, finding the angle and pace you liked incredibly quickly. He slid an arm under the small of your back to angle your hips up into him, yanking you up like you were nothing, and the show of easy strength had your toes flexing and curling against his back.

He kissed you again, catching the sounds of your pleasure in his mouth as he rocked into you. You moved against him, hips bucking, delirious with the feeling of him. Eventually he freed his arm from under you, pressing his thumb to your slit again with deadly precision.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned into his mouth, legs tightening on him as he played with your clit. The almost-too-gentle sensation of his thumb on your clit, coupled with the relentless drive of him inside you had your vision sparking and greying at the edges. His face swam in front of yours, and all of your limbs began to feel shivery, almost too weak to lift yourself into him the way you needed, to rock against him and find relief from the friction.

Bakugou continued to tease at you, carefully pinching and petting. His hips drove into you tirelessly, slapping the bottoms of your thighs, as you strained in your silk bonds, wanting to grab him, pull him even harder into you.

“Katsuki, please please please,” you heard yourself begging. You felt him smile against your mouth, tasted his reply more than heard it.

“You want me to let you cum, angel?” he asked, doing something with his fingers that made your breath catch in your lungs.

“Unhh, yes—please!” you cried, desperation coming over you in a white haze.

You had never—never—been so desperate for anything in your entire life. You didn’t know how Bakugou was doing it, why his touch felt like so much more than anything else you’d ever felt in your life. If he didn’t let you cum you were certain you were going to die, right here and right now.

“You gonna scream for me, sweetheart?” Bakugou asked, his voice raspier than you’d ever heard it. He grit the words out, like he too was on the edge of his own climax, barely staving it off.

“Anything, I will do anything,” you babbled senselessly. “Yes—going to scream for you—Katsuki!”

Bakugou’s gaze was hotter than you’d ever seen it, scarlet eyes clouded with pleasure, glowing like banked coals. “Then you can come for me, angel. Come on, sweetheart.”

“Oh!” you cried in answer, your feet planting themselves on the bed to jut your hips up hard. Bakugou’s thumb pressed hard against your clit, then, firm and merciless, and he fucked into you harder, his pace growing faster, furious.

Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, snapping your spine into alignment, locking all your limbs up as if in rigor mortis.

“Katsuki!” you wailed as you writhed against him, clenching and fluttering around him as you sobbed.

“Oh fuck,” you heard him say, and his hips stuttered. You realized he was coming too, fucking into you sloppily and disjointedly as he rode out his own pleasure. You arched and spasmed with him, clawing uselessly at the silk that bound you, twisting in blissful agony.

When you finally came back to yourself you found yourself slumped on the bed, Bakugou’s weight pinning you down into the mattress. His chest was slicked to yours with sweat, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of it against you as he caught his breath.

“That good, angel?” he asked, his voice heady with satisfaction.

You nodded, absently turning your face back up to his for a kiss. He granted it, kissing you almost possessively. He looked soft and rumpled, just the way you'd always liked him, and something in you purred with satisfaction at finally getting to have him like this for you.

Gradually, you became aware of other sounds in the room as you came down from your high. Quiet murmuring and the sounds of shuffling met your ears, the shutter click of a camera lens slicing through the atmosphere like a knife.

A sudden shock raced through you when you realized you and Bakugou were not alone—and you were on the set of a porn film, half a dozen eyes glued to you just over one of Bakugou’s thick shoulders.

A porn film. You had been shooting a porn film!

“And cut!” you heard the director’s voice ring out, like a bucket of water dumped over your head.

You tensed up beneath Bakugou, mind racing. Holy shit, he had actually managed to make you forget, exactly the way he'd promised.

You could tell Bakugou was thinking the same thing as he went to untie you, looking extremely satisfied with himself.

“Told you, angel,” he said, flashing something of a feral grin. You hated how good the self-conceit looked on him.

You went to draw your wrists back to yourself as he let them free. But Bakugou caught them instead, carefully massaging the skin there as if to make sure things were circulating properly. It was a startling note of unexpected care, as was the way he drew your robe closed around you again against the sudden chill of the room.

You found yourself saying wonderingly, “Wow. It was just that easy for you to switch partners like that.”

The thought somehow stung, even though you’d known going into this what you were getting yourself into. Somehow, the latent care and intention with which Bakugou had fucked you had addled your brain, made you think your connection had been something more. He had felt like he had feelings, beyond those mimed for the camera.

But here was evidence to the contrary, plain and simple. There literally was a camera.

Except then Bakugou looked down at you, a frown marring his pouty mouth. “Well yeah. ‘Course it was gonna be that easy when it’s you we’re talking about.”

You blinked at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Uh. When it’s—me?”

A crease came in between Bakugou’s blonde brows. “I said it, didn’t I? While we were fucking? Wanted to fuck you for a long time. Of course it was easy.”

Your stomach dropped, like a rug had just been yanked out from beneath you. “You—have? What? Since when?” you demanded.

Bakugou leveled you with an unimpressed stare. “Since the second time we met,” he said, and your mind flashed back to the way he’d seemed not to recognize you, that second time you'd spoken to him. “Once I realized you did work for UA and weren’t actually a little fucking creep trying to lure me into your car.”

You felt your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline. “Then—? For years? You cannot be serious. You never acted like we were anything other than coworkers!”

Bakugou scoffed. “We fucking were coworkers. And I told you, I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”

You blinked again, startled by the level of professionalism couched in the crassess of his statement. It made sense, you supposed, for a pornstar of Bakugou’s caliber to have put boundaries like that in place. Probably everyone in the world would just be dying for a shot at him.

“Wow,” you said, almost to yourself. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, wondered how it was going to be possible to behave professionally with Bakugou at all going forward. It was probably obvious to him how big your crush on him was, given that he’d known all along he could make you forget you were on camera. Given the way you reacted to him embarrassingly easily.

Except then Bakugou leaned forward, putting his face startlingly close to yours. “Emphasis on were, since this is my last shoot,” he said.

You stared at him, wondering if you were interpreting the implication correctly. There was no way he meant—?

“Uhhhh, meaning what, exactly?” you prompted, heart beating just a little bit quicker despite yourself.

Bakugou’s mouth turned up into a gorgeous smirk, and he ducked his head even closer, voice going softer.

“Meaning you’re going to get dressed and I’m going to take us to get something to eat,” he said, fingers playing at the edge of your robe. “And then you’re going to give me that ride home in your car after all. And we are going to do this all over again.”

Flames erupted across your face, sweeping across your cheeks. And you were up out of the bed before you even realized what you were doing, catching yourself on the bedside table as you stumbled.

Bakugou’s laugh chased out of the set room as you raced towards the wardrobe again. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, this time.

Not when your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. You smothered a smile as you ran down the hallway.

Much like Bakugou had just done to you—it looked like your hopes and dreams were finally lining themselves up and filling themselves in.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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awrkive · 3 days ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 4 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 17.1K words

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, alcohol consumption, misogyny 🫤, club fight... but also lots of screaming into your pillow moments part 2, oc goes twenty different emptions in like..one hour (my babyy😖) and uhhhhhh the biggest warning of them all: jungkook pov and the ending😖

NOTES pls pretend you didnt see that post earlier,, it was a testament to my failure lets forget about it anyway WE ARE SOOOO SOO BACK!! hope you guys enjoy this one and as usual, let me know what you think and lets chat!!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

“I’m coming home!” Were Jimin’s first words as soon as you answer his facetime invite.

With eyes barely open, you push your face deeper in the plush of your pillows, groaning.

“Jimin, it’s six am.”

“And?” Jimin dismisses. “We ought to celebrate!”

“I’m not even up yet.”

“So, you hate me.”

You let out a grumble, this time snapping your eyes fully open to see Jimin’s brow arched your way, his attitude reaching you even when you're a thousand miles apart. Classic Jimin.

“You’re a drama queen, and for the record, I got everything covered. Octagon, VIP area, 1 am. Dress slutty. Have fun, loosen up. Go crazy.”

“O– kay ,” Jimin says, chuckling in amusement at your flat tone with your deadpanned face. “God, I just can’t wait to go back. You will not believe all of the shit I’ll be telling you once I get there.”

You prop your phone on your nightstand and begin to stretch on your bed. “You better tell me you have Italian men’s IGs to refer to me.” you joke. Sleep is slowly starting to fade away from your system. Glancing at the wall clock from across the room, you take note it’s almost time to get ready for work.w

“Please,” he rolls his eyes. “As if you’re gonna respond when they do send you a DM.”

That earns an abrupt laugh from you. “I do respond, though.” you giggle. You stand up from the bed, carrying the phone with you as you head to the living room to prepare your breakfast.

“Babe, you’ve responded to two out of ten men I referred to you, and you ghosted two, by the way.”

You look at him in shock. “What, you supported me!”

“Still, though… ugh, the Wooseok guy still asks about you, by the way. It was literally so awkward when we met at that– I forgot, but it was a party.”

You cringe internally, and it probably translates to your face because you hear Jimin laughing from the other side of the line. Shaking your head, you tell Jimin, “Nope– not gonna feel sorry. He was weird as fuck, and I genuinely think – still to this day – that he’s a fury.”

Jimin’s expression morphs into distaste. “Yeah, no, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true based on the stories you told me but I swear to you he felt like a normal person to me when we first met.” You and Jimin both gave each other a knowing smile; pursed lips and a scrunched nose, already getting where both your heads are at. But Jimin swerves to the next subject smoothly, “Anyway, I see your apartment’s all fixed, considering you’re there.”

You light up at the mention and nod. Looking around, you can’t help the smile that spreads over your lips, thinking that finally, it’s all okay now. Like nothing even happened.

“Oh, yeah. It actually is.” you say, enthusiasm apparent in your voice.

“You know you could’ve stayed at my place, right?”

You give him a dismissive wave of your hand, despite smiling still, appreciating the offer regardless. You know you could’ve and that he wouldn’t have minded, but, “Yeah, no, I didn’t want to impose.”

That earns an instant eye roll from Jimin, followed by a scoff, “You’re literally my blood sister.”

“I know! But remember when I had to stay over at your place for three days earlier this year because of some gas leak…” you bring it up, “I swear this complex is out to get me.”

“You need to move out.”

The impassive look you give him is almost warranted.

“And you need to give me a new job for that.”

Jimin snickers. “... which would be quite ironic because I don’t even have one in the first place.”

You know it’s a bummer subject but since he mentioned it, anyway, you decide to ask, “How’s the training going, by the way? Pretty sure Ms. Lim has blown up your phone over the course of your absence.” Ms. Lim is the PR head of their company, and Jimin instantly sours at the mention of her name.

With a grimace, he completely shuts down the subject. “I don’t even wanna talk about it.”

You give him a sympathizing smile before Jimin picks up the conversation with a more not-so-bummer subject. He asked you how work has been, and he told you all about the places he and Namjoon went to in Italy. He asked about your thing with Taemu, and you could only give him a sheepish smile, one that he chastised you for because “how dare you keep slutty information from me!” . You almost feel bad because it wasn’t that at all, but because you didn’t want to dig deeper into your own grave, you decided to change the topic and talked about how you two are going to spend the night later on when you meet, and soon, you had to end the call so you can catch your bus.

Jimin has always told you you’re a bad liar. You couldn’t lie even if your life depended on it. But you do it, anyway, even though many instances have already proved the notion right, and one of them presents itself now.

“Sol, I have a question.” You feel bad for your lip as you have to nibble on it for what seemed to be the nth time for the day, treading on your thoughts lightly as Sol turns to look at your side to acknowledge you.

She casts one last glance on her computer before saying, “Is it controversial?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, ask Junhwi,” that earns an eye roll from you instantly, making Sol snicker a quiet laughter. “Kidding. What is it?”

You’re currently on your lunch break, and what’s the harm in talking about a few things in your head that’s been keeping you up all night these past few days?

“Okay…” you begin, making sure to look around and confirm nobody’s listening. They probably are not and couldn’t care less either. “So this happened to a friend.” you say, as if putting out a disclaimer, gauging Sol’s face for a reaction.

There wasn’t much. She just raised an intrigued brow, “Uh-huh.”

How do you even begin?

“So… she’s kind of talking to this guy,” you start, furrowing your brows, actively thinking about your choice of words. Your friend hums and you continue, “Then one time, this guy sort of like– she’s not exactly sure, but he kind of… tried to kiss her?” You didn’t mean for that to sound so unsure.

With the way Sol’s brow has arched way more at that, you imagine she’s noticing your hesitance in speaking about this in the first place.

“How do you kind of try to kiss a person?”

“Like, they were hugging. Or whatever–” you try to not let yourself be too descriptive, but in the process of that, pictures of that night come flashing in your head. Against your better judgement, there’s heat that creeps up in your cheeks when you get your next words out, “The guy just, uh, swooped down for a kiss. I mean, he was supposed to go for a kiss. But then the girl– my friend– dodged it. So basically, nothing happened.”

“Why? She doesn’t like him?”

“That…” Sol probably didn’t mean to but she definitely catches your tongue with the question. You lean back, blinking at her. “I… hah . That’s the… thing. I think… she likes him. But she’s not sure. I think she’s having second thoughts… but to be honest I think she has a crush on the guy but she’s trying to pull herself away from it but then she can’t do it because things are starting to feel a little different.” You let out one heavy puff after you spit the monologue out in one breathing. If Sol was already looking at you weird a few seconds ago, you’re now convinced you’ve unknowingly grown another head behind you. But you continue anyway. “... what does all of that mean?”

“O… kay,” She says, sounding a little uncertain. She turns her body to you now completely. With the way she scoots her chair closer to you, leaning forward and hunching to be in your earshot, you realize she’s actually just become more invested. “Babe, you have to walk me through this like I’m five. So you and this guy are talking, you have a crush on him, and then he tried to kiss you, but you dodged it. Right?”

“Yeah! Something like that–” and upon realizing that you walked into a trap without even that much effort coming from her, your eyes widen while your friend just grins at you like she knew that was coming. You shake your head vehemently. “Wait, no, no, no. It’s not me.”

Sol rolls her eyes. Your shoulders deflate.

You see, Jimin is always right about everything. When he told you you suck ass at lying and you should never try it, he was just looking out for you. And why are you so surprised when these past few weeks, all your lies have blown up right in your face? And at the most inconvenient times and places too, at that – if seeing Jungkook at Jimin’s mom’s birthday party and seeing him in your company’s elevator is anything to go by.

“Alright, it’s me.” you say with a defeated tone.

Sol stares at you with her squinted eyes. “You whore. Who’s the guy?”

And how are you supposed to say it’s Jeon Jungkook, the one who’s like seven floors above you, the son of the president of the very company you’re currently working in right now, and the interim CTO as of the moment and then expect her to believe you?

So you shrug, shaking your head. “It’s not anyone you know.”

“Well, thank god! I don’t know anyone who’s decent enough to date any of my friends!” You’re about to thank the heavens when you thought she wouldn’t dig too much into that, but then she adds, “Show me a pic.” She excitedly huddles closer to you, looking right at your phone on your desk.

Well, no.

“Nah, that’s not relevant to the issue at hand. And… the whole thing’s not even serious–” A blatant lie, but you carry through, “And the… almost-kiss happened, like, two days ago and I’m still–” you cut yourself off with a pained groan, which makes Sol look at you with concern. You purse your lips into a thin line, then. “We were actually drinking at his place together. So we were both kind of drunk? Though that was me mostly. I’m thinking, maybe, I misjudged the whole thing or worse, I just imagined it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s way too elaborate and your feelings about this feels way too real to just come from an imagination. You said he tried to kiss you, right?” She grazes you with a gentle nudge on the arm.

“Maybe?”

“What do you mean, maybe?”

“I don’t know. It was just weird. I swear he tried to kiss me, but I could be wrong. I couldn’t think of reasons for him to try to do that. And I don’t even know why I avoided it in the first place.” You say with a frown, and then sighing when you realize your own thought process doesn’t make any sense.

“Well, what happened after?”

You grimace. “I told him we should probably sleep,” You remember him carrying you to his bedroom – and as per your shameless request, at that. You intentionally leave that out because even you cannot comprehend what it meant. Why did Jungkook do all that? And did he , really? Or you just somehow deluded yourself into thinking that there is more to his actions rather than what they really are on the surface? “He was just like… he laughed it off, then that was the last of it. I slept in his room alone, and the morning after, I went out because he wasn’t there anymore. Went to work early.”

Sol gasps. “Oh brother…”

Your heart begins to hammer at her tone.

“What.”

“He hasn’t reached out after that night?”

You wince, and not because of what she thinks it’s for.

“He actually did,” Sol looks at you in question, rightfully so. You nibble on your bottom lip before elaborating, “So a few days before that happened, he bought me a couch cushion. And then he texted me if I wanted it because I didn’t bring it with me when I left his apartment.”

You can see Sol’s confusion beginning to draw on her face. “I’m sorry, he bought you a what?”

“A cushion.”

It takes her a few seconds to form a response. “You know what, I’m not even gonna ask why. But you know what I’m very certain of right now?”

“... what?”

“You should’ve married him on the spot.”

“What?”

Sol snickers an overjoyed laugh, clearly pleased with herself at your incredulous reaction. “No, it totally makes sense, trust me. But okay. Then what happened after? What did you say to his text?” You stare at each other for awhile, with Sol smiling brightly, obviously expecting you to say something good. You grind your teeth to avoid cringing as you brace yourself for what’s to come, and as if realizing that from your face, Sol frowns. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t replied to him!”

You can’t help but wince. “Would you hate me if I confirm that?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, damn. I can’t help you.”

“Ugh…” You groan, bringing your palms to your cheeks, pouting at her, feeling sort of defeated at this point.

Sol dramatically holds one hand out, giving it an upward flick as if to tell you you’re being ridiculous for not seeing a point so clearly soon. “Obviously, this guy likes you! That man wants to fuck you ten ways to Sunday but also wants to wife you up and pay your mortgage in straight cash as well as your water and electricity bills. And he’d most likely set up your nonexistent kids’ trust funds the first month into the marriage because he just wants to make sure.”

Your jaw drops. “Okay…? Now you’re doing too much.”

She rolls her eyes in response, as if what she said is a totally normal response.

“You’re dense, it’s crazy. You couldn’t think of a reason why he tried to kiss you? Listen, why would you want to kiss someone? Because you like them. Of course he likes you! And he asked you about the cushion because he probably didn’t want to bombard you with questions about what happened the previous night. It shows he still wants to keep whatever it is you have going on.”

You sigh, seeing her point. “I… know.”

“You don’t wanna make a move? I mean, you seem to really like him.” Sol says, looking at your face. You give her a slight nod, feeling that there’s no use denying that.

But…

“I can’t, though.” you say, pursing your lips.

Frowning, Sol tilts her head in genuine confusion. “Why?”

“Because he’s…” you try to think of any adjectives to describe Jungkook. He’s… charming. Kind. Smart. Funny, in his own little way. So down to earth. Handsome. Pretty. Tall. Really… big– muscly in all the right ways. But those things are not helpful to justify your case on why you don’t want to pursue… whatever it is you two have going on. Because as much as the sole memory of him holding your waist while he leaned down to your face caressing your cheeks in the way he softly did, his cologne wafting your senses into dysfunction, he’s still someone that you just can’t get involved with. “He’s just really out of my league.”

A few beats. Then, Sol raises her eyebrow.

“That’s it?” Sol asks, “That’s the big reveal?”

“... Yeah?”

“Honey, a man can never be out of any woman’s league.”

“I–” you crack a chuckle, rolling your eyes but smiling anyway. “I know what you mean. But he’s genuinely really out of an average person’s league, I’m telling you.”

“What, does he have a Nobel prize or something?”

You laugh, nudging Sol. She mirrors your laughter.

When you settle down into silence again, you tell her, “He’s a… he’s really nice and sweet, though he doesn’t have a Nobel prize–” you roll your eyes playfully when Sol laughs again. “But yeah, I don’t know. I’m still… confused about my own feelings. I’ve always had a crush on him ever since I first met him, and I just always kind of shrugged it off? But ever since that night… I’ve been feeling weird. And I haven’t talked to him, haven’t replied to any of his texts yet. You know how non confrontational I am and it gets really bad, but I just genuinely don’t know how to approach this. The whole thing is confusing.”

Sol gives you a sympathetic smile. “I get that.”

Nodding, you continue speaking your thoughts, “You know the thing about nice guys… it’s that, they’re so nice that you can’t figure out if you just put yourself into a deep psychosis where they care about you more than they do with other people. And it’s like, yeah, it’s nice that he’s sweet, but what if he’s just like that with everybody?”

“You mean you think he also tries to kiss everybody?” Sol quips.

You chuckle. She got you there. “Come on.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder, Sol gently says. “I think what you need to do right now is just be honest to yourself first. Really try to figure out if you like this guy romantically or not.”

“That’s the thing, I just genuinely don’t know. I like the idea, maybe?”

She nods. “Then just enjoy the flow for the meantime? I do think there’s something in there, though.”

“Really?” you didn’t mean to perk up at that but you did, anyway, making Sol smile, even though she doesn’t point that out.

“Of course I won’t know completely. Unless you show me this guy…”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry about this gossip turned into bummer stuff. I know it’s depressing.”

“I don’t mind,” She shrugs coolly. “You listen to my boy problems all the time. And Jimin can suck on my plastic dick but you’re my best friend too.”

Your laughter becomes louder, but you tone it down just as instantly, slapping Sol lightly.

“Anyway, speaking of the devil, he actually invited you to come along later. We’re going for drinks at the Octagon.”

“Ohh,” Sol says in intrigue. But then she pouts sadly. “I wanna go. But Junhwi and I have a thing later,” You’re quiet for a while. When Sol sees your expression– your very bad attempt at a neutral expression– she rolls her eyes, knowing what you’re probably thinking. “Don’t even start.”

“What! I didn’t even say anything.”

“It’s a work thing.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.”

You laugh. “Whatever, Sol.”

She rolls her eyes again. “Whatever, too. Drink your hearts out, by the way.”

You shrug. “Nah, I’m probably not gonna drink that much.”

“Jimin, I’m starting to feel dizzy”

Jimin laughs, stepping closer to you while still swaying his body to the music playing in the club. He looks at the tequila in your hand – your third one for the night in the span of an hour… and thirty minutes? He tried to stop you from getting it, but you swore you can handle it and you can, you know you can, but maybe you’re not too sure about that anymore as you’re beginning to feel a little light on your feet.

“What happened to you saying you weren’t in the mood for drinking tonight?” He arches a brow.

You groan, sounding more like a whine. “What’s up with these tequilas! If I get alcohol poisoning, is the club going to pay for it?”

“They won’t. I’ll have to haul your ass to the ER myself.”

“You can’t even do that because I know you’re three drinks away from tripping on your face.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully. “No, I’m not. Unlike you I don’t have the tolerance of a freshman college girl,” He gets a hold of you when he’s closer, linking your arms together to guide you to your table, where you left Namjoon as per his insistence for you to enjoy yourselves on the dancefloor and catch up. Jimin said his boyfriend is actually leaving soon the next two days, so they’re making it count every hour, you guess. “Come on, I need to introduce you to someone. I’m pretty sure he’s arrived now.”

You halt on your steps and look at Jimin alarmingly. “Who is it? I told you I’m hitting it off with Taemu these days.” The lie sits heavy on your tongue but Jimin calls bullshit right away.

“Is the hitting it off in the room with us when you just told me you literally do not care like just awhile ago?”

You let yourself follow Jimin’s steps as you mumble, “Fine.”

Maybe the tequila had let your tongue slip that information. Great. Now you can’t use Taemu as a shield when Jimin asks about your lovelife.

But anyway, it’d be good, right? Meeting other people tonight? It’s been long since you dated somebody. And it would definitely be good for you if you talk to them as soon as now to forget certain things. Certain things like a certain somebody with the long, fluffy, brunette hair whose eyes speak the language of the moon and whose smile gives you the feeling of seeing ten puppies and twenty kittens all at once but at the same time makes you want to whip all your hair out because he casually does things like make your heart hammer in your chest at an abnormal pace by one, brief touch and then try to kiss you and laughs it off when you dodge it and tell him you’re sleepy. Like he doesn’t mind that you may want things to go… slow.

But fuck. You’re supposed to avoid thinking about him. Not tonight. Not when Jimin’s apparently introducing you to somebody.

You’re not into rebounds or shit like that, and you’re not cruel to use somebody to move on from someone else – but maybe it’s only a matter of time before you dig your own grave too deep by prisoning yourself in the specific thoughts of a certain someone and you’d find it too late to move on.

So, yeah, it’d definitely be a good thing to meet and talk to other people right now.

And you’re sure whoever Jimin is having you meet with tonight is nice, anyway.

From afar, you can see your table and the familiar figure of Namjoon’s figure facing towards your direction. You’re about to wave so he can see you and Jimin approaching but you notice another frame across his seat. Namjoon and the unknown person (who is judging from the back is definitely a man) is presumably the one Jimin is meaning to introduce you to, and your best friend mentions it right away beside you.

“Oh, that’s him!” Jimin yelps, excitement filling his words. You look at him and before you realize it, you’re already near the table. You’re just about to ask who it is, forgetting to do so during your walk, when Namjoon suddenly gestures to you both in recognition; dimples showing even in the dim lighting as he smiles at you two. He glances back at the guy in front of him, who as a result, turns his body to look in your direction.

And what. The. Actual. Fuck.

How many times – how many fucking times are you going to see Jeon Jungkook in the most inconvenient places?

Can you somehow make yourself disappear at the speed of light? Did Einstein ever figure that out and the US government just fabricated a lie that he implied that very act was contrary to the law of Physics so people don’t attempt it?

Because as of now, you could have used that trick.

Jungkook looks stricken in his seat for a solid beat until Jimin comes crashing into him, greeting the man enthusiastically.

“Jeon Jungkook, the man himself!” Jimin says, spreading open his arms, grinning widely. You can see Namjoon smiling at both of them, and you watch as Jungkook stands up from the couch to meet Jimin’s half-hug. Jimin pulls back a little. “I thought you wouldn’t make it tonight.”

Jungkook chuckles, giving Jimin a light pat on the back. “Nah,” he says with a grin. “I wanted to make time to see you.” You try not to linger on the way his biceps subtly flex under the slim long-sleeve tee he’s wearing, its sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing a hint of the veins tracing his forearms. It draws your attention to your ensemble – a sparkly cropped halter top that leaves much of your midriff exposed, paired with a mini skirt. You’ve seen each other in towels before, sure, but somehow, being around each other like this feels different… no?

“This is __,” Jimin says, gesturing to you and looping an arm through yours to pull you closer. “You know her.”

Your eyebrow shoots up, and you instantly look at Jimin in quiet surprise. Before you can say anything, Jungkook lets out a deep chuckle. The sound drawls your gaze back to him, and for a second, your eyes meet.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he extends a hand towards you. His voice is… quite charming when he adds, “I heard a lot about you.”

You hesitate for a moment before taking his hand, unsure if it’s just the alcohol coursing through your system or something else entirely, but the second his sizable hand engulfs yours; a warmth shoots straight to your cheeks. His grip is firm yet gentle.

You swear the handshake lingers a beat too long.

“Good things, I hope?” you quip, managing a small smile despite the odd flutter in your chest.

“Lots of good things.” Jungkook replies with a nod, his gaze steady.

“Yeah?”

His eyes don’t waver, and somehow, you find yourself holding his stare longer than you intended until he arches a brow slightly, the subtle expression earning a small, involuntary tug on your lips. Jungkook doesn’t miss that and mirrors the gesture just as indiscreetly, head dipping in a barely-there nod to respond to you.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad, then,” You turn to look at Jimin to avoid letting the moment stretch further, unintentionally picking your voice up an octave higher – a small nervous habit because there was something that flashed on Jimin’s face witnessing both your and Jungkook’s interaction. “Anyway, I’m so glad we finally met! Jimin’s always mentioned you to me and all that stuff. Hey, Jimin, this is great! Joon, you guys know each other?” You say, desperate to divert the attention and glancing at Namjoon.

He nods with an easy-going smile. “Yeah, we went to the same post-grad uni together in Cali.”

Jimin perks up and slides over beside Namjoon, who immediately drapes an arm around him in a half-hug, letting him lean against his shoulder. “Jungkook’s actually the one who introduced us.” Jimin says, glancing fondly at Namjoon.

You blink in surprise. “Really?” Awkward as you may feel about the whole thing, you’re also genuinely surprised about the new information. You think you remember Jimin saying somebody introduced someone to him when he and Namjoon started, but you didn’t think it was his cousin.

“Yep,” Jimin nods, and Namjoon chuckles softly beside him.

The two of them are now comfortably seated on the couch, leaving the only open spot directly across from them. Before you can decide whether to sit or keep standing, Jungkook gestures subtly toward the available seat, his expression unreadable. You step forward hesitantly, only to realize he’s following right behind you.

Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his proximity. Fuck. Even though he isn’t sitting that close, the scent of his cologne – clean, warm, and annoyingly alluring – wraps around you like a second presence. Why does he always have to smell good? You try not to fidget as you glance back at Jimin.

Your best friend grins as he leans on his elbows, looking between you and Jungkook. “I’ve always wanted you two to meet, you know? This is perfect! I was trying to keep it a surprise.”

“Oh, it’s a surprise alright.” you mutter, forcing a laugh.

“Pleasantly surprised.” Jungkook adds, his tone light, though the way his lips quirked upward makes your heart race.

Jimin laughs and there’s a tinge of evilness to it, and you know full well he did this intentionally. Why, you don’t even know. He’s just like that for no reason. You’re gonna kill him.

“You’re still staying at Hannam, right, Jungkook?” Jimin asks suddenly.

You freeze on the spot, and you hope no one notices.

Jungkook takes a moment before answering, his voice calm and casual. “Yes, still there. Why?”

Wait… what?

Jimin nods. “Surprised you’re managing there. Thought you wouldn’t last a month.”

Namjoon laughs. “Yeah, Yoongi hates that place.”

Beside you, Jungkook lets out a soft laugh. “Nah, it’s fine for now.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to let your surprise show. He’s lying – and you know you told him straight up to not tell Jimin about you two knowing each other yet, but you didn’t know he’d make good on his promise. It’s a small thing, but it makes your chest tighten in ways you’re not ready to unpack.

Surprisingly, the conversation starts to flow easily among the four of you. Jungkook asks Namjoon about his work in Italy, and at first, you find it hard to engage in it casually because you can’t shrug off the fact that you’re in such a casual setting with your co-worker– and not just a regular co-worker at that, but an executive at your company; but the relaxed atmosphere starts to chip away at your tension. Jimin cracks a joke, breaking any unease, and soon you’re laughing along, listening as he shares his own experiences in Italy as well. Jungkook jumps in with his own joke you can’t even recall now, and the sound of his laugh is infectious enough to make you smile.

Switching between fruit punch and water helps ease the lingering buzz of tequila in your system, though it doesn’t fully clear your head.

“Fuck,” Jimin suddenly hisses, grabbing everyone’s reaction. “Need to go to the bathroom.”

The words feel like confetti in your ears; the sun is up again, and the gates of heaven open upon you.

“I’ll come with you!” You blurt out, sounding overly enthusiastic. You feel the stares of Jungkook and Namjoon but you choose to ignore them, focusing on Jimin instead.

Your best friend sends you a suspicious look, but after a pointed stare and a forced smile on your end, he relents. “Alright.”

When you stand up, you make a misstep and you stumble a little on your feet.

Concerned sounds erupt from both Namjoon and Jimin, but before they can do anything, an arm shoots up around your waist, with another one wrapping around your wrist to steady you.

It’s Jungkook. The warmth that suddenly surrounds your skin is Jungkook – seated by the edge of the same couch you’re on, he managed to quickly catch you mid-fall.

“Here.” He murmurs, almost a whisper, helping you stand up straight.

You blink, stunned at the warmth that envelopes you at that moment.

“T-thanks.” you stammer when he lets go, the sudden absence of his touch leaving your skin colder than you expected. You shake off the feeling, glancing at Namjoon and Jimin to gauge their reactions, but they just look like usual when they see you’re okay.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook smiles gently, sipping from his drink. A non-alcoholic beer, you suppose. He gestures to the cleared space in front of him, and you awkwardly stand up, taking a few steps while trying not to graze him. He’s polite enough to avert his gaze, sparing you further embarrassment when you quite literally have the front of your body going all up on his face while you maneuver past the table.

“Careful next time!” Jimin teases lightheartedly, interlocking his arms around you when you get near him. “We’ll be right back.” he adds, glancing at the guys as you both walk away.

Once you’re out of earshot, you pull Jimin at a corner and grab his arm tightly. “Oh my god, Jimin,” You start, looking around one more time. “That was my freaking boss!”

As if not understanding the weight of the situation, Jimin rolls his eyes. “He’s not your boss, he’s just some guy.”

“Some guy who happens to be an executive at the company I work in? This is the most awkward night of my life!”

“Babe, I know that. But just try not to think so much about it. It’s just Jungkook – we’re all out here as friends. You and he didn’t meet here as coworkers or whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

“To you , but to me this is just… not…” you trail off, fishing for the right word. “.... appropriate.”

A groan escapes Jimin’s mouth at that, and you know your wording was a bit exaggerated but you can’t help it. This whole thing is insane. You can’t believe you’re meeting and you’re hanging out with Jungkook in the presence of his cousin who also happens to be your best friend.

“Okay, you know what? Try to think about it like this: that guy right there–” he points to the general direction of your table, then looks at you seriously in the eyes. “That’s not your interim CTO. That’s just a guy I grew up with very closely who I used to order around when he was a baby.”

“Jimin.” you roll your eyes at him.

He insists. “No, really, that’s true! Just think of him as some sort of friend, please? I’ve been really wanting for you guys to meet and anyway, it seems like you like him and he likes you! Why worry about anything?” He takes your wrists and gives you the best puppy eyes ever he always sports when he wants something, and this time you let out a defeated sigh.

Thinking of Jungkook as Jimin’s younger cousin does help put things into perspective– it’s a bit of mental gymnastics, sure, but it works. Suddenly, the idea of meeting him in a nightclub doesn’t seem so strange. And you really do appreciate Jimin’s excitement about your meeting. After all, as he put it, having his Favorite Person On Earth (which, according to a very reliable source: you) and his Favorite Cousin meet is a big deal for him.

“Okay, fine. But just know if this happens to you – like imagine meeting up with Ms. Lim at a nightclub – I’ll be laughing at your damn face.”

Jimin snickers a laugh, and you both continue your way to the restroom.

“But you know what I think?” he suddenly says, breaking the silence.

You raise a brow at him in curiosity. “What?”

He grins mischievously. “What you said earlier – it’s inappropriate but hear me out. Jungkook is exactly your type.”

“Excuse me, what? ”

“No, okay, listen!” He raises his palms as if to plead his case and begins listing every trait that apparently aligns Jungkook with your type. “He’s a tech guy. He would usually wear glasses – and don’t even try to deny again that you don’t have a thing for it, girl – and he’s objectively attractive, as far as straight men go.”

With every word, your jaw drops a little more.

“What are you even talking about?” You ask, utterly dumbfounded.

Jimin squints at you, feigning suspicion. “He has my genes, __, you don’t think he’s attractive?”

“First off,” you start, rolling your eyes, “that would mean I find you attractive, which is gross and absolutely not true. You’re like my brother,” Jimin only laughs, clearly entertained, so you double down. “Second I don’t exclusively date tech guys, okay? Jesus Christ. And I definitely don’t have a thing for men in eyeglasses. What is wrong with you.”

Jimin just stands there, squinting his eyes more at you with that infuriatingly inquisitive expression. You do your best to hold a neutral face under his scrutiny.

“You got that pondering look,” Jimin concludes with a victorious smirk. “You’re totally thinking about it!”

You gasp, scandalized. “You’re unbelievable, Jimin. That’s your cousin and my boss!–”

He bursts out into laughter. “I’d say something about how defensive you’re getting, but I’m too drunk and really need to pee.”

You swat at his arm, following his steps anyway. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

Your best friend throws you a teasing glance. “For the record, Jungkook’s only thirty. Not that old, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh my god, for the last time, I am not thinking about your cousin!” You swear you’re gonna kill him, and then yourself.

“Boohoo. What, you can’t date your friend’s relatives?” Jimin muses with a teasing tone.

“Yes, Jimin, it’s called boundaries,” you snap. Jimin still wouldn’t drop the malicious gaze, making you groan. Just how far is the restroom here? “Seriously, that’s completely unethical. I would never date any relative of yours, let alone if they’re my boss.”

Jimin starts cackling, clearly enjoying how worked up you are. “ Unethical ? Come on, you’re gonna get punished for premarital sex, anyway. Might as well date your boss while you’re at it.”

You hate that he’s so damn funny, even when he’s being a complete pain. Despite yourself, you can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous retort.

“Fuck off. I hope your bladder explodes.” you mutter.

Jimin’s laughter echoes around you, but finally, the restroom comes into view.

“Relax,” he says between chuckles. “I’m only joking. Jungkook h—”

Before he can finish, someone barrels into you – quite hard that you almost fall on your feet.

Instinctively, you let out a hurried, “Oh! I’m so sorry—”

“Watch where you’re fucking going, bitch.”

The words take a second to register. Your shoulder throbs where they collided with you, but before you can react, Jimin steps forward.

“Excuse me?” your best friend snaps, his tone sharp.

The stranger doesn’t miss a beat, sneering as he looks you up and down. His gaze lingers far too long on your chest, making your stomach churn.

“I said what I said.” he replies, completely unapologetic.

“Hey, that’s not cool, man. Just apologize to her, you hit her pretty hard.” Jimin says, positioning himself slightly in front of you as though to shield you from the man.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” The man scoffs. “The little princess slut needs her knight and shining armor—”

Your patience snaps. “What the hell did you just call me?” You demand, stepping around Jimin.

The man smirks and takes a step closer. “What are you gonna do about it, slut?”

Jimin grabs your arm, trying to hold you back.

“Back off, man. I’m calling security.”

The tension in the air crackles, and you can feel the adrenaline surging in your veins. “Let go, Jimin,” you mutter, pulling free from his grip. You take a step forward, looking the man dead in the eye. “You think I’m scared? You get all up in our personal space calling me names and you think we’ll run for our lives after, huh?”

You watch as the smugness gets wiped out of his face instantly. He doesn’t form a response right away, just gawks at you as if he can’t believe you’re facing him off. Your brows shoots up at him.

This is the problem with assholes. They think they can intimidate you, especially men, but when confronted, they go back to their shells looking dumb as fuck.

“You slut. Do you know who I am?” The man raises his hand, shoving your shoulder hard enough to make you stagger.

At this point, you’re fuming. What the fuck is this guy’s problem?

Before you can retaliate, Jimin lunges forward, pushing the man back, just as he forceful as he did to you. “Don’t fucking touch her!” Jimin yells, his voice rising above the growing murmur of the crowd. “This is straight-up harassment and you can fuck off when the security kicks you out of here. Fuckin’ pussy.” With that, Jimin tugs your arm, already turning on his heel to go to the opposite reaction, ready to leave. But all of a sudden, the other guy goes for a punch, and it lands right on Jimin’s cheek.

You gasp audibly.

Onlookers get more intrigued, and you don’t have it in you to think straight when your brain decides to go in between two men fighting. In the hopes of getting Jimin out of the way, you step in only to get elbowed on the jaw by the stranger when your best friend swings at the guy back; your reflexes not fast enough to avoid it

You can’t focus on the pain when panic arises upon the growing scene before you.

“Jimin, stop!” You exclaim, trying to grab the back of his shirt. But the stranger only retaliates, and the whole thing is starting to blow out of proportion.

“Hey! What is going on here?”

You whip around to see Namjoon striding toward the commotion, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. Relief floods through you as he reaches you just in time to pull Jimin away. Two security guards arrive on the scene, stepping between Jimin and the man to break up the fight.

“What is your problem, man?” Namjoon scowls at the guy, wrapping his arm around Jimin. You hurry to them and help him assist your best friend, holding his shoulder.

“Ask him and that fucking girlfriend of his. It’s that bitch’s fault! Do you even fucking know who I am?”

Your eyes widen at the accusation.

You gape at him, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You ran into me, started cussing me out, shoved me two times and punched my frie—”

“Enough!” one of the security guards cuts in, his tone firm. He turns to the man. “Mr. Yang, please step aside so we can sort this out.”

Jungkook appears just then, his gaze scanning the scene with confusion. “What the hell happened here?”

“Jungkook.” you sigh at the sight of him, getting a second rush of relief upon seeing both him and Namjoon here.

Jungkook steps closer to you, looks at your state, and instinctively hovers an arm around your waist, concern growing on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, glancing at Jimin. “But he’s not.”

“Jimin got into a fight,” Namjoon explains, his voice tight. “I’m taking him to the hospital. Can you handle this?”

Jimin groans in Namjoon’s arms. “Oh my god, Joon, I’m literally fine—” Jimin rolls his eyes when his boyfriend only looks at him with a deepened frown.

Namjoon looks at Jungkook again. “Can you take care of this for me, Kook? I’ll drive both of us to a hospital nearby. __, I’ll take Jimin there first before driving you home. Is that okay?”

Although not unusual, your eyes widen at the offer. You quickly shake your head to decline.

“Oh, no. It’s fine. I’ll grab a taxi or something… just please take Jimin to the hospital first.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s dangerous–” Before Jimin could say the words, Jungkook speaks.

“I’ll take her,” All three of you look at him and he doesn’t even faze. “I took my car and I didn’t drink tonight so I’m okay to drive. __, just tell me your address.”

Your head shakes vehemently. You’ve already been a big nuisance thanks to that asshole back there who’s talking with security.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I really don’t want to bother–”

“It’s not safe for you to be alone right now, __,” he says with a frown, and he sounds so sincere that it makes you bite your lip to prevent saying any protest again. He does have a point. “Joon, you can go. We’ll talk it out with security in the meantime.”

“Alright, thanks, man.” Namjoon pats his shoulder. “Take care of her, okay? She drank a lot.” He informs Jungkook who just nods. And then off they go after Namjoon talked for a while with the other security.

You want to face-palm yourself.

Soon, a man in uniform approaches you and Jungkook. As if in reflex, Jungkook steps closer to you.

“Mr. Yang said you said some – what he called, “abusive language” – to him, Miss. Is that true?”

Your eyebrows crease in confusion as you look at “Mr. Yang” in disbelief.

“No, I didn’t. He was the one who started calling me names and swung at my friend first.” You defend, upset.

The security just looks over at you impassively with an almost monotonous voice, as if talking to you is a nuisance and taking too much of his time. “He said your friend threw the first punch. Mr. Yang is a valued customer—”

“I’m sorry, but aren’t I and my friend customers too? We–”

“There’s no going around it, miss. Your friend started a fight and you initiated a commotion which is prohibited in this place, especially in the VIP area. Mr. Yang is currently talking to his lawyers to press charges against you and your friend.”

Press what now?

“Press charges?” Jungkook can’t help but butt in. He changes his stance beside you and you see exactly how the security backs off a little, the boredom on his face while talking to you seconds ago slipping when Jungkook continues to say, “Did you hear what she said? Mr. Yang started the fight with verbal intimidation and made it physical. The other guy, her friend, just retaliated. How are you purposefully glossing over that detail?”

“Sir, Mr. Yang just told the story–”

“You mean his side of the story. Aren’t you supposed to ensure everyone’s safety here? Or does being a valued customer excuse harassment and violence?”

The security completely falters under Jungkook’s stare and words.

And you grow livid.

“Excuse me, sir,” You start, stepping out to get closer to him. You keep your voice leveled when you speak further, “I’m gonna tell you this more time. He, Mr. Yan or whatever his name is, started the whole thing. He bumped into me hard and I have the shoulder pain to prove you that. I said sorry, even though he should’ve said it too, but then he didn’t and started to cuss me out instead and called me names . My friend stepped in because he was trying to intimidate me physically and verbally. He threw the first punch, and my friend just retaliated,” you said with conviction, not shaking even once. When the security opens his mouth to say something, you beat him to it. “And tell your valued customer that if he wants to press charges, I’ll be speaking to my lawyer, too. And I’ll be filing a complaint against this establishment for failing to handle the situation appropriately.”

You don’t look back as you turn on your heel and head straight to your table. Jungkook’s footsteps follow closely behind, and you hear him call your name, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you grab your purse and head toward the stairs leading to the ground floor, your mind set on leaving.

It’s been a long time since you felt so blatantly underestimated by a man. It happens at work occasionally, but having a woman supervisor helps that situation a bit. Still, though, you can’t help but be bitter whenever it happens. No matter how vocal you are, no matter how often you advocate for yourself, there’s a grim inevitability to it. They’ll still see you as less, as though your words carry less weight, your stance holds less power.

The thought burns at you, frustration rising like a heat wave under your skin, and there’s a dull sense of helplessness that settles heavily in your chest.

“__, hey. Stop walking so fast.” You hear Jungkook say behind you but despite his words, he still manages to catch up.

“You can go, Jungkook. I��m calling a taxi.” You say, voice leveled. You know it’s irrational but you can’t get out of your head the image of the security backing off when Jungkook began speaking to him. As if his opinion matters more than yours. The anger is misplaced, you know, but you just need a little bit of space.

“I told Jimin I’ll take you home, so I’ll take you home.” Jungkook insists and his voice is firm as well, but there’s softness around the edges. You feel it in the way he gently takes ahold of your wrist to halt you from walking. At this point, you’re already outside the establishment.

“I don’t want your help.”

He physically recoils, and you feel instantly bad just right after you say it.

Okay, maybe that was too much of an overreaction.

Still, though, while Jungkook lets go of your hand, he doesn’t relent.

“I’m not trying to be insistent for no reason, __. I want to take you home because you’re drunk and I don’t know if you’re safe especially when a guy just harassed you back there.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you turn your gaze away, feeling the telltale tremble in your body that comes right before tears. Your eyes sting faintly at the corners, but you force a sharp, steady breath into your lungs. As much as it stings to admit it, Jungkook has a point.

You’re surprised you’ve managed this far with your mind clouded by too much tequila. And while you keep telling yourself you’re not afraid of that jerk back there, the thought of walking out alone at this hour leaves a knot of unease in your chest.

Turning on your heel, you avoid Jungkook’s eyes when you look at his general direction and say, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, gauging your face. “My car is right there.” He says, pointing toward the opposite direction.

The walk to the parking lot is quiet and tense, so to speak. You avoid walking beside Jungkook and he may have understood that you want space in the meantime, as he lets himself walk ahead of you, only looking back occasionally to check if you’re still following.

When you get inside the car, Jungkook begins the engine as soon as you both settle yourselves in your seats.

“I’m sorry.” He suddenly says in the middle of the road.

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”

“I’m just sorry.”

You let out a sigh.

He’s just trying to be there for you, for some reason. He doesn’t need to, but somehow he does.

You look away, fixing your gaze at the scene on the window pane. “I’m just… I just feel angry. That asshole was calling me all sorts of uninspired, misogynistic names and even pushed me twice. And then the security came to me with that bored expression and impassive tone telling me all about that guy pressing charges, not even bothering to hear me out, completely negating me, then you stepped in and suddenly he’s scared? Apparently, your words matter more than mine, and all because I don’t have a fucking penis. How fucking stupid,” You say in one breathing frustration reeking. You take a sharp breath again and massage your temple. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean– it’s not your fault, Jungkook. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m… being mean and taking everything out on you. I just… the whole thing was just really fucked up and men irritate me.”

Jungkook glances at you and back at the road again. “I… understand. I’m still sorry for stepping in. I didn’t mean for it to look like I was… doing things for you. I was just really surprised when he said the guy is pressing charges.”

You throw your head back on the seat. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t… think you were trying to be a hero or anything. It’s just really annoying when men only listen to men. It’s fucked up.”

He hums. “Do you wanna press charges? You can also file a lawsuit. You could.”

“A lawsuit? We’re gonna end up in civil court and I’m most probably going to lose. When I said earlier I’m talking to my lawyers, that means all the law students I barely know of in my department,” you think that was funny, but Jungkook just looks at you for awhile with furrowed brows.

Okay, well, no that was not really funny. It was quite depressing.

“If you want, and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way– I can help you with it. Get you a lawyer or something. He also assaulted Jimin, so you definitely have a case.” Jungkook says as if he’s offering you some street food along a store you passed by randomly. You notice the caution in his voice though, the way he worded his suggestion, completely putting it out as if it’s up to your choice.

You appreciate that. You don’t like it when people step in for you, fight your battles for you . You have a backbone of your own and you can defend yourself in most circumstances – and you believe Jungkook’s pure intentions of just… offering some kind of… genuine help. Because he’s your friend and you would do this to a friend as well.

It’s not charity, you tell yourself.

“Thanks… I’ll tell you when… I want it.” You offer him a small smile.

“You sure?” You nod your head. Jungkook doesn’t look like he’s entirely convinced, but he drops the subject anyway. “Alright.”

The car ride was as quiet as it could be, and the stillness of dawn makes you think about the turn of events earlier. It wasn’t ideal, the way everything turned out. You don’t feel any ounce of remorse about what you said to that asshole because he deserved it for being a dick unprovoked, but too much alcohol clouded your judgment and you and Jimin could’ve acted… entirely differently in the situation.

As you rest your head on the window again, you feel a pang of regret.

It’s always so… hard to deal with the consequences of your actions. There’s a part of you who wishes you didn’t throw more wood into the flame leading to the fight. Some part is guilty of bringing Jimin into a physical fight. Then, there’s embarrassment.

You’re not a violent person and you try to stray away from violence overall if you can help it. While Jimin has always been protective over you especially when you go out at night for obvious reasons, you rarely get into physical fights. It didn’t help that Namjoon was there, too. As well as Jungkook. The two knew you both drank a lot, especially you. Jungkook was there beside you when you were flatly getting negated by the security, getting threatened by pressed charges for being unruly.

It was embarrassing. And even more so when you snapped at him moments ago, despite him doing nothing wrong.

You feel like absolute shit.

“Sorry you had to deal with… all of that.” You murmur, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Jungkook’s voice, laced with genuine confusion, cuts through your thoughts. “What?”

“For everything, I guess,” you continue, forcing a smile that feels off. “Bet you didn’t expect to drive a drunk woman home after she and her best friend got into a fight.” It sounds like a joke, but it’s a hollow one. Every moment with him tonight feels like you’ve just embarrassed yourself over and over.

You hadn’t realized how close you were to your complex until Jungkook suddenly stopped in the familiar parking lot. You’re about to unbuckle your seatbelt, but your head’s a little dizzy, and you fumble with it a little. Just as you start to move again, Jungkook speaks.

“I don’t mind doing anything for you, __. I hope you know that by now.”

The words stop you mid-motion, and you glance up at him, regretting it immediately. His gaze is intense, and no matter how much you will yourself to look away, you can’t. He lowers his eyes to your hands before leaning in slightly, unbuckling your seatbelt from your waist down with ease. His scent fills the air, making your breath catch in the briefest of moments. “Wait for me.”

You’re a little confused but stay still as Jungkook gets out of the car and walks around. When he opens the passenger door, he offers you his hand. “Can you walk just fine?

You don’t know how you manage to form an answer somehow. “I– yeah. Sure,” you stand up from your seat and get out of his car, but despite your words, you feel the gentle pressure of Jungkook’s hand on your lower back, guiding you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you mumble a soft, “Thanks.”

He hums in response.

The walk to your apartment isn’t long, but it felt like it dragged on forever with Jungkook so close by your side. The chilly air didn’t help either when you’re not exactly dressed for it. When a gust of strong wind blew, you felt yourself shiver, and Jungkook must have noticed because, without a second thought, his arm moved closer, closing the hairsbreadth gap of his skin and yours, now wrapping around your waist to shield you from the cold.

You didn’t expect it, and neither did he.

He makes a move to pull away, about to put distance between you, but when you glance at him, maybe with a hint of alarm or desperation, he seems to understand. Jungkook keeps his arm around you as you both continue walking.

Did your face scream “Please don’t take your hands off me” ? Because even now, as you’ve arrived at your apartment, taking the steps towards your apartment units, he still doesn’t let go.

Even when you reach your porch, his arm is still there, holding you close.

“We’re here,” you say to break the silence. You look up at him, and you spent the entirety of the last five minutes or so trying to avoid looking in his direction that you just now discovered he’s been sporting an easy-going look on his face, as if the whole thing is as… natural as it gets. “T-thanks for driving me home, Jungkook.”

He nods, “You’re welcome.”

You take a step back, and just as the distance grows between you, you feel a strange hesitation, as though part of you doesn’t want the moment to end. Jungkook’s hand lingers for a second longer on your back, like he doesn’t want to let go either.

You give him a small, reluctant smile, and he returns it just as gently, looking so serene with his casual fit and his soft hair, hands now buried in the pockets of his jeans. His presence feels magnetic like neither of you is ready to say goodbye yet.

“Good night,” you say, giving a timid wave.

“Sweet dreams, __.” He smiles, and the sound of his chuckle makes your heart flutter. It’s so light, so easy – like everything feels right in this moment. Like everything that happened earlier was merely not part of reality. He makes you feel so… safe and warm.

God, have you seriously deluded yourself into thinking you didn’t like this man in a very non-platonic way?

You turn, about to reach for your keys, but then you hear his voice again, calling your name. You almost spin around too quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed by the sudden motion.

It’s like you were completely expecting him to just call you.

Your eyes meet his in a gentle stare, his voice soft and warm like honey when he asks, “Can I come inside?”

Jungkook asks, letting the words slip out before he can second-guess them. He’s been bothered since the car ride – by the way your jaw flexed, the way your fingers kept pressing into your shoulder like it ached. You never said anything, of course. You wouldn’t.

Of course you wouldn’t. Jungkook knows by now that you don’t particularly like it when you’re being… doted on.

But still. It’s late – around 3 a.m. and creeping into morning – and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep knowing you’re the least bit comfortable.

He just wants to know if you’re okay.

You open your mouth to speak, but then suddenly, a clink echoes in the quiet of the dawn over the complex.

“Wha– aw!” You wince as your keys slip through your fingers, landing directly on your foot with a dull thud.

“Hey,” Jungkook automatically sinks down on one knee to pick up the keys, arm shooting right up around your waist to keep you grounded when he saw you were about to trip. His brows knit together as he looks up at you, wincing in discomfort. “You okay?”

You lift your foot slightly, balancing yourself against his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine— just buzzed. Sorry,” you mumble, but the words slur together. Jungkook had noticed you’d been drinking way before he arrived at the club, but now he realizes just how hard you’d been fighting off the dizziness. “I need to get out of these shoes.”

Jungkook stands back up on his feet, handing you the keys. He stays close, keeping his arm around you, hovering just enough to catch you if you fall out of balance again.

He watches as you try to unlock the door, but your fingers fumble over the keys, switching between them absentmindedly. With each failed attempt, your frustration grows, your huffs becoming more pronounced. Jungkook waits patiently, standing beside you, until he hears it—

A sob.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles. “I–I can’t find my keys,” you try to get the words out in between your silent cry, and Jungkook is so surprised to see the tears dropping down your cheeks that he doesn’t fully process the whole thing together. “And— and my jaw and my shoulder and my toes hurt. And I’m drunk. I don’t know. I’m really—” you’re interrupted by another snob, so you quickly wipe away at your eyes, turning away from Jungkook. “I’m really drunk.”

Jungkook gently calls your name, and he doesn’t know what comes over him. It almost felt like reflex when he reached for your face, cupping your cheeks; your tears wetting the palm of his hands. Jungkook catches them with his thumbs before more of them even fall, your skin warm beneath his touch. When you look up at him, your glassy eyes reflect the soft glow of the streetlights, and you look so heartbreakingly sad that Jungkook feels an almost physical pain to his gut.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you inside, yeah? I’ll take care of the rest. Do you want me to do it for you?” He doesn’t expect it, but you nod your head, quietly sniffing when Jungkook continues to wipe your tears with his thumbs, soothing you in the best possible way he knows he can.

You hand him the keys, and his fingers linger against your cheek just a second longer before he turns to the door, finding the right key with ease. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, doesn’t press you to explain. You wouldn’t want to tell him things right now, not when you’re obviously feeling quite… vulnerable. He doesn’t know if it’s just all your mixed up feelings dwindling down into sadness – because you did go through a lot tonight.

Jungkook has never seen you cry before, but when he saw the tears falling from your eyes, it left a dull ache that settled deep within his chest. You’re always so full of life, so quick to smile, to joke, to fill the space around you with something bright and wonderful. Seeing you like this, shaken and unguarded, stirs something deep in him. Something instinctive.

So he knows by now you don’t like getting taken care of, in a way, but Jungkook lets himself act on the want and need to do it, anyway. Even if you pull back away from him again the next day. At least he gets to be sure you’re okay.

He unlocks the door and looks back at you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” Your voice is steadier now, in Jungkook’s relief, but your tear-streaked cheeks still twist something inside him.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says softly and keeps a careful arm around your waist when you push open the door, seeing that you’re still walking a little wobbly. He watches you closely, especially your shoulders and face. “Your body still hurts?”

You give him a small, tired smile. “Uhm, I think it’ll go away soon. But I need to ice my jaw.”

When you cross over the threshold, you pause, hesitating.

Jungkook was just about to ask you if you really want to let him in because you didn’t explicitly say he could – but when you turn back to look at him, your eyes are clouded with worry. “Please don’t judge me if my place is messy and if I pass out because again, I’m really drunk. It’s not super obvious right now but I already cried in front of you for no particular reason and I’m embarrassed about that so if you want to, you can totally just leave and I won’t bother you ever again. I’m sorry that you had to do all this. This all seems like a huge bother and I’m taking so much of your time—”

Jungkook blinks.

“__.”

The way you jumped from one thing to another, the way your eyes darted everywhere but his – it’s a dead giveaway. Drunk you is a whole rollercoaster, and Jungkook doesn’t even try to fight the small, exasperated smile tugging at his lips.

God, he just… he just wants to hold you through it all.

“It’s okay,” his voice is warm. “Don’t be sorry, hm?”

You bite your lip and it takes you a while to respond before you say, “... Okay.”

The living room welcomes you both and Jungkook takes a quick look, smiling at the sight.

“You have a nice place.”

“I know,” your voice is thick with the remnants of the night, your steps slightly uneven as you move towards the couch. “It was even nicer before, but they had to repair it a week ago because of the…” you trail off, distracted, your fingers fumbling with the strap of your heel as you settle down.

Jungkook nods understandingly, quietly watching. He sees you maneuvering your legs to better see your shoes, and the action makes your skirt ride up, catching his attention for a split second. He decides to redirect his focus.

“You have ice?”

“Freezer,” You murmur, lips pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed in frustration. You let out a small hiss when the strap doesn’t successfully come off your ankle. Jungkook can tell you’re distracted, even when you add, “Oh, you don’t have to ice me, by the way, I can just—”

Before you can finish, Jungkook walks over to your direction. In one swift motion, he kneels before you, his hands effortlessly replacing yours. His fingers are warm as they brush against your ankle, and he feels your breath hitching when he unfastens the strap and slides your heels off.

“What did I say, __?” He keeps his voice quiet and firm, “I don’t mind doing things for you.” He gently sets both your feet down then places your shoes next to it neatly. “I know you don’t need my help. But just this one night, okay? Can you let me do that for you?”

The weight of his sincerity presses against your chest, rendering you momentarily speechless. His eyes hold something deep, something unspoken, something that makes warmth bloom low in your stomach.

You blink at him.

“Oh. Uh… okay.” you breathe, looking up at him slowly as he rises to his feet. “Sorry.”

It sounds sheepish and Jungkook feels the sudden urge to… he doesn’t even know now. He’s never been in the position of feeling so many different things all at once. He felt a little piece of his heart get shattered when he saw you cry earlier but now it’s warm again at the sight of you so… soft. And kind of small.

Jungkook exhales softly, the corner of his lips quirking as his palm finds your cheek. It was maybe some sort of self-indulgence when he leans down and strokes your skin, thumb tracing delicate circles. He watches as your lashes flutter under his touch. “No saying sorry. Let me take care of you.”

He lets go of you, a slight feeling of disappointment washing through him when he had to break away from the physical contact, but your body hurts and he wants to help soothe it a little bit.

Moving toward the kitchen, he doesn’t take too long going through your freezer and returns back shortly with an ice bag and a glass of water in hand. He offers the latter first, waiting patiently as you drink before settling beside you on the couch.

“Where does it hurt?” Jungkook asks. You move a little to the side to give him room, and he doesn’t really think too much about it when he drapes his free arm around the backrest of the couch, unconsciously crowding you in.

“H-here.” You tilt your face slightly, pointing to the right side of your jaw. Jungkook hums in acknowledgment before pressing the ice against your skin with meticulous care. You flinch at the initial cold, and he murmurs a soft apology, adjusting his touch until the chill soothes rather than shocks.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The silence between you lingers, but it isn’t awkward – it’s something softer, something unspoken that settles comfortably between you both. And it gives Jungkook the perfect excuse to take you in wholly.

From this proximity, every delicate feature of yours demands his attention. The way your long lashes flutter under the glow of the fluorescent light, casting faint shadows against your flushed cheeks. He notices the subtle scatter of glitter on your skin, remnants of your makeup catching the light just right, making you look like you’re glowing – no, like you’re shining. Ethereal.

Then, his gaze traces the gentle slope of your nose, following its path down to the perfect dip of your cupid’s bow – sharp, delicate, almost frustratingly beautiful. And then, of course, there’s your mouth. Jungkook has always been drawn to it. The soft, glossy curve of your lips, the way they pout ever so slightly even when you aren’t speaking. They look inviting, almost begging to be kissed, and for a brief, reckless second, he wonders what it would be like to be the one to answer that silent call.

God, you’re so pretty. It almost hurts.

Jungkook swallows hard. He shouldn’t be thinking about that. Not now.

“Jimin tells me I’m either an annoying or quiet drunk,” you suddenly say, snapping Jungkook out of his trance. “I think I’m being a little bit of both tonight.”

He finds himself chuckling at your words. “I’m alright with both.”

You let out a quiet huff, and he readjusts the ice, noticing the slight tension in your shoulders.

“Your shoulder still hurts?” Jungkook asks, his fingers hovering just above your bare skin.

You nod, and when he gestures to the ice bag, you take it without hesitation, pressing it back to your jaw. There's a quiet curiosity in your eyes as you glance at him, but you don’t say anything. Jungkook shifts beside you, sitting more upright.

“Lean in for me,” you scoot closer. Jungkook guides you against him, settling you between his arms. You’re unusually quiet, pliant in a way that makes something stir in his chest. “This okay?” he murmurs into your hair, trying – failing – not to focus on the warmth of you against him, or the way your scent lingers in the air between you.

You hum in response, a soft, content sound.

Jungkook smiles against your head.

”Let me know if this hurts or not, alright?” You nod against him, and Jungkook lets his fingers trace over the curve of your shoulder, searching for the tension. The neckline of your top makes it easy for his hand to settle against your skin. “Here?” he murmurs, pressing gently.

The soft gasp you let out catches him off guard. It’s barely a sound, but he feels it – feels the way your body reacts beneath his touch. His breath hitches for just a second before he swallows, grounding himself.

“There,” You sigh softly. Jungkook watches as you close your eyes, indulging in the feeling of him hitting the right spot.

He watches, almost entranced, as your face softens with relief.

Massaging sore muscles is nothing new to him – he’s done it for himself countless times after boxing, approaching it with the same methodical precision every time. But this? This feels different. The quiet sounds you make, the way you lean into his touch, like it’s the most natural thing in the world – he has a feeling they’ll linger in his mind far longer than they should.

He steadies his voice. “No swelling or bruising, so that’s good,” he murmurs, fingers working over your shoulder, relieved to find that himself.

You may not have wanted his help tonight, but Jungkook can’t shake the thought that the stranger at the bar deserves consequences. Maybe he should talk to Jimin about it.

He files the thought away – until your voice pulls him back.

“Where’d you learn this?” you ask, your tone lighter now. “It feels good. And I think you’re actually making me feel better.”

Then you grin at him – soft, a little dazed – and Jungkook just melts.

How you always get him to feel twenty emotions at once.

“I box sometimes. My trainer taught me this.” Jungkook tells you, something he realized he hasn’t shared with you yet. Which he loves doing.

“Oh. You box?” You inquire, craning your neck to look at him with curious eyes.

Jungkook smiles down at you and nods. “Sometimes. It’s just a little hobby I picked up a while ago.”

“Ohhh. That’s really cool.” Then you yawn, shifting even closer. “I envy people like you. I ran a 5k once and couldn’t move for two days.”

“I like moving,” Jungkook responds truthfully. Absent-mindedly, he also lets himself fall back on the couch until you’re both very lax against the sofa. “I sit a lot with my job. So I feel the need to balance it out.”

“I guess that makes—” It’s drowned with another yawn. Jungkook looks down at you as you curl up against him. “Sorry.” You smile at him, prompting Jungkook to chuckle before taking the ice bag from your hand. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist as he stretches his other hand out to place the bag on the coffee table across from you.

“You’re sleepy.”

“I’m so drunk.”

“You’re a sleepy drunk,” Jungkook grins when you don’t argue. “Your shoulder okay now?”

You jut your bottom lip out. “I think you need to massage it a little bit more…”

Jungkook takes note of the playful tone lacing your words, finding himself chuckling at the thought of you just liking the massage. He doesn’t really mind.

“Alright. But don’t sleep on me just yet.” Jungkook says, resuming his rubbing on your shoulder joint. He knows that soon, you have to change out of your clothes, remove your make-up, whatever women do before going to bed.

“I know…” you trail off.

As minutes pass, Jungkook forgets all about the massage, his hands alternating between gentle caresses and light squeezes over your shoulder. His touch grows slower, more absentminded, and at some point, he realizes the weight against his chest has shifted— you’ve fallen asleep on him.

He stills for a moment, absorbing the warmth of you pressed against him. It’s… nice. More than nice. A quiet contentment settles over him as he carefully brushes his fingers through your hair. When a few strands fall across your face, he instinctively tucks them away, only for you to stir slightly at the movement. Jungkook freezes, but instead of waking, you burrow deeper into him, your face pressing against his chest, your breath warm through the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile tugs at his lips. He takes a moment just to look at you – your peaceful expression, the way your lips part slightly in sleep, the soft rise and fall of your breathing. You’re not new to falling asleep on him; it happened just last week at his place. And just like then, he thinks you look impossibly adorable. Mostly pretty. Even prettier now. He isn’t sure how that’s possible, but somehow, you make it look effortless.

Jungkook exhales, shaking his head lightly. You have no idea, do you?

He lingers a second longer before deciding he should move you somewhere more comfortable. He doubts you’d want to wake up on the couch, still in your clothes from the club, make-up untouched. You didn’t exactly give him permission to enter your bedroom, but he figures you’d prefer that over being left out here without a blanket.

Carefully, he lifts you into his arms, cradling you effortlessly as he navigates your apartment. The layout is similar to his, but everything feels distinctly you – cozy, warm, lived-in. He nudges your bedroom door open with his foot, relieved to find it unlocked, and gently lays you down on the soft mattress. He debates for a second whether he should help you change into something more comfortable but quickly dismisses the thought. Boundaries.

Instead, he simply pulls the green comforter over you, tucking you in with quiet care. He’s just about to step back when you shift slightly, a small murmur escaping your lips.

“Kook?”

Your voice is faint, laced with sleep, and Jungkook immediately moves closer, sitting at the edge of your bed. He doesn’t expect it when your hand reaches out, fingers grazing his cheek before resting there, your touch warm and featherlight.

“Are you real?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, dazed and dreamy.

Jungkook’s heart stumbles. He swallows, then gently takes your hand in his, pressing it against his skin. “I am.”

You hum in satisfaction. “Good.” Then, in a move that completely disarms him, you squeeze his jaw slightly, fingertips lingering in something almost like admiration. Your gaze, still hazy with sleep, flickers over his features before you breathe, awed, “You’re so pretty… how?”

Jungkook exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head at your sleepy honesty. Because this isn’t the first time. You’d said the same thing that night at his place, too.

Does that mean you really think so? Or is it just a drunken habit of yours?

But none of that really matters when he finds himself murmuring, with quiet certainty, “You don’t know how it feels looking at you, __.”

There’s no response, and when Jungkook glances down, he realizes you’ve already drifted back into sleep. He stays there just a moment longer, taking in the peaceful sight of you, the way the dim light makes your features look even softer.

You look like a dream. And Jungkook isn’t sure if he ever wants to wake up from this.

There’s a thundering ache in your head when you start gaining consciousness after you wake up, eyes squinting at the light coming through the windows.

You pat around for your phone and turn it on when you find it somewhere nestled between the tangled sheets, seeing Jimin’s texts on the lockscreen.

cuntress #1 [8:00am]: did u get home safe cuntress #1 [8:05am]: i got discharged from the hospital btw joon was just being dramatic i only got cuts cuntress #1 [3:10pm]: i trust that jungkook drove u home well and alive but if u dont respond in the next 30mins i’ll send a raid team

“Jesus,” you said after reading Jimin’s last text. You glance at the time and see it’s 3:20pm. “Fuck.” Slapping a hand on your forehead, you realize just how much you slept.

Before agonizing over that, you reply to Jimin first before he actually sends a raid team. You don’t ever know when he’s serious.

You [3:21pm]: dont send a raid team what the fuck

You open the camera app to snap a picture of yourself, but you nearly doubled over when you saw your reflection. That’s why your face felt so sticky, because you still have your make-up and clothes on from last night.

You groan but take a quick picture to send Jimin anyway.

Throwing away your phone on the mattress, you throw your feet over the floor to initially go straight to the bathroom, but then your eyes catch sight of the glass of water with a pill of Advil beside it.

Oh.

Ohhh. Right. Jungkook was here last night… he asked if he could come inside your apartment and you must’ve said yes because you can remember him sitting on your couch, icing your jaw, then massaging your pained shoulder for a little while before…

That’s when your memory doesn’t serve you well.

You don’t know how you got into this bed at all.

You take the glass of water and Advil, anyway, popping the pill into your mouth and drinking. You were just standing up when your doorbell rings.

Confused, you wonder who it might be. You aren’t expecting any visitors, that’s for sure. But then you remember Jimin’s words and suddenly grow nervous that he might have actually had a raid team come your way. Whatever the hell that meant.

As you step in front of your door, you hesitantly twist it open, only to be met with none other than… Jungkook.

“Thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief. Jungkook raises a brow, rightfully confused. You give him a dismissive wave. “I thought you were Jimin’s raid team.”

“A what?” Jungkook asks, obviously baffled.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say as you take a look at him. He’s in his white button down minus the tie and trousers. It’s funny though because he’s wearing his sliders… so you assume he probably just got back home from the office. It’s only then that you notice the pot in between his hands. “What’s that?”

Jungkook glances down. “Porridge. Thought it’d help with the hangover.”

Your eyes widen at the mention.

“Oh, that’s really thoughtful. You didn’t have to…” you trail off but Jungkook only smiles and extends it to you.

When you take it in your hands, Jungkook says, “It’s still hot, so be careful.”

What you wanted to ask was if he cooked it himself – which looked like he did, but what came out was: “You just, uh, got back from the office?”

He nods.

Then, you stand there for awhile, finding yourself a little awkward just waiting for the other to say something until you both speak at the same time.

“I’ll get going, then—”

“Do you want to come in—”

You both stop speaking, looking at each other in surprise until Jungkook chuckles.

“You were saying?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I asked if you wanted to come inside but you must be busy. Thank you for the porridge, though. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m not doing a lot today,” Jungkook says with a dashing smile, inserting his hands in his pockets. “Are you inviting me over?” He adds with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You shy from his gaze. “If you want to… we can share?” You raise the pot in your hands, giving him a timid smile.

“I’d love to.”

Basically, it’s the second time Jungkook will be inside your home. But you weren’t completely sober a few hours ago when he did it for the first time, so technically, it did not count. Now that you’re free from the daze of alcohol, though, with a raging hangover as a testament to that, you’re nervous as you lead Jungkook along the way.

“You woke up just now?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah…” You place the pot on the dining table and realize for the second time you’re still wearing the clothes from last night, probably looking like a mess right now. You’re thankful Jungkook doesn't mention it. You saw your smudged makeup earlier while taking a picture for Jimin, and you definitely don’t look your best. “Sorry, I just need to change out of these clothes first. Please sit here.” You gesture toward the chair you pulled out, which Jungkook gladly came towards. When he sits, you offer him a small smile before heading to your bedroom.

In swift motion, you strip yourself off the skimpy outfit you’ve been in since the last twelve hours or so, hastily removing your make-up with a quick wipe and rinse, pulling your hair in the neatest ponytail you can manage and finally change into the first decent shirt you find in your closet and paired it with some denim shorts.

When you return to the dining area, you see Jungkook setting down some bowls on the table. You head toward him, about to express your thanks, but he turns around and, with a slightly surprised tone, says, “You’re wearing my shirt.”

It doesn’t sound accusatory, in fact, Jungkook is smiling at you, eliciting a warm feeling within your chest.

His words don’t register as quickly as they should have, but when you glance over at the shirt you’re wearing, it’s indeed his. It occurs to you it was the shirt he lent you awhile ago when you stayed over at his place. It must’ve ended in your bag when you were packing up for your return to your own place.

Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment sets in. You remember saying you’d return it ASAP, but here you are, casually wearing it at home. “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn’t even notice— I'll go change—”

“It’s fine, __. You can keep it, or not, if you don’t want to,” Jungkook muses. “You don’t have to change out of it.”

His casual response only makes you feel more flustered under his gaze.

“... Thanks,” you manage to say. After a pregnant pause, you clear your throat and gesture at the food on the table. “Should we eat? Or… I mean, do you even want to eat right now? I know it’s only, like, three pm…”

“I didn’t eat for lunch, so this will do. I make a really good hangover porridge.” Jungkook says with a chuckle.

“I can’t thank you enough.”

Jungkook hums softly, and a comfortable silence settles between you as the sound of your spoons clinking against the glassware fills the air. After your first bite, you can't help but compliment him on the porridge – it’s definitely the best hangover cure you’ve ever had. You can't help but think that he's just good at everything, like always.

It’s as if he doesn’t not know how to do something. You almost fear he's getting close to being perfect, and what’s even more surprising is that he does all of this for you without you ever having to ask. And when you mention it, he acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And that kind of freaks you out.

But, at the same time, it also makes you feel guilty.

“I’m really sorry about last night…” you start. You don’t remember every detail, of course, but you can vaguely remember the fight that broke out and how Namjoon had to interfere with the security. And because you were drunk, Jungkook had to drive you home and take you inside your own home because you probably were so wasted. It’s not your proudest moment, and the apology is something from your heart when you continue, “Jimin and I pregamed at his place before we went to the club, so even before you came to our table we were already drunk off tequila that time. Not a good reason, of course. So I’m really sorry for causing you a lot of… inconvenience— anyway, did I uh— say or did something last night?” you turn meek under his gaze, nerves wracking. Jungkook’s brow shoots up, and when he doesn’t instantly say no, you sigh. “Oh my god, I did.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jungkook quickly denies, interrupting the impending spiraling thoughts in your head. The only vivid pictures in your head right now were the events in the club, even the moment when Jungkook drove you home is blurry, and you could only tie fragments together poorly. “Don’t worry about it. You were drunk and you fell asleep on me when I helped you with your shoulders. I brought you to your bedroom.”

You stare at him, trying to see if he’s purposefully missing out on some detail. But Jungkook’s expression is as neutral as it gets, just looks at you like how he usually does. Soft, fond. Something like that. You can’t even pinpoint it.

“Well, I’m still sorry anyway,” you let out a heavy breath. “Jimin tells me I’m a super annoying drunk and he’s right and he should’ve really stopped you from volunteering to take me back home.”

“You really like saying sorry, don’t you?” Jungkook teases, but there’s something to his tone that says he’s being half-serious. “I really don’t mind. I wanted to take you home, and we’re neighbors, anyway.” He shrugs.

You nod your head. “Why… I don’t remember much about last night but why did you lie back there? To Jimin? When you said you’re still staying at Hannam.”

Jungkook halts from eating and silence stretches out until he says, “I had a feeling you wanted me to.”

You purse your lips. “I can’t even say I didn’t because I really did want you to,” you sigh again. There were so many things you did last night that you kind of regret now. It’s really just endless favors from Jungkook now, huh? You hate feeling… indebted. And you hate that you feel like you’re bothering him so much. “Things got so hectic and I didn’t have time to tell him about, uh, how we know each other and all that and I… I still haven’t told him, you see.”

“You know,” Jungkook starts, and you adjust yourself on your seat because he sounds serious this time, not like the usual easy-going, lighthearted tone he always uses with you. “I’m okay with whatever you wanna do. It’s your call. But I’m not sure why you’re trying to hide it from him. I don’t think he’s going to care that much that we already knew each other even way before he introduced us.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

The thing is, you know Jimin is not gonna care – you know that well. But Jungkook also doesn’t know that you already told Jimin about him the very first day you met him. Jungkook doesn’t know that you told Jimin about this crush that you have on this new neighbor. And you’re not ready to tell Jimin that guy – the neighbor, unit 446, was actually his cousin.

Maybe you’re overcomplicating things too much, but you’ve always been afraid of confrontation unless you have a solid, fool-proof plan backing you up. You’re gonna tell Jimin eventually, just not now. But…

“I feel bad about it. Sorry– if you wanna tell him, you can—”

“Hey, I’m not doing anything you don’t want me to do.” Jungkook cuts you off, looking at you sincerely.

You frown. He’s way too nice.

“You’re so…” you trail off, realizing that you don’t really know what to follow it up with. Jungkook is so… nothing. Blank. You come up with a blank. And not because you feel that way about him – it’s mostly because there’s so many things to describe him with.

And all you can think of is that you have the urge to come up to him and wrap your arms around him and thank him for being this patient even though you don’t feel like you deserve it.

Jungkook leans in, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’m so what?”

It’s just going to be a friendly hug. You think to yourself. Yep. Just a friendly hug and nothing more. Friends can hug, right? Like, no malice whatsoever. Jungkook is not gonna think you’re trying to make a move on him; it’ll just be you expressing your gratitude.

So you go for it, throwing your inhibitions away.

Who even cares at this point.

“Can I hug you?” you blurt out, nervously staring at Jungkook, feeling your cheeks heat up at the way he’s looking at you right now.

His smile widens, and you don’t fully expect it when he responds with a simple, “Yes.”

You stand up from your seat and round the table to go over Jungkook who pulls himself back and stands, arms opening up to welcome you when you unceremoniously wrap your own around his waist.

“Sorry,” you say when you bump roughly against him, but Jungkook only chuckles, and you feel the vibration through his chest when he does. His arms circle around your shoulders, making you snuggle against his chest. Probably self-indulgence at this point because his chest is so… big and warm and he smells good and he’s actually letting you hug him so… why not? “This is nice.” you say after awhile.

Truthfully, you initially planned the hug to be just a quick one, but it feels way too tight to let go. And you really don’t want to break away… and by the way Jungkook doesn’t say anything against it, you assume he’s just as into this as you. Probably.

“I know.”

You hide your smile against the fabric of his dress shirt.

And somehow, you stay like that for longer than what… thirty seconds? Just hugging in the middle of your dining table without saying anything.

You tighten your arms around Jungkook, and you almost let out a sigh of relief when Jungkook begins caressing your back.

“You’re really small.” Jungkook says suddenly.

“Can you not ruin this moment, please.”

He chuckles, and you feel him resting his head against the crown of your head.

And the moment suddenly feels way too familiar…

“Jungkook,”

“__,”

Jungkook chuckles against your hair, squeezing a little on your shoulder.

“You first.”

You shake your head. “No, you first.”

“Ladies first.”

You frown, even though he can’t really see it. “Really?” you deadpan.

“Really.”

The lightheartedness of the moment doesn’t really deter you from the sudden melancholy that washes over you.

Truthfully, you feel conflicted. You have been for a while now. You don’t know exactly what you feel about him, and Jungkook’s actions don’t help. Sometimes, it feels like you can’t breathe whenever he’s near because you’re so mesmerized, but there are also times – a lot of times in fact – that you feel like he’s your safe space. Like right now. It sounds deluded even in your head but you think his arms feel a little too… home-y. Like you belong right there.

Then there’s the guilt of being this… way. You’re so confused you don’t even know what you’re doing at this point. You push and pull. He almost kissed you and you swerved just in time to make up some lame excuse about being sleepy. He took you home because you were drunk and brought you hangover porridge right after he got out of work because… because what?

“Why?” you whisper, the sound barely there. Like you didn’t even mean to let it out.

“What do you mean, why?”

You shut your eyes close. “Why do you… why do you do this?”

The question feels weighted, and it is. You can’t see Jungkook, and maybe you’re thankful for that because there’s vulnerability in your uncertainty that you don’t want to show him.

You feel him pulling up his chin from the crown of your head, and when he lets go of your shoulders, you only tighten your hold around him. Partly because if he breaks away from the hug, he’ll look at you and see you.

“You do these… things. You’re so nice. And you’re so sweet. You take care of me as if–” you stop yourself. “I don’t know, Jungkook. You confuse me. Why? Why do you do this?”

“__, can—” Jungkook tries to let go again, eager to make you look at him.

“No. Listen, it’s taking everything in me to be calm right now. I’m embarrassed and I don’t want you to see my face.”

You hear Jungkook letting out a sigh.

“Why do you think so?” He says after awhile, finally setting his arms around you again. But this time, the other one is around your waist, and you try to not think too much about how he’s gently rubbing your waist right now.

You really don’t like the fact that you like it too much when he does that. Even hate it more that he himself seems to like doing that.

“I can think of a few reasons.” you tell him.

“What are those?”

Thank god you’re having this conversation without seeing each other’s faces. You’ll combust if it was the other way around.

“Well, maybe… you’re just inherently kind and you just like helping people.” You lamely say, and even you don’t believe that.

Jungkook lets out a chuckle anyway, disbelief painting his voice when he responds, “You think I do this to everybody?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“It’s nice you think of me like that. But no. I don’t do this to everybody, __. I don’t offer my place when someone’s apartment gets flooded, and I don’t cook them hangover porridge right after I get off work.”

You bite your lip. “Okay… then you’re just a really good friend, then.”

Jungkook stops rubbing your waist. And you feel him freezing.

His tone is almost incredulous when he says. “You think it’s because you’re my friend.”

That makes you break away from the hug quickly. You take offense at the disbelief on his face, and you make sure to glare at him for that.

“What do you mean by that? Are you being a snob when we’re literally hugging—”

“No, __, god—” Jungkook cuts you off. He grabs you closer again. Gentle. Putting his hands on your waist, he looks into your eyes with a deep sense of sincerity and eagerness. “You really think I do things like this to my friends?”

You try to look away, but Jungkook’s hand travels from your waist to your cheek, making you look at him. You feel trapped, but there’s no feeling of suffocation from it. You like it, in fact.

“Well. Jimin would let me stay at his place whenever. Just not in his bedroom, though.”

“Fair,” Jungkook says. His eyes cast their gaze down from your eyes to your lips. And you’ve been in this position before, but unlike last time, you don’t particularly feel like running away. “I’m glad you’re my friend. But I was thinking that… by now you must’ve realized I don’t only see you as that.”

Maybe somewhere in your heart and mind, you expected that. Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you can still play dumb right now and tell him you don’t know what that means but for the record you’re not playing dumb, you are just this dumb and you don’t even mean that in a self-deprecating way. Just self-aware.

But Jungkook’s words couldn’t be clearer.

He likes you – is what he meant.

“Is it weird that we’ve only really known each other for a month… but I can already see the wheels turning in your head,” Jungkook muses when you don’t say anything. A small smile tugs at his lips, then, “You don’t have to say anything soon. If you’re not comfortable with this, I can stop. You just have to tell me.”

You open your mouth. “I— I…”

But you find yourself drawing a blank.

“I like you, __, if it’s still not obvious.” Jungkook reiterates, more explicitly this time.

Oh my god.

You open and close your mouth like a fish in a tank, finding words to be unavailable in your head at the moment.

You feel Jungkook shift on his feet. “You can think about it. I’m not gonna push… but I’ll be here if you want me to.”

“Jungkook.” You finally say his name, but it feels like the air has thickened around you.

Your fingers instinctively bunch the fabric of his collar, pulling him just a little closer. It’s not enough to throw him off, though; he remains steady, his gaze locked on yours, patient as always.

Always so patient. It makes your chest tighten.

“Yeah?”

The words are there, swirling inside you, desperate to break free. You know exactly what you want to say to his confession – you’ve imagined it, thought about it. It would be so easy, so fucking easy to say it. To tell him you feel the same way, to let him know you want this just as much. The words are right there on the tip of your tongue, practically begging to spill out.

But all that comes out is a soft, unsure, “Can you wait for me?”

It’s not what you wanted to say. It’s not enough. But it’s all you can manage.

Because even though it feels easy, even though you can almost taste the possibility of it, you know deep down that you’re not ready. Not for this. Not for the weight of it all – a relationship, a commitment you’re not sure will work.

It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, nature pulling you in for a dive, the wind howling in your ears. You can feel the adrenaline, the rush, the pull to just jump. But you’re unprepared, no harness to catch you, no guarantees. You know that falling means you’ll crash. You’ll hurt.

“I will.”

Jungkook’s voice is calm, almost too calm, and he smiles at you. It’s gentle, the kind of smile that makes everything feel... safe. And for some reason, despite the fear swirling in your chest, you believe him.

You decide, against everything in you that’s scared shitless, to trust him. To trust that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be there when you’re ready just like he promised.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #p; writing #fic: nb #awrkive

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artemisiasmuse · 2 days ago

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rafe being all stressed at work and all he wants is come pick his sweet girl from her girl brunch and go home and cuddle? (Love ur work and than u baby)

this is so cute :< i can see it so clearly

first req yippee thank u my love <3

cw: it’s sickly sweet fluff, maybe a tad suggestive, reader described as shorter than rafe, use of “princess” “angel” “wife”, some manhandling

rafe had a headache, what from? it was unclear, maybe dealing with stakeholders and being in meetings all day or just simply having to come in on a day which would be a day off for anyone else. the joys of being a ceo. he couldn’t even think straight at a certain point, telling his father’s assistant, now his, to push all his meetings to monday. the overseas partners be damned, he needed to see his girl. you were the only one who could make him feel better, the only one allowed to see how much it was getting to him

he called you on his way out, you felt the phone ring in your purse, resting next to your lap on the booth you and your friends were piled into. brunch was starting to become a tradition after rafe kept going into the office on saturday mornings, you hated how empty the house felt so instead you hung out with your friends. you didn’t expect him to be free till 12 pm but now he was calling. your friends groaned as you hopped out of the booth, skipping slightly to answer the phone. “so whipped.” kie resounded behind your back and you wouldn’t even refute it.

your voice was sickeningly sweet when you answered, knowing your rafe was probably stressed or tired and was taking his few minutes between meetings to call you. “hi baby.”

“hey princess, you still out?” his voice sounded strained, you frowned at the tone, you could tell he was tired.

“uh huh, everything okay rafey?” he sighs at your words, you’re so endlessly adoring and doting, he should just wife you up. a big diamond ring would look so nice on your fingers, you’d be mrs. rafe cameron, god he wished you were next to him.

“‘missed you, can i pick you up angel?” you perked up at his words, already moving back to your table so you could pick up your bag.

“you’re off work?” there was a slight waver in your voice, you didn’t want him to go back after what you assumed was a short hour break.

“i’m taking it off, just wanna lie in bed with you.” that was all you needed to hear, telling him you’ll text him your location and hanging up with a sweet, “see you soon rafe.”

your friends groaned as you informed them you’d be leaving early, telling them you’d venmo them the split. the next ten minutes felt like hours as you anxiously awaited your boyfriend’s arrival. when he was finally outside you practically ran out of the restaurant, your friends giggling at you.

rafe was waiting outside his car door, watching you walk over, you looked so pretty in the morning all warm and cuddled up in bed. now you were in a sundress and sandals looking like a dream, you giggled when he looked you up and down with zero subtlety, skipping into his arms. he caught your weight, huffing a laugh at the impact. “pretty.” he murmured into your ear and you pressed a kiss to his collarbone, not quite reaching his face even in your heels. it was strange how his headache had vanished as soon as you were in his arms, was it your scent, your touch, your pretty voice? he didn’t know and he didn’t care, all he needed to know was that you fixed everything. he really needed to hack into your pinterest somehow and look at the wedding board he just knew you had.

you made it home pretty quickly, rafe ditched his dress shirt and pants, you kicked off your sandals, took of your bra, and practically jumped into bed. his arms wrapped around you, hating how distant you were on the other side of the bed, and pulled you against him. you turned in his hold, looking at your beautiful boyfriend, pressing your hand to his face, there was still a furrow to his brow. “you okay rafey?”

“i am now.” he kissed the palm of your hand tugging you closer if it was even possible. you were squished against him and even still it wasn’t enough, unsatisfied, rafe turned onto his back pulling your body to lay flat on his. you gasped at the action, bringing your hands to rest on either side of his head against the mattress. “that’s better.” the weight of you on top of him was comforting, now he could feel all of you without worry that you’d move out of his grasp. rafe didn’t know why he felt so erratic but he felt in control, he had you and you weren’t going anywhere. you watched him relax, propping your chin onto his chest just so you could look up at him. his eyelashes fluttered closed as you stroked his cheek, the soothing motion of your fingers lulling him to sleep, it wasn’t long after that you fell asleep with your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. when you woke up you felt hot and sweaty, sighing at the clammy feeling of rafe’s arms circling your back. he was holding you against him as if you would go anywhere. you tried wiggling out of his hold but were unsuccessful, waking him in the process

“baby stop moving,” his gravelly voice halted your ministrations and you huffed against his chest, both annoyed and impressed by how firm his pecs were.

“rafe we can’t sleep all day, we’ll be up all night.” you murmured, he hummed at your words, a deep rumble that shook you against him.

“that was my plan anyways.” you groaned at his teasing words, belatedly realizing you shouldn’t have said that in the first place.

“at least let me-” you squirmed in his hold again, this time he let you move and you lay by his side instead, his arms still loosely around you. “hey big boy, i’m not going anywhere, ease up.” you teased, poking his biceps as he kept them around you. the nickname was enough for him to be momentarily stunned, easing his grip and you giggled at his reaction. sea blue eyes widened at your words and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. a groaned slipped past his lips, opting to instead stuff his head between your breasts so he could at least be close to you this way. you giggled at his actions, watching how he scooted down the length of the bed so his head could rest against you. you scraped your nails against his scalp, hands naturally finding their way back to him. rafe sighed into you, so grateful he could lie on his favorite pillows, hear your quickening heartbeat, smell your perfume and distinct scent. he’d bottle it up if he could. you let him rest there a while longer, massaging the taunt muscles of his back and shoulders.

rafe would much rather spend every day like this with you, cuddled up and limbs tangled so thoroughly he doesn’t know where he ends and you begin.

since im a demon and evil i was having alternative thoughts like what if rafe came home and just wanted to smoke a blunt and do other things or what if he just needs to take his stress out in other ways okay goodbye this way too long already i just loved the prompt sm!

#rafe cameron #artemisiasmuse #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron headcanons

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imsofreakingtired · 2 days ago

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need sevika x femme!reader hcs😭💔

yes ma'am🫡

sevika x femme!reader

genuinely gay panics over you every hour of the day. she wants to tell you how pretty you are and how weak you make her but is too embarrassed to, so she’ll just stare at you lovingly when she thinks you aren’t looking

likes it when you hang onto her arm when you walk down the street together. also likes opening doors for you, pulling out chairs for you, because you teasingly say “thank you my gentleman” every time and it makes her blush

it takes her all of 5.03 minutes to get ready to go out, while you’re still choosing an outfit fifteen minutes later. she’ll mope around and grumble about how you don’t need all that prep because you look fine but secretly enjoys watching you put on makeup and do your hair. it’s like an art form to her. tries to kiss off your lip gloss the minute you put it on because she says you look so yummy

on that note. she loves the smell of your products and will find every conceivable excuse to bury her nose in your hair, kiss your lips, your neck, just to be close to your scent

never buys any maintenance products for herself (3 in 1 soap n she calls it a day) but she’ll hear you briefly mentioning something you want—a new lip gloss, a skirt, a skincare product—and she'll just place it in front of you the next day without a word

any hetero who sees the two of you would assume she’s the stone butch top and you’re the femme bottom and only sevika knows how friggin scary you can be when she makes you mad, like when she comes home late without telling you and scares the shit out of you, or when she gets into a fight and puts herself in danger

(she doesn’t fear anything except the sound of you clicking your tongue)

will follow you around on shopping days and carry the bags. enjoys intimidating the other boyfriends and husbands waiting for their partners to finish shopping

you hold the reins in the relationship and she knows it. she loves it when you boss her around and call her your puppy

carries you on her back on date nights when your heels start hurting your feet too much. she always teases you about them- “why the hell would anyone want to walk on plastic toothpicks?” but secretly thinks they’re sexy

always in dangerous protective lesbian boyfriend mode when you go out and you’re wearing something low cut. keeps a hand on your thigh or around your waist at all times and shoots venomous looks at any man who so much as glances at you.

loves it when you’re dressed up, but also loves it when you’re just chilling in the house in sweats, hair down without any makeup. she loves the way you look in the mornings with messy hair and sleepy eyes. once when she thought you were sleeping you hear her whispering “my princess” as she stroked your hair

now it’s an ongoing joke between you. she’s your knight and you’re her princess

whenever you consult her on how you should do your nails next she’ll close her eyes and pick randomly like it’s a multiple choice test. this annoys you to no end. when you tell her to pick seriously she just smirks and says “honestly? my favorite kinds of nails are short nails.”

likes to plop down on the couch and pull you onto her lap after a long day of work and turn on the tv, nuzzling her face in your hair. she’ll fall asleep cuddling you in front of the tv five (5) minutes later but she’ll jolt awake as soon as you start to disentangle yourself from her ~~~ thank you @arcaneisundermyskin for the req :)

#this ones to all my femme lesbians i appreciate and adore yall so much #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika headcanon #sevika imagine #lesbian #sevika x female reader

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chaos-in-deepspace · 15 hours ago

Text

Y’all I know a lot of us don’t have the best self restraint, but I recommend not pulling and not spending for the first three days of this banner. Infold is being so freaking greedy and if we wanna change shit we gotta show them how absolutely pissed we are. Seriously, keeping the hair and the outfits in different crates is beyond bad, and wanting us to pull 285 times for ALL THE HAIRSTYLES?

I did a small breakdown the other day with the help of a friend. I was mainly basing it off of the crates we could buy with Caleb’s (I’m pretty sure during the 4-card banners in the past they had given us a few more crates)

But essentially if you went the top up route and started with zero pulls for this banner, it would cost around like $700 usd if you wanted every single hairstyle and outfit for this banner, $700 for 285 pulls…

If you purchased the crates, and again I’m going off the crates you could purchase during the last Caleb banner with his prices, if you got all those crates available it would be about $344 for all those packs and you’d be getting 271 pulls for that. Added onto the free pulls you’d get for the event and the free Dias…you’d probably barely have enough pulls.

Imagine spending $350 every time a 5 card banner came out because you wanted everything. IMAGINE SPENDING THAT MUCH MONEY GUYS. And that’s not even for all the fucking cards. That’s just for the ITEMS!

And it’ll only get worse if we let it. We all know there’s gonna be a 6th LI. Imagine if we just let Infold get away with this kinda greedy ass shit. We’re probably gonna have to pull 350 times when the 6th LI comes out to get all the items.

So guys just…if you can hold off on pulling for three days. It’s only three days. We’ve had to wait longer for stupider shit. And try not to spend any actual money on this banner. They’ve legit locked another outfit for MC behind a paywall. Like what’s the point in saving chocolate if we gotta pay actual money to dress our own MC?

Apparently Lads players in CN are organizing to not spend the first 3 days of the banner. Not only for Sylus and Caleb, but also because Infold is separating the pulls rewards and being greedy, if player let this pass they will accept this as the fandom not caring about them separating cosmetics from outfits and making rewards more difficult to obtain in future banners.

For the upcoming banner (Tomorrow's catch-22), Infold separated the hair from the outfit so people need to pull more (85 for the first) for a cosmetic that should be included in the crate, like Caretaker banner with the butler outfit, ears and tail.

Pls reblog to share the info. Likes don’t work in tumblr like in other apps.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads zayne #love and deepspace zayne #l&ds #rafayel love and deepspace #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 days ago

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lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off.

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won.

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile.

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together.

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet.

You weren’t even sure how this happened.

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you.

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you.

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath.

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on.

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair.

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck.

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper.

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips.

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you.

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped.

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned.

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered.

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe.

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard.

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum.

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you.

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face.

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you.

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly.

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips.

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back.

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues.

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day.

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.

#my fic #joel miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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rik0shii · 12 hours ago

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lads guys headcanons

(zayne,sylus,xavier,rafayel,caleb)

warnings :fluff

request: yes

thank you for requesting, I'm new to doing those things so pls tell me if it wasn't to your liking or if it wasn't what you imagined so that I can fix it and get better !

Zayne

• Super punctual—if you have a date set for 1 PM, he’s already outside at 12:50, waiting in his car just so he can call you at the exact time.

• Kids adore him. He has that calm, safe aura that makes even the shyest child want to hold his hand.

• ASMR king—his whispery, soft-spoken voice could put anyone to sleep. If he ever recorded voice memos for you, they’d be the most soothing thing ever.

• After a long mission, he welcomes you with quiet reassurances, hugging you from behind and murmuring, “You did great today. I missed you.”

• Loves holding your hand, whether it’s a quick squeeze of reassurance or intertwining fingers while walking.

• Soft, sleepy smiles—the rare moments when he’s tired but still awake enough to look at you and grin lazily.

• Would totally tuck a blanket around you if you fell asleep on the couch.

Xavier

• Definitely the “I know a spot” guy. And when he shows you? It’s breathtaking—some secret rooftop, a hidden garden, a quiet overlook.

• Hand-holding and forehead kisses in those quiet places where it’s just the two of you.

• If you’re on a mission and he’s not with you, he refuses to sleep. He’ll pace, check his phone, stare at the ceiling—anything but rest.

• CLINGS when you return. Arms wrapped around you, face buried in your neck, and a muffled, “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”

• Skilled with his fingers? Definitely means he can play the piano beautifully. Would learn your favorite song just to surprise you.

• Lowkey romantic in an effortless way. Always the guy to drape his jacket over you if you’re cold or tilt your chin up before a kiss.

Sylus

• Loves stargazing. If you ever go on a late-night drive, he’ll pull over just to sit on the hood of the car with you, pointing out constellations.

• Loves rainy days—the sound, the smell, the way it makes everything feel cozy. If it’s storming outside, he’s making hot drinks and pulling you onto the couch for a movie marathon.

• A big fan of sleepy cuddles. He’ll absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair while half-asleep.

• Writes little notes for you and leaves them in random places—inside books, on your mirror, tucked into your jacket pocket.

• Horrible at remembering dates but amazing at remembering tiny details—like the way you take your coffee or the song you hummed once three months ago.

• Unironically loves stuffed animals. If you ever give him one, he’ll pretend it’s no big deal, but you’ll definitely find it on his bed later.

Caleb

• Super protective but in a quiet way—he’ll walk on the side closest to the street, double-check locks before bed, and always notice when you seem off.

• Really good cook—if you’re having a bad day, expect a homemade meal that somehow tastes exactly like comfort.

• Loves fixing things for you. Broken zipper? He’s on it. Squeaky door? Fixed. Car won’t start? He’s already rolling up his sleeves.

• Acts grumpy but is secretly the softest. If you rest your head on his shoulder, he’ll pretend to sigh but won’t move an inch.

• Always warm. If you’re cold, he’ll just pull you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

• Reads a lot. Might not admit it, but he totally has a favorite book and will casually reference it in conversation.

• Loves slow dancing in the kitchen. No music, just the sound of your breathing and his steady heartbeat.

Rafayel

• Absolute charmer—he can flirt like it’s second nature, but when it comes to real feelings, he gets a little shy.

• Knows how to dress. If you ever need help picking an outfit, he’ll make sure you look stunning.

• Sends voice memos instead of texts. His voice is too smooth not to be used.

• Great dancer—whether it’s a fancy ballroom-style twirl or a goofy little move in the kitchen, he makes everything feel fun.

• Gives the best compliments—not just about looks, but little things like, “I love how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.”

• Cuddling expert. His hugs are always just the right amount of firm, warm, and lingering.

• Loves learning about you. Your favorite color? Noted. The way you like your tea? Memorized. A weird fact about something you love? He’ll bring it up just to see you smile.

#lads zayne #x reader #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads caleb #headcanons #lads headcanons #zayne x reader #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #love and deepspace

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chaoticwriting · 2 days ago

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FENTON CRIME FAMILY 4

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Damian straightens out his shirt a little as he stands in front of his siblings. He doesn't know why nor would he admit that he is a little nervous right now. They are currently at the theater room waiting for whatever Damian has prepared for them. Except for Dick and Jason, all of the siblings are here.

Tim: Would you explain to us already why you want us here?

Damian: Silence Drake. I am gathering my thoughts here.

Steph: Ugghhh, just tell us already. I am already close to cracking up Cass to confess who she is hanging out with.

Cass: No you aren't.

Steph: Yes, I am.

Duke: Umm, guys. I think Damian is ready.

Suddenly the lights turn off and the projector starts to show a slide show.

Damian: So, I thank each one of you for making time to come to this meeting today.

Tim:*Whispering* Oh wow, he must really need our help if he even thanks us for just being here.

Damian:*Glaring at Tim* As you all are aware, I am going out on an outing the day after tomorrow. Although I am sufficiently trained in proper dressing up, I would like to have a second or maybe third opinion.

Steph: You mean fifth opinion? Cause there are like 4 of us here.

Damian: It is a figure of speech, Brown. I'm sure you are not stupid enough to not know that.

Tim: I think he is trying to insult you but that sounds like a praise to me.

Duke: It's because you are a weirdo. How about we get back on track? So, what do you want our opinion on?

Damian turns the slide and a selection of clothes appears.

Damian: I need you to give me your opinion on which set of clothes are the most suitable for my outing.

Cass: What is the specific criteria for the selection?

Damian: I want the clothes to flesh out my features more.

Duke: As in making you look more handsome?

Damian: Yes.

Tim: Why do you need to look more handsome? I thought you are just going for some outing?

Steph: Shit! Don't you see it, Tim? He is going on a date. Look at those clothes. Those are the clothes that he only wears if there is a special occasion.

Duke: You are going on a date? With who? Does Bruce or Alfred know?

Damian: I already told Alfred about my outing. I am holding off on informing father of this event until there is any further progress. As for who, it is none of your concern.

Tim: Wait. Then why do you want our opinion on what you wear?

Damian: Because all of you have experience in relationships before. I would have invited Grayson if not for his fashion sense.

Duke: Fair warning, though. I am not good at these clothing things. It is usually Isabella that chooses my clothes.

Damian: Of course I know that. But given you are in a relationship with Ortiz for a long time already, I would assume her sense of fashion has already rubbed off a little on you.

Steph: Wait, so we are just gonna ignore that he is going on a date? Aren't any of you curious?

Tim: I already got her files. Name is Dani Fenton. 15. No school. Lives in the Bowery. Her sister is the therapist that Bruce is seeing. Has a brother. Her internet history is very clean. Like super duper clean. Almost tailored to make it seem like that.

Duke: Chances it is forged?

Tim: Likely. But I can't seem to find anything about her. Whether it is physical or online.

Cass: Are you sure she is safe?

Damian: Yes.

Steph: I'm not gonna stop you from romancing her but considering who you are the son of, we might need to prepare just in case.

Duke: Oh yeah. Hopefully she isn't anything like that. The last thing we need is another rogue in Gotham.

-Crime Alley-

Red Hood: So, why do you want to meet?

Spectre: I have information that you might want.

Spectre (Ellie) throws a file with a big red 'SECRET' on it onto the table. Red Hood picks it up and opens it.

As he flips through the pages, his breath becomes more ragged. His eyesight slowly turns more green and he could feel his blood pumping at a higher rate as his anger slowly builds up while reading the file.

Especially when he reads the part where they are part of the government. How dare the government do this? Not only are they killing people, they also label them as non living.

Red Hood: What do you want me to do with this information?

Spectre: It is up to you really. Since you are technically a hero, I decide to give this information to you first. However, do know that if you wish to take action, please do it quickly. A lot of "people" wish to have a piece of them.

After Spectre says that, she stands up from her chair and goes out of the room. Red Hood watches as the young gang leader leaves his office. Eyeing the file, he will call the Outlaw tomorrow. There is a government base to be blown up.

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #batfam #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny x cass #dead silent #cassandra cain #justice league #cass x danny

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 day ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐬 || 𝐢𝐧-𝐡𝐨 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟎𝟏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ short scenes of how in-ho thought he didn’t care about you, but he realized he actually did after seeing you almost overdose for doing drugs with Thanos and Namgyu.

warnings_ AGE GAP! (not specified), lots of restroom scenes lol, protective! in-ho, mild brat!reader, brat tamer!in-ho, reader ingests Thanos’ pills, blood, angst, fluff, slight canon divergence, NOT PROOFREAD

Notes_ I wish I had added more details to this one but I have been busy and I’m slightly drunk rn, sorry

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 lee byung-hun

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄��┈┈┈

Ride or die, you heard once.

Even when you think you have it all, there’s still more to get.

Five days ago you were partying hard at some elite club, three days ago some asshole tried to poison you and now you were playing Korean children's games to death.

Player 153, you got. The green tracksuit unintentionally made your eyes highlight, as you had noticed the first time you visited the restrooms.

You knew what and where you were getting into. After all, your father was more than a big sponsor of the games. He wanted you to marry an asshole, and you flew away. He tried to kill you, the only option left was death or death. It was dramatic, but sadly the truth. Nobody was waiting for you outside of the deadly games.

Your gelish nails were surviving the whole thing. The bright burnt orange color matched the dress of the big doll of the first game. The cheeky asshole of Thanos befriended you because of that. Then you met Nam-gyu and there was some odd connection.

It never occurred to you that you would be recognized. Even when you were the only foreigner in the games of that year.

It was on your way back to bed when you met him.

Hwang In-ho melted into the crowds of players, ready to assume the role of player 001. He was alert to every single movement and was trying to hear everything that was said when he heard some annoying voices.

“And did you see how that asshole started screaming? Dude that was crazy!” When In-ho turned, he saw the mediocre rapper with purple hair shouting and moving like a little kid through the maze of pink stairs at his other assholes friends.

“STOP!” Namgyu mocked player 456, making Thanos initiate a horrendous rap verse about the first game.

And then a female laugh joined them.

“Say he’s telling the truth, Wouldn’t that be crazy?” In-ho gently dodged some people to get closer, and he ended up walking literally behind you.

All he could see was the back of a short woman, with nice legs and an attractive silhouette; In-ho almost rolled his eyes at the thought, already feeling stressed because he had lost sight of Gi-hun.

“You’re already on a trip, y/n-su” Thanos took you and Namgyu by the shoulders and the three of you started cackling like idiots.

Player 153, y/n….

In-ho couldn’t remember who exactly was said player. But there was something about your name that resulted oddly familiar to him. You were definitely a foreigner.

In-ho was almost convinced there was no report of a foreign player being recruited.

A bad omen settled in him.

…

The cold lights of the room make your head feel disoriented, but it’s an appealing feeling since you feel like you are lying in a big puffy cloud. Instead, you are actually laying your head in Nam-gyu’s lap while Thanos is seated on the other side of the bed, whispering and gossiping about the players.

“That fucking asshole over there is not going to last,” he said pointing at an old man who looked like he was in shock after the first game. And it’s not like you were insensible but everyone with a number embroidered on their tracksuit was supposed to read the agreement policies before playing. “Just look at him”

“More money for us!” Nam-gyu adds.

You didn’t need the money, you just wanted to make your father angry, to escape, to feel the rush of something that wasn’t running away while living in neglect.

“Nam-nam, don’t be like that!” You say, chuckling and nudging him in the stomach. He joins you and then Thanos and is just the three of you high as fuck. “I need a cig…”

“Me fucking too” Thanos agrees then looks back at the crowds. When he sees Lee Myung-gi, you know it’s over, Thanos will likely go to argue and Nam-gyu would follow and subsequently you.

And indeed, that’s exactly what happened.

You roll your eyes, following the pair to the other side of the room.

“Guys! Leave him alone. He’ll likely die in the next game…” you argue, trying to get their attention. But the males are so invested in their stupid fight and you are so disoriented thanks to the drugs that you don’t see a man coming to separate them.

You only see the number 001 in the green jacket and soon the man ends up punching your friends.

“Hey, stop!” You try to interfere but it’s useless.

That’s when you identify the man, it was the man who outcasted the votes in favor of keeping playing.

“ENOUGH!” You yell, loud enough to stop the fight.

The man turns to look a you and he finally sees your face.

In-ho’s face turned pale. It couldn’t be you, it made no sense.

But he remembered very well the family portrait of your family resting in your father’s office in London.

You miss the way he sees you because you hurry to tend to your friends.

‘Fucking asshole…” In-house hears you whispering as you help Thanos and Nam-gyu to stand up.

In-ho felt himself getting extremely curious and irritated. Now his plans would get more complicated.

…

It’s almost time for lights out when every player is allowed to use the restrooms before bed. In-ho finally made contact with Gi-hun and he felt slightly under control of the situation. But you were still on his to-do list. So he rushed to wait the moment you separated from your assholes companions.

And when you started moving away with a bunch of female players, he made his move.

He grabbed from the forearm and ushered you to walk a few steps away, both of you passed to pink guards and let him yank you inside an empty hallway, near the stairs maze.

He heard you mumbling curses and trying to go back until In-ho lost his patience and pushed you against the wall.

“How did you get here?” He harshly asks, making you gasp at the sudden pressure in your forearm.

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, trying to get out of the man’s grasp. “Let me go!”

You are pushed inside the restroom and you are about to yell but you finally face your captor.

Player 001, is a handsome old man. Still, you didn’t know who the fuck he was and what he had to do with you.

“How did you get here?” He repeats his initial question, looking extremely serious.

“Who the fuck are you?” His grip softened but the pressure remained, keeping you between him and the wall.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” His English is very good, but it isn’t his pronunciation that makes you almost gasp in surprise.

You can his tired eyes, fine nose, his hair. The vague memory of your father meeting with a man in your home, talking about expenses and finances, gives you enough answers.

“Congratulations, frontman. You just exposed yourself to me…” he seemed surprised, but hid it very quickly.

“You are no threat to me. Now speak…” He wasn’t expecting you to take very long to discover who he was given his approach to you.

“I met your salesman. He was very cute…”

“He must have recognized you. He wouldn’t give you a card…”

Your father was more than a generous sponsor. The island was also to his name. Everyone knew your name and who you were despite never being seen. For your father, it had been a disappointment your arrival. He always wished for an heir. And you resented him for that. You were useless to his eyes, an heir with no regard.

“He wasn’t as smart as you thought he was, dear. One glimpse of my cunt and I had him twirled around my finger…” his eyes lock with yours in a deep gaze, he wasn’t happy. “I miss him. I wish he wasn’t dead…”

“You think this is a game?” You chuckle, looking around the empty restroom.

“I think it is…” your finger points around the room. “I won’t tell a soul anything about you. Promise, Mr. Young-il”

“Listen because I won’t repeat myself. You’ll have no special treatment. If you mess this up, you die like everyone else” he says, leaning closer, intimidating you. But you don’t flinch. “It really is true that money can’t buy happiness, right?”

“Dying in the middle of this horror is better than dying at the hands of my own father” In-ho almost pitted you. He wasn’t a good person but there was still humanity inside him. You were not innocent, but you were so full of life, you were gorgeous. And he couldn’t believe your father despised you so much.

“I don’t care. Just don’t interfere with my task…” he says, looking you up and down before letting you go and urging you to get out of the restroom.

He said you wouldn’t get any special treatment. But he already felt feeling doubtful.

…

You can’t sleep. It’s completely dark and you can hear soft snores. The memory of you playing ddakji and seeing player 001 cheering for you repeated over and over in your head.

He was the leader. He knew your father and yet, it seemed like he was trying to protect you. So many questions popped into your mind, almost making it impossible for you to conceal sleep.

And suddenly, a hand touched your hip bone.

You scream but the hand covers your mouth.

“Come with me…” you know his voice. The frontman disguised as 001 was right there next to you.

Maybe your questions were about to be answered.

Carefully, you take the hand he offered you and follow him outside.

There are only two pink guards, everything else is empty.

It was unclear if it was day or night. The bright hallways changed from purple to bubblegum pink and then, green.

“Where are we going?” You ask, feeling your hand starting to sweat, but he doesn’t leave the embrace.

“To take a breath…” he simply says.

At the end of the green hallway, he opens a door and it’s dark, barely illuminated by warm bulbs. Is a stair and when you reach the end, it leads to the outside.

“I always forget this is under the island,” you say, out of breath, looking at the beautiful fawn and the sun peaking.

You don’t see the way the man beside you is looking in awe at you.

He doesn’t even know how invested he was in you.

“Why are you such a burden for your father?” He went straight to the point.

“He wanted a boy, I was born a girl” you admit, looking at the barely visible sea in the distance. “The only thing I could’ve been useful for him was to marry another wealthy man. But I refused…”

“That’s why you entered the games?” You nod, walking through the dirt and grass.

The sunrise was just starting, with orange, pink, and yellow, it was a beautiful sight that almost made you forget where you were.

“Don’t do anything stupid, other than what you already did. If you do, I won’t be able to protect you…”

“I appreciate your concern for my safety” you admit, locking your eyes with his. “But my life is not a priority for me anymore, Mr. Young-il,” you say and he almost smiled at you mocking him.

“In-ho…” he says.

“What?”

“My real name is In-ho” You couldn’t deny his revelation surprised you. “Young-il is just a facade”

You weren’t expecting him to trust you enough to share that. But once again, you were surprised.

“You really think you can keep 456 in place?” You ask him incredulously. “Prevent the voting to withdraw the games and convince my father to leave me alone?”

“I can negotiate with your father so he can leave you alone” Your eyes snap open at his words.

“No. You must know what he’s capable of” he smirks, eyeing you briefly before returning to look at the sunset.

“Don’t tell me you are growing fond of me” You turn to look at him and it’s your turn to smirk.

He meets your eyes and for some reason, you don’t erase the smile on your face.

“Never, Mr. Young-il” Your mocking is obvious, making him smile as he admires your profile. “I’d love to stay here, but we must go back before the music starts playing…”

When you turn to look at him, you see he had been eyeing you previously, making you unconsciously blush. Thankfully it was still dark enough to cover your embarrassment.

He nods and walks past you.

And there’s an odd feeling lingering in the air. Both of you conclude it’s odd but pleasing.

…

A carrousel, How bad it could go?

You are locking arms with Se-mi, your only female friend. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su are a little far away from you.

“Are you nervous?” She asks.

“Not really. And you?” She shrugs, looking around.

When you turn back, you see In-ho and other players talking around. He spots you and tells you to move away, probably to talk.

“Let me see if I can see some clue around, to give us an advantage” Se-mi nods, walking away.

You move close to the door where many players are still entering the room and soon In-house joins you.

“Run as fast as you can, it doesn’t if you end up alone in a room,” he says whispering in your ear.

“That would be cheating” you whisper back, checking around if Thanos and Namgyu were looking, but they weren’t.

“Then stick around me, especially if pairs are announced…” you know what he means. Thanos and Namgyu had been loyal to you. But they would likely team up and leave you alone at any time. “Okay”

He nods at you and watches you go back with Se-mi and Thanos.

“Pick your pill,” Thanos says smiling at you, handing his pendant and taking a pill for himself.

That’s the last thing you remember. Vague flashes of you running with your friends. And then you saw In-ho grabbing your hand and urging you to get inside a room. You believe he killed a man.

You don’t know what is happening. Each step you take makes you feel more and more dizzy. Your head feels heavy and the memory of you laughing in the male restrooms only to fade into the image of Thanos lying dead while Nam-gyu looks as shocked and under the effects of the drugs as you. A man accidentally pushing you and blood covering your hand after touching your arm.

You could still hear the mess inside the room. You cursed being the only woman inside there. And you somehow feel pity for Thanos. Making you realize nobody deserved to die inside the damn island.

One of the pink guards opened the door for you but could not recall it. A lot of people started looking at you.

“Young woman, What the hell happened inside the male restroom?” Player 100 asks you impatiently, but you don’t even look at him, you can’t hear him. “I’m talking to you, little brat!”

Gi-hun points at you and the group turns to see the scene. It’s In-ho the first one to step up, slowly walking towards you.

He hears Player 100 yelling at you and he cringes.

“It’s enough!” In-ho yells back in the distance.

Your hair is a mess, there’s blood all over your tracksuit. Your jacket is in your hand, barely grasping it, making an irritating sound with the zipper against the floor.

And your arm is bleeding.

Before In-ho can reach you, you faint.

A lot of people gasp and he runs towards you.

“BRING A DOCTOR!” he ordered to the pair of pink guards standing in a door.

They hesitated a couple of seconds, then quietly left. Nobody would know it was because player 001 was their leader. Everyone thought it was because someone was hurt outside of a game.

“What happened?” Gi-hun asked, kneeling beside In-ho. Both tried tapping in your cheeks but you seemed to be extremely disoriented.

People started gathering around and In-ho was tremendously trying not to look panicked.

“Hypotension and low blood pressure,” Jun-hee says, standing right next to Gi-hun and holding her belly. Gi-hun and In-ho turn to look at her.

“I took two semesters of nursing training,” the young woman says, trying to see the wound in your arm. “She needs stitches and something sugary or an IV”

In-ho takes your jacket and makes an improvised tourniquet in your arm, he breathes carefully, moving your head slowly, hoping to see you regaining consciousness.

The pink guards arrive and take you away, indicating no one else can follow.

Soon a crowd enters the room making a bloody mess.

…

You open your eyes, and every single thing you look at is green. Green like the room leading outside that In-house took you. The bed, the blanket covering your lower body, the little couch. Everything is green.

“Where did you get the drugs?” You almost jump, startled. A hand of yours ends on top of your chest and the heart rate monitor indicates an increase in your beatings.

“You’re safe here” In-ho is there, seated next to you. “But you kept doing stupid things outside…”

You stand your arm and see the stitches and dry blood. Your head throbs but it isn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

“The drugs were from… Thanos” You can’t believe he’s dead. Half of you expected him to leave and get out alive.

“You were so close to overdosing” he failed to not sound worried.

“Don’t tell me you are growing fond of me” You say the same thing he told you two nights ago, but he doesn’t smile. “I’m not playing, y/n”

“I’m sorry” you admit, looking at your hands. Finally feeling the weight of your actions.

“I’m convinced Seong Gi-hun will try to lead a rebellion” the man beside you adds, trying to soothe the tension. “He will try to stop the games”

“And would it be so bad? To end the games?” You ask surprising him. “There’s enough money to disappear from the country”

In-ho had thought about it but never did anything to make it true. However, now that had been growing fond of you, he could see himself running away. Almost…

“I would… but I can’t” You only nod, ignoring the tiny ache in your heart. You start trying to seat and he helps you.

You point at your dirty tracksuit and In-ho hands it, helping you to stand up at the same time.

“Seong Gi-hun will try to disarm the guards. If they are lucky they’ll succeed. Probably will recruit players to advance. You will volunteer and grab a gun” he sounds very serious, saying each word delicately as if he was scared you wouldn’t pay attention. “I know you can shoot and have good aiming. Your family used to take you to hunt deer in Scotland…”

“Damn well, you really know everything about me…” he rolled his eyes, making you realize he was indeed being serious. But his soft touch makes you feel weak. “Help me take off this thing, please”

“I’m not playing, y/n. That’s the only way I will be able to get you out of this if things turn against us. That’s the only way to save you…”

Your heart beats faster, and your hands feel numb. Even worse when you turn around and he untangles the laces in your patient gown. Your naked body flashes him and it takes all his strength to not touch you.

You take his vulnerability to ask what you had been trying to hide from yourself.

“Tell me why…” you say with your eyes lost, knowing he was staring at your soul. “Say those three words I’m desperately thinking and I’ll do anything you ask me to”

In-ho sighs, throwing his head back, he looks at his own feet, wondering what he should say.

You grow disappointed at his silence. And when you’re ready to leave, he stops you.

“I lov-“

You kiss him. You kiss him so deeply that it takes him by surprise.

His hands don’t know where to go but even with your eyes closed, you grab them and place them in your hips.

Soon, he takes control, just like you expected. Of course, he had to have experience. His lips expertly move against yours, and then his tongue perfectly melts with yours, leaving you made a mess.

“You didn’t let me say the three words…” he says, whispering in your lips as you pant for air.

“I thought you weren’t saying anything. It took me by surprise…” you admit, offering him a shy smile that he tries to mimic.

He wasn’t completely evil. He still had some humanity inside of him. He was conscious of his feelings and knew he wanted to protect you, to know you better, and see you alive, outside of the island.

“In-ho…”

“Hmm?” He asks as you lay your head on his chest. “Don’t hurt them…”

“That’s not on me, darling” Your wounded hand caresses his cheek and it makes him close his eyes. “Please, In-ho”

“You are going to go back with me. If Gi-hun succeeds, I won’t be able to protect you from this side of the island” he explains. “You’ll take a gun and stick with me. You don’t move away from me. You heard me?”

You nod, accepting his strong gaze on you.

“Promise me, y/n”

“I swear I’ll stick to you, In-ho,” you say, kissing him again. “I promise”

______________________

Salesman Valentine’s Day fic coming next Friday <3

#hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #frontman x reader #the frontman x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader #lee byung hun x reader

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etclouie · 2 days ago

Text

day seven — quiet comfort

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — summary; after a rough case, Aaron wants to be left alone but you want to help comfort him

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — warnings; established relationship, husband!hotch x wife!reader, grumpy x sunshine vibe kinda, reader pours them both a glass of wine (but no descriptions of actually drinking it), just taking care of hotch really — if i missed anything lmk!

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — word count; 500

ᯓ ꨄ︎ — a/n; i want to take care of him all day everyday

prev day | next day louie’s 14 days of love | main masterlist

you’d been lying on the couch when Aaron came home, and by the way he slammed the front door shut behind him you knew it had been a bad case.

quickly, you followed after him as he stalked towards your room. the bedroom door slamming just as the front door had, then the bathroom door.

carefully pushing open the bedroom door you heard the shower running, sitting on the bed as you waited for him.

when the bathroom door opened and a gulf of steam followed him out, you couldn’t help the frown that tugged at your lips.

you’d only ever seen Aaron like this a couple of times, but somehow this felt worse than the others.

“what happened?”

you asked softly, only to be brushed aside. you knew he didn’t really mean it, but when he got like this there’s no way of changing how you felt.

“don’t ignore me please”

you added, which pulled a sigh from him. he knew he shouldn’t take his mood out on you, and he moved quick to resolve it.

he pulled you towards him as he sat on the foot of the bed, his arms around your waist as his head lay against your stomach.

“i’m sorry”

he mumbled out to you, a soft hum leaving him as you brushed your fingers through the damp strands of his hair.

“bad case, shouldn’t take it out on you”

he continued, soothing his hands across your sides as he lifted his head. flashing you an apologetic look, before he pressed kisses up your sternum and towards your lips.

he paused against your lips until you pulled him closer, the tension leaving him as your lips pressed to his.

after a minute you murmured out to him again, his hands still roaming across your sides.

“let me take care of you”

and that’s what you did.

you left him to get dressed, parting with another kiss before you moved throughout the house again.

once in the kitchen, you started to prepare Aaron’s favourite meal before reaching for two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.

his footsteps grew closer as you popped the bottles cork, pouring a reasonable amount into each glass.

“what are you doing?”

he asked, stopping in the kitchens doorway as he watched you.

glancing over your shoulder to him as you answered him.

“taking care of you, you need a comforter”

you knew he was about to protest, but when you turned and faced him fully any compliant died on the tip of his tongue.

instead it was replaced by a softer smile again, walking towards you he cradled your face in both of his hands.

catching your lips in a gentle kiss before he whispered out to you.

“you’re too good to me”

the night was spent taking care of him and doing whatever it took to help him relax; the stress and built-up tension from his case long erased and replaced with the comfort of you in his arms.

reblogs are highly appreciated !

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kunareads · 1 day ago

Text

how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things

actor!satoru x popstar!reader

you and satoru fulfill the prophecy (he picks you up, pulls them down, turns you around).

prev / next

series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 4.7k

satoru "filthy mouth" gojo!!! i had to stop writing this multiple times because of what he does to me. PART 3 VALENTINE'S DAY (comment for taglist)

content: fluff and SMUT! even more tension, you and satoru are once again the subjects of internet speculation, making out, 69, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, pronebone, cowgirl, he's very much in control here

18+ please i block children <3

+++

the internet does what it does best: fill in the blanks.

neither of you say anything. no statements, no denials, no acknowledgments. but speculation spreads like wildfire.

it started small. the blurry afterparty photos, the red carpet chemistry dissection, the think pieces about hollywood's most unexpected flirtation. the usual.

then you post an instagram story.

nothing special. just a close-up of a wine glass, city lights blurred in the background. no context, no caption. but the fans? they think they know.

twitter erupts.

@/satorumess: not to be crazy but i mapped out their locations based on timestamps and—

@/fulltimeshipper: this is worse than when the CIA redacted half that UFO document

@/ynupdates: y/n posting a cryptic story the same night satoru is spotted downtown… oh we are in the trenches forreal

then, satoru likes a tiktok.

a slow-motion edit of you in your red carpet and afterparty looks, set to some dramatic song, captioned this woman is dangerous, your honor.

he doesn't comment, doesn't follow the account. just leaves one single like. and the internet implodes.

@/fandomedits: nah this isn't pr this is a man down BAD

@/popcultupdates: GOJO SATORU LIKING THIRST EDITS IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT WE HAVE LOST HIM COMPLETELY

@/ynstan: this man saw a slo-mo thirst edit and said "yeah let me cosign that"

but it gets worse.

an old clip resurfaces. a red carpet from last year. you and satoru, near each other but never interacting. a moment that meant nothing—until now.

fans slow it down, zoom in, analyze every tiny detail:

satoru steps onto the carpet, and your eyes flick toward him, barely noticeable.

he glances in your direction.

there's a beat where he exhales, seems to collect himself—something no one caught before.

and suddenly, it's evidence.

@/fathergojo: why do their interactions feel like deleted scenes from a romcom

@/yninvestigator: guys. GUYS. what do you MEAN she looked at him FIRST. what do you MEAN HE TOOK A BREATH AND LOOKED AWAY.

@/stanwars: suddenly i believe in fate. suddenly i understand greek tragedies.

apparently, none of this is new.

you and satoru are just catching up.

+++

satoru isn't good at waiting.

patience isn't exactly his strong suit, but when the reward is this good? he doesn't mind.

you walk in like the last week never happened. like the chaos never even registered.

the rooftop lighting catches the silk of your dress, the shine of your jewelry, the sheen of your lips. it makes you look untouchable.

attention follows you effortlessly. heads turn, backs straighten. someone says something, you smile—polite, charming, distant. you're impossible not to watch.

and satoru watches.

he's become acquainted with the effect you have, but it hits harder tonight than it did a week ago.

because now he knows how you taste.

the glass in his hand is cool, condensation falling between his fingers. he takes a sip, tracking you, cataloging details no one else would catch.

the way your shoulders shift, subtle, as you get closer.

the flick of your gaze toward him before you fully reach him.

you stop beside him, close enough for the scent of your perfume to settle between you.

a pause before you meet his eyes.

"so… how's your week been?" you ask, tone light, a smile gracing your features.

satoru exhales a laugh, tipping his glass like a toast. "surprisingly quiet. you?"

as you talk, your fingers trace the rim of your glass. he watches. you let him.

he leans in when he speaks. you don't move away.

he notices the way the waiter lingers, the way you dismiss it with a polite, distant smile.

you notice the way his expression shifts at that, just slightly. neither of you acknowledge it.

"you're kind of a nightmare," you tease.

satoru grins, unbothered. "funny. some people call me a dream."

you laugh and roll your eyes at him. he takes his time with his next sip, letting the tension settle. you're watching him watch you.

it would be easy to let you play this game, to see how long you can act like you're not as impatient as he is. but he leans in, voice quiet, just for you.

"you gonna make me wait?" low, taunting.

you could, but you don't. instead, you lean in too, meeting him halfway. you set your glass down carefully. he mirrors you.

someone—a bartender, another guest—tries to pull you into conversation, but you don't reply.

you lean into him, your voice calm but sure.

"let's go."

+++

streetlights skim over sleek black paint as the car pulls up, satoru swinging the door open. you barely take a step before his hand finds the small of your back, fingers pressing just enough to guide you.

he grins lazily. "last chance."

you roll your eyes as you step in. "so dramatic."

he closes the door after you and circles the car, the driver pulling off.

the backseat feels too small.

you cross your legs. his knee brushes against yours, and he doesn't move away. his hand rests on his thigh, relaxed, too close to yours. deliberate.

you pretend not to notice, but he knows better.

the silence is louder than words. the city blurs past the tinted windows, neon bleeding into the dark. the hum of the engine, the distant murmur of traffic, the faint pulse of something unsaid.

satoru exhales slowly, gliding his tongue over his teeth, thinking. he pushes a button, the partition rising.

you're both quiet, but it's a silent signal: stop pretending.

the second it clicks into place, he moves. or maybe you do. it doesn't matter. he's closer now, facing you, and you're already leaning in.

a beat. a sharp inhale.

his fingers skim your thigh, higher this time.

"i was trying to be good," you say quietly.

his voice drops, tight with restraint, and your breath catches. "don't."

the second the word leaves his lips, you're on him. a hand finds the back of his neck, drawing him in.

the first kiss is slow, but not reluctant. he drags it out because he can. he tilts his head, deepening it. he hums against your lips when you press closer, pleased.

his fingers tease higher. yours twist into his hair, nails scraping just enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

the car rolls to a stop.

neither of you move. not right away.

satoru's grip tightens, like he's considering pulling you onto his lap. like he could keep you here a little longer, let the city blur beyond the tinted glass while he takes his time.

instead, he drags his lips down your jaw, then lower. he breathes you in before murmuring, "upstairs."

+++

the door clicks shut, sealing you in. no music, no distant hum of the city, just quiet, dense and charged.

neither of you break the silence.

satoru steps in first. the air seems to crackle around him here the same way it does everywhere else.

you hold his stare, challenging. he waits.

a test. a game.

then, finally, you reach for him. his grin is lazy, knowing. like he was waiting for you to break first.

this kiss is purposeful. his lips brush yours—once, then again. a silent question, just the slow press of his mouth, the barely-there slide of his hands down your waist.

your fingers slip under his shirt, nails grazing skin, just enough to pull a slow, amused breath from him.

his hands find your hips, insistent, pulling you in until there's no space left. the shift makes you gasp into his mouth, and he drinks it in, looking smug, like he expected it.

like he's been waiting for this all week.

his grip tenses, like he's about to pull you closer—but then he's gone. his heat vanishes, his lips just a ghost of pressure before they disappear completely.

he barely moves when you chase him a bit, just tilts his chin, smiling. like he knew you wouldn't let him go. like he was counting on it.

you inhale, frustration sparking low in your chest, and you move before you think. your hands find his shirt, tugging him back in—but before you can, his fingers close around your wrists, catching you with ease.

his grin is knowing, his grip firm but teasing. he tilts his head, amusement spreading across his face.

"easy, princess," he murmurs, voice low, eyes flicking to your lips. "what's the rush?"

you arch a brow, fingers flexing in his grasp. "you did haul me out of the car."

his grin widens. "not like you put up a fight."

you push.

you press into him, backing him towards the wall. he lets you. lets you kiss him deeper, hands still wrapped around your wrists but relaxing, giving you room to move.

for a second, you think you've won.

then the world tilts and your back meets the wall with a gentle thud, your head tipping back slightly as he crowds you.

he smiles at you, eyes sparkling, enjoying himself too much. his hands settle at your waist, keeping you where he wants you.

you should be annoyed. instead, you match him and smirk right back.

you like the way he handles you.

+++

his touch is maddening.

his fingertips skate over your ribs, your stomach, but never where you need them. it's intentional and exploratory, like he has all the time in the world.

and he does. his apartment is a sanctuary from the mess of the last week. no prying eyes or a disgruntled kento to interrupt here.

you shift, trying to lead him downward, but he only chuckles, barely making a sound.

"you can be patient for me, can't you?" his voice dips lower, "or are you already too far gone?"

he's mocking you, and reflex kicks in—your thighs squeeze together, and you feel the heat creep up your neck when he notices.

his fingers ghost up your inner thighs, teasing warmth into your skin before retreating. every near-touch is calculated, just enough to remind you of how easily he could give you what you want.

he watches as impatience builds in your expression, as your breath stutters when his hands graze your waist again.

your nails press into his shoulders, a silent dare. before he can smirk, before he can gloat, you roll your hips against him, slow, deliberate. the response is immediate.

his breath falters, a groan through gritted teeth. his jaw tightens like he wasn't expecting you to test him. for a split second, he stills entirely.

you smile at him. message received.

"if you wanna ruin me, do it right, satoru." a taunt disguised as a whisper, just enough to chip at his restraint.

his hold turns bruising, like he wants to leave something behind. the teasing tone vanishes, his smirk dissolving into something darker. your breath catches—not in surprise, but excitement as something kindles in your stomach.

because suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

the realization barely registers before he has you pinned, wrists above your head, mouth at your ear.

"hope you know what you're asking for," he murmurs, hips flush against yours. his voice is different now—rough, heat twisting through every syllable. you shudder at the sound, your body responding. he makes good on his words immediately.

his hands find the backs of your thighs—then, suddenly, you're weightless, gasping, clutching at his shoulders. your legs draw around his hips, heat pooling fast.

a startled breath leaves you, but he's already moving, carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing at all.

+++

he drops you onto his bed, grinning at the glare you send him when you bounce.

you don't even get the chance to scold—his hands are already on you, pulling your panties down.

his teeth graze your inner thigh before he bites down, sharp enough to make you whine, hips squirming. he exhales with a smile. "thought so." his tongue follows—slow, indulgent, a promise to ruin you.

you've barely found your breath when he shifts, broad hands pressing into your thighs, spreading you open. his gaze lifts, dark and teasing.

"comfortable?" he asks, lips skimming the inside of your knee.

you roll your eyes, about to retort—but your fingers curl into the sheets instead when his mouth finds your core, hot and devastating.

your hips shift, back arching, and he hums against you, content.

you move the moment he adjusts—quick, decisive, hands pushing into his shoulders. he lets you shift the balance, rolling onto his back, breath catching when he opens his eyes to find you above him.

your fingers work fast, tugging at his belt, yanking it free with a sharp pull. you work on the button, the zipper, pulling the fabric down just enough to free him.

he was so fucking cocky a second ago. now, he's not even breathing right, body taut under your hands. so you stroke once, then twice, then take him into your mouth.

no warning, no reluctance.

his grip tightens on your thigh, breath punching out like you knocked it loose. his head tilts back, jaw tensing, a soft "fuck—just like that, baby" escaping him.

you hum around him, pleased, tongue teasing, and he swears again under his breath. his hands fist into the sheets, trying to ground himself.

but satoru doesn't like being outmatched.

his fingers skate up your thigh, squeezing. and then his mouth is on you, tongue dragging through your folds, slow and deep.

you gasp against him, body tensing, and he grins.

"that's better," he mutters against you, lips brushing sensitive skin before his tongue circles once, twice.

the sound you make is muffled around him, and he groans in response, the vibration rolling through you both.

you try to keep a rhythm, fingers curling at the base as you sink down, but every time his tongue moves just right, every time he sucks at your clit, you falter.

he notices, and he loves it.

his hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as he buries his face deeper, determined, fucking into you with his tongue, sending you to the edge without mercy.

you try to keep going, try to keep your lips wrapped around him, but every nerve in your body is on fire, pressure winding as you moan around him.

he grins against you. "that's it, princess. lemme hear it."

his fingers dig into your skin, tightening as he licks into you with purpose, drawing desperate sounds from your throat.

it's too much. you pull your mouth off of him, panting, lips slick and hips twitching against his face as the bliss hits all at once, unraveling you from the inside out.

"satoru, fuck," you gasp, the words nearly unintelligible through your moans. you can't do anything but let it consume you, your body seizing before the release finally drives through you.

you gasp, sharp and unsteady, his name tumbling past your lips again, voice cracking into a whine.

satoru doesn't stop until you're shaking, your legs weak, pleasure rolling over you in dizzying, tormenting waves.

only when your thighs twitch, too sensitive, does he finally pull away. his face is wet, and he's breathless. he presses one last kiss to the inside of your thigh before looking up at you, eyes dark and lazy.

"you're fucking perfect," he murmurs, voice hoarse, before flipping you onto your stomach, pressing you into the mattress.

+++

you're still coming down when he lifts your hips, tucking a pillow underneath them.

his breath is warm against your shoulder, steady and grounding. his lips trail down your spine, flirting, savoring the way you squirm. a hand settles on your hip possessively, making sure you don't slip away.

his other hand trails lower, sliding between your legs, fingers pressing in—gradually, unhurried, teasing the mess he left behind.

"fuck, baby—you're dripping for me." his voice is all rough edges and satisfaction, murmured against your ear. you shiver. his fingers slide through your folds, spreading your slick, teasing the spot he knows will make you gasp.

"been thinking about this all week," he mumbles, kissing the curve of your neck. his fingers dip lower, pushing inside, slow and deep. "bet you have, too."

you whimper, and he smirks against your skin.

"should've had you like this that night. should've fucked you right up against that wall."

his fingers move at an unbearable pace, curling, pressing into the spot that makes your knees weak. your hips jerk, but he holds you still.

"needy, huh?" his breath is burning against your ear, teasing, smug. "tell me how bad you want it, baby."

your fingers clutch the sheets, patience fraying. you should fight him— push back, make him work for it—but you're too far gone for games.

"satoru—"

his fingers stall. "mm, not good enough."

"want you," you gasp, growing desperate. "need you inside me."

he groans like you just hit him where it hurts. he pulls his hand away, leaving you empty for barely a second before the thick of him replaces them.

he slips the tip through your folds, slick and teasing, but doesn't push in. "this what you wanted?" he asks, rougher now.

"yes."

"say it again."

your breath stutters, but you give him what he wants. "yes. please," you gasp.

his hands flex against your hips, keeping you still as he pushes forward, stretching you open with an unrelenting drag that knocks the air from your lungs. it's almost too much—almost—but you want all of it. you take all of him.

he moves in slowly, and a shaky gasp escapes as he bottoms out, deep inside you, holding himself there, letting you feel it.

his breath is ragged now, his exhale hot against your skin. "fuck."

his hands slide up your sides, guiding you, holding you where he needs you.

"you feel so fucking good," he breathes, voice dipping into something ruined.

his hips roll, deep and slow, like he wants to feel everything. like he wants to make this last.

you think for a second that you won't survive at this pace.

satoru brings his body lower, pressing his chest flush against your back, all heat and tension, breath ghosting over your shoulder as he sinks in.

his arms slip under yours, palms spreading over your shoulders, drawing you into him. not just pulling you back, but owning the space between you.

hi thrusts are indulgent, stretching, coating himself in you. his breath is uneven, satisfaction humming in your ear.

you push your hips back into him, matching his rhythm.

satoru exhales a sharp breath, fingers digging in. "you trying to make me lose it?"

you don't answer, just push back harder on instinct.

his response is immediate—a sharp, precise thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, ripping a moan from your throat before you can swallow it down.

"thought so," he murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder.

his pace turns deep and steady—controlled, measured. he brings his face close to yours, wanting to watch you react, to feel you tighten around him with every movement.

but you're impatient. you shift, pressing up onto your elbows, angling your hips just enough to take him deeper.

his pace stutters. he swears under his breath, voice raw, and one arm locks around your waist. he holds you in place as he fucks into you now, hard enough to leave you trembling, helpless against the bed.

his name leaves your lips, breathless and desperate.

"fuck—it's so good," he groans, half-choked, messy. his face buries into your neck, hands gripping like he's holding on for dear life. "let me hear you, baby."

you can barely think, barely breathe. his hand slides between your legs, fingers finding that spot, pressing slow, teasing circles.

"satoru—"

he chuckles, low and smug, but there's an edge to it now, a tension in the way his hips stutter, his movements losing their precision.

and then you tighten around him, body seizing, pleasure cresting all at once—

"fuck," he bites out, breathless, grip tightening like he's trying to hold on.

and then—he pulls out.

a sharp inhale, the loss making you gasp, but before you can even form a thought—

he flips you over.

"not done with you yet," he mutters, voice rough, gaze dark as he hovers over you.

+++

and just like that, everything shifts.

his hands find you the second he pulls out—a sharp, dizzying shift as he flips you over, settling beneath you. his hands slide up your ribs, brush over your breasts, then slide back down.

his fingers splay wide on your hips, steadying you, but it's his gaze that pins you in place. "wanna see you like this," he murmurs, voice low, still rough from before.

your lips part, but the way he looks at you makes it hard to tease. instead, your nails drag down his chest, unhurried, feeling his abs tense beneath your touch.

"yeah?" you breathe.

his fingers flex, tightening just slightly. "yeah, baby. show me how bad you want it."

you wrap your fingers around him, stroking once, slow and teasing, just to watch him squirm.

his jaw clenches, but he doesn't push. he lets you take your time, lets you set the pace, struggling to hold back.

you don't make him wait long.

you line him up and sink down, savoring the stretch—the way he exhales, sharp and shaky, fingers digging in.

"fuck," he breathes, watching you, eyes dark, half-lidded, all heat.

one of your hands finds his shoulders, nails scraping lightly as you start to move. the other moves down to where you're connected, feeling just how far he spreads you open.

at first, it's slow—like you're figuring each other out all over again. a careful roll of your hips, tension simmering, teasing at something deeper.

but it doesn't last.

his grip firms, guiding you down, matching your rhythm. he thrusts up to meet you with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs.

"you feel me, princess?" he asks, pulling you down harder, deeper.

you answer him with a desperate little whimper that makes him melt.

both of your movements are messy, desperate—like you both know exactly where this is going and you need to get there.

your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping, tugging just slightly, and he hisses, eyes squeezing shut for a second.

his hands slide up your spine, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing to yours, breathing hard.

"you feel so fucking good," he murmurs, almost a whine. "so wet for me, so fucking perfect."

you can't even speak. your thoughts blur, pleasure winding tight, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

he shifts beneath you, angling deeper, hitting exactly where you need him. the sudden jolt of pleasure makes your whole body tighten, makes you let out a sound you didn't mean to make—

a loud, broken moan, breathy, helpless.

his head snaps up, eyes wild, something cracking behind them—like he just lost his last thread of control.

"oh," his breath shudders, grip tightening. "oh."

and then he's gone.

he snaps his hips into yours, his hands gripping, guiding, setting a pace that's relentless, that has you gasping, nails biting into his shoulders.

your vision goes hazy, body tightening, winding up unbearably fast. you try to tell him you're close, but all that comes out is a shaky, broken "satoru—"

"oh, fuck—there it is," he breathes, voice dropping, eyes dark and triumphant. "knew you'd sound so fucking sweet falling apart for me."

his hand finds your clit, pressing just right—teeth gritting as he holds on, watching you break first.

and you shatter.

it slams into you, sharp and consuming, a shockwave rolling through your body. your breath stutters, a broken gasp stumbling free as you tighten around him, locking him in.

he feels it—the way you pulse around him, the way you tremble, how your moans dissolve into something helpless. it undoes him. his arm slides your waist, his other hand finding the back of your neck, and he pulls you closer like he needs you.

he curses as you tremble against him, holding you close, burying himself deep in you as he falls apart.

your name leaves his lips like a prayer, breathless, reverent. he groans against your skin as he finally spills into you. pleasure crashes through him, and for a moment, all he can do is feel **the heat of you, the way you throb around him, the way your body takes him like you were made for this.

for a second, you both stay still; the only sound between you is the sharp, uneven puff of breath.

your hands shake against his chest. his fingers are still locked around your waist.

he exhales a wrecked laugh, warm and lazy against your temple.

"so fucking worth the wait," he murmurs, voice low, sated. he kisses all over your face, palm smoothing down your spine. "knew you'd be perfect for me."

+++

the morning light spills through the curtains, golden and soft, warming tangled sheets and bare skin. everything is still. quiet, but not empty. satoru is warm against you, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. at some point in the night, your leg found its way between his, one of his arms draped lazily over your waist.

you shift, stretching slightly, and his fingers flex at your hip, like some part of him refuses to let you go.

he murmurs something unintelligible, voice low and drowsy. then, with a slow, easy smile against your skin, "stay."

you huff a quiet laugh. "clingy."

"mmm," he hums, voice is thick with sleep. "you're warm."

he still hasn't opened his eyes. he just shifts a little, nestling deeper into you. his fingers pressing idly into your hip, like he's memorizing the shape of you beneath them.

you stay like that for a while.

you steal a button-up from his closet when you finally get up, slipping it over your shoulders before following him into the bathroom. he doesn't comment, just flicks his gaze over you, lips twitching, before rummaging through a drawer. a moment later, he presses a spare toothbrush into your palm.

"definitely took you for the clingy type."

he grins, stretching lazily against the counter. "not my fault you're so soft."

you brush your teeth side by side, bleary-eyed in the mirror. he stands just a little too close, bumping into your arm like he can't help himself.

and when you head back to bed, he follows, catching your wrist just before you climb in, guiding you back under the covers with ease.

"wait." his lips brush your shoulder. "just stay there."

"i am staying," you point out, amused.

"good," he hums, pressing one last kiss to your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

satoru returns minutes later, two mugs in hand. he sets yours on the nightstand before wordlessly disappearing back to the kitchen.

you wait until you smell breakfast, then you get up and follow the scent out to his kitchen island.

he doesn't ask if you're hungry. he just plates your food and sets it in front of you without a second thought.

you steal sips from his juice between bites, and he lets you, just watching, amused, eyes flicking toward you over the rim of his glass.

soft touches happen naturally, thoughtlessly.

his palm finds the small of your back when he moves past you, warm and steady.

your fingers brush when you both reach for the same thing.

his knuckles graze your thigh when he leans back against the counter.

none of it feels unfamiliar.

you stay longer than you expected to. he doesn't call you out on it.

the goodbye is unserious, drawn out in a way that makes it obvious neither of you is in a rush.

"try not to miss me too much," you tease, pulling on your shoes with a grin.

he smiles, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. "oh, i will."

his tone is playful, but something about the way he says them makes you hesitate, just for a second.

and as you step out, just before it closes behind you, he calls after you.

"i'll be thinking about you, y'know."

tags (ongoing): @moonchhu @httpstoyosi @lavnder311 @harryzcherry @perkypeony @katecupcakekate @hellicify @oh-my-god-donald @jupiterbinnie @i88b0nten @satxoru @chuuminn @moncher-ire @r0ckst4rjk @flwerie @raendarkfaerie @pinksdump @blkmystery

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vampzity · 13 hours ago

Text

restrictions | S.CB

★ DAY NINE: BONDAGE WITH CHANGBIN ★

pairing: bf! changbin x f! reader

Changbin never liked it when you misbehaved. It drove him nuts and you knew that. Yet you loved every punishment and every restraint that came with it. He was bound to show you what exactly happens when you go against him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, dom! changbin, bondage, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, spanking , slight choking??, pet names (baby, slut, doll, pretty, good girl), cursing, changbin sees mc as his “doll”

word count: 1.5k

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

Changbin stormed into your shared bedroom, seeing that you were still dressed in your light blue babydoll dress and white heels. The babydoll was see through, enough to show the matching lingerie set you wore underneath.

You sat on the bed, arms crossed as he yelled at you. He slammed the door behind him, beyond annoyed with your impulsive actions.

“You never told me your friends were coming over. You just told me to sit in the room and wait.”

You pouted at him, looking away from the harsh glare he gave you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he walked over to the dresser. He opened it, shuffling through it as you attempted to reason with him.

“I just wanted to show you my outfit. You forgive me, right Binnie?”

You received no answer, watching as he chuckled to himself. You tried to peek around him only to no avail as his figure was a lot bigger than your line of vision.

“I try to give you benefit of the doubt, give you some freedom.” Changbin closed the drawer, placing the things he grabbed on the top of the dresser.

“But you keep testing my patience, over and over.”

He turned around, walking over to your body. A large red ribbon was roped in his hands, his once calm look now a cold one. Your gaze met his as he waited for you to put your hands out. You kept them to yourself, knowing that there was no use in reasoning with him at this point.

He held his hand out, signaling for you to put both of your wrists out for him. You shook your heard in refusal, unsure of how unruly his punishment would be this time around. He sighed one of disappointment, rolling his eyes.

“You have 5 seconds before I start tallying.”

You immediately held your arms out, looking down as you tried to avoid his gaze. He wrapped the ribbon around your wrists, tying them together tight enough to cut off your circulation. He pulled you by your hands, bringing you to your feet so that you stood in front of him.

Your eyes still averted him, but he was quick to hold your chin up. His eyes hung low, a small smile painting his face as the grip on your chin tightened.

“Listen to me, and listen real good.”

He unbuckled his pants, letting the zipper fall. His buldge poked out from his underwear, ready to burst out of them. He pulled out his cock, pushing your shoulder down so that you sat on your knees. You eyed his member, watching how it throbbed in front of you as his hand ruffled through your hair.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty face of yours, and when I’m done,” he glanced over to the bed, his eyes falling to the hooks that would hold your ropes.

“I’ll be sure to put good use of this little dress you put on for me.”

Your heart sank, meeting his low eyes. He smirked at you, tapping his tip against your lip softly. He smeared his head against your lips, groaning at how soft they felt.

“Be a doll and open for me will you?”

You did as you were told, allowing him to slip his length into your mouth. He let out a soft groan, moving his hips slowly. His hand held the back of your head as he fucked your face, being careful to make sure you don’t choke.

He let go of your head, nodding at you to continue while he stood there. You swirled your tongue around his cock head, looking up to see him smirk at you. Drool seeped from the side of your mouth and into your chest, while coating his dick in the process.

Changbin tilted his head at you, sighing at how slow you were being with him. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, making a yelp escape you as you flinched under his touch.

“You think that’s funny, eh?!” You quickly shook your head no, afraid of his sudden remark.

He grabbed your head, shoving his cock back inside of your mouth and fucking you harshly. You gagged repeatedly as his head pushed against the back of your throat, feeling slight mounts of air leaving you. Your teeth grazed against the skin of his length, making a loud groan leave his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck baby..”

He slammed his cock into your mouth, admiring the drool dripping down your chin. Changbin wasn’t average either, oh no. He was big. He had girth and unfortunately for you, he was going to make you take it.

He pushed your head against his dick as he fucked you, throwing his head back in pleasure. Spirts of his precum lined your mouth, his dick throbbing in agony as he tried so hard to hold himself back. His thrust grew harder by the second, unable to keep himself in check as he got sloppy with you.

Hot loads of his cum filled your mouth as he continued to fuck himself through his orgasm. His cum dropped down from your chin onto your chest, nearly choking on as you were helpless with no hands to use.

“That’s it pretty, swallow it all like a good girl.”

Changbin pulled his cock out of you, watching as you licked the remains off his tip. He smirked, dragging you up by your arms and sitting you on the bed.

He undid the ribbon, switching it to one side as he placed another red ribbon on the other. He tied them to the hooks of the bed, keeping you in a position where your ass was facing him. He pulled on the restraints, making sure they were secure before walking over to the dresser and pulling something from ontop of it.

Changbin walked back over to you, pulling down his pants and getting into bed with you. He tied a gag ball around your face, stuffing the gag into your mouth and tied extra ribbon around your ankles, keeping your legs in place so you couldn’t move at all.

“Since you want to walk around like you’re some kind of slut.” he held a vibrator to your clit, turning it onto the highest setting.

“You can get treated like one too.”

He moved the toy against your bud, earning an overwhelming amount of moans and whimpers from you, only for them to be blocked by the gag. He rubbed the head of his cock slowly, watching as your legs shook uncontrollably at the pressure.

“Not so sorry now, huh?”

You stood there helpless as he abused your pussy, body feeling weak as your climax built inside of you. A loud smack rang through your ears, your ass suddenly tingling from the sensation that made you cry out.

“See how obedient you are for me?” he landed another smack to your ass, your skin turning a light shade of red. “That’s how I like you to be.”

He held his dick and rubbed it against your wet entrance before pushing himself in. He groaned in pleasure, taking his thrusts slow as he held the vibrator to your clit. A white ring formed around his member, as you had already let yourself go under the pressure.

“Aw cummed already? I hope you know that I’m not done with you babydoll.”

He held the vibrator against your clit, letting his thrusts fasten as you cried out in pleasure. Your cunt squeezed around him, barely able to take all of him in from how tight you were. You tugged at the bondage, body shaking from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. I gotta open you up.”

Changbin spread your ass slightly, admiring at how stretched out you were becoming for him. Your pussy was swollen from his girth, from the constant abuse he gave it.

You whimpered, struggling to say anything as the gag made it harder for you. He dropped the vibrator, grabbing onto your waist and ramming into your sore cunt. You cried out, begging for him to slow down as his cock forced your walls open. His head brushed against your sweet spot, pounding it with every thrust.

“You’re such a good girl for me baby.” he threw his head back, cursing at the ceiling with every squeeze your cunt gave him.

“Look at how well you’re taking me, fuck.”

He leaned over your fragile body, kissing your back softly. His nails dug into your skin, your ass growing sore from how hard he pounded into you. He grabbed onto your hair, pulling your head back as you whimpered in pleasure.

“Gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours baby. Need you leaking.”

Changbin smacked your ass for a last time, sweat trickling down his forehead as you struggled to keep your body from falling apart underneath him.

In no time he let out a loud moan, letting himself go inside of you. He worked his cum into your hole, being sure to not let any spill out of you before pulling out. He watched your hole ache for his size, slightly stretched from the abuse. He kissed your lower back softly, kneading his fingers into your ass.

“Next time you’ll know not to test my patience, isn’t that right doll?”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: YIPPEE DAY 9! lowkey thinking of doing a bonus special when this is all done. i’m thinking twt links for ateez & skz ? 🤭

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

#—♡vampzity #—♡︎vamp’s valentines #—♡︎vamp’s hard hours #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #changbin stray kids #seo changbin

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cinnawonbabe · 13 hours ago

Text

ATTENTION, PLEASE!

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

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