#watch this character take his last breath
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poppetsisters · 2 days ago
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There's this really cool horror trope I've noticed lately of a villain being introduced in a simplified, unscary form, but later evolving into something so detailed and terrifying, it takes your breath away.
This is not the same as a traditional metamorphosis like in body horror cinema because the trope relies on the medium it uses to sell the scare.
Minor spoilers for Don't Hug Me I'm Scared. Major spoilers for Inscryption and I Saw The TV Glow
To introduce you to the concept, I'm just gonna show you the Care Hound from Don't Hug Me I'm Scared.
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It's the Carehound alright, or rather a pictorial representation of the Carehound. But how do they look in real life?
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Ah.
Like the rest of the show, this is both terrifying and hilarious. You think because it's a 2D representation of the dog that the eyes on the side of the head are just artistic license, but then he turns toward you and you realise no actually, he literally has two eyes on each side! Genius. 10/10 joke.
But you see what I mean right? You're given a disarming image of the antagonist so that later, they can pull the rug out from under you with the truth. And there's an element of adaptation limitation that is then broken through. Suddenly the artifice doesn't feel so fake, and you're pulled in.
Now let's talk about Inscryption. Ironically, the game does this in reverse. Though Leshy is hidden in shadow during most of Act 1, we see his evolved form first.
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and when Act 2 starts, we see what he was like before.
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I believe this was done to de-fang our feral card master after having been our antagonist the whole game. Where once he was powerful polygons, he is now pitiful pixels.
But while all this has been happening, the real threat has been hidden in our deck this whole time.
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P03 was introduced to us as nothing more than one card in our deck. He wasn't even a good card. But now it's Act 2 and we realise he, along with the other three Scrybes were trapped in lesser forms by Leshy when he took control of the game. For a whole act, we see something close to a status quo with these guys, who bicker and fight over control of the disc.
We see P03's true form in all it's 16-bit glory, as well as the environment he inhabits. While atmospheric, you can tell the graphics hold him back. He seems so small and pitiful. Simple and limited.
and then he takes control.
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The first time I played this section, there was something so visceral about the leap. I stopped seeing P03 as an NPC inside a 90s TDC and was forced to see him as an entity haunting a cursed floppy disc. Once again, the artifice made me too comfortable, and now anything that felt more real than that became hyper real.
and no movie pulled this off quite has effectively as I Saw The TV Glow.
I am once again flashing a spoiler warning. If you haven't seen I Saw The TV Glow, do not continue reading until you have.
We are introduced to Mr Melancholy as the antagonist of a young adult fantasy series called The Pink Opaque.
Not as the antagonist of the movie we're watching, but the villain of the TV show within the movie.
Right off the bat, Mr Melancholy isn't even on our radar. Even worse, the special effects they use to portray him are laughable.
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We see him once again as our lead characters stare dreamily up into the sky, further re-enforcing how silly this guys looks. I mean come on, he looks like an uncooked pancake!!
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That all changes when Owen sits down to watch the final episode of The Pink Opaque, which was mysteriously cancelled after a cliffhanger ending.
The build up and climax to what happens next is one of the most harrowing cinema experiences I've had in my entire life. This is your final spoiler warning.
Isabel and Tara, the two leads in the Pink Opaque, are kidnapped by Mr Melancholy's henchmen and brought face to face with the moon man himself.
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He looks... good. No, good isn't the right word... he looks convincing. The visual effects between the last time we saw him to now jumped a literal century, and combined with the crt filter hide any possible cg imperfections. In short, it make him look like he's really in the scene.
Or rather... that he's really in the room.
He gets closer, explaining his plan to trap the girls in a realm without magic or memory, where they will suffocate in the nightmare. Where they don't remember the powers they have, or the people they are. where you don't even notice the aspect ratio switched.
Where you don't even remember that you're dying.
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and just like that, Mr Melancholy becomes the most real thing in the entire world. He becomes YOUR villain, he's trying to kill YOU! He's already succeeded in killing YOU. YOU are SUFFOCATING right now and you don't even KNOW!
and that's when you remember to breathe.
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kisses4kaia · 2 days ago
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nobody does it better by carly simon but it’s the radiohead cover and it’s patrick… cw: DISGUSTING smut with this evil man, no less no more . im shameless.
a/n: so we all know the photo. and what ThePhoto did to me was… this! enjoy. 😌
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the room is loud. there’re a million people you could be talking to, looking at. a hundred people you could sit in the corner and people watch, but his eyes are on you. and you cannot look away.
patrick zweig was a reoccurring character in your life. starting off as low-commitment boyfriend freshman year, turning to effervescent fuckbuddy you could never get far enough away from to become detached. you hated him, god, you hated the pull on you he had. the iron grip that steeled you right where you were across the room from him, eyes locked like a guarded palace onto his. good lord.
it truly takes the will of god to keep your feet planted where they are, forcing yourself to divert your eyes from him. but, never fear, he’s already moving towards you.
his towering presence is felt immediately as he stands in front of you, looking down into your eyes as if he can hear your heart pounding regardless of the blaring song around him.
“hey,” he says quietly, tone soft but gravelly, as if there wasn’t a sound barrier around the two of you that might keep you from hearing him. “what do you want, zweig? your voice comes out more pointedly than you intended, but with the way your pulse is thrumming and your hands are shaking, you can hardly blame yourself.
looking at you with that look in his eye, the one that almost mocks you as to say ‘got ya’, he cranes his neck down to whisper in your ear. “what do you want?” and he knows.
patrick turns without another word, and before you can process what you’re doing, your feet are moving with him, as if a collar was wrapped around your neck, choking your senses, and the leash was hanging haphazardly from his hand.
his path leads you into a bathroom, small, no shower, with a buzzing, lagging light. his hands are on your waist as soon as you step through the door, pushing you against it. patrick doesn’t kiss you immediately, unusual for him. “i miss you,” he breathes out, nervously, and it is jarring.
patrick zweig is not nervous, ever. he was self sure and confident and a fucking dickwad who knew it and embraced it as part of his “charm”. “yeah? and how many girls have you said that to, hm? britney posted you on her story yesterday, patrick. last friday, it was ántonia. fuck you,” you spat out, the 3… maybe 4 vodka sours you indulged in half an hour ago making your head pound, or maybe it was his dior sauvage.
he sighs, looking away from you impatiently, but when his eyes lands back on you, his gaze is crazed. “fuck, they don’t matter to me. i don’t know their last names, i don’t know their little siblings, they don’t know my favorite band, and i don’t look them in the eye when i fuck them. shit, baby, it’s you, don’t you realize? always fucking you,”
oscar winning preformance, is what you want to say, but his exasperated exhale after the words come out, paired with the rihanna song dully thrumming behind the door, bass vibrating against the wood, you look between his eyes, down at his lips, and your eyes don’t travel again before you smash your mouth onto his.
never fucking again, you tell yourself as his lips move in desperate, hungry, almost disbelieving tandem with yours. this is the last time.
“do you have a boyfriend?” he breathes out between kisses as he unbuckles your belt and unbuttons your jeans, shimmying them off. “like that’d make you walk out right now,” you kiss him again, biting his lower lip. “fuck. no, fuck no, but if you do, i’m going to make you remember exactly why nobody does it better.”
patrick lifts you effortlessly and places you on the sink, pulling your sticky, lacy panties to the side, smirking that evil damn smirk at the fancy little bow at the top. “did you know i was gonna be here tonight?” he nibbles as your ear, bringing loving bites down your jugular to your shoulder.
“no, but i knew art would be.” your smile is devious as his eyes light up, not with jealousy, but with the same fire he gets when he realizes his opponent on the other side of the net is really playing with him, when they’re really playing fucking tennis.
patrick jerks himself once or twice, languidly, before sliding his cock into you. a hardly contained whine pulls from your voice, and your mouth drops into an ‘o’ at the stretch. he nearly has you in an embrace, the way he’s holding you closely against his chest, and his curls are begging to be pulled. you entwine your finger with the hair at the nape of his neck and tug with every sharp thrust into your leaking pussy.
“more, give me more, patrick, don’t hold back on me, asshole.” he doesn’t even respond, just obediently lifts you up every so slightly off the sink and moves you on and off of his cock, giving him a much wider range of motion. his dick is nearly completely out of you each time his hips snap back, but you’re moaning like a pornstar each time he’s in again.
his ability to hit that spot inside of you with near perfect accuracy every fucking time is expert, a skill that could only be acquired by someone so in tune with your pleasure—and if patrick zweig was nothing else, he was that.
“fuck, gonna, shit! gripping me so fucking tight, leaking all over my shit, baby. she miss me? huh, pretty? you miss me?” he was talking right through you, each word penetrating your deepest desires and fantasies. you hated how he knew you. you hated that you let him. but most of all, you hated how close you were to coming.
he keeps fucking you unforgivingly, whining and moaning like a whore all the while. “you still on that pill?” he asked, voice pitchy and annoying and sexy.
“no, insurance stopped covering it.” you say seriously, and you can’t keep your laughter in when his thrusts slow and he looks at you panicked. “i’m fucking with you, don’t stop,”
“you’re evil, you know that?” he says endearingly, playful as always, and it’s no more than a minute later that he’s coming inside you.
patrick never was a selfish lover, so it came as no surprise that after pulling his softening girth from you, not one, not two, but three of his finger were quickly pumping in and out of you, making him moan sluttishly at the way his own cum coated his fingers. his other hand made busy circling your clit with his thumb, fast and calculatedly.
he knew every button to push because he sewed them onto you, and so it was no surprise that with that special angling of his wrist, you were coming undone on his fingers in minutes.
it’s quiet for the next few minutes, you cleaning yourself up, patrick washing his hands, the both of you redressing in silence.
“so… same time tomorrow?” he smiles at you, pleased with himself and sure your answer will be affirmative.
you walk up to him, smile, kiss him tenderly on his lips, let your heels touch the ground again softly. “go fuck yourself, patrick.” your words are sharp but your tone is sickly sweet, and patrick recovers from his shock quickly, smirking stupidly.
“after that, i most definitely will be.”
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aspenmissing · 11 hours ago
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hey, first of all i want to say that i love your writing and style! could you please do arcane characters (jinx, silco, jaycee, victor, vander) with a reader who’s a mercenary? like what their reactions would be, would they accept it or not, the relationship dynamics
ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ?
ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 7291 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ (ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)
ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ! <3
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ
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JAYCE
The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the machines Jayce had been working on. The golden light of the sunset streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Y/N stood by the door, her coat already on, fingers tracing the outline of the weapon at her hip.
“Where are you going?” Jayce’s voice broke the silence, heavy with suspicion. His eyes flicked between her and the door.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice steady, but there was an undeniable tension in her posture. “I’ve got a job to do, Jayce.”
Jayce stood from his workbench, brow furrowed. “A job? At a time like this?”
Y/N met his gaze, but there was an air of detachment about her now, a barrier she’d put up without realizing. “I don’t have the luxury of waiting around, Jayce. I need to work.”
Jayce took a few steps toward her, confusion and concern written on his face. “It’s late, Y/N. What kind of job requires you to leave now?” He crossed his arms, unwilling to let her go without an explanation. “You’ve been so distant lately... What’s going on?”
Y/N looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes. The truth of it—whatever her job was—felt too complicated to explain, even to him. She hadn’t expected it to come to this, but she couldn’t back out now.
“I’m just doing what needs to be done,” she said quietly, her voice betraying no hint of vulnerability. “I’ll be back soon. You don’t need to worry.”
Jayce’s gaze hardened, his frustration starting to bubble over. “I do need to worry, Y/N. You’re disappearing in the middle of the night, and you won’t even tell me why. I want to understand, but you’re shutting me out.”
The quiet tension between them deepened, his worry unmistakable. He wanted to keep pushing, to demand more, but he could see the look on her face—the quiet resolve that made him take a step back. She wasn’t going to tell him, not now, and she wasn’t giving him a choice.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, Y/N spoke again, softer this time. “I’m not asking for your permission, Jayce. I’m not asking for your approval.”
Jayce took a slow breath, his mind racing. He had never seen her like this, so closed off, and it gnawed at him. “I don’t want to control you. I just... don’t understand.”
Y/N looked at him one last time, her eyes softening slightly, but her resolve remained firm. “I’ll explain when I can. Just... trust me, okay?” Her voice was quiet but insistent.
Jayce swallowed, his frustration mixing with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. He nodded, though the knot in his chest remained tight. “Okay, Y/N. But I don’t like this.”
With a final glance at him, Y/N stepped out into the night, the door closing behind her softly. Jayce stood still for a long moment, watching the space where she had been, his mind spinning with unanswered questions. He didn’t know what she was doing or why she was leaving so late, but he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t going to stop thinking about it.
=
The hours passed slowly, the silence in the apartment weighing heavily on Jayce. He had been cleaning, trying to distract himself from the ache in his chest. He picked up the stray papers and straightened the furniture, but his mind kept returning to the argument. Her words. The cold finality of it all.
As he moved into their bedroom, something caught his eye—a loose floorboard in the corner of the closet. It had always been there, but tonight, his curiosity got the better of him. He bent down, prying the board up with a creak. His heart raced when he saw what lay beneath it: a stash of money, far more than they’d ever had in the apartment. Along with it were weapons—blades, smoke bombs, and a few tools that looked disturbingly familiar. And then, the papers.
A hit list.
Names, dates, locations. His hand trembled as he skimmed through it. Some of the names were ones Y/N had mentioned in passing, but he’d never thought much of them. Now, seeing it laid out so coldly in front of him, the truth hit him like a punch to the gut.
She wasn’t just working. She was a mercenary. A killer. All this time, she’d been living a life of violence, and he had been blind to it.
Jayce’s stomach churned. He had known something wasn’t right, but this... this was beyond anything he’d imagined. His breath hitched as he placed the papers down gently, trying to steady himself. He felt betrayed, but not in the way he expected. This wasn’t about her safety—it was about who she was. The person he loved was capable of taking lives, and he couldn’t ignore that.
The door creaked open a few hours later. Y/N stepped in, her eyes immediately finding his. She froze at the look on his face.
“Jayce,” she began, her voice hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure how to face him after everything.
“No,” Jayce cut her off, his voice low but firm. His heart pounded in his chest, his fists clenched. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me anymore.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as she realized what he was talking about.
“I found it, Y/N,” Jayce continued, his voice thick with anger and disbelief. “I found everything—the money, the weapons, the list. I know what you’ve been doing. I know who you are.”
Her eyes flickered toward the floorboard, and Jayce saw the guilt flash in her eyes. She hadn’t expected him to find it. But now that he had... there was no denying it.
“I didn’t want you to see this,” she whispered, her voice small. “I didn’t want to drag you into it.”
Jayce stepped forward, his face twisted with a mixture of hurt and fury. “You’ve been lying to me, Y/N. All this time, you’ve been living a double life. And I—I thought I knew you. I thought we were building something real. But now I find out this? This is who you really are?”
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t look away. She didn’t deny it. “This is who I was, Jayce. This is what I’ve been trying to escape. But it doesn’t just go away.”
Jayce’s anger flared. “I’m not talking about what you’ve been trying to escape, Y/N. I’m talking about what you’ve become. You’ve been killing people. For money. How many have you—how many have you taken out for a job? How many lives have you ended?”
Her gaze faltered for just a moment before she steadied herself, her voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want you to know. But this is my life, Jayce. This is what I do.”
“No,” Jayce shot back, his voice trembling with emotion. “This is who you’ve chosen to be. You could have stopped, Y/N. You could have walked away, but instead, you’ve kept it all a secret, lying to me the whole time.”
Y/N closed her eyes briefly, her shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag you into this... I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
Jayce’s chest tightened with frustration and disbelief. “How am I supposed to see you, Y/N? As the woman I thought I knew, or as a killer?”
“I’m still the same person, Jayce,” she whispered, her voice strained. “I’m still me.”
Jayce shook his head, his voice shaking now, though he tried to keep it steady. “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re not the person I thought I was in love with. You’ve been killing people, Y/N. And I can’t—” He cut himself off, struggling to keep his composure. “I can’t be a part of this. Not like this.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and final. Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t look away. She had known this moment was coming, but now that it was here, she didn’t know how to make him understand.
“I never wanted to lose you,” she whispered.
Jayce stared at her for a long time, his heart breaking. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to make everything right again. But he couldn’t reconcile the woman he loved with the reality of what she had done. How could he?
“I can’t do this, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I can’t love a killer.”
Y/N didn’t respond. She simply stood there, silent, the weight of his words pressing down on her.
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VIKTOR
Viktor sat at his desk in the quiet of his lab, the rhythmic sound of his fingers tapping against the surface of a mechanical device he'd been tinkering with. His mind, however, was elsewhere—always elsewhere, it seemed. Thoughts of Y/N had occupied more of his time recently, more than he'd care to admit. Their moments together were filled with a sense of warmth and intimacy, but beneath it all, a question lingered in his heart: How much of her life did I truly know?
It wasn’t the first time he had noticed the occasional bruising on her arms or the subtle weariness in her eyes. The absence of certain details made him wonder, but he never pressed her on them. She was strong, capable, and fiercely independent, but it was this same strength that left him both in awe and, admittedly, in concern.
That night, the truth came in a way neither of them expected.
Y/N had walked into his lab, a rare tension in her posture. She looked like she hadn’t had a decent night's sleep in days. She had a light wound on her shoulder, one she’d probably already cleaned herself, but Viktor noticed the way she winced when reaching for something on the shelf.
“Y/N…” Viktor's voice was soft, but his gaze didn’t leave her. He’d learned to read her well enough by now, knowing when something was wrong even if she didn’t voice it.
Y/N met his eyes with a slight frown, but she didn’t hide the fatigue. “It’s nothing, Viktor. Just a scrape.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice was firmer now, his steps carrying him closer to her. His gloved fingers gently traced the edge of her wound, inspecting it carefully, before his eyes lifted to hers again. “How did this happen?”
She hesitated, the weight of his gaze on her unsettling her for a moment. She’d always kept this part of her life separate from him, knowing how he would react. But she couldn’t lie anymore—not when he looked at her like that.
“I’m a mercenary, Viktor. That’s how.”
His body stiffened. The words hit him like a sudden blow, sharp and unexpected. Mercenary. He had always suspected there was more to her than the brilliant mind and the warm smiles she gave him, but to hear it out loud—mercenary—was a different kind of shock.
"You… you?" Viktor's voice trembled, not from anger but from concern and disbelief. The idea of her being involved in such dangerous work was foreign to him. “Why? Why would you—”
“Because I have to, Viktor,” she interrupted, her voice a little too sharp for his liking. She stepped back, brushing her hair out of her face, trying to hide the pain in her eyes. “Because I don’t have a choice. I can’t live off the kindness of others forever, and Piltover’s never exactly been kind to people like me, has it?”
Viktor wanted to argue, wanted to say something to take away the hardness in her tone, to remind her that she was more than just a survivor of the streets, more than just a weapon. But the words stuck in his throat.
He looked at her, at the woman he loved, the woman who had survived more than anyone should have to. His chest tightened with the realization that she was carrying burdens she had never shared with him, and for the first time, Viktor felt helpless. Helpless and afraid of what this meant for her, for them.
He reached for her hand, his fingers trembling as they clasped around her wrist. "I can't… I can’t stand the thought of you putting yourself in danger like this. You’re not just a tool or a weapon to be used. You’re—"
"Don’t you dare!" Her voice cracked, though she immediately regretted it. She pulled her wrist free from his grip, but there was no anger in her now, only the exhaustion that had haunted her for so long. "You don’t get it. I can’t just walk away from this. The world doesn’t let you do that, Viktor."
His heart clenched at the coldness in her voice. He’d always known she was strong, but now he understood the depth of her strength—how it had been forged in the fires of survival. He also knew that his love for her couldn’t change the past she carried, nor could it remove the life she had chosen.
But Viktor, in that moment, made a vow to her, even if she couldn’t see it yet. He would try. He would try to pull her out of that life, no matter how impossible it seemed. He would fight for her, fight to give her a future where she didn’t have to run through the shadows, a future where she could stand in the light.
“I won’t accept this, Y/N,” he said softly, his gaze intense with emotion. “I’ll find a way to get you out of this life. I swear it. I will not let you keep sacrificing yourself for a world that doesn’t care.”
Y/N’s heart raced as she met his gaze, the sincerity in his words cutting through the stubborn wall she’d built around herself. She’d always been alone in this, never allowing anyone to carry the weight of her decisions. But Viktor… Viktor was different. And in that moment, she realized something: Maybe she didn’t have to carry it alone anymore.
Tears blurred her vision, and she found herself leaning into him, her arms wrapping around his chest in a moment of vulnerability. “I don’t know how, Viktor. I don’t know if it’s even possible.”
“I’ll find a way,” he repeated, his voice firm with the resolve of someone who had never been afraid of the impossible.
And as he held her close, Y/N knew, deep down, that this was the beginning of a new chapter—for both of them. The road ahead would be uncertain, but with Viktor by her side, she felt the first stirrings of hope, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.
"I believe you," she whispered.
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JAYVIK
Viktor had always been the one to see the best in Y/N, always wanting to pull her away from the dangerous and destructive path she had walked. As a former Zaunite himself, he understood the world she came from but believed she deserved something better. His thoughts on her being a mercenary were never far from his mind, especially now that they had been sharing their lives together in Piltover.
But then there was Jayce. Jayce, with his idealism and his unwavering belief in what Piltover could become, had always seen things in black and white. To him, Y/N's role as a mercenary, her life steeped in violence, was something to be condemned. He had been pushing for a long time that she could do better, could be better, and when he found out the full extent of her work, he felt betrayed. His disappointment wasn’t just in her profession—it was in her choices, and more so in how those choices might affect their lives.
It was a particularly tense night. Y/N had just come back from a job, her hands stained with blood, and the weariness in her eyes spoke of the toll this life had taken on her. Jayce couldn't hold back any longer.
“Y/N, you don’t have to do this anymore,” Jayce said, his voice tight with frustration. “This mercenary work, it’s dangerous, and you—" He paused, glancing at Viktor. "—you kill people. I can't stand by and watch this. You’re better than this. We need to do something about it.”
Viktor’s brow furrowed, but his tone was measured. “Jayce, I understand your concern, but we need to consider all options. Y/N’s lived this life for so long, and forcing her to leave it behind might not be as simple as we want it to be.”
But Jayce, his passion for justice overriding everything else, snapped, “We could hand her over to the Enforcers! They can help her, clean her hands of all this blood.”
The words hit Y/N like a blow to the chest. She hadn’t been planning on it, but hearing Jayce's proposal—so cold and impersonal—was the breaking point. She couldn’t stay here if they were going to treat her like a criminal, especially not Viktor, the one who had seen her struggles and still cared.
Without saying a word, she stood up and walked into their shared room. Viktor tried to stop her, but Jayce’s anger and the guilt that washed over him paralyzed him in place. Y/N didn’t look back. She gathered a few belongings—some clothes, her weapons, a few trinkets that reminded her of better times—and stuffed them into a small bag. She wrote a letter, her hands trembling as she penned the words:
I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, but I can’t stay in a place where I’m unwanted. I’m sorry for not telling you, Viktor. You were my strength, but I can’t live in your world if I’m a constant reminder of the things I’ve done. Jayce, I know you think this is for the best, but I can’t be part of that world. Goodbye. – Y/N.
With the letter left on the bed, Y/N moved to the window. She’d grown used to escaping through the quiet and discreet ways of the streets, even in Piltover. She slipped through the window and disappeared into the night.
=
Back in the living room, the silence between Viktor and Jayce grew heavy. Jayce's anger had faded, leaving behind only worry and regret. He stood from his chair and began pacing, his steps sharp and restless. “Where did she go?”
Viktor’s voice was quiet but firm, tinged with sorrow. “She’s gone. And we’ve lost her... or perhaps, we never truly had her the way we thought.”
Jayce’s frustration flared up again. “Now she’s gone!” he snapped, his tone sharper now. “We can’t even find her.”
Viktor stood, his posture resolute but his gaze full of regret. He moved closer to Jayce, his hands tightly clasped in front of him. “Maybe... maybe we don’t need to find her. Maybe we need to let her go.”
Jayce’s head snapped up, disbelief in his eyes. “Let her go?” His voice cracked with emotion. “After everything we’ve done? After everything we’ve been through? You’ve spent years helping her, and you’re just going to let her walk away?”
Viktor’s expression softened, and he shook his head. “What choice do we have, Jayce? We can’t force her to stay. She’s not our prisoner. She has to choose her own path, just as we’ve had to choose ours.”
The weight of Viktor’s words settled over them both, like a heavy fog. It was then that they realized the truth: they hadn’t just lost her to the conflict between Piltover and Zaun, nor to the violence of her mercenary work. They had lost her because, in their desire to protect her, they hadn’t understood her. They hadn’t truly seen the burden of the choices she’d carried for so long. In the end, they’d tried to control her when all she needed was the freedom to choose for herself.
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VANDER
Vander wiped down the bar with a steady hand, the faint smell of sweat and smoke lingering in the air. His gaze flicked across the dimly lit room, watching as the last few patrons stumbled out of the door, their laughter and slurred words echoing as they disappeared into the streets of Zaun. The soft creak of the door swinging open caught his attention, and there, standing in the threshold, was Y/N. She had become a permanent fixture of his bar over the years, the kind of person who didn’t need an invitation—she just showed up, like an old friend he’d always known.
He poured a drink into a glass and slid it in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge the gesture, her eyes still focused on the space in front of her, lost in thought. But he noticed her hands, clenched tight around the glass, the way her knuckles were bruised, the way her fingers were still a little stiff from a fight she’d probably won, but at a cost.
"You're looking worse than usual," Vander finally said, his voice rough with concern as he set down the rag he’d been using to wipe the counter. His eyes narrowed on the bruise stretching along her arm, just above her elbow, a deep shade of purple that looked fresh. It was darker than any of the ones he’d seen before, and that alone made him worry more than he wanted to admit.
Y/N didn’t look up from her drink. Her fingers slid across the glass, tapping absently, but her gaze never wavered. She exhaled slowly, a puff of air that barely disturbed the stillness in the room.
"You worry too much, Vander," she replied, her voice light but not dismissive, the kind of response she always gave him when he made these observations. "It's not that bad."
Vander’s frown deepened. He leaned in, his massive frame towering over the bar, the weight of his years in the business bearing down on him. He knew what kind of work she did. He knew the dangers. But this was different. The cut on her jawline—there was a jagged, almost careless edge to it, like someone hadn’t bothered to finish the job. And the bruises were too frequent now. Too visible. He’d seen mercenaries take a beating, but not like this. Not every time. Not in the way it wore on her.
"Where the hell do you get these bruises from, love?" Vander asked, his voice rough but gentle, as he reached out to lightly run his hand over the dark marks on her arm. His touch was hesitant, tender, a stark contrast to the hardened mercenary she had become.
Y/N didn’t immediately answer. She took a slow sip of her drink, savoring the burn of the liquor, as her fingers lingered on the edge of the glass, like she was trying to steady herself. Vander didn’t rush her. He never did. She would talk when she was ready. Or not at all.
After a moment, she set the glass down with a soft clink, her gaze flickering to his but never meeting it fully. Her voice was flat, emotionless, as she spoke.
"Alright," she said, like she was finally letting something spill out, but the words didn’t come easily. "The bruises? They’re from the people I kill."
Vander’s hand froze. For the first time in years, his heart skipped a beat. He looked at her, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of her words. His chest tightened with disbelief, but he forced himself to steady his breath. This was the reality she lived, but hearing it from her—it hit differently. "You're kidding, right?" His voice was hoarse, more vulnerable than he intended.
Y/N met his gaze then, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp, almost cold. There was something in them that made him take a step back, like he was finally realizing just how far gone she was, how far she’d slipped from the girl he used to know.
"Would you rather I lie to you?" she asked, her voice almost too calm, a touch of bitterness under the surface. "I go into places where people don’t just roll over and let me take what I need. Sometimes it gets messy. But the job’s the job. And I’m good at it."
Vander’s heart sank. He’d always known she had her battles, but hearing her speak so matter-of-factly about killing—it gutted him. The weight of her words pressed heavily on him, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He’d seen her fight, seen the deadly precision she had, but this wasn’t just about skill. This was a life that left scars. Deep ones.
"And you don’t mind?" Vander asked, his voice softer now, tinged with genuine concern. "Living like that, taking lives... what’s it all for?"
The question hung in the air, and for a long moment, Y/N didn’t respond. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze distant as her fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of her glass. Then she spoke, quieter now, almost like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
"I don’t mind. Not really," she said, the words heavy with resignation. "It’s what I’m good at. What I’ve always been good at."
Vander exhaled slowly, trying to push down the knot that had formed in his chest. He knew. He understood. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the truth of her world, one he couldn’t change. He’d seen too many people lose themselves to this life, and it pained him to know that Y/N, of all people, had gotten caught in its web.
"You might be good at it," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "but you don’t have to live like this forever."
Y/N chuckled softly, though the sound was bitter, the corners of her mouth twitching but not quite forming a smile. "Maybe not forever. But for now? It’s what keeps me going." Her gaze met his again, this time filled with a quiet sadness, a resignation that she wore like a second skin. "You’re right, though. It catches up to you. But what else is there? What else is there when you’ve spent so long down this path?"
Vander didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t. She wasn’t asking for salvation, wasn’t seeking redemption. She was just surviving. And that reality hit him harder than any punch she’d ever taken. She was caught in a cycle, one he had no idea how to break, even though he wanted to.
"One of these days, it’s gonna catch up to you," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of all the years he’d spent watching people slip through his fingers, knowing they’d never find peace. "You can’t outrun it forever."
Y/N didn’t flinch at his words. Her gaze remained steady, as though she had already accepted it all. She didn’t look afraid, didn’t look like she was trying to escape the inevitable. She simply nodded, her face unreadable. "Maybe. But when that day comes, I’ll be ready."
It was the answer he had feared, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from hoping. Vander let out a long, defeated sigh, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He knew she wouldn’t change—not like this. Not unless something finally made her stop.
"Just be careful, kid," he said softly, the concern in his voice undeniable, the ache of a man who had seen too much loss. He rested his hand on the counter, his fingers tapping lightly as his gaze followed her every move.
Y/N gave him a small, fleeting smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes but was enough to let him know she appreciated his concern. It was there for a moment—just a flicker of something human before it was buried beneath her usual tough exterior. She slid off the stool, her movements efficient and practiced, like she had a thousand places to be.
Vander watched her, knowing this wasn’t a goodbye. She always came back.
As she reached the door, her hand resting on the handle, she glanced back at him over her shoulder, her expression softening just for a moment. "Thanks for the drink, Vander. I’ll be back tomorrow."
And then, like a shadow swallowed by the night, she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts. The bar was eerily quiet now, save for the soft clink of glass as Vander wiped the counter once again, his mind heavy with the conversation that had just passed. He wondered if there would ever be a day when Y/N’s past wouldn’t haunt her, when the blood she had spilled would finally stop following her.
But deep down, he knew—she had already made her peace with it. And all he could do now was wait, hoping that someday, she would find a way out before it was too late.
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SILCO
The air was thick with tension as Y/N and Silco walked down the darkened streets of Zaun, their boots echoing against the damp concrete. They were out on business, making a quiet exchange of information and goods, but the unsettling feeling that always accompanied the underbelly of the city lingered in the air. The smell of rust, oil, and the faint odor of decay was a constant in the heart of Zaun, but to Y/N, it was nothing new.
Silco walked beside her, always keeping a few steps ahead, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. There was something about the way he carried himself, the dangerous aura that surrounded him like a shield. He was a leader, the face of Zaun's rebellion, but in moments like this, away from his empire, there was something softer, more personal in the way he interacted with her. He was kind, in his own way, though he never let his guard down fully.
"You always know how to make an exit," he said, his voice a low murmur as they turned a corner, heading toward a less familiar part of Zaun. "I can't say I'm not impressed."
Y/N smiled, her lips curling up slightly. "I’ve been doing this long enough to know how to keep people from getting too close."
The light from the street lamps cast long shadows, and Y/N couldn't help but notice how they highlighted the contours of Silco’s face. The sharp angles of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows as he scanned the area—it was the face of a man who was constantly at war, both internally and externally. But tonight, there was something different about him. His gaze lingered on her longer than usual, and for a fleeting moment, she felt an unfamiliar warmth in his eyes.
She quickly shook the thought away, dismissing it as just the danger of the city making her mind wander. But even as she tried to focus on the task at hand, something about Silco’s presence affected her in ways she couldn't explain.
Before she could process the thought, a noise broke the silence. Heavy footsteps and muffled voices. The kind of sounds that signaled an ambush. Y/N’s instincts kicked in immediately, her hand reaching for the dagger at her belt. It was too quiet, too calculated. Whoever they were, they had been waiting for them.
“Stay close,” Silco murmured, his posture shifting as he prepared for the inevitable. His voice had changed, quieter now, but still commanding. The tone he used when he wasn't giving orders, but when he was preparing for something personal.
Y/N gave a small nod, her fingers now wrapped tightly around her blade. There was no need for more words. They had worked together long enough to know their roles—her as the silent predator, him as the strategist, always watching from the back with a plan already forming in his mind.
A group of men, cloaked in shadow and armed with crude weapons, emerged from the dark alley ahead, blocking their path. They had been expecting trouble, but the sight of these men still made Y/N's stomach tighten. They were too many, too brazen.
"What’s this, a little surprise party?" she asked coolly, her voice calm, almost playful. It was a tactic, a way to keep the attackers off balance. But it also helped her hide the cold calculation that ran through her veins in moments like this.
The men smirked, their confidence growing at the sight of Silco standing there, calm but still very much a threat. They probably thought they could take both of them, with their numbers on their side. But Silco’s eyes flicked to Y/N, sensing the change in the air. He had always known her reputation—how deadly she could be—but tonight, there was something more. Something darker.
=
Without warning, Y/N moved. She was a blur of motion, swift and efficient. In seconds, she was upon the first man, her dagger slicing through his throat before he even had time to react. Blood splattered across the ground, painting the pavement in an ominous red. But Y/N didn’t flinch. She was a force of nature, her movements fluid, practiced, like a deadly dance she had performed a thousand times. Her strikes were precise, never a wasted motion. She never hesitated.
The remaining men charged, but they were no match for her speed and precision. One by one, they fell. Y/N was everywhere at once, her blade cutting through the chaos like a whisper of death. She had no time for their weakness, no patience for their feeble resistance. A twist of her wrist sent another attacker crumpling to the ground, gasping for breath as the life left his body.
The last man, his face pale with fear, tried to flee. But Y/N was faster. She caught him by the arm, spinning him around before slamming her knee into his stomach. The air left his lungs in a strangled gasp. She didn’t let go, keeping him close as she gave him a final, merciless twist of her wrist. His body went limp, his eyes wide in shock.
Silco stood back, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the entire exchange with a detached sort of interest. His eyes never left her. He had always known she was dangerous, but seeing it firsthand—the ease with which she killed, the beauty in her efficiency—it unsettled him in a way he hadn’t expected. There was something about her that seemed untouched by the violence she wrought, a calmness in her cruelty that intrigued him. It wasn’t just that she was effective—it was how she moved through it all, as if it were second nature. He couldn’t help but wonder, with a flicker of unease, if she had become too accustomed to this life.
Y/N wiped the blood off her blade, her expression unreadable, but there was something colder in her gaze as she surveyed the bodies. The adrenaline was still coursing through her, but she held it in check. She knew how to remain controlled, how to mask the fleeting emotions that bubbled beneath the surface. It was what kept her alive.
Silco took a step closer, his boots clicking lightly on the pavement. He was no longer the cold, calculating leader. There was a quiet admiration in his eyes as he took in the aftermath.
“You’re... quite the sight, Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with something that was neither admiration nor fear, but something deeper—something that went beyond the mercenary he had always known. “I didn’t expect this, not from you.”
Y/N met his gaze, her heart still racing from the fight. She didn't respond right away, her focus still lingering on the men who had dared to cross them. She had learned long ago that silence spoke volumes. But this time, the silence between them was heavier. It was as if she had revealed more of herself than she ever had before.
Silco's voice softened, his tone lowering in a way that felt oddly intimate. “I always knew you were capable, but to see it like this... I didn’t expect you to be so... cold.”
Y/N’s eyes flicked to him, and for the first time, she allowed herself to meet his gaze with something more than the icy mask she usually wore. “Cold, huh? Maybe. Or maybe I just know how to handle myself,” she replied, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of her lips. There was a quiet confidence in her voice, the kind that came from years of surviving the worst of Zaun.
Silco was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching hers as if trying to understand something he had never noticed before. It was as though a door had been opened, revealing a side of her that he hadn’t seen. He had always known she was strong—her reputation alone was enough to prove that—but this... this was something else entirely.
He took a step closer, his voice soft but steady. “You are more than you let people see, Y/N.”
Her heart skipped a beat. His words lingered in the air between them, hanging like a heavy fog. She met his gaze, her breath catching for a moment as she sensed the weight of his words. There was a vulnerability in his eyes now, a crack in the armor that she had never seen before. Something unspoken passed between them, a shared understanding of the darkness that each of them carried.
Before she could respond, he stepped back, his mask slipping back into place with an ease that made her wonder if he had ever let it fall. He gave a small nod, his usual cool demeanor settling back into place.
“We should go,” he said, his voice now colder, as if the moment had never happened. But Y/N knew better. She could feel the shift, the unspoken bond that had formed between them in the heat of battle. It was a quiet understanding, a recognition of the darkness that existed in both of them. And for the first time, it seemed like Silco wasn’t the only one who had seen it.
Y/N nodded, her eyes lingering on him for just a moment longer than she intended. There was a connection between them now, something deeper than friendship, but neither of them was ready to acknowledge it. As they turned to leave, their footsteps in sync, the bond that had been forged in blood and violence grew just a little bit deeper, like a secret neither of them was ready to share.
But as they walked off into the night, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder just how long it would take before the truth between them would finally come to light.
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JINX/POWDER
Y/N’s boots hit the cold concrete of the alleyway as she moved swiftly, her breath visible in the cool night air. A job was a job, and this one was no different. The target was a high-ranking official from Piltover—a man with more than enough dirt on him to make his life miserable. Y/N had learned to ignore the whispers of morality, focusing only on the coin and the fact that she needed to survive.
But the night was anything but quiet. She had known that Jinx would be nearby. The chaotic girl was always lingering around the edges, always popping up when things were about to go sideways. Y/N wasn’t worried. Jinx was a friend, albeit a strange one, and she’d learned to expect the unpredictable from her.
She crouched down behind some crates, eyes trained on the man in question. One clean shot—that was all it would take. But as she readied herself, a faint giggle echoed from somewhere behind her. Without turning around, she sighed.
“Jinx, you’re not supposed to be here,” Y/N muttered, still focusing on her target.
“Oh, come on!” Jinx’s voice rang out, gleeful and full of energy as she swung around a corner, wearing her usual psychotic grin. “What’s the fun in sneaking around if you’re not going to let me play?”
Y/N turned her head just as she pulled the trigger, the silenced shot ringing out before the target crumpled to the ground, dead.
Jinx’s wide eyes sparkled with pure excitement. She bounced over to Y/N, crouching beside her as she inspected the fallen man’s body. “Holy crap! You really did it! You just… killed him! Just like that! Boom! POW!”
Y/N wiped her hands off, watching the target’s life slip away. It wasn’t her first, nor would it be her last. “Yeah,” she said calmly, standing up. “That’s the job. And you're not supposed to see this.”
Jinx didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, her eyes gleamed with pure enthusiasm as she flitted from one side of Y/N to the other. “So, how many people have you killed? Like, a million? A hundred? A thousand? Ooooh! Do you do it with knives? Or guns? Or bombs?” She grinned wickedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Is it like a game for you? Do you get all excited and giggly like me?”
Y/N paused for a moment, unsure how to respond to the wild questions coming from Jinx. But the girl's curiosity was as boundless as her chaos, and she had to admit, it was kind of refreshing. She’d been living this life for so long, and nobody had ever really asked her about it like this.
“Not a million,” Y/N said, shrugging slightly. “More than a hundred, though. Sometimes I use knives—close range. Sometimes guns—long-range. And sometimes I use explosives, but that’s only for specific targets. I try not to make a mess. It’s easier that way.”
Jinx let out a squeal of delight, clapping her hands together. “Oooh, messy or clean, it’s ALL fun!” She paused, thinking, before peering up at Y/N with wide eyes. “Do you do it for fun, or is it like, a job? Do you ever feel bad about it? You know, like, ‘Oops, did I really kill that guy?’ or is it just like… BOOM! That’s what happens when you mess with me?”
Y/N thought about it for a second. “It’s a job. And no, I don’t feel bad. People who need to die usually don’t leave much room for second thoughts.”
Jinx seemed to take that in, then tilted her head. “Yeah, I get that! I’m the same way! You can’t just play around with people who don’t deserve it, right?” She grinned, clearly relishing the thought. “But still, it’s so cool that you just… do it. Like, you make it look easy. You’re like a real-life hero in your own story!”
Y/N chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “I’m no hero, Jinx. Just a mercenary.”
Jinx pouted for a moment, then bounced on her feet again, full of excitement. “Well, you’re my hero! You know that? You’ve got all the cool moves and make it look all smooth! I wanna be just like you when I grow up—except with more explosions! BOOM!”
Y/N’s lips curled into a smile despite herself. “Maybe you should leave the explosions to you. But if you ever need a lesson in making it clean…” She raised an eyebrow. “I could teach you a thing or two.”
Jinx’s eyes widened like saucers, and she nodded eagerly. “YES! Teach me, teach me! I wanna be a mercenary! We’ll be a team, Y/N! You and me, taking down bad guys, making things explode, and making everything go KA-BOOM!”
With that, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a bit lighter than she had in a while. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who lived in this world of violence and chaos after all.
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nachrosas · 17 hours ago
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VALENTINE'S SURPRISE | s.reid x reader
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summary: you only wanted one thing: to spend valentine's night with Spencer. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: death, major character death, drug use (do not use, please), angst in general word count: 565 a/n: i don't have so much to say, just enjoy :)
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The apartment was illuminated by soft light and the smell of freshly prepared dinner permeated the air. The table, set with the utmost care, had candles burning on it and a small gift package lay next to his plate. It was something symbolic, but something you had chosen with great care — a rare edition of “A Study In Scarlet”, which you had spent the last two months digging through bookstores to find.
Your heart was beating fast in your chest. He didn't suspect a thing, and the thought of seeing him surprised, perhaps even blushing, made a sweet smile play on your lips. You looked at your watch. It was only a few minutes away. With every sound of footsteps coming from the corridor, your breath caught for a second. Soon, he would be there. 
The silence was the first thing you realized was wrong.
The house, which should have been filled with your animated conversation or the rustling of book pages, was still. The lights in the hallway were still off, and the smell of dinner still hung in the air, untouched.
“Spencer? Have you arrived?” the question came out hesitantly, but the only answer you received was silence.
Your stomach churned. Footsteps became hurried, eyes scanning the room until they saw him.
He was lying on the living room floor, one arm outstretched, his pale skin reflected in the dim light coming from the street. Next to him, was an empty syringe, an empty ampoule. Old and new marks dotted his arm, a cruel reminder of a fight he had promised you he had won.
“No! No! Spencer, baby!” despair tore from your throat as you ran to him, your hands trembling as you touched his face. Cold. You shook him hard, your fingers squeezing any part of his body you could find; his shoulder, his cheek. “Wake up, baby, please wake your her voice rose with each plea, but he didn't react.
Your chest tightened, and a wave of suffocation and panic spread throughout his body. He couldn't have left her like that.
Your fingers searched for a pulse that was no longer there. The world around him fell silent as if even time had stopped.
“No…” the word came out shakily, a fragile denial against the inevitable.
The present still rested on the kitchen table, wrapped in red paper, waiting for the new owner, who would never open it. Dinner was getting cold, the candles were flickering, indifferent to the despair that was taking over your body and the atmosphere.
Tears fell uncontrollably, soaking his shirt, while you held him, shook him, begged him. But the body in your lap no longer belonged to this world. And inside your chest, something shattered forever.
Your trembling fingers could barely hold the phone. The distant sound of Hotch's voice mixed with the deafening ringing in your ears.
“He's… he's not breathing, Hotch.” the voice came out broken, choked by waves of sobs.
The cell phone slipped out of your hands, hitting the floor with a dry clatter, but nothing else mattered. The house that should have been filled with love that night was now a tomb, lit only by the candles that burned uselessly.
Your gaze turned to Spencer, to the fallen syringe, to the cell phone on the floor.
You had prepared a surprise, but it was he who left you one.
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kroommii · 1 day ago
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If I Say I Love You
characters: Xavier x y/n genre: fluff
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It all began last year’s Winter-Fest. It was yet the biggest celebration Xavier had ever seen and of course he would be helping his town to make it successful. The preparation was grueling, stressful with many revisions and re-checks but it was all worth it. Because of the preparation, the town’s income from the Winter-Fest would double last year’s according to the town’s treasurer and that’s great news to Xavier and the townsfolk.
Winter-Fest is a week-long celebration so the townsfolk would take turns in supervising the celebration, especially the town’s snowball field which is an absolute warzone. Tourists and townsfolk alike take part in the exhilarating snowball fight, where nobody is an ally and everyone’s open to fire. On this particular day, Xavier got the short end of the stick and was in charge of keeping the area injury-free.
Amidst the chaos of flying snowballs (and getting hit with some snowball himself), his attention falls onto a particular person. A young woman around his age, with mesmerizing eyes and flawless beauty. Instantly his attention zeroed in on you. It was like his mind was pulled towards you, ridding anything unimportant (everything but you) and filling his brain with you, you, you.
In that moment, he couldn’t feel anything but his beating heart, his fogging breath and your soft voice. Your cheerful face, the bounce on your step as you evade and run away from your friends who were throwing snowballs at you. Your bright laughter as you yourself throw snowballs at them. It was a scene he had seen countless times, but it just felt different when he saw you doing those gestures. It looks like a scene straight out of a fairy tale. A tale in which an angel from heaven (you) went down to earth and graced him with your ethereal presence.
He was so mesmerised that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings when a ‘thud’ hit his face right on his cheek and it instantly froze him and brought him back from cloud nine.
“Hey bunny boy! Whatcha thinkin about that got you so out of it, huh?” Grandpa Howard’s voice shouted some meter away from him. He was probably the one who threw the snowball towards him.
“Oh Howard, don’t bother the poor boy. He’s already worked enough to be handling your noisy nose!” Grandma Julie, Grandpa Howard’s wife scolds him. “Xavier, darling, don’t pay him any attention. I’m sure you’ve had a hard time with us oldies, why don’t you go have some fun yourself, we’ll watch the crowd for you.”
Grandma Julie is always so kind to the youngsters around her. Xavier smiles, “No need Grandma Julie. I was just a bit distracted. I can go have fun later. Now, why don’t you and Grandpa Howard have fun? I see the others are waiting for you,” Xavier points out to the other seniors who’re looking at them.
“Oh such a sweet boy you are. Good luck on your job and don’t hesitate to tell us when you’re tired of it, don’t want you going down on us now would we, Howard?” Grandma Julie nudges Grandpa Howard.
“Sure, sure. Keep up the good work bunny boy!” He hollered to Xavier.
Watching the couple go back to their friends, Xavier had momentarily forgotten about you, the girl he fell head over heels with. Whipping around his face, his eyes frantically search for your figure. Alas, you have gone away, presumably with your friends, to continue your busy agenda in Winter-Fest. Xavier could only sigh as he already misses you, his eyes dropping and the cheer that was in his face diminished just a tad bit. He guessed he could see you more in the following days of Winter-Fest. It wasn’t a big town and it was just the second day of the celebration, you two would definitely meet again.
----------------------------
Except you didn’t.
Somehow, in the small area of Xavier’s town, he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of you at all. It didn’t make sense to him. In what chance would the world have for you two to not meet again for the rest of the week? Xavier already visited each stand everyday, loitering around the town when he’s not on duty and yet he still didn’t see even a strand of your hair. It was truly a slap from reality for Xavier. He knew you were not from around here (he had some info gathering) and you could leave any day, but when it was the end of the week and he hadn't met you at all, it really felt like a wake up call to him who wished too much (you).
Now, under the spring sky and the spring breeze dancin around his face, he couldn’t help but be gloomy about the circumstances of his love life. His hands unmotivated arranged the season’s flower into a pretty arrangement, but not as pretty as he would usually do. Usually, all the stems would be cut to a precision and the leaves are systematically cut and presented, but now the stems are cut neatly, not as precise and the leaves are more free and wild than what he usually presented. He was on a new low energy no doubt.
“If you’re keeping that up better for you to mess around in the garden rather than the station,” A warm voice and hand took the arrangement from his hands and distanced it from him.
“Ah… Jeremiah, welcome to the shop,” Xavier answered with the most bored voice ever.
“Seriously, what is wrong with you right now?” He nudges Xavier’s forehead with his index finger, causing Xavier to stumble back a bit. “You’ve been off since the Winter-Fest. Any news I’m supposed to hear about?”
Xavier huffs, “No. No news you need to be aware of.”
“Cut the crap. You’re clearly down from something and it’s dragging your performance down too. I need my assistant to be in tip top shape, so speak up, what got your heart all tangled up?” Jeremiah impatiently claps his hand and busy it with another arrangement.
Xavier huffs again and rests his arm on the counter to hold his head. He really doesn't want to share his little heartbreak-crush with his boss. Sure Jeremiah is his friend but he’s his boss right now and it makes him feel very weird about sharing his love life with his boss.
“You know I’ll wait here all day if you don’t spit it out soon. The sooner the better xavi. Also I’m sure you’re just itching to arrange another bouquet, don’t think I don’t see your hand playing with the scissor.” Jeremiah chipped in while focusing on his own arrangement.
“Fineeeee. I’ll tell you about my little thing, but just so you know it’s really weird to be talking about it with your boss.”
“Nothing’s weird. I’m your friend first and foremost. Being your boss is just a bonus so I can tell you to do things I don’t want to,” He smiles.
Xavier could only groan to the confession of his friend-boss. Still, he couldn’t hide the smile blooming on his face. His fondness for his friend-boss Jeremiah. A friend who had been there since they were little boys and a caring boss who teaches him everything he needs to know.
“If you’re really that curious, I just saw this pretty girl last Winter-Fest and couldn’t even introduce myself to her.”
And with that, the snipping that was rhythmic from Jeremiah stops. A couple of seconds later he chipped in, “So… you met a pretty girl and didn’t introduce yourself?” He said confused.
“No, no, no, it’s worse,” Xavier now fully hides his head behind his arms. “I just saw her. Didn’t even interact with her at all!”
While Xavier is lamenting his poor love life, Jeremiah was stifling a laughter behind the big flowers he’s arranging.
“Are you seriously laughing right now? I am heartbroken here. I couldn’t speak to the love of my life! It’s tragic Jeremiah! Not comedic!”
Jeremiah laughs more louder. “It’s just- it’s just so stupid!” He turned his head down, having trouble with containing his laughter. “You just saw her and didn’t say anything?”
“It’s not that I didn’t say anything. I saw her while I was on duty and before I could talk to her I was handling something and the next thing I know I couldn’t find her at all over Winter-Fest!” Xavier is now more animated than before, feeling strangely offended at Jeremiah laughing at his predicament.
“Oh, my man. You are a comedic genius, truly.” Jeremiah patted Xavier’s shoulder after calming himself down which was returned with a glare.
“Sure you weren’t able to talk to her then and couldn’t find her for the rest of the week, but you are really falling hard for this mysterious pretty girl aren’t you.”
“She is the love of my life, you don’t understand. She’s not from here and the only reason she was here was because her friend who was interested in Winter-Fest. She’s from the big city and there’s just no guarantee I would ever see her again in my entire life! It was a one in a million chance and I let it go.” he sulked.
Jeremiah groaned, “You can’t be serious Xav. You met her, what? One time and suddenly you’re soulmates? Honestly I thought you were more logical than romantic.”
“But she is my soulmate! I’m telling you, I have to find her again or I will never be able to live with myself ever again!”
“Then find her.”
The sudden statement snapped Xavier up from his rant. He looked at Jeremiah with big eyes and a confused look. “I will go to the city to find her?”
“No you dumbass,” Jeremiah sighed, hands itching to pinch the boy’s cheek. “She was here for the Winter-Fest right? Then wait until it’s Winter-Fest again and then try to find her.”
“But what if she’s not coming!? Again, she’s not from here and the only reason she was here was because of her friend.”
“Then hope she comes again.” Jeremiah concluded, before looking at Xavier. “Look Xavi, I’m really glad you finally have a crush, but it can’t derail you from your life. How about this, next Winter-Fest you won’t be a staff member? You’ll be a normal person enjoying the Winter-Fest just like her. That way, you can try to find her for a full week without any interruption, that good?”
Xavier stares at Jeremiah with hopeful eyes, “You promise that? But what about the labour? I know you can’t handle them all, even with the elders' help.”
Then, Jeremiah flashed a smirk, “That’s what the kids are for. I’ve been waiting for a chance to work them out. They’re too energetic for their own good. I mean, they were destroying all of my flowers all year round! Don’t think they can get away scot free from me.”
With that, Xavier relaxed his stance, his mind no longer running a thousand miles per hour. He can finally think clearly with the crashness of Jeremiah and he finally doesn’t feel like he’s running out of time to find you. “Thank you Jeremiah, you’re a real good friend.”
“That I am,” Jeremiah nodded. “But now, we have a shop to run, orders to process, and flowers to trim, so get your game in loverboy before I take back my words.”
----------------------------
Days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months. Within a blink of an eye, it’s once again Winter-Fest and the town is flocked with visitors from the pasts and new ones.
All the time away from you had given Xavier all kinds of ideas in his mind on how to approach you when you meet again. From flower arranging to making a full on song, Xavier had done it all. However, it was never the perfect gift from his perspective. You were his one in a million and he wouldn’t be content with giving you such normal gifts when you finally come back to him. The song he made was the best he could think of giving you and although he put a lot of time and all his efforts into it, he put it as plan b if he doesn’t come up with a better idea.
With Winter-Fest around the corner, he had no more time to think and he already ran out of ideas. Pacing around the shop, he brainstorms for another ten minute before Jeremiah shooing him out of the store. In his words, ‘Better be out there to see her than miss her in here. I do not need a year of your heartbreak’.
Amidst the white and blue hues of the snow, Jeremiah’s flower shop stands out with vibrant colourful flowers lining the front. Purple, yellow and pink are dominant as they are the freshest flowers in season. He gently cradles the flower heads, feeling their soft cold petals on his fingertips, caressing them as his mind was taken off from the anxiety of an imperfect first meeting.
Thud, a snowball came for Xavier’s head before crumbling onto his coat. He turned his head onto the source and found kids, teenagers, and adults playing in the snow field, specifically the ‘war area’. Every year the town would dedicate an area for snowball fights where all kinds of covers — battalions and base — are available. Xavier skimmed over the faces present in the field, all faces of joy. Some smiling, some grinning, some laughing maniacally as they hit another person right on their face, and some grimacing at the impact of the cleverly thrown snowball. Snowball fight might just be the most distinct part
“Hey you idiots! Don’t throw the snowballs here dammit! Stay in the war area for that!” Jeremiah’s booming voice called out to the kids in the war area who had thrown the snowball towards Xavier. His shouts were met with giggling from kids and some apologies from their guardians.
Reaching for the yellow flower that he was holding, he poked Jeremiah, “Hey, can I get some of these flowers.”
“Huh? Well you can buy it, sure.”
“How much do i need to be able to win a girl?”
“That,, why the hell are you asking me that???”
----------------------------
It took Xavier a couple of tries but thankfully he managed to do it before all his flowers were used. Xavier holds in his hands three snowballs that are just bigger than your normal ones. He sits on a bench away from the hectic festival life with discarded flower stems scattered around him on the bench. Also around him are crumbling snowballs and half made snowballs with a ruined yellow flower in them. He stares sadly at the ruined flower-snowball before gathering them to throw to the side of the road.
Now, the only thing he needs to do is to find you. His perfect gifts for the perfect first encounter is already in his hands, cradled carefully from the roughness of the world. He began his walk slowly to a more crowded area while also carefully maintaining his distance from other people in favour of protecting the snowballs filled with flowers he painstakingly made.
A couple of roads and areas later, he had not found you yet. He sadly had apparently lost one of the special snowballs when someone bumped into him and made him drop one of them. He started to think that maybe his thinking was just a delusion. You were an uptown girl, you went here once, why would you come here again. His spirits are truly in the down low now. He drags his feet as he circles around the war area, trying his best keeping his snowballs safe.
Just as he is ready to let you go and discard the special snowballs, he heard it. Your laughter, your voice, your magical spirit that just lights him up in an instant. He can see you now, more clearly than before thanks to your bright voice. There you are, standing in the war area, laughing while dodging snowballs and creating your own snowballs from the abundant snow around the area. You who are so happy throwing snowballs at each other with what he assumes are your friends, unaware of the boy who had yearned for her for the last year.
In an instant, without any thinking, he steps into the war area. His body doing its own thinking, moving his legs faster than he would normally, running through the area in hopes to get to you. His senses were like on fire, suddenly aware of everything around him, the coldness of the winter wind hitting his face, the soft snow under his boots slowly sinking under his weights, the whizzing air that follows after a snowball is thrown. His two hands tried their best at keeping the special snowballs intact.
Suddenly, he moves like a track and field athlete, cleverly dodging snowballs, leaping over fallen kids and makeshift barriers, ducking over an outstretched arm that is reaching or blocking a snowball from hitting their body. In the end, he is breathless, realising he doesn’t usually do much cardio while working in the flower shop. He is painfully aware of how pathetic he looks, hair and clothes messy because of his recklessness in crossing over the war zone, his hands that are now just holding one of his special snowball, the other one had been lost somewhere when he was rushing over, his erratic breaths trying to get oxygen in his lungs.
You now notice him, Xavier standing at arms-length from you. Your eyes wash over him like a blessing, lifting him spirits the more you see him. He knows this is far from the perfect first encounter he imagined but at this point he will take anything the world (you) will give him. Slowly, his hands stretch to show you the snowball. He slowly and carefully nudged the snow little by little until the petals of the yellow petal peek over the snow it was buried over. The yellow is like a splash of colour before the monochromatic cold tone around him. He smiles and your hand goes to receive the flower.
He opens his mouth to introduce himself…
[end.]
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mydreamyspace · 2 days ago
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Logan X Fem! Reader - I'm Gonna Take Care Of You
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Characters : Logan, Reader
Summary : There's a fight and you get hurt, Logan comforts you.
Tags/Warnings : a little bit of violence ? Hurt/comfort
Word count : 811
Masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
"This time i get to choose, please"
"Alright doll, what do you want to watch tonight ?"
You browse through the dvd's on the shelf next to the tv. Logan, sipping on his beer on the sofa.
"How about this one ?" You show him the movie you picked
"Anything you want, just get the dvd ready so you can come back in my arms"
You smile and do as he says. You sit next to him and he wraps his arms around you. Your head on his chest, you can feel his fingers playing with your hair.
Logan lowers the volume of the tv. At this time of the night, everybody in the school is asleep. Except for a few teachers.
As the movie plays, you're both eating snacks, Logan still taking sips of his beer.
His finger gently tracing up and down your arm, giving you goosebumps. It's a quiet and relaxing night, just how you love it.
A sound suddenly makes you two jump out of the sofa. Logan, focusing in the sound, realise that it's actually footsteps. A lot of footsteps. Someone broke into the school.
He puts his arm out in front of you, ordering you to stay back, but you follow him quietly. You tiptoe around the room, looking for the intruders but you don't see anybody.
The footsteps are getting closer, so close you can hear them.
"Logan what's going on ?" Storm and Scott just entered the room
"Someone's here" he uses his senses to try and find their exact location.
"This room, they're coming from this room" he whispered.
Logan, Storm and Scott are all in front of you. You try to stay as close to them as possible.
"Hands on your head" Someone from behind you shouted.
"i won't say it again" he points his gun at you, four other armed men come in the room and point guns at Logan, Storm and Scott.
"You don't want to do this" Storm tried to get closer to you, so does Logan.
You can feel Logan's hand on your arm, trying to pull you closer to him. You feel as the whole thing is happening in slow motion. Like you can't think at all. Your breath is heavy.
As the fight finally breaks, the room is filled with chaos. Blood spilled on the walls as Logan uses his claws against them. A gunshot is heard, making everyone in the room stop fighting.
One of the men moved behind you and shot you.
"NO" Logan shouted, he takes you in his arms before you fall on the floor. Storm and Scott still fighting the other men. Your eyes are closed but you're still conscious, still hearing what's happening.
Storm grabs your arm, asking Logan to let you go as she promises to take you to the infirmary. She takes you into her arms and you can hear Logan's rage. You know how he is when he is like this, and you know he will fight like an animal. Killing every last one of them in the most violent way possible.
As the sounds of the fight are getting further and your body weaker you can feel yourself go. Your last thought being Logan's arms around you on the sofa.
*************
The sounds of the machine, a bright light on the ceiling. It's all you hear and see as you slowly wake up, your body still weak. you try to get up but you feel a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
"Hey, you're awake" Jean is checking your heartrate and your wound, making sure you're okay.
"Don't get up yet, your body is still recovering. Good news is the bullet just grazed you so there's not too much damage you're gonna be okay"
"Where's.."
"Logan ?, just outside, Storm is talking to him"
You hear the door of the infirmary open. Logan taking your hand.
"She's gonna be okay, i just need you to make sure she rests"
"Sure, thank you" Logan smiles at you, relieved that you're okay. You still see some blood on his arm.
He takes you in his arm goes up in your bedroom. He gently puts you in the bed, putting the blanket over you. He sits on a chair next to you and takes your hand in his.
The warmth of his smile makes you feel so comforted and loved.
He places a gentle kiss on your forhead
"I'm gonna take care of you, i promise, i'm so sorry"
"It's not your fault Logan"
"I'm gonna make sure you're okay and stick with you forever, i'm gonna be with you so much you're gonna get sick of me"
You laugh even though you wound is hurting
"get sick of you ? not a chance"
He plays with your hair as you slowly fall asleep in the bed, feeling his reassuring presence next to you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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oopsiedaisydeer · 2 days ago
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𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰, 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰?
ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ… 20ᴛʜᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏɢɪʀʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜᴄᴛꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴜʀᴠᴇʏ… ʙᴜᴛ ᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴜᴘ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
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It was a Sunday afternoon, and she stood in the phonebooth out the front of her house, staring at the number written in messy handwriting. She’d managed to get Matt’s home phone number after a bit of sneaky detective work, hoping to gather more information for Iris. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous…this wasn’t her first time doing something a little… much. But there was something about this whole situation that felt different. What if she was making things weird? What if she was crossing a line? 
For Iris, she reminded herself.
Taking a deep breath, she dialed the number, holding the receiver to her ear as it rang. The phone line buzzed a few times before the voice on the other end picked up.
“Hello?”
Her stomach fluttered as she forced herself to stay calm.
“Hello, may I speak with Matthew Sturniolo?” she asked, trying her best to sound professional, like a real survey caller. 
The voice on the other end was quiet for a moment, then responded, “Who?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “May I speak with Matthew Sturniolo? I’m calling from…The Survey Squad Institute, to conduct… a quick survey. It won’t take long.”
Another pause. Then, confusion. “Uh, I think you have the wrong number.”
“No, no,” she insisted smoothly. “I’m just calling for a quick survey, just a couple of questions.”
There was hesitation in the voice. “Okay… What’s this about?”
She straightened up, adjusting the phone like she’d done this a million times before. “Thank you for your time! We’re conducting a survey about people's favorite songs. And we’d like to know: if you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
The voice responded, a little uncertain at first but warming up. “Uh... probably Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers.”
Y/n wrote it down, nodding to herself. So that was Matt’s usual go-to track. She was on the right path. 
“So, moving on,” she said, pushing her nerves down. “If you could go anywhere right now, where would it be?”
The voice on the other end became a little more relaxed. “A forest, somewhere quiet. Just to get away from everything.”
She scribbled that down too. This was going well. Maybe she’d get this whole thing done without any hiccups. She felt a rush of pride. 
“Okay, last question!” she said a little too brightly, forcing herself to stay in character. “If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, which one would it be?”
There was a brief pause, followed by a soft chuckle. “The Big Lebowski. It’s funny, in a way that doesn’t really try too hard, you know? The way it’s all, like, a series of strange events, but it still feels kinda real in a weird way. It’s kinda... timeless, I guess? I dunno. It’s one of those movies you either get, or you don’t. But if you do, it sticks with you.”
Y/n froze, the pen hovering over her notepad as her heart skipped. Wait a second… Her brain short-circuited for a moment. No way. This isn’t Matt. This is… Chris?
She pulled the receiver away from her ear, staring at it in disbelief before holding it back up, almost as if she could ask the phone itself what just happened. Why am I doing this?
“Wait a second,” she said again, voice a little too loud in the quiet booth, her face turning red. “Is this… Chris?”
She could hear Chris’s smile through the phone, his chuckle a soft echo. Her stomach flipped, and she quickly dropped her gaze to her shoes, wishing she could disappear into the pavement beneath her. Of course. Of course it’s him.
“Well, well, well,” Chris said, clearly amused. “Hello, Echo.”
“Echo?” she repeated, confused. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“Yeah, Echo,” Chris said with a grin in his voice. “You sounded like a robot repeating yourself Y/n, all stiff and professional, like you're reading off a script. Saying the same things over and over, like ‘May I speak with Matthew Sturniolo?’” He laughed again, clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve got this robotic vibe going. I’m calling you Echo from now on.”
Chris let out a low whistle. “Echo, huh? Yeah, you really nailed the whole survey lady thing. You even sounded like you were reading off a script. 'May I speak with Matthew Sturniolo?' You should’ve gone all in and asked me about my opinions on toothpaste or something. I would've believed you.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “And hey, now that I know your ‘survey’ skills, I’m just gonna assume you’re gonna call back every few days. What’s next—favorite type of pencil? Or how do you take your coffee?”
“No-” she cut herself off, but Chris was already laughing.
“Yeah, Echo, you’re a pro. I’m gonna expect more surveys in my future. You can’t just give me a performance like that and not continue to live up to it.”
She could feel her face heat up with embarrassment. “I- I wasn’t trying to sound like a robot! I was just-”
Chris cut her off with another laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Echo. I gotta admit, you’re pretty committed to this whole ‘survey lady’ thing. But I’m not Matt, so good luck getting that pager number from me.”
“I’m not-” she groaned. “I was just trying to get Matt’s pager number for- !” She cuts herself off.
“For?” Chris said, the teasing in his voice softening just slightly. “Who?”
She grumbled, avoiding the question, embarrassed but not totally upset.
“Anyway, I think ‘Echo’ is perfect,” Chris teased, clearly enjoying the nickname. “You’re gonna have to try a little harder if you want Matt’s number. I’m not giving it up that easily.”
She sighed. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe- ”
Chris interrupted, his voice taking on a more playful tone. “Yeah, well, Echo, you gotta live with it now.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Just don’t tell Matt, please.”
“No promises. But hey, just call him as yourself next time,” Chris said mockingly. “No need to pretend to be a survey lady.”
She shook her head, laughing despite herself. “You’re being annoying, you know that?”
“I know.” Chris replied with a grin she could practically hear. 
She just shook her head, hanging up the phone and slamming it down with a little more force than necessary. “Echo,” she muttered, the ridiculousness of the whole thing sinking in. Her chest tightens as she leans against the machine.
The whole thing had been pointless and weird, but… something about it lingered. Maybe she was getting somewhere. Maybe.
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thank u rose for the dividers ! @bernardsbendystraws
a/n: for the 4% of u that wanted this! reader finally gets a nickname
taglist: @snoopychris @chrissweetheart @sturnsrecord @sturns-mermaid @slxt4chriss @blushsturns comment to be added/removed from this au's taglist!
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exhaustedpirate · 6 hours ago
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warm, clingy bodies
day 10 of @bucktommyfluffebruary (better late than never, right?) thought about making this smutty, ended up going the real fluffy route, as everything with bucktommy, i don't plan anythin, i just let them take over my life, my brain, my heart!
rated T | 1064 words also on AO3
Evan was clingy.
There was something about physical affection that seemed to appeal to the younger man. Tommy often found himself holding Evan’s hand at any given time, or with arms wrapped around his waist, or with the younger firefighter perched on his lap. He had fallen asleep many times with Evan’s fingers running through his hair.
Well, Evan was very clingy.
There wasn’t a moment where his boyfriend wouldn’t have his hands on him. It was probably unconscious, just a need to touch, to connect, to make sure Tommy was still there. He wasn’t sure. 
Tommy’s last relationship wasn’t like this. It was colder, distant. Evan was the sun, warm, so warm. He was becoming obsessed with his boyfriend’s need to touch, to hold.
The boxes of the pizza they had for dinner are scattered along the coffee table, their empty beers carefully placed next to them. A movie about a man and a woman falling in love under strange circumstances is on TV. 
He doesn’t really know the title anymore, hasn’t retained any information regarding plot, character names or even if it’s set in America. He’s distracted by other things.
Evan’s leg is draped over Tommy’s and his arms are wrapped around his torso. His head is a weight on his shoulder and his breathing warms up his t-shirt covered chest. Tommy’s hand runs slowly up and down Evan’s back while the other strokes his forearm. There’s a blanket over their legs and it’s all so warm, so intimate.
He didn’t think he would ever get this.
He never wants to let it go.
Evan’s breathing is starting to slow and Tommy smiles. The music is swelling on the TV and he’s sure the main couple is going to kiss - formulaic but not a criticism.
“Evan?”
He feels the answering hum vibrating along his side and tightens his hold on the younger man.
“Do you want to go to sleep?”
There is a minute shake of his head and Evan’s hand clings to his t-shirt, in the middle of his chest, while he hooks his fingers in his beltloop with the other. “I’m good,” He answers and hums appreciatively at the kiss Tommy lays on the top of his head. “I wanna see those crazy kids have their happily ever after.”
Tommy laughs and feels Evan snuggle closer to him, nose rubbing against his collarbone. “You’re gonna be snoring by the time those end credits roll, babe.”
“I don’t snore,” Evan complains half-heartedly. He does, Tommy has watched him sleep enough times to know that he loves Evan’s little snores. It’s not creepy, it’s romantic. He hopes. “And I’m not gonna fall asleep.”
“You wanna bet?”
It’s not fair, essentially a scam. He already knows Evan is falling asleep, knows all the signs of a sleepy Evan - his body warmth changes, his eyes flutter, his breathing settles and he clings. 
All’s fair and all of that, he guesses.
“If I don’t fall asleep, you have to carry me to bed.” Evan clears his throat to make his voice clearer, no mumbling or drawn-out syllables. Tommy smirks at the attempt, sign number 5.
“And if you do?”
“You can be the little spoon tonight.”
Tommy laughs, how can he not? It’s not as if he won’t carry Evan to bed regardless. It’s not as if Evan doesn’t manhandle him during the night so he can wrap himself around Tommy’s back.
He can almost see the smirk in his boyfriend’s lips and he runs his hand up and down Evan’s thigh, relishing in the trembling of his muscles. “You have yourself a deal.”
Evan lifts his head to look up at Tommy and he gets his confirmation on the smirk. “Seal it with a kiss?”
As if he ever needs to ask. Tommy runs his hand up from his back to cup his jaw, Evan cushioning his head on his bicep, and tilts his boyfriend’s head up for a kiss. He swallows Evan’s sigh with his lips and lets his responding moan reverberate into the kiss. The kiss is slow, warm, all-consuming, unrushed, intoxicating, perfect.
Evan’s hand runs slowly up and down his chest, making its way under the shirt. Tommy shivers at the soft touch of his hand reaching up to his pecs, his hand tightening on Evan’s thigh. He presses small chaste kisses on Evan’s soft kisses as he disengages, relishing the contented noises his boyfriend makes, in the way he slowly blinks his eyes open.
There are declarations of love, of forever, coming from the TV. All Tommy sees is the slow smile spreading across his boyfriend’s lips, the bright hue of his eyes, the faint blush on his cheeks, the way his hands cling to him. 
Tommy hopes Evan never lets go.
“Should I take you to bed?” Tommy’s voice is low, hoarse.
“Mhmm,” Evan nods, his eyes glinting with a promise before he straddles him, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s neck. “I won.”
Tommy blinks away the haze of arousal the kiss started and that the weight of his boyfriend on his lap heightened. Chancing a glance at the TV, he sees the credits rolling, names of actors and characters - ugh, who wants a love interest called Walsh? - that neither of them paid attention to.
“Guess I have to carry you then,” Tommy huffs in faux reluctance, his hands running up Evan’s thighs to grab hold of his ass. He bites his lips at the way his boyfriend shuffles in his lap at the touch. “Does that mean that I get to be the big spoon tonight?”
Evan hums, pressing a slow kiss to Tommy’s lips, fingers running up the back of Tommy’s neck. He is putty in his boyfriend’s hands. “Take me to bed and we’ll see.”
After a smacking kiss, Tommy grunts as he gets up from the couch, Evan wrapping tightly around his body with a delighted laugh. With a sigh, his boyfriend hides his face in the space between Tommy’s neck and shoulder completing his clinging hold.
Evan is very clingy, the clingiest boyfriend he ever had. The clingiest boyfriend he ever wants to have. They take up the least amount of space in Tommy’s massive bed, bodies tangled so close together, not even a dust particle could get between them. 
Evan is very clingy. Tommy hopes that means he’ll want to keep him forever.
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iamthelemonlord · 1 day ago
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Duke of death and his maid au:
CW: // animal death
Lwj gets cursed where anything he touches dies. He discovered his curse when he went out one the morning to his rabbit hutch.
No one had ever heard lwj scream, let alone cry before. When lqr comes running out to see what had happened, lwj was crying over the dead bodies of his rabbits. Seeing him distraught, they had kept coming towards him to comfort him, only to instantly die when they came into contact with lwj.
Lqr walked towards him to ask what had happened and comfort him. Lwj screamed as he saw his uncle come close. "Don't touch me!" His back hit a tree, causing it to instantly wilt.
"Wangji!?" Lqr exclaimed, confusion and horror clouding his features.
Lwj watched as the tree withers and dies. He falls to the ground, confused as to why this was happening to him. His uncle watches helplessly as the grass in contact with lwj shrivels up, becoming lifeless.
Not knowing what else to do, lqr urges lwj up without going near him and rushes him inside the manor. He sits him down and orders the servants to bring him tea and something to eat but warn not to touch him.
As the servants run about, lqr discovered that before this curse had taken hold, lwj had dreamt that someone had visited him and placed the curse on him, their parting words to him were that now no one will be able to truly love him. He'd thought it was just a dream until this morning. This was all anyone could go on. With no way of knowing the truth and no trace of the witch, there was no known way of breaking the spell. They know of none who are familiar with magic.
As he is only the second heir, lwj is taken to a secluded manor and locked away where there is nothing but wilderness. Someone comes by once in a while to clean, but they never stay, fearful of coming in contact with the lord of the manor. All he can do now is search for answers as he rots away alone. The Lan family would continue to provide for him and help with his research but other then that, lwj was on his own.
Try to imagine if you would, a life where you can never embrace the one you love, never once feel their skin against yours. He takes the life's breath out of anything he touches. That was the curse the witch so cruelly inflicted upon him. No animal, human, or plants were except, of course. Regarding his nephew doomed to live his life without knowing the warmth of another, his uncle only complained:
Lqr: That child is like death incarnate!
(Authors note: The last paragraph above and the character line are not my own. It is an excerpt from the English dub of the show. These are not my original words. This narration goes hard, I swear!)
Then, one day, someone appeared at his door, claiming to be his new butler who would be living there from now on. It was wwx who lwj had grown up with, wwx's mother being close friends with Iqr. He was no butler. He didn't have a title, but his family had some land and prestige. Lwj turned him away, calling him insane for wanting to work there. Wwx tells him not to worry. He knows the circumstances and is prepared.
Wwx: Come on, Lan Zhan! We're friends! Let me work here 😁
Lwj: Get lost!
Wwx: Don't be like that! I received permission from your uncle! I'm to stay here and serve you while researching the curse.
Lwj: I do not need help! I am fine on my own! Leave now!
Wwx: Nope! I'm staying!
Lwj slammed the door in wwx's face before he could take a step into the manor. He left him out there thinking he'd get bored and leave soon. Wwx did not leave and stayed sitting on the front steps playing with a stick in the dirt. As night fell and lwj saw that wwx was still there, he relented. He opened the front door and stared down at him.
Lwj: One night, and you're out by morning.
Wwx: Once I take a step in there, you'll never get rid of me.
Lwj: Wei Ying! 😡
Wwx: Laaaan Zhaaaaan! 🙄
Lwj groans in frustration but lets wwx in. Wwx practically skips inside avoiding contact with lwj. He soon makes himself at home and a week later he's still there. Working. Lwj had contacted his uncle only to find that yes wwx was hired by him to help care for lwj and assist in his research. Apparently wwx was an expert in witch magic, specifically curses.
After a heated back and forth with his uncle, wwx was permitted to stay.
He did everything he said he would: oversees the manor and helps with research albeit late in the day since he isn't an early riser. The only issue lwj sees with the arrangement is that the man gets TOO CLOSE to him!
Lwj tends to wear gloves and long sleeves but the curse works through clothes. The layer has to be thick enough that it is not HIM someone is touching, yet wwx seems to not care! One too many times now their noses had almost touched! The man was courting death.
One night while they were sitting together wwx brought up a new topic.
Wwx: we should hire other people. This place is too big
Lwj: No
Wwx: Laaaan Zhaaaaaan!
Lwj: it is too dangerous. Either way, no one besides you would want to stay here.
Wwx stands from his seat and leans across the table, their faces almost touching causing lwj to almost tumble over his seat.
Lwj: WEI YING!
wwx ignores him: What if they can't be affected by your curse?
Lwj: That's impossible. They would have to be invulnerable or dead.
Wwx: if I find someone, will you hire them?
Not thinking he would, lwj agrees with an eye roll.
The next day wwx drags a man to the manor by the name Wen Ning who had been looking for a job. He was from a branch of a prestigious noble family but has been cast out due to being cursed to continue walking the earth after his death. He had died a year ago and now no one but his sister wanted anything to do with him.
Wwx: Your curse stipulates that they have to be living.
Wwx shoves wn towards lwj. In reflex he catch him. Horrified he looks at the man in his arms who blinks back at him.
Lwj: Wei Ying!
Lwj was furious. He righted wn before facing off with wwx
Lwj: That was completely out of line! You could have killed him... again!
Wwx: and I was sure you wouldn't. There's no breath to take. Now what room should we give him?
Wn became the gardener.
After a few weeks a woman showed up to their door announcing herself as WQ, WN sister. She request to stay so she can be with her brother in return she can be their physician and help with the research on curses. At this point lwj has no say anymore and wq is invited to stay The house used to be so quiet and now noise kept filling the space. He may not be able to touch his friends but he could once again feel their warmth. Lwj had become so accustomed to being alone that he forgot he missed being around others. Now he doesnt feel the least bit lonely.
Fin for now.
Kind of wanna do a longer thing with it either way but it's the general idea.
Notes on things to happen:
-At some point wwx gets bunnies that wn cares for in the garden and lwj can enjoy from afar.
-They solve the curse (duh)
- some magic fuckery. Some friends they make alongb the way are witches
- lots of edging stuff (nsfw)
This is very much from an edging type of anime. The original with the maid (Alice) all she likes to do is tease the Duke (very wx coded)
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storiesbyjes2g · 1 day ago
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3.215 Family fun day
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After the toast, we got up and sang Froodage Lang Syne. Desi didn't know the words, but she sure sang her little heart out. She's so adorable. We hugged, said goodbye to the O'Keefes, and headed back home to watch the pre-countdown show. I was exhausted and really wanted to take a nap, but knew if I went to sleep, I'd be done for. So, I stood and watched, thinking that would reduce my chances of falling asleep. Sophia and Desiree enjoyed the show, laughing at all the silly characters dancing in costume. At least, in my drowsy state, it seemed silly to me. Finally, it was time for the countdown, and I was so glad. I could almost feel the cool sheets brushing against my skin, ha.
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In the morning, I awoke rather early, refreshed and thankful for another year and excited about this next chapter of our lives. Tomorrow, Desiree begins school, and Sophia and I will have to figure out what to do with ourselves while she's gone. But that is a thought for another day because I had plans for Desi and was eager to get started. I went to her room and checked in on her like I used to do when she was a baby, and just like then, she was already wide awake and ready to get at it.
"Good morning, sweetie," I said.
"Daddy, your breath stinks!"
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"Oh yeah??"
I gave her more kisses as she tried to pull away from me. Eventually I got her giggling.
"What do you want for breakfast?"
"Pancakes!"
"Auntie Less used to love pancakes too! Are you gonna help me this time?"
She giggled some more and nodded, so we went downstairs. I opened the fridge to gather the ingredients, only to find absolutely nothing. The thing was empty. Like, literally empty. No water, no milk, not even a half eaten plate of leftovers. I couldn't remember the last time I made a grocery order, and that scene definitely confirmed it.
"I guess we're gonna have to go get some pancakes then," I said.
Honestly, that was a better idea, anyway. Going out to eat is always fun, and I want Desi to have as much fun as possible today. I called Less to see if she and the nibblings wanted to come with us, and we met at the steakhouse in Oasis Springs.
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The host had a much better attitude this time and sat us in the party room on the balcony. Sophia and Less gabbed, and it warmed my heart so much to think about how their relationship started. Alessia was so mean to her for no reason other than being selfish. Maybe their shared experience softened her up, but whatever it is, I'm just glad she let Sophia in. Desi and Arvin left to go play with her soccer ball; hopefully they went outside. I don't need that host changing her mind about us. With half the table preoccupied, I asked Lex and Breanna what they looked forward at school. Lex wants to make friends, and Bre wants to play pranks.
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I didn't really like that answer, but you know what? Not my kid, not my problem. I'm trying to be mindful of how I react because of my missteps yesterday. I want to be a good parent and seize all the teaching moments so my kid turns out to be the envy of all, heh. But, I also need to learn to choose my battles, and this one is definitely not it. Desi and Arvin came back just before the food came out, so I asked her the same question. Like Lex, she's also looking forward to making friends and playing with Savannah.
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After breakfast, we took the kids to the park in Yasmine's neighborhood. I called her and said we were out there, and if she were comfortable, her girls could come play if they want. She appreciated the invite but declined, just like I thought she would. I thought the kids would enjoy playing in the jungle gym and monkey bars, but they just stood around and talked, so we joined them. When it comes to my niece and nephews, Sophia usually leaves them to me. She rarely talks to them, but this time she opted to chat up Breanna and Arvin. At some point, she noticed Lex had been left out of all the conversations. His siblings seem to favor each other, and Less and Desi have the cutest relationship, so she went to go chat with Lex. I thought that was really sweet of her.
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Alessia's phone buzzed, and she grinned as she replied to a text. What's this?! Has she finally got back into the dating pool? I wanted to ask about this mystery person sooooo bad, but it's not something we should discuss in front of the kids, so I left it alone.
The afternoon got away from us, so I told Less we were going to head home. Yoga wasn't the only thing I wanted to do with Desi. Someone had given her a bike for her birthday, and it was high time she learned to ride that thing.
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She seemed excited at first, but once she sat on it and put the helmet on, everything changed.
"I don't wanna do it," she whined.
"Why not?" I asked. "It's gonna be so much fun when you get the hang of it."
"I'm scared!"
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"It's okay, Desi. You don't have to pedal yet. Just kinda walk it with your feet so you can learn to keep your balance."
"But what if I fall?"
"You won't. Your feet will never leave the ground."
"Okay."
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She walked the bike in circles in front of us, very slow and careful. She didn't fall or trip or whatever she thought would happen, and when she had enough, she hopped off with a smile on her face. The situation reminded me so much of when she was learning to sit up. She was so concerned at first, but we kept at it. She stayed strong and pressed through. Eventually she did it, and she was so proud of herself. This will be just like that.
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fifthnailinstevesbat · 9 months ago
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watching the last episode of season 5 in 2026 and steve gets fatally injured and then the first notes of when it’s cold id like to die start playing and we all know in that moment it’s over
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screampied · 6 months ago
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❛ BED CHEM! ❜ t. fushiguro + k. nanami
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☆ sum. being sandwiched between two of your co-stars during a séx scene sounds like a fever dream. the real fever dream is finding out who you have better bed chemistry with. the sweet blond who always talks you through it or the smug dark haired one who’s constantly stealing your panties.
wc. 5.9k
warnings. fem! reader, actor au, thréesomes, unprotected, semi-public, they eat you out at the same time, cervix mentions, premature ejac, size difference, dirty talk, pússy drunk men, praise, spít roasting, óral (f! & m! receiving), hair pulling, size kinks, bóob fondling, overstim.
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“annnnd action.”
you mentally bite your lip, feeling every nerve through your body convulse from your co-stars touches. toji fushiguro and nanami kento—the most current hottest topic, you had this last scene to shoot for a movie you were the lead in. the scene in question was quite raunchy to say the least, both of them take turns to plant soft chaste kisses down both sides of your neck. both signature scents of their colognes were loud, a musk that forevermore wafts against your nose. your eyes flicker toward the camera every so often, trying to stay in character. this was probably the fifth take—you had a bit of a bad habit of missing your lines so there’d be a few retakes. emphasis on few.
“ken, look at her,” toji murmurs, and a gasp merely slips from you once his parted tongue creeps past his lips and onto your neck. his hand slowly trails toward your thigh and he squeezes it. “such a pretty thing. want more, do ya princess?”
you nod as a response but that’s when nanami’s hand gently cups underneath your chin. gingerly, a thumb ghosts by your bottom lip and he speaks sweetly. “ah, now sweetheart. we talked about that, we need a pretty answer from you, not a nod.”
“i- i want more,” you stammer, and as toji’s scarred hands continue to roam down your body, you suck in a keen sharp breath. the air felt substantially thick, mainly due to how all three of you were acting in a big spacey sauna. your hand grabs toji’s wrist and you slowly guide it down between the valley of your legs. the static of his plump shriveled fingertips brush up between the crevices of your thighs and it nearly makes you break character. “i want you both, please.”
“aw,” toji hums hoarsely, his pursed lips forming into a wry grin.
the more their hands ran down every inch of your body, the more your heart beat raced. its thumping quickened, and your thighs forcibly squeeze themselves together. the dark haired male softly creates circles around your thighs with a single digit before speaking breathlessly. “you want both of us, huh. not jus one? that’s bein’ pretty greedy, doll.”
“toji, she can be greedy if she wants,” nanami coos, and you make direct contact with him. .
the nanami kento, you’ve heard a lot about him. him and toji were both hot favored actors but him. actresses would kill to be in your role, kill to be in your shoes.
nanami kento was as smooth as they come.
suave, a gentleman, and of course, a smooth talker. your eyes gawk down his attire and he’s wearing nothing but casual—his sleeves were sexily rolled up and his usually parted blond hair was slightly ruffled and unkempt - most likely due to the growing humidity of the sauna.
tender brown eyes bore into you before he places a kiss near the twitching corner of your mouth. “relax, sweetheart. you’ll get what you want, promise. just be a good girl. can you do that?”
feeling as if your thighs were stuck together by imaginary adhesive glue, you let off a soft panting whine. “y- yes,” and you gasp, watching as toji’s head creeps lower. he’s being slow on purpose, teasing you—wanting for you to long for more, for him to hurry up.
a few bristles of his hair tickles and pokes against your leg before your chin’s softly being grabbed by nanami again.
“ah ah, eyes on me. don’t worry about him, focus just on me sweetheart,” and the two of you lock eyes. nanami’s dimples poke against the left side of his lips and he’s so pretty, he cups your cheek and you instantly lean into his touch. “good girl, get lost in my eyes.”
your mind’s running at such quick speed—it’s trying to remember the next parts of the script as they continue the foreplay. nothing could really be heard except for nanami’s gruff low voice and the faint whirring inside of the sauna.
the next scene, nanami would lean in for a kiss and toji would eat you out. you remember looking over the filthy script many months ago before you even landed the roll.
as your eyes would skim through every word, the explicit dialogue—the mannerisms they’d perform on you, a school of swarming butterflies would pour inside the pits of your stomach.
and now, it’s finally here.
it’s as if time stood still once nanami starts to lean in, closing the awkward distance between you two. once his lips gently crash onto yours, it’s as if your heart stopped for a minute. tender, passionate, and open-mouthed.
your head slightly tilts as you part your lips wider to give him access. nanami lowly groans in your mouth, tasting your syrupy saliva tangle against his own. “mhm,” and every few seconds, loud echoing smacks would slam against both lips. he tastes minty, but on his tongue you could also taste a bit of alcohol lingering on his breath. it’s sweet, and you wanted more. whilst his tongue’s being shoved down your throat, toji scoffs. he’s propped right up between your legs and you feel his big wide hands spread your thighs more.
a nonplus gasp leaves your lips at his roughly gentle touch — your body can’t help but grind against nanami, wrapping an arm and tossing it over his shoulder. “fuck,” you speak between sultry hot kisses, another one of your hands running down the bare slit part of his exposed chest. there, you’re met with a few curls of blond chest hair. you twirl it around with your finger and he groans in your mouth at your touch. back to toji, he starts slow. he creates sloppy wet licks and kisses that trail all down from your waist until he’s finally near your shorts.
“watch that mouth of yours,” toji utters, hot breath ghosting between your thighs.
he’d get closer and closer, closer until he’s just inches away from your the pretty fabric that sticks against your skin. verdant green eyes peer into the cloth that’s attached to your panties and he hums. “cute,” he rasps, pulling down the hem of your shorts for a quick inside peek. “looks like you remembered to wear panties this time after all. somebody’s learnin’, heh.”
“toji, stop teasing me,” your breath hitches, feeling nanami pull away to kiss near your neck once more. he was so gentle, curling his tongue around that sweet spot buried right near the inside of your neck and it makes you oh so weak.
toji just gives you a sly deadpans at you needy comment, slowly pulling down your denim bedazzled shorts.
with a scoff, he tugs on your panties with his teeth. “nah,” and with the fabric in his mouth, his words were a bit muffled. “dunno what’s the point of wearing these stupid things since ‘m jus gonna steal them again anyway.”
a breath gets lodged in your throat once nanami starts to suck against your neck, his teeth gingerly grazing against your skin. his breath was always so warm, every time it sets against your bare flesh you moan. as your glossy eyes ogle down back at nanami, you huff with a cute frustrated expression. your eyebrows knit and compress together and you merely whine. “just hurry the fuck up,” and your neck starts to lean back a bit. with both men having their hands on you—you weren’t sure how long you’d last.
constantly, you had to keep reminding yourself, it’s just a movie, it’s just another scene. .
or is it?
you’re entrapped inside of your thoughts, fully forgetting that you’re on film. as you’re in a temporary fantasm—you bite your lip before a clammy hand finds its way through toji’s shaggy ravened strands. instantaneously, black tresses entwine between your silvery fingers and you moan. he lays his tongue flat, teasingly lapping near the center part of your panties.
fuck, you’ve read over his parts specifically at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do during this scene but you didn’t expect it to feel this good.
toji’s breath was balmy, slow breaths whirl and fan against your clit that’s just barely being protected by the string of your panties.
nanami’s sloppy kisses trail down toward your chest and oh, you felt like you were floating. “poor baby’s fuckin’ soaked,” toji snickers as a fat thumb drags down your sopping cunt. he’s so quick that you don’t even realized he pulled down your panties—you don’t even know where they went. probably in his pocket, again. you feel a wave of heat flush over you as you can feel his feral gaze stare into your twitching muscle. “look at my girl’s nasty ‘lil pulse.” he hums, and his tongue does one single beginning lick near your folds. you whine, and his cold tongue as cold as ice. it’s a type of feeling you couldn’t put into words.
“toji, don’t hog her. i want a taste too,” nanami says in a gentle voice. speaking of, nanami could say the most nastiest things and it would still end up coming out like a compliment.
“s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, watching both of them with near half-lidded eyes once you see nanami’s head creep down also.
now, you’re being met with a chilling hungry yet feral gaze. you throbbed even more as you’re sprawled all out against the fragile bench of the sauna. tears of perspiration start to bubble against your skin as the heat gets a bit more thicker. it’s humid, and you don’t know if it was the temp of the sauna or them making you feel hot but you wanted more. your eyes meet them again, and you feel yourself getting more aroused once you realize. . they were both down on their knees for you.
to your left—there’s toji, he’s got the must smug expression. already near the left side of his lip, there’s a few droplets of your honeyed slick coating against his mouth. all from a single lick, you felt embarrassed at how wet you were. it was actually in the script that they would use lube to help you but clearly, you didn’t need it in the slightest. toji’s wearing a burgundy tank top that nearly sticks against his hard toned pecs. he’s so toned, a burly beefy body that looks almost chiseled, stoned. he looks like he’s been literally carved and sculptured from top to bottom. your eyes stare at his broad shoulders, his thick pecs, and even how a few of his black chest hairs pokes out from his shirt.
and then to your right, there’s nanami. a thumb of his slowly makes its way down your drooling salivating cunt and he’s almost in awe.
his pink glossy lips press up towards your entrance before he gives it a soft welcoming kiss. you moan at how delicate he was, and the longing tender stare he constantly gave you merely made your knees buckle. as the humidity rises in the sauna, strands of his hair continue to swelter against his forehead with the help of slimy sweat.
“my, my,” he purrs in a low voice, and they’re both right between your thighs. you couldn’t help but feel a palpitating sensation brew up between your legs. “we’ve got ourselves a wet one, toji.”
“yeah,” the dark haired murmurs, and his eyes narrow. but toji wasn’t fond of sharing - not one bit.
with a piqued eye roll, he leans in to lap his tongue against your pussy once more before nanami follows.
you release a sweet elongated moan you were holding in for the longest - but you remembered you had to be dramatic for the scene — fake.
that was kind of hard considering the blatant fact that yhey were actually making you feel good. but alas, you lazily slouch back against the wooden bench, letting off your best exaggerated moan.
nanami and toji both look at you at the same time and toji refrains himself from bursting out laughing. staying in character, he clears his throat, spanking your cunt. you moan, and your grip against his hair becomes more rough. he feels you yanks forward with a solid tug, grunting, and that’s when you feel nanami’s soft tongue present itself too.
slow, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit and your eyes gradually roll themselves back. it’s now to where they’re both lapping up your dripping taste at the exact same time—both sloppy tongues flicking and slithering against your cunt oh, and you were an entire mess. it’s as if they were competing against each other. as they both bury their heads between your thighs, you start to shake, dragging their heads back and forth into your sopping pussy.
with your toes curling and your chest heaving, you mewl out a sweet whine. “oh my g-god,” your voice squeaks out, swallowing your own sheer arousing embarrassment.
their breaths collide against each other and land right on your pussy. so pretty, nanami’s eyes were closed whilst toji’s were wide open. he’s giving you a smug cheeky grin the entire time, using a thumb to occasionally glissade down against your twitching pussy. “damn, taste so sweet,” toji grunts, and you can hear the salacious timbre in his voice. a voice so deep that your thighs vibrate together. fuck, your hands end up delving through each of their strands of hair, tightly pulling them closer towards your pulsating heat.
both hairs curl within your fingers before you pull their faces even closer against your crying cunt, almost suffocating them. “mhm,” toji’s lips nearly glue against your pasty folds.
nanami’s tongue romantically swirls itself around until it reaches near your sweet nub.
that spot - your brain haphazardly haywires and short circuits right away and your knees almost collapse. “fuck, f- fuck ‘ken.” you gasp, dragging his head up. once you do, you’re met with a sleazy smile—he’s pussy drunk. it takes you a minute to realize maybe he’s not being in character anymore. nanami’s dimple still prods against both sides of his cheeks before he leans down, spitting right against your cunt.
“go on, ‘toj. lick it up since you wanna be greedy,” nanami playfully titters, running a hand through his hair just so he could touch your fingers.
toji’s shooting vexed daggers toward the blond before he’s almost nose deep against your pussy.
once he’s actually nose deep, he sniffs your cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right up. he does it all while staring at you too. “hmph,” he grouses, his long tongue moving toward nanami’s area, now slurping up nanami’s own sheeny trickling saliva.
you couldn’t lie, watching the entire risqué scene of both men fighting over eating you out right before you, right between your legs made you throb even more.
toji’s raven arched brows tweak inward before a hand of his pries your left thigh further apart. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what ‘ta do.”
nanami chuckles, pressing kisses near the warm crevices of your thighs. fawn sparkling irises flicker toward you before he whispers. “you doin’ okay, sweetheart. ‘s alright?”
“y- yeah,” your voice grows more shaky as toji continues. as if it had a mind of its own, a hand of yours tugs on nanami’s hair, guiding his head back toward between your thighs. nanami shakes his head with a cunning smile, going back to lapping at your tasty treat stored right between your plush thighs. swallowing a circled lump that resides at the back of your throat, your legs start to jolt. “f- fuuuuck,” your voice strains, and toji and nanami’s just making out with your pussy.
you watch the entire time—occasionally glancing up at the large propped up canon camera that’s a few feet away from you. oh right, it’s just a scene.
you were practically using your bottom lip as chewing gum with how they were vigorously eating out your starved cunt as if it was their last meal. they both used their crimpy long tongues to create such filthy circles and shapes on and around your pussy, maneuvering their fingers inside your cunt and all.
your breath starts to grow more and more irregular — changing its speed to being a lot more quicker the more they remain sat between your thighs.
“she’s gettin’ close,” toji murmurs between sloshes of smacks with his lips. each lewd ‘pop’ he makes with his lips leaves you dizzy and begging for more. the edge of his scar that runs down the right side of his mouth smears and rubs all up against your clit and it feels so good. it tickles, but in a more raunchy kind of way.
with nanami occasionally blowing and whistling against your folds, you were surely about to lose it. your mind’s spiraling—and as your fingers remain tangled in both ruffled strands and curls of hair, their chins start to glimmer and stream down with your candied slick. “look at me, girl.” toji pats your cunt, although it’s more of a wet slap. you whimper, moist doused droplets coming from your own pussy wetting his palm right away.
your eyes meet toji and the laps of his tongue grow faster. he’s munching against your pussy, swerving his head from back and forth before he grunts, playfully biting down on your clit. not hard, but enough to where it makes you let off a cute shriek. “cum, cum on my tongue, baby.”
“ah, i think you mean cum on mine,” nanami corrects him, giving your sensitive twitching clitoral hood a single kiss.
your eyes go back and forth between the two of them, but you can’t even reply because within seconds, you’re cumming, hard.
your mouth slightly drops whilst your jaw dramatically hangs open—pathetically dangling open as they’re still lapping you clean. both scorching hot tips of your ears were stuffed with imaginary fuzz. you couldn’t hear for a few long seconds—not to mention, your body was being invaded by a plethora of tingles that shot through your body.
“f-fuuuckk,” you whine, and you’re uncontrollably shaking. it’s a rush, a crazed rush that you do don’t want to stop. as you’re spasming, you glance down at the two of them.
“mphm,” toji’s still slurping at your dewy slick juices that stream from you before nanami’s tongue gets tangled with his. he blinks thrice, and their lips abruptly meet. panting and heaving, you watch—not really remembering if that was on script but neither exactly pulls away.
they’re focusing their sloppy slick tongues on your spasming convulsing cunt while mashing glossed lips together. you throbbed at the lewd sight of your two co-stars, seeing toji grow flustered and nanami being a bit more dominant.
that was rare, as stoic as of a man that he was, you’d last expect to see toji this way. you moan, still felling their sloshing wet tongues twirl around the insides of your sobbing pussy all whilst they’re making out. at contact, they’re both tasting nothing but you on their tongues the entire time, a concoction of saliva entangles with each other as they relish in savoring your sweet taste on their tastebuds.
“maybe you’re the one who needed attention,” nanami gradually pulls away, stands of shimmery saliva dragging away from both pursed lips.
“tch. shut up,” toji grumbles, and he focuses back toward you. he slides a tongue across and over crooked his lips.
the next thing you knew—you were being lifted up, tossed right over toji’s burly shoulder.
you gasp, feeling nanami’s gentle eyes bore into your curves before he positions you, using a single hand to spread your shivering thighs apart. you were still a bit shaky and sensitive from your most recent release—your teeth still shattered and saw how their jaws locked, especially toji’s.
you felt every nerve jolt through your body, coursing through your veins.
but once the actual scene came, you were screwed.
it wasn’t fake anymore, your orgasms and moans were very much real now. and that was perfect, you were perfect, because behind the lens—it not only felt real but it looked real too.
your pretty expressions, your flat pink tongue lolling out of your mouth and the way you’re panting. toji’s fucking you from behind and he’s just mean. hard thorough strokes that makes his hips snap right into you, crash into you at full speed to where he’s creating a fatal collision.
“ah, open,” nanami whispers, and your eyelids that were practically droopy glance up. you’re met with nanami. the blond’s got a hand resting on top of the crown of your head before he taps a thumb against your cheek. “let me see that pretty mouth some more, my love,” and you lean into his touch. toji’s hips however were so rude—your sweet incoherent babbles soon starts to grow a bit more quavery due to how rickety he made your body. the olden wood of the sauna nearly splits and you can hear the blaring cracks after each rocky thrust. your lips part open and your eyes go straight toward his cock. his boxers were halfway on with the cerulean blue hem of it just hanging and protecting his sharp carvend v-line.
so pretty, you just wanted to run your tongue up and down and across every line and spot that decorates his soft skin.
“ngh, a-atta girl,” the blond’s brows reluctantly twist together, watching your warm mouth slowly take him in fully.
god, your eyes were so mesmerizing to look at. he delicately cups underneath your chin, feeling the minuscule amounts of saliva drip from your lips. your jaw remains to hang open, dangling like an earring—and that’s when he’s slowly inching himself inside your tight warm throat.
immediately, you see a bit of his blond curly pubes through your blurred peripherals. nanami’s abs clench and tighten at the feeling of your hot mouth and he groans. “my good . . girl, ugh. pretty girl with an even prettier throat.”
toji’s still propped up behind you, two broad hands attached to your waist—practically glued on. you whine, your sweet noises becoming muffled as his hips plummet into you raw.
you feel your toes curl up within each sloppy degrading thrust he makes. as you’re taking nanami’s cock, you swirl your tongue around his mushroom tip that’s got a faint splash of pink painting near the very top. he’s bittersweet, your lashes flutter as your pretty plump lips envelope around his hefty length. a single prodding vein that runs down his cock twitches inside of your mouth and you moan at the feeling.
“fuck,” toji hisses, feeling your gummy insides squeeze and clamp around him. you’ve got your back arched as your hands cling onto the sauna’s ligneous bench.
the furniture’s woody and it continuously tottering by the second—loudly creaking as his pivotal strokes deepen. every few seconds, he’d swat a palm against your ass just to hear your cute whimpers. toji likes to gawk at the recoil, the way your ass cheek jolts back against his hand from the spank, it’s cute.
the concise twinges that follow from his hand makes your moans get louder, reverberating through the thin tapered walls of the sauna.
raspy pants leave from toji’s gruff vocal chords before his callous fingertips dig deep into the fat of your hips. his foot’s tapping against the floor as his head slightly cocks itself back. “mhm, shit. such a nasty girl, gettin’ stuffed from front ‘ta back. ‘s that what you really wanted, hm?”
since your mouth was currently occupied with nanami’s thick inches—you nod while starting to feel his bulbous tip repeatedly thwack back against the roof of your mouth. your eyes squeeze shut for a second as you’re twirling your tongue around his veiny length. steadily, nanami’s cock grows inside your mouth and you happily keep it warm. each twitching vein that runs down his shaft, you flick your tongue against it just to hear him moan out your name. you’re so aroused that you try to sneak a hand down between your trembly thighs, only to be swatted away by toji’s hand. you whine, a pout forming against your swollen lips as his pace quickens.
“no touchin’ my pussy,” he mumbles, and you felt yourself twitch. now that wasn’t in the script, but the more he smacked your cunt, the more you felt extra butterflies stir inside your stomach.
toji’s got such a good angle on you—he’s ferocious, ravaging through your pasty walls, feeling your sloppy slick run all down his cock.
your ass almost glues against his pelvis, and that’s when he leans right up against you. skin against skin, big hands reach near your chest, toying with your bouncy neglected tits. you moan, feeling his thumbs curl and squeeze against your perky nipples that poke through the blouse of your shirt. “such a pretty rack, yeah,” he lowly whispers, licking near your neck. his voice was so low up against your ear. so low, the playfulness in his voice was almost enough to make you cream on his cock right then. toji’s base was very full, and he’s now just smacking against your bare ass with. a few seconds later, he groans, feeling the brief pangs of electricity ripple near the undersides of his meaty calves. “ugh, god such a pretty view like this though. ‘ken fuckin’ wishes he had my spot.”
“oh, don’t flatter yourself, toji,” the blond hums, though as he’s speaking, you could tell he’s flustered.
your tongue has nanami stammering a bit, he’s patting your head, strumming a thumb against your pursed lips. once he meets your gaze, his breath nearly gets stolen away. “you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart. makin’ me feel so good,” and you watch his adam’s apple bobble. his praise warmed something in your heart.
it was something about being degraded from behind and praised near the front.
toji’s reeling your ass further back into his hips with ease whilst you’re focusing your eyes strictly on nanami. nanami’s heart races at the sight of you and now, he’s wondering if this really is just a scene anymore.
he found himself getting lost in your eyes—maybe it was a bit unprofessional, but you’ve had the gaze of an ethereal galaxy. the way your pupils would doe up and dilate as your head goes up and down against his length, he wanted more of you.
“that’s it,” he grunts, running a hand through his matted blond strands. nanami nearly loses his balance once your sucking turns into slurping. you’re a mess, your entire chin being damp because of your own saliva. he wipes some of it up with his thumb, only to taste it himself and he moans. your head continuing to bobble and he’s about to break, no, he is breaking. “slobber a- all on it, don’t be shy pretty girl. ‘s okay to be my messy girl. there we go.”
“tch.” toji’s eyes roll, and he’s still striking into you. your cunt was clingy, gripping around him tightly like a vice. the feeling makes his jaw tighten whilst your stomach seizes in rapture. he’s so deep, your limbs felt so flimsy as your pathetic breaths start to get more strained and breathy.
toji’s grip was angry, it’s french kissing right up against your cervix and you can’t help but let off a squeal. right there, he knows that’s your sweet spot and once he suddenly realizes it, his rude thrusts become purely maddened.
more souse streams of saliva drips down your chin as you’re slathering the entirety of nanami’s cock with your own filthy viscid spit. you look so pretty, cock drunk and on the verge of finishing yet again.
toji fucks like a madman—each stroke felt like your entire body was gonna snap in half. his body’s hovering over you and his warm completely radiates against your own. he’s so close that he’s merely humping you, sloppy greedy strokes becoming more feral as the seconds pass. his tip massaged your walls through and through, and your eyes were rolling way back until you saw nothing but pearly white at the back of your sockets.
by this point, this entire scene didn’t feel like you were filming for a movie anymore. it slipped your mind, you forgot this was literally your job.
“s- sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum,” a husky voice interrupts your thoughts, and your tongue still toys with his leaky slit. a hand of yours wraps around his full base, stroking him with a few good solid pumps and he’s so close. your touch made him shudder, the kind of shudder where he’s just addictive for more.
more of you.
“heh, that’s right. milk the pretty boy, babygirl. he’s all flustered because of y’er throat. that’s rich,” toji snickers, a rough cackle leaving his lips as his eyes meets his abashed co-star.
it was true, nanami was entirely flustered—he’s even avoiding eye contact now and sweating pinballs. toji’s hands were now sweating from the palms and he pulls your hips continuously back into him, each slam becoming more merciless.
but fuck, his cock was just insanely thick — it expanded through your walls as your cunt merrily constricts around his length.
it slides in and out, the squelches that your cunt makes because of it leaves you craving for more. your sopping wet, and he’s only making it ten times worse nanami narrows his eyes at toji’s teasing, lightly pulling your head down just a bit more to keep your attention back towards him. “hah, don’t listen to him, pretty. eyes on me, let me see that gorgeous face ‘m about to p-paint, fuck.”
nanami’s blushing tip reddens, and once he finally cums—it’s so much. it shoots out in stringy milky ropes, velvety and all.
it paints right onto your flat tongue and your eyes snap shut for two seconds at the bittersweet taste. your lips felt tepid, still having your mouth wrap around his cock as his dick now becomes soft and flaccid. “god,” he whines, multiple metallic fingers of his delving in your scalp.
nanami’s so pretty after he finishes, he’s got somewhat of a feverish glow to him and you see his veins pop out through each of his bulky muscles. it shows right through his shirt he wore, which was close enough to being see through.
“take it, swallow it f’ me sweetheart,” and he cups your chin, removing his dick from your dampened lips. his eyes were just as droopy as yours and he’s heavily panting. “ah, can you do that?”
with your cheeks all puffed up and stored full of cum, you’re completely dimwitted. you give him a nod, swallowing the hot seed before taking a second to breath. nanami doesn’t waste any time and he leans in, pulling you into a kiss. “i want a taste of myself too.” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses. as his head lowers to your level, you moan at the feeling of his lips pressing onto yours. it’s passionate, his tongue intertwines with your own and he then roves the tip of his tongue near the crevice of your mouth. there, he tastes a few remnants of his cum and it makes him groan.
toji’s still plowing into your sopping cunt that’s fully drenching down on him before he quips.
“hn. freaks,” and literally seconds after that, his cockiness fades away because he’s now cumming too. it’s quick, it hits him at full force like a speed of a semi-truck. toji’s ramming his cock up against that sweet spongey texture that’s making you whimper before he finishes himself. the build up was practically non existent. it was just sloppy, the hormone rush drives him insane and now he’s the one that’s short-circuiting. “oh s- shit,” he growls, feeling his dick starting to tighten and shrivel up whilst deeply buried inside of you. your grip was just so wet, it makes him suck his teeth in elation at how dripping wet you were.
from the waist down, he feels numb and his hips start to slow. it’s a buzz that even spreads toward his spine and he gruffs, spanking against your ass. “ngh, pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous,” his voice falters, it’s husky low pitch turning more high. it’s cute, and there’s a faint pout growing on toji’s lips.
nanami looks up at him with a flustered expression. “aw, too much for you toji?”
“shut up,” he groans, still feeling the after effects. toji came a lot too, masses of creamy hot cum fills up inside of you before it spurts toward your womb.
your thighs were on its final hinges as you were still arched and hunched over, desperate to see what you looked like from behind.
you were probably a mess, a mess with cum dribbling out of your fluttering hole. a saturated translucent ring forms around his base as he stops his thrusts completely, preparing to pull out. for once, hes speechless—at least for a few seconds anyway. “fuck me,” he groans, and his cock too, was now flaccid and idle.
your fingers run down towards your puffy clit to feel for yourself and oh, it’s even more stuffed than you even imagined.
sappy runny amounts trickle down your cunt, past your swollen lips and onto the sauna’s floor. you moan, squeezing two fingers inside to toy with yourself some more but that’s right when nanami swiftly grabs your wrist.
“ah, no sweetheart. no touching what’s ours,” he whispers, a thumb softly caressing near your palm. he sees the pout that mangles against your lips and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “i’ll think about letting you touch her after we shower.”
“and who says it’s up to you,” toji rolls his eyes, his voice still a bit shaky. he reaches near the glass cabinet for a dry towel before wrapping it around his slim waist. “i mean, i wouldn’t let her touch herself either but still.”
“but—”
“there there,” nanami shushes you, bringing a soft kiss to your lips. your face softens as you return the gesture, and you then gasp once he toji lifts you up. nanami wraps a towel around his waist also, and toji creeps up beside him. cool air wafts against your skin at the sudden movements as he then opens the glass sauna door. “c’mon, let’s at least shower on it.”
as you’re slung over toji’s broad shoulder, your eyes were met with the floor. all of you walk out of the scene set and toji’s big hand squeezes near your ass. “wonder if she can take us both at the same time.”
“she’s a good girl, i think she can,” nanami kisses your forehead as toji walks with you. “right, princess?”
you still felt hot all over your body, but you nod, wrapping your arms around toji’s neck. “y- yeah,” and your nose buries inside the depths of his collarbone. his strong brawny cologne scent again, you’re hit with it face first from each whiff. “i can take you both.”
“um excuse me? this isn’t in the fucking script!”
nanami and toji both glance at the director who’s got a vein popping out of his forehead. toji snickers and nanami grows sheepish.
“eh. it is now,” toji shrugs, and he gives your ass a teasing smack. “c’mon, doll,” and he snickers, turning his head to whisper to you. “we aren’t finished with ya just yet, heh,” and toji glances at the director, giving your ass a spank as you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “cut.”
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misaamoure · 5 months ago
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝…!
⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:
“Yes,” Sylus threw his head back, exposing his adam’s apple. “Just like that.”
Things had gotten a little heated on the couch in the living room.
You two had been watching this old ass movie tied to a soundtrack in Sylus’s vinyl collection as a pastime, and had clearly gotten distracted.
He had been very periodic and methodical with his caresses and touched, before finally leaning over and whispering in your ear, “instead of watching a movie, why don’t we make one?”
Stupid. How predictable.
Sylus was beyond hot though, so you let it slide.
Turning away for a moment to roll your eyes, you swing your leg over his lap to straddle him.
And that’s how you two ended up here.
You’d never had a makeout session so intense.
You felt his hands all over you… you felt like you were on fire.
You were also more than positive that your wetness had leaked all the way through your panties and pants.
“Oh!”
Your train of thought was interrupted when Sylus thrusted right up into you.
It felt so good… you could feel his hard dick pressing right into your clit.
“You shouldn’t give away what you like so easily, sweetie,” He gave one last squeeze to your tits before moving his hands down to grip your waist. “You’re giving me such a large advantage.”
Jesus Christ he talks too damn much.
You didn’t particularly feel like arguing with him today. Sure, it could be fun, but what you really wanted was to shut him up.
Deciding to take the initiative, you repositioned yourself to sit right on his hard dick, and started to roll your hips back and forth.
Sylus inhaled sharply, something you didn’t miss.
Grinding on him slowly and sensually, you feel his hands twitch on your waist as you kissed down his jawline to give his neck a sharp bite.
The sound of Sylus’s heavy breathing and moaning only egged you on further.
“Fuck, kitten,” He shut his eyes tightly, throwing his head back. “Wait…”
Sylus was going fucking crazy.
Why did it feel so good? It was just a little kissing and grinding.
He suddenly felt like a horny teenager all over again.
But it felt so fucking good… you felt so fucking good. Rarely did you ever have the chance to get on top like this.
Maybe he should let you do it more often.
It was so out of character for him, to be moaning and panting like this. His head was a mess.
His boxers were a mess too, all the precum he had been leaking.
The electrifying feeling of your wet cunt dragging over his cock was driving him over the edge quicker than he’d like to admit.
“Wait, please,” Sylus felt fucking neurotic, begging like this. “Y/N… wait…”
It wasn’t long after that Sylus felt himself cum in his pants. Hard.
Holding you tightly by the waist and panting up a storm.
Oh my god… there’s no way he…?
You quickly sat up on your knees, lifting yourself off of his lap to see with your own two eyes.
And he did! There was an unmistakable wet spot right where his dick was.
Fuck… it was so erotic.
𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:
Unintentional dry spells. It was common between you and Zayne.
He was always busy at the hospital and you were constantly running around to kick wanderer ass.
But you two always made that lost time up.
In fact; you can say with full confidence that you preferred the sex after the build up.
There was a particular intensity that came with it that simply couldn’t be replicated.
Nobody else saw Zayne with this level of passion but you.
It was his day off and he had invited you over.
While you two had been once sitting on his couch, things had began to get heated after Zayne initiated a kiss with you, stating how much he missed you.
It was rare for him to verbalize exactly what he felt so boldly.
Oh he was so sweet. The sweetest man you’d ever met.
Cut to you being on top of him with him laying on the couch below you.
You don’t even remember when you got on top of him. Well… not that it mattered.
Not when he was making you feel this good. He was the only thing on your mind at the moment.
“Y/N… please,” You felt his grip on your waist tighten as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Wait…”
Hearing him beg and plead with you was making you unbelievably wet.
You didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t stop. It was too good. And you’d been waiting for him for hours.
With every pass of Zayne’s hard cock over your clothed clit you became more and more aggressive.
“I’m not going to last like this,” He said breathlessly. “Please, my love, enough…!”
Oh my god was it your birthday?
Making Zayne cum in his pants sounded maddening.
He was under you losing his mind.
Zayne could feel how wet you were through all the layers you two were wearing.
The delicious friction of how perfectly you were grinding on him was bringing him to his climax all too quickly.
“Y/N… I’m-”
Digging his fingers into your hips, Zayne came all into his boxers.
Shit… you drove him crazy.
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Watching you
Hwang In-ho x female!reader.
Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia
W/c: 3,5k
It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.
He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.
When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.
When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.
“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.
“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.
“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.
And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.
When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?
Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.
“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.
He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.
“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.
He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.
Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.
“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.
“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.
———————
The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.
He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.
It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.
When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.
Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.
——————
Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.
10
You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.
Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.
“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.
“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.
“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.
Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.
He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.
The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.
“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.
“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.
“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.
“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.
“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.
“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?
“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.
Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.
“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.
“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.
His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.
You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.
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scorpiosbite · 2 months ago
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when drew watched actress!reader’s sex scene for the first time
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── drew’s been binging game of thrones ever since that fateful day madelyn forced him to watch the show, what was meant to be a normal binge session turns into him being the horniest he’s ever been. making the anticipation of meeting you even heavier.
𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey
author’s note: this takes place during the filming of obx 4, before madelyn informed the obx cast that they were going to meet you when you came to LA.
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drew could not tear his eyes away from the screen of the tv in his moroccan hotel room. he thought that after watching game of thrones consistently, now nearing the end of the first season he would become accustomed to see you in costume, but every time you came onto the screen his breath was taken away. seeing you in that the sliver waist length wig that looked like it was your real hair, the sheer fabric floor length dresses with the daring cuts that exposed more and more of your soft skin, and the intricate dornish jewellery with the subtle targaryen detailing made him feel like a teenager once again with how quickly his pants tightened. and it wasn’t only how you looked, it was also your performance. you were an astonishing actress, he would forget that you weren’t actually visenya in real life, that this world didn’t actually exist and that you were just acting. he was so captivated by you.
“the last dragon, that’s who you are visenya, the last targaryen left in the world, perhaps if you favoured your mother in looks, you would escape the pressures of the targaryen name, but you do not, you look just like rhaegar only with the tanned skin of elia.” you rolled your eyes and drew felt his heart jump. surrounded by the hanging gardens of sunspear in dorne, you paced with aggression, your sliver hair swishing behind you, your dress billowing as you stared down your costar. “have you come to lecture me of my responsibilities as the last targaryen, jaime? all while your bastard son sits my throne? and your sister puppets him from behind.”
“we are only married because your father knew that once i take back my throne i will come after the lannisters for your family’s hand in my mother and brother’s murders. he thought that if we were married that i would not harm you and your name would live on through my womb. but i am no fool, targaryen women have been known to kill their husbands, who is to say my coin wasn’t flipped on the side of madness. that is the saying is it not? when a targaryen is born the gods flip a coin, greatness or madness.” you now stood face to face with the man, staring him down with a smug expression and drew was once again struck with your talent as an actress, your body displayed the anger and frustration that your character felt despite the facade of arrogance on your face. then suddenly your lips connected with his, the actor who played jaime slid his hand around your waist, the cuts of your dress allowing him to touch your bare skin, your hands went to his hair and drew had never felt so jealous of another man.
jaime picked you up with ease, walking backwards to a chair sitting down with you spread on his lap, and drew thought that he would do anything to have you like that. the camera filmed you from the back, jaime’s hand caressing your exposed back down to your ass, and drew squeezed the covers of his bed in response. the camera cut to a mid shot of both of you from the side, you broke the kiss your face still so close to his, lips brushing together as you spoke in a hushed tone. “i want you to fuck me, jaime.” drew groaned at the lust in your voice, and wondered if that was what you sounded like in real life. jaime’s actor groaned in response to your statement and drew felt sympathy for the man, because he knew that if he was in that position instead of him he would be unable to stop himself from cumming in his pants, professionalism be fucked.
jaime’s hands trailed to the back of your neck and the camera cut to back to the shot of your back, closing up on his hands as his hands pulled at the strings holding your flimsy dress together the camera seemed like it was handheld making the shot feel all the more intimate, the material fell and jaime tugged the dress off of you leaving you completely bare but drew could only see your back and up, but then, the camera cut to a wide shot, and drew gasped as your entire body from the back was exposed. jaime’s hand coming down to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass and drew felt his cock harden at the sight. the camera cut to an over the shoulder shot from jaime and your bare chest came into view, this time drew couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him, your hands tugged at the strings of jaime’s pants although the camera kept on you, your hands out of the shot.
you sank down on jaime’s cock and a whine-like moan escaped you, drew felt like he was going insane, he couldn’t stop himself as he tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing up to slap against his stomach. his hand wrapping around the thick length, squeezing, pearly beads of pre cum leaking out. drew flicked his eyes back up to the screen and you had your head thrown back as you bounced on jaime’s cock, drew knew that the pleasure on your scrunched up face was fake, that the melodious moans that were escaping your pretty lips that were hung open were fake, but the way your tits were bouncing was real and drew couldn’t stop himself from tugging his cock in time with the movements of your hips, your head tilted back down to gaze down at jaime your eyes so fucked out and drew wished that it was him you were looking at. that it was him that could run his hands all over you.
you spoke breathlessly “targaryens used to feed their enemies to their dragons, i don’t have a dragon yet, perhaps i shall just eat you myself, husband.” jaime groaned in response, connecting your lips back together and drew sped up his movements his hand stroking with fervour, the squelching sounds echoing through the room, his other hand coming down to squeeze at his balls, his eyes still glued to you on the tv. drew was close he could feel it and as your body shuddered and you collapsed into jaime’s lap, drew came with a deep groan. cumming all over his chest and stomach. drew threw his head back against his headboard, he felt just a little bit pathetic, that he didn’t have the courage to message you but he could jack off to you doing your job, but god what he would give to have you like that.
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TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chimmysoftpaws
you guys are not believe the fucking writers block i suffered while writing this for it just to turn out so shit but nevertheless I hope you enjoyed!
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girlygguk · 7 months ago
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FIRST CLASS | JJK (m)
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SUMMARY in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.
𓍯𓂃
PAIRING rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader
WORDCOUNT 25k+
RATING 18+ MINORS DNI
GENRE smut, fluff, angst. university au, f2l
CONTENT childhood best friends, nepo baby!reader, nepo baby!jk, tae sister!reader, heavy pining, heavy cursing, a bit of crack throughout, (soft?) fuckboy!jk, whipped!jk, simp!jk, kinda emotionally constipated!reader, lack of & miscommunication, the most dramatic fic you’ll ever read, jk has his tats & shorter hair (ref in banner pic), jk is a tits guy and reader has big tiddies, jk & reader are very touchy and lovey friends, reader is kind of a bitch to those she doesn't care about, reader is rich but jk is richer 😩, arguments between mcs, jealousy, bottled up feelings, toxic/unhealthy friendship if u were to really think about it, jk & reader have active sex lives beforehand, reader is in a fwb situation beforehand, there is an explicit scene between reader & a side character (but no sex), punch up/fight scene/blood, potential/near-miss car accident, 2 scenes where characters get badly physically injured, alcohol consumption, use of a few male idol names (mingyu, jaehyun, felix), the rest of bangtan are side characters, the last like 9k(?) is literally just smut helppp, happy ending.
18+ WARNINGS making out, grinding, dry humping, fingering (f rec.), oral (both rec.), slight exhibition?..you'll see, pet names during sex, dirty talk, use of the word slut in praise, so much praising, biting, jk likes the pain ok, body worship, tiddy sucking, mentions of tiddy fucking, ball play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, bigg dick jk, soft dom!jungkook, subby!reader, unprotected sex, ocs a pro dick riderr 🙂‍↕️, creampie, sweet aftercare
author's note thank you all so much for the love on the teaser! it truly motivated me to finish this quicker than i ever expected. however, proofing such a long piece was a veryyy different experience to what i'm used to, so if u see any inaccuracies or timeline inconsistencies... no u don't <3
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main masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit
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first class ; noun /ˌfəːs(t) ˈklɑːs/ a set of people or things grouped together as the best.
The biting cold of the winter evening settles over Yonsei University's lacrosse field, floodlights casting long shadows on the frosted grass. You pull your mink coat tighter around yourself, the chill seeping through despite your layers. Sitting on the bleachers with Park Jimin and his twin sister, Park Minji, you watch the game unfold.
The match is in full swing: Yonsei versus Hanyang, another top South Korean university. The excitement is palpable as the outdoor stadium fills with spectators, creating a sea of blue and green—the colors of the respective teams they are rooting for. Jimin wears a blue puffer jacket in support, while your roommate Minji is swimming in a blue long-sleeve sports jersey that definitely does not belong to her, you think with a smirk.
You initially weren't going to attend tonight due to other plans, which is why you aren't sporting anything blue. But, after a whiny 20-minute call from your insufferable best friend, you canceled on Mingyu last minute and tagged along with the Parks. Not that you would've dressed in all royal blue anyway… you're not fucking crazy. But maybe you would've added a blue ribbon to your hair or something.
Taehyung and Jungkook, co-captains of the Yonsei team, are in their element, dominating the field with effortless skill. You watch as your brother and Jungkook easily clear the opposing team, their movements synchronized and precise.
Jimin nudges you with a gloved hand, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Your brother and Kook are killing it out there," he says, his eyes following the action on the field.
You nod, cheeks flushed from the cold. Giving him a hum in agreement, you glance over at Minji. Her focused gaze keeps drifting back to Number 12, almost subconsciously, before realizing and snapping back to the middle of the field.
You look away in amusement, focusing on the game again and watching as Number 12, Kim Namjoon, swiftly catches the ball flying through the air with his racket before bolting through an opening in Hanyang's layout.
As the game progresses, the Hanyang team rallies, their determination pushing them closer and closer to Yonsei's lead. The crowd tenses as the score tightens, but you remain composed. You've seen this scenario play out countless times before.
There are 20 seconds left in the match, and Yonsei is down by two points. The twins have matching pouts on their lips, beginning to come to terms with your school receiving their first defeat of the season.
You watch as Hanyang makes the pitiful mistake of trying to make a risky pass by Number 1.
In the blink of an eye, Number 1's racket shoots out and intercepts the catch, and with a final burst of speed, Jungkook breaks right through the opposing defense. His eyes lock on the goal, and with a powerful swing, he sends the ball soaring into the net.
The crowd erupts, cheers reverberating across the field as the final buzzer blares, signaling the end of the game. You can't help but smile at Jungkook's skill.
The Yonsei team quickly swarms around Jungkook, their cheers morphing into a sea of bodies that envelop him, eventually toppling him to the ground in a dogpile. As they begin to disperse, Taehyung leans down to his co-captain with a proud grin.
Jungkook takes Taehyung's hand with a chuckle, the elder hoisting him to his feet before draping an arm around his shoulder. Jungkook pulls off his helmet, shaking out his damp curls, which cling stubbornly to his forehead. His eyes then drift towards the bleachers, where he suddenly loses his train of thought.
There you are, in all your glory—wrapped in a long, expensive chocolate mink coat, cheeks flushed pink from the cold air.
Your smooth legs, sheathed in sheer stockings, disappear into boots that likely cost as much as a teenager's first car. He wonders about the color of your skirt hidden beneath your coat—is it brown to match, or black to complement your boots? The color, he isn't certain, but he does know it is either a skirt or a dress. You would never be caught dead in trousers and even avoid jeans if you can. Personally, Jungkook thinks you look spectacular in jeans.
Your hair hangs loose, styled pin-straight but tousled slightly by the breeze, and his fingers itch to tuck the stray strands behind your ear. You are engrossed in conversation with Jimin and Minji as the three of you descend the bleacher seats, now heading towards him and your brother. Your brother, who is now holding his helmet under his right arm, uses his left to tug his best friend out of his trance and towards their friends.
You and the Park siblings weave through the amped-up crowd before finally reaching where the co-captains are peeling off their gloves.
Jimin clasps Taehyung's hand, pulling him into a warm, brotherly hug. "That was a fucking game, Tae!" He exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face before giving the same greeting to Jungkook.
Minji follows suit, hugging Taehyung quickly before turning to Jungkook with a playful smirk. “You had us scared for a second, Kook,” she teases, “thought you weren’t gonna make that last shot.”
Jungkook chuckles, returning Minji's hug before leaning back and chucking his helmet on the ground, waiting for you to finish congratulating your brother.
"All part of the show," he replies to the twin with a wink before you pull away from Tae and float to him like second nature.
Nobody bats an eye as your arms slink around his shoulders, linking behind his neck. His taller frame leans down slightly on instinct, and his arms wrap around your waist. His face buries gently into your neck, pulling you a little closer. Your perfume renders Jungkook dazed, and he knows that he is a sweaty mess and smells like one too, but even if you notice, you don't mention it.
"Hi," he mumbles, his breath tickling your skin, causing you to smile and pull away slightly.
"Hi," you echo sweetly, noticing his eyes flicker down to where your coat has parted and your black Hermès mini-skirt peeks through.
You are about to ask him if he likes it because you just bought it yesterday, but he is quick to draw your coat tighter around you, probably not wanting the cold air to nip at you any longer.
He picks up his helmet and gloves, his tattooed arm slipping comfortably over your shoulder as the five of you head towards the locker rooms.
Your head rests against the side of his chest while you walk, and your friends are still beaming about Yonsei's fourth consecutive win of the season. Jungkook slows his steps slightly, letting the rest of your group pull slightly ahead.
"Glad you came," he says softly, his skin tingling as your nails lightly scratch against his shirt where your hand rests around his waist.
"Yeah, you better be," you hum teasingly, "Mingyu was not happy."
Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat before forcing out a laugh, "Tell him I'll make it up to him. Take him out on a date myself."
Your giggle soothes the ache in his chest before it returns tenfold at your response, "wasn't a date. Was just going to see him."
"Ohhaahah," his attempt at a laugh comes out more strained than he intends, and you snort, amused by his discomfort.
Before he can protest, you interlock his hand with yours and lead him towards the locker room, his steps quickening to match yours. He follows behind you like a puppy dog, as if this was your locker room and you were showing it to him for the first time.
A chaotic mix of celebration and exhaustion echoes throughout the building as you walk through the door that Tae holds open. The smell of sweaty lacrosse players all but hits you in the face, and Jungkook watches in amusement as your nose scrunches slightly. The warm air is welcoming though, and you let out a sigh as it works to defrost your frozen skin.
The changing room is packed to the brim with sweaty college boys high-fiving, recounting the game's highlights, and shedding off their gear. Jungkook lets go of your hand when you and Minji go over to say hi to Namjoon.
Taehyung is caught up in conversation with the coach, who is commending the team's performance and already running through some things they can work on in preparation for next month's match.
"Jaykayyyyyy!!"
"Let's fucking gooo, Jeon!"
"Good shit tonight, JK!"
You release Namjoon from the hug and turn towards the sudden commotion coming from the other side of the locker room.
Your best friend is at the center of the group, his teammates slapping his back and tousling his hair while showering him with praise. You notice his bunny-like teeth peeking out as he grins. No matter how confidently he carries himself throughout the day, he still flushes at compliments, which makes you roll your eyes amusedly.
Jungkook breaks away from the group and heads to his locker to check his phone while you return your attention to Namjoon and Minji, who are now caught in a quiet conversation.
You head over to Jimin, who looks to be passionately explaining something to Hobi and Yoongi, judging by his broad and exaggerated hand movements. He is a drama major though, so you can never be too sure.
A vibrating noise cuts your journey short. You fish your phone from your coat pocket and begrudgingly slip out of the locker room back into the cold air before answering. "Hey, Gyu."
"Hey, Y/N." Mingyu's tone is low and strained, like he’s in pain almost.
You tuck the strands of hair that were getting picked up by the wind behind your ear. "How can I help you?" you ask.
"Y/N," he grunts out a pained laugh, and you click.
You hear shuffling on the other side of the line while he sits up against his headboard.
"Yes? What do you need?" You're not going to do the work for him, and he knew that. He felt pathetic even making the call in the first place.
He goes quiet for a moment, and you pull your phone from your ear to glance at the time. "It's only 8 pm, and you sound like you're already in bed."
Mingyu nods as if you could see him, "I am. I have been for a while," he admits before asking you how the game was. You know he didn't actually give a shit about the game, but you still entertain him and answer
He drags out the conversation for a few minutes, running his hand through his hair at your voice. He doesn't want to hear it through the phone; he wants to hear it in person. He wants you to be in his room right now, like you said you would be.
Mingyu hates how disinterested you sound. Mingyu also hates how that very disinterested tone makes his cock throb in his sweatpants. You couldn't care less about him, whereas all he's been doing since you canceled on him three hours ago is lay in bed and fucking think about you. He sighs before biting the bullet, "Are you still coming over?"
Your brows furrow slightly, "Oh, I thought I told you that I was—"
"Can you still come over?" He rephrases his question, "please?"
Your lips purse as you consider it for a second. You don't have any classes tomorrow, so you guess you could head to his later tonight.
You're about to respond when the sound of the door opening behind you causes you to turn around.
You watch as the wealthiest student in the entire university approaches you, now dressed in a plain black hoodie and a pair of joggers, running a towel through his wet hair. It no longer looks sweaty wet but instead shampooed wet, so you assume he had a quick shower. "Hey, you okay? Why are you out here in the cold?"
"One second," you say into the phone before lowering it and moving closer to Jungkook. He closes your fur coat tightly around you again as it comes open from the strong wind while he waits for your response.
"Came out here to take a call. Too loud in there."
He nods, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "'K. We're going to Hanji's to eat. Did you want to ride with me?"
You're about to agree without even thinking when you remember the boy waiting on the other end of the call.
"Ah," you mutter, lifting the phone back to your ear. "I'll come over at like 11?" you say to Mingyu, not catching the frown that coats Jungkook's lips.
Mingyu almost protests but knows that 11 is better than nothing and stops himself. "Sweet. Just text me if you need me to pick you up."
You thank him before saying your goodbyes and ending the call. You look up at your best friend, his gaze unfocused. "Can I?" you ask.
"Hmm?" he hums, blinking a few times before focusing on your face.
"Ride with you?"
"Yeah," he smiles down at you, letting you link your arm with his as he leads you back into the warm locker room.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
Hanji's is loud. The clamor of sizzling grills and busy cooks no match for the chatter of students and customers that fill the room. You sip on an iced tea as your friends laugh and chat, still basking in tonight's victory.
Snug between your brother and Jungkook, you rest your head on the latter's shoulder, sipping your drink through a paper straw. His arm drapes over the back of the booth's chair, allowing you to settle comfortably as he chats with the swim team captain, Jin, who sits on the opposite side of the booth.
Your coat is folded on Jungkook's lap now that you're surrounded by the warm air of the diner, and his tattooed fingers play absentmindedly with the spaghetti strap of your top.
Taehyung leans over and snatches a dumpling from your untouched plate with his chopsticks, causing you to glance at him in faux annoyance. Your brother knows you don't actually care and flashes you a big, toothy grin which you can’t help but return.
You push the plate toward him, wordlessly telling him to have it all and his eyes light up for a split second before his brows furrow. "Why aren't you eating?" he asks concernedly, his words slightly muffled by a mouthful of food.
"Ate just before the game, I'm full," you reply, nodding when he asks if you're sure and watching him grab another dumpling.
Liar. Jungkook thinks as he watches Jin's mouth move but is unfocused on the words he's actually saying.
You don't eat before a link, a habit of yours Jungkook is very aware of, having asked you not to do it countless times before.
It's not that deep, you always tell him; you just don't enjoy sex much with a full stomach, it makes you feel sorta sick. And food always tastes better after sex anyway.
He glances down at you for a second, and you're already looking his way, your pretty eyes boring into his as if daring him to mention anything to your brother. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he turns away, attempting to hide his smile at your attitude.
Jin cracks a joke and glances at you for a reaction, prompting you to roll your eyes and laugh. He pumps his fist in the air triumphantly, earning a playful smack from his girlfriend.
Your friends are always like that—acting as if making you laugh is some monumental achievement. You're not a masochist; you don't avoid laughing on purpose. But you're rich, intelligent, and pretty... It takes a lot to impress you. Jungkook makes you laugh a lot though.
Seated next to Jin is his gorgeous high-school sweetheart, Mia, and next to her is your ever-so pouty housemate, Minji. You quietly observe Minji's gaze as it frequently drifts to the booth adjacent to yours, where Yoongi, his boyfriend Hobi, Jimin, and, most importantly, Namjoon are seated.
Minji sighs softly, snapping out of her daze as she looks down at her cider. Taehyung is laughing at something Jin said, leaning forward in front of you slightly to engage in conversation with the swimmer on the other side of the table. You take this moment to check on your friend.
Your head lifts off Jungkook's shoulder, and he resists the urge to turn and ask why, trying to stay focused on the story his Hyung is telling. You catch Minji's eye, offering her a small, questioning smile. She returns it as best she can before her expression morphs back into a troubled pout, and she shakes her head slightly.
You nod in understanding, tapping Jungkook's thigh as a signal that you'll be right back and ask Taehyung to let you out of the booth. Your brother stands, allowing you to shuffle out, and you grasp Minji's hand, tugging her along to the restroom.
Jungkook glances over, watching you usher Minji away from the table, and from the corner of his eye, he notices Namjoon looking over too.
Fifteen minutes go by, and you're reapplying Minji's mascara, which she cried off during her tearful spiel about her situationship.
"It's like h-he—" she pauses to hiccup, and you move the wand away to let her breathe, "—he just likes to mess with my fucking head! Every time we hook up he's all like 'Minjiiiiyahhh,'" you snicker at her imitation of his voice.
"’I can't get enough of you! I wanna do this forever!' but then when we're with everyone, it's like he's scared to even stand next to me! God, is he like, embarrassed of me or something?" She seethes, shaking her head in frustration.
You lift a tissue to her lash line, dabbing at the fresh tears brewing and scoff. "Embarrassed of you? Don't be ridiculous," you say, capping the mascara and sliding it back into her clutch, giving up on the rescue mission as the tears just keep coming.
"You are gorgeous," you turn your body to lean against the basin with her, linking her arm in yours. "Smart," you continue, resting your head on her shoulder. "Funny... sometimes," you tease, and she lets out a tearful giggle, her trembly hands curling around your arm as she snuggles into you in gratitude.
"God, I'm literally wearing his jersey. How pathetic." She laughs at herself, and your brows furrow slightly.
"How is that pathetic? I'm sure he wanted you to wear it, didn't he?"
"Well yeah... He was actually really cute when he asked if I would. He was all shy and shit. Fuck sakes," she groans in frustration, "it makes everything even more confusing!"
"Maybe he's just shy about showing affection in front of people? I mean, he is literally a computer science major..." You trail off and smile when she whines and wacks the arm of yours that she's leaning on.
"Seriously, though, don't cry over a guy, Min. And especially don't question your worth because of him." The bathroom falls silent except for her soft sniffles at your words.
You hand her the tissue that you're holding before adding, "You need to talk and set things straight with him, or you're just going to continue hurting." You internally scoff at the hypocrisy of your own words, but your roommate is none the wiser, nodding at you in agreement.
After a moment, she speaks quietly, "I wish I could be more like you."
"How so?" you ask, though you already have an inkling.
"You never get attached to the guys you hang with. I wish I could do that. It seems so much more freeing."
You hum half-heartedly in response, watching her dab at her eyes one last time before turning to wash her hands. Her words linger, echoing in your mind longer than they should. No, you don't get attached. Because you already know firsthand just how much it fucking sucks when the feelings aren't mutual.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
It's 11:12 pm. The scent of your Chanel No. 5 lingers in the air, blending with Jungkook's soft hums to his car radio. The warm air from the heater makes your eyes droop slightly.
"You have a nice voice," you murmur, toying with the tattooed fingers resting on your stocking-clad thigh.
He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "You always say that," he replies, eyes returning to the road as he stops at a red light.
"Because it's true," you state simply. "Do you disagree?"
He laughs softly at your bluntness, a familiar flush creeping up his neck. "Maybe."
"Hm," you roll your eyes, lifting one of his fingers and letting it drop before repeating the motion with the others. "Whatever, golden boy."
"Ya," he chuckles, squeezing your thigh gently, "don't call me that."
You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "You let everyone else call you that."
His lips purse into a slight pout. "Not you."
You blink at him, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile at his big, boba eyes. He just keeps staring at you, letting you fiddle with his hand. After a few long moments, you giggle at his dazed-out expression. "Light's green, Gukkie."
He snaps out of it instantly, facing back toward the road, and his foot hits the gas pedal a little quicker than intended. That's better, he thinks.
A few minutes later, he turns into the familiar entrance of Yonsei University, steering the car down the path that leads to the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity house. As he pulls into a parking spot in front of the building, you're halfway through sending a text, so he waits for you to finish before cutting off the heater.
You lock your phone and glance up just as he extracts the keys from the ignition. He pats your thigh gently before climbing out of the car. You follow suit, rounding the vehicle to meet him by the driver's side.
Instinctively, he reaches for your hand, fingers entwining, and you rest your head against his arm as you both ascend the front steps to the frat.
The foyer is dark as Jungkook leads you inside. He maneuvers through the hall effortlessly, even without his sight. He guides you up the stairs to the second floor, your hands still locked together, and he turns to face you when you reach the door to his bedroom.
You look up at him with a dumb smile, and he leans down to bury his face in your neck before he says something dumber. His back presses against the door, and as you lean into him, the scent of his clean, linen hoodie fills your senses.
Jungkook's love language is physical touch, and you let him have his moment, keening slightly when he nudges the side of your neck with his pretty nose. YYour phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it, wanting to spend five more minutes with your best friend.
"Do you have class tomorrow?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to be heard by his housemates.
He doesn't say anything, just shakes his head wordlessly, his curls tickling your skin as he does.
"Movie tomorrow then?" you suggest softly, letting him lean back slightly to look at you.
The moment you see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, you know his response before he even forms the words. His pouty lips part, ready to offer an excuse when you squint your eyes and lean away from him.
"Jesus, Jeongguk." You groan, still keeping your voice low, but he can hear the annoyance loud and clear. "Why do you get all pouty and sad when you have other plans? It's okay."
Jungkook's eyebrows furrow. He edges forward, trying to maintain some form of physical contact, but you just shrug him off. "I already agreed to it last night. I'm sorry, Y/N."
You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes. "Why are you fucking apologizing?" Your words have bite, but he doesn't react, simply leaning closer to you even though you continue to distance yourself.
You know you're overreacting in a sense, but every time he has plans with a girl, he always apologizes with that stupid fucking pout and those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes. And it's only when it's with another girl.
You weren't upset; you were well aware of his active sex life. It's like he expects you to burst into tears whenever he tells you he's seeing someone. Why the fuck would you care?
Jungkook reaches out to you in a last attempt to grab your hand, and you just stare at it, not making any move to accept the gesture. He sighs, letting his hand fall to his side while he looks at your pissed-off expression.
"Why?" You try again.
Jungkook's shoulders slump, and he looks down, avoiding your gaze. "I don't know," he responds softly. He barely catches the annoyance on your face fading, soon replaced with something that tugs at his heart even more—boredom.
"Okay then, Gukkie. Sleep well, we'll talk later," you say, nodding as you step closer to him. Your arms wrap around him in a quick hug, and before he can even react, you're walking down to the other end of the hall.
Jungkook's eyes stay focused on the ground, listening to your footsteps getting further away.
It's not until he hears a soft knock on his frat-mate's bedroom door and a fucked-out, "Shitttt, look at you," come from Mingyu that he scoffs, turning into his room and slamming the door behind him.
Thirty minutes pass, then an hour, then two, as Jungkook lies grumpily on his bed, glaring at his bedroom ceiling.
There was an unmistakable bang of a headboard against the wall down the hall at minute forty-five, followed quickly by your hushed voice telling Mingyu to keep it down. Jungkook hasn't been able to close his eyes since.
"Why are you fucking apologizing?"
Your words ring in his head as he tosses under his blanket uncomfortably, giving up before ripping it off his body a bit too aggressively, causing it to fall to the ground.
"I don't know."
Dirty fucking liar, his subconscious snickers.
Of course he knew. He's always fucking known. It's subconscious; the way he can't stop the apology from spewing from his lips every time.
He wants you to be upset. He wants you to get angry at him for sleeping with other girls. He wants you to ask him not to go.
But you don't. You never do. If anything, you encourage it. And there he is, apologizing like a fucking idiot for something that you don't even care about. Every time he sees that disinterested look in your eyes, it feels like a sour punch to the gut.
Jungkook's mind races as he tries to figure out why he keeps doing this to himself. Why he keeps hoping for a reaction that never comes. He thinks about the way you hugged him earlier, the fleeting moment of closeness before you walked away without a second thought. You're so good at that.
He rolls onto his side, trying for the nth time to close his eyes, the sounds of your muffled laughter and Mingyu's low murmurs mocking him through the thin walls.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, the frustration gnawing at him, a constant reminder of what he can't have. He wants to move on, to stop letting you have this power over him. He laughs at the thought.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
Two days later, you're sitting in your afternoon Linguistics class, sandwiched between Jimin and Aerum. Why Jimin didn’t take the spot in the middle if he was going to let her sit near you guys, you’re un-fucking-sure.
Aerum isn't part of your inner circle, but she likes hanging around. You know her type—fake and a gossip. She attempts to make small talk with you throughout the class, but your answers are curt and disinterested.
"—even surprised? As if Jeongguk hasn't slept his way through half the campus already." Aerum giggles, twirling a strand of her hair. That gets your attention.
You don't even look up from your notebook, continuing to jot down what the professor says. "Don't talk about him like that," you say, your tone flat, causing Aerum to falter for a second.
She nervously chuckles, "It's not a secret he gets around, Y/N. You know that..."
Unamused, you finish off your notes, letting her brew for a second, before finally lifting your gaze. You lean in a little, and Aerum shuffles closer as if you were about to let her in on some juicy tea.
"I don't care if he took your mother over the kitchen counter and made you watch." Aerum's lips part at your words, leaning back slightly in shock. "Don't talk about him like that. Matter of fact, don't talk about him at all."
She malfunctions for a second before nodding dazedly, quickly turning to face the front of the class for the first time today. You return to your notebook uninterestedly as Jimin lets out a loud snort, leaning over to hide his face in your shoulder.
The class continues without further interruptions, and when the professor finally wraps it up, you begin putting your things away. Jimin holds your bag for you like he always does as you make your way out of the classroom. Aerum follows behind like a kicked puppy.
With no more classes for the day, you and Jimin had planned to go to the campus café for a study date. Much to your dismay, Jimin had invited Aerum when she overheard you talking about it at the beginning of Linguistics. Jimin is kind to everyone, a trait of his that you somewhat admire, but in this case, it just made you want to slam his laptop shut over his fingers.
Once you reach the café, you find an empty table at the back while Jimin goes to the counter to order your usual drinks, Aerum trailing behind him quietly.
As you set your things down, you notice your phone at the top of your bag. You pick it up, deciding to text Jungkook because you haven't seen him in a couple of days, and you miss him. Maybe he can come study.
It's as if the universe heard your thoughts because suddenly, you feel a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You smile when his familiar cologne reaches your nose and quickly spin around to pull him down into a proper hug.
"I was literally just about to text you," you tell him as he snuggles into your neck.
"You studying?" he murmurs into your skin, his warm breath tickling you slightly.
"Mhm, with Jiminie and Aerum," you reply, leaning back slightly. He scrunches his nose in protest when you pull away but lets you go.
"Cool, I could use a break," he says, his eyes twinkling as he takes a seat next to you, casually slinging his arm over the back of your chair.
"Where were you heading?" you ask as you both settle down, and he helps you spread out your supplies.
"Just dropping some gear off to coach on campus. Saw you through the window," his gaze flickers over your outfit before he smiles softly. "You look pretty."
You smile cutely at the compliment, and his heart skips a beat.
Jungkook suppresses a sigh. You look so sweet in your white cashmere sweater and creamy plaid Burberry skirt, but the way your body fills it out is anything but. Not a single hair out of place, you look sinfully and irrevocably perfect.
Jimin returns with the drinks and almost gets a fright from the lacrosse captain. "Hey, Kook," he says with a grin, handing you your iced coffee.
Aerum, holding her drink, looks slightly flustered but tries to mask it with a smile. "Hi, Jungkook," she says, her voice a little too sweet.
Jungkook nods at her politely before turning his attention back to you. "What subject?" He leans over to grab your textbook, and before you can answer, Aerum takes a seat and chimes in.
"Linguistics," she smiles, and Jungkook nods while flipping through the textbook.
You're logging into Jimin's laptop while he licks the whipped cream from the top of his frappe like a cat. You snort at the blonde before opening the shared doc that he and you have. You're begin to scroll through the pages, trying to find where you left off last time, but the sound of Aerum's continuous pestering distracts you.
"—again tonight or something?" You only catch the end of her sentence, but by the flirty tone she's only just now using, you assume she's speaking to Jungkook.
"Aish, Aerum…" Jungkook laughs awkwardly, flicking through the pages of your textbook as if it would somehow teleport him away from the situation.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you don't do round 2's. Make an exception? For me?" She pouts cutely, and even Jimin can't resist the urge to cringe into his cup.
Jungkook looks over at you for a moment; whether it's for help or a reaction, he doesn't know, but he's not surprised when you don't even look up from the laptop. Just continuing to scroll through your document.
He can't even stop the words from coming out before he says them, "Yeah, okay."
Jimin's brows furrow in surprise. You keep scrolling.
"Yeah?" Aerum can't hide the surprise in her own voice, giddy nonetheless.
"Yeah." He nods at her, looking down at your textbook, wishing it would telepathically lift up and knock him out cold.
An hour flies by, during which you and Jimin make significant progress on the paper, having already completed a quarter of it.
Aerum, however, proves to be an absolute dead weight, giving weak half-assed responses whenever Jimin tries to involve her in the research. Her focus is solely on flirting with Jungkook.
If she even thinks of attempting to slip her greasy little name on this project once you and Jimin are done, you'll take great satisfaction in bringing her back down to reality.
You finish typing a sentence on Jimin's laptop before locking it and giving him a look. He understands immediately and stands up to pack his things wordlessly.
You're beyond irritated—not because Jungkook and Aerum are practically on the verge of fucking right on top of the café table, but because they're doing it while you're trying to work. Frustrated and disgusted, you uncharacteristically bite your tongue and sling your bag over your shoulder.
"You're leaving?" Jungkook's head snaps to you the moment he notices you standing up, and he follows suit, Aerum tagging along behind him.
"Yep," you nod, grabbing Jimin's arm when he extends it to you and heading for the café exit.
"Are you—shit," Jungkook stutters, jogging slightly to catch up to you, Aerum trailing behind him. "Are you guys doing anything tonight?"
You almost roll your fucking eyes, but Jimin responds with a neutral expression, "Yeah, Kook… the DSP gather? We planned it last week?"
"Fuck," Jungkook coughs out, "Yeah, no, I remember."
You continue walking back towards the main campus where Jimin's car is parked, with Jungkook and Aerum not far behind. When you reach Jimin's Audi, you detach from his arm and head for the passenger seat, Jungkook meeting you at the door.
"Did you still want me to pick you up?" he asks softly, watching you adjust your bag strap over your shoulder in boredom while you wait for Jimin to unlock the car.
“No, that’s okay, Guk. I'll come over with Minji. She's on a drinking cleanse after the Feb blackout, so she can drive," you smile, leaning up to give him a quick goodbye hug.
He leans into it, but you don't let him linger, pulling away as soon as you hear the sound of the car unlocking. You go to open the door and climb in, but he gently puts his hand against it to stop you.
"Are you okay? Can you talk to me, please?" he lowers his voice so no one can hear.
Jimin takes the hint and awkwardly gets into the car, telling Aerum to hop in the back and he'll drop her home. She looks at Jungkook for a long moment before reluctantly getting in.
Jungkook's big, worried, boba eyes make you want to both scoff and run your hand over his face until they ease up.
"What do you mean, Gukkie? Just don't want you to go out of your way. You live there, so there's no point in you driving to get me."
Huh? He's picked you up for every single frat party they hold. He doesn't mind. He insists on driving you. He loves driving you! What the fuck?
Jungkook lets his hand fall from the door in resignation, and his heart clenches at the speed in which you pull the handle to open it, like you couldn't wait to get away from him. He somberly takes a step back from the car to let you get in.
You sigh when you glance back at his scrunched eyebrows and pouty lips. You place your bag on the seat and shut the door with a groan before walking back to your sulky best friend.
His response is immediate. His arms link around your waist when you lean into him, his head nestling into your neck where it belongs. Your nails lightly scratch against his polo, and he squeezes you a little tighter.
"I want to pick you up," he says softly. You run your hands down his arms, grabbing them where they link behind your waist. You give them a squeeze as you gently untangle yourself from him.
"I'm riding with Minji. I'll see you tonight, Gukkie." He watches you walk back to Jimin's car and finally get in.
Aerum's eyes are on Jungkook as Jimin pulls out of the campus parking lot. Jungkook's are on you.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
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You weren't always as unbothered as you are today at the age of 21.
Maybe it was maturing, maybe it was the pilates sessions you take twice a week, or maybe it was because a particular situation made you vow to yourself you'd never go through that pain again. Well, whatever it was that made you so emotionally detached, you're grateful for it. You're young, gorgeous, and you have a fruitful and prosperous life on the horizon.
Fun is good. Feelings are not.
You shake your head to get yourself out of your thoughts—the thoughts you don't know why are suddenly floating around in your messy little brain—and yell out to your roommate for a favor.
Park Minji and you share a two-bedroom penthouse on the top floor of Kim Marriott, the Seodaemun-gu branch of your parents' luxury 5-star hotel chain.
Taehyung was supposed to move in with you during your first year, but when he was appointed Frat President, he chose to stay on-site at Delta Sigma Phi. What a humble boy… you couldn't think of anything worse.
He dragged Jungkook along with him, and you dragged Minji along with you, so everything worked out great. Minji is a lot tidier than your brother, anyway.
You're rummaging through your closet for the shoes you swore you had stored there after your last shopping trip when Minji waltzes into your room, holding the box you've been hunting for.
"These ones, right? They were on the kitchen counter, among all your other unopened packages..." She rolls her eyes teasingly.
"Oh yes! Fuck, I love you," you cry, walking up to the blonde and pulling the heels from the box she holds open for you.
"They're so pretty," she compliments before closing the box and tossing it in the living room to throw away later. She looks back at you as you head to your full-length mirror, slipping on the shoes.
"Jesus, Y/N." Minji groans, and you hum in question, eyeing her through the mirror.
"You look so good, what the fuck..." she whines, walking closer to you and standing side by side in the mirror to check on her outfit as well.
The white bodycon mini-dress hugs your body nicely, its low neckline no match for your bigger-than-average tits as the fabric clings to them for dear life. The white-gold Cartier necklace Jungkook gifted you rests prettily on your chest, just like it always has ever since the night he clasped it around your neck.
2 years prior—circa. your 19th birthday
"Get fucked, Jeongguk." The words rip from your throat, venomous and sharp as they slap your best friend's face into a furrowed, exasperated expression.
You yank the jacket tighter around your shoulders as the cold night air whips at your skin, storming down the sidewalk. The urge to rip the jacket—his jacket—off your body is strong, but it's so fucking cold. You may be petty and possibly overreacting a little right now... but you're not stupid.
Jungkook's heavy footsteps trail after you, his calls of your name only pushing you to walk faster. He catches up in no time, your hurried steps no match for his long strides. He tries to gently grab your arm, but you shrug off his touch angrily, spinning around to glare at him. You're about to tell him to fuck off again when he speaks first.
"Come back inside. It's like a fucking blizzard out here; you're going to freeze to death," he says evenly, though frustration laces his words.
"Oh, please," you laugh humorlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "As if you give a shit if I freeze."
"Don't fucking say—"
"I'm going home. You can tell everyone I'm sick and had to leave. Or don't, I don't fucking care." You turn away and start walking again, his footsteps immediately following.
"You're walking home?" You ignore his question, causing him to huff and run a hand through his hair. "Let me drive you home, please."
You ignore him again, knowing that if there's something Jungkook can't stand more than you yelling at him, it's you not speaking to him.
"Stop doing this. It's your birthday; don't let it end like this—"
"Yes, Jeongguk, it's my birthday," you seethe, whipping back around. "And you brought a random chick none of us even know to my birthday dinner. And you didn't even bother to get me a gift. On. My fucking. Birthday."
"Y/N—"
"Limited edition PlayStation, imported Swedish lacrosse stick, custom painted iPad from your favorite local fucking artist," you list the gifts you've gotten him for his birthday over the years angrily. Jungkook shakes his head, trying to step closer to you, but you hold up your hand to keep the distance.
"Do you even know how much effort I put into the things I get and do for you? And for you to sit there with that... that stupid fucking look on your—God, Jeongguk!" Your voice is on the cusp of being a whine, but you don't care. "Oh, but I'm sure you spent a decent chunk of Daddy's money on Winnie tonight, huh?" You don't care that the Daddy's money statement is also very applicable to you… you're pissed.
Jungkook's jaw clenches at your words, and he steps forward, slipping his hand into the pocket of the jacket you're wearing. Before you can snap at him again, he pulls out a small velvet box and holds it out to you.
"What is that?" you demand, your voice still trembling with annoyance.
"Your gift," he says softly, opening the box to reveal a white-gold Cartier diamond necklace. "I was planning to give it to you when we were in private."
You stare at the necklace, your anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise. The diamonds of the pendant sparkle under the streetlights, and you almost let out a moan. Diamonds are your weakness.
"You motherfucker," you groan under your breath, glaring at the necklace in hopes it will dissipate into thin air so you can continue being annoyed at him.
Jungkook steps closer, his voice a whisper. "Everyone was coming with their partners, Y/N. I couldn't come alone."
You sigh, knowing that. Your comment was a cheap shot, considering Jungkook doesn't hang with a girl more than once, so it would be impossible for him to bring someone you already knew. But Winnie was getting on your last nerve, and you saw an opportunity to sneak in a jab, so you took it.
Not only was his date clearing glass after glass of the expensive wine your friends had ordered as if it were water, but she was also not shy about ordering the priciest dishes on the menu. Judging by her tiny red Zara mini-dress, you highly doubt she'll be reaching for her purse at the end of the night.
Your gaze is still locked on the necklace as you take a moment to think. Jungkook hasn't moved either, continuing to hold the box open for you while he scans your face, trying to gauge your reaction.
"It's, um, engraved and shit," he mumbles, his hand not holding the box lifting to run over his jaw nervously. "And I got a chain one… for me too."
Your eyes snap to his, and he swears his heart stops beating. God, you think it's stupid. You hate it. That's okay. He'll just wait until you turn around so he can sprint to the nearest homeless guy and give him the stupid neckl—
"Like matching?" Your eyes soften, and he slowly feels the blood flooding into his heart.
"Yeah, only if you like, want to," he shrugs cutely, and you can't stop the grin from spreading across your lips.
You're close enough to slide your arms around his torso but still not near enough for Jungkook as he tugs you closer, melting into the hug. "Thank you, Gukkie. I love it," you murmur into his chest, and he feels his muscles relax at you finally using his nickname again.
You lift your head from his black fitted Givenchy dress shirt, which smells a little too good, to look up at him. "But why did you say you didn't have anything when everyone gave me their gifts?"
He looks down at the slight pout on your lips, his fingers twitching with the urge to wipe it off your mouth. Instead, he flicks the box closed with a thumb and holds it out to you. "Don't think Jaehyun would've been too thrilled with me giving you this," he chuckles. "The dude hates me."
You frown up at him, about to chime in and say that isn't true, but his lips tug into a smirk as if to say he couldn't care less about what your boyfriend thought of him. And honestly, if he were Jaehyun, he'd hate him too.
Jungkook had the necklaces made a little over two months ago, and you and Jaehyun have only been official for one. So, Jungkook's intentions behind the gift weren't malicious, he swears…
If you just so happen to wear the necklace and your boyfriend notices his matching one, which then causes a rift in your relationship, resulting in the two of you breaking up… well, that would just be a nice little coincidence.
"Jae knows you and I are close," you explain with a crease in your brow that he wants to massage until it goes away. "I made it very clear to him when he wanted to get serious, and he understood."
Jungkook nods along to your words even if he doesn't fully believe them. Either Jaehyun is a really good and secure guy, or he's full of grade-A horse shit. If you were his and another dude tried to come along and buy you an eleven-thousand-dollar necklace? Fuck, he'd knock the guy out cold.
You untangle yourself from your best friend and lift the lid of the velvet box still in his grasp. You coo at the pretty diamonds before turning to face away from Jungkook.
You gather your hair before swiping it over your shoulder and letting his jacket fall slightly to bare your neck. Jungkook reacts immediately, picking up the necklace before shoving the box in his pocket. His cold fingers brush against you as he carefully fastens the jewelry around your neck.
When he pulls away, you let your hair fall back into place and turn around to face him again. Your smile is soft, eyes twinkling as you look down at the necklace. "It's so pretty, Gukkie. I love it."
You're so pretty. I love you, he thinks.
With a sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in one of the most casual party outfits you've worn in a while—well, to your standards, at least. For some reason, you just don't feel entirely up for it tonight. Something feels off in your stomach. Or your head. You're not sure. You're probably just getting sick or something.
After slipping into the heels, you stand up straight and smush a kiss on the girl's cheek, smiling at the mark your lip gloss leaves on her face. "Ya, I just did my makeup," she gasps, leaning closer to your mirror to dab off the glossy residue.
You pat her bum gently. "You look gorgeous, Min. Gonna have Joon in tears tonight."
"If he even looks at me," she rolls her eyes, adjusting the strap of her Miu Miu dress in the mirror.
"You haven't talked to him yet?" You ask as you apply your perfume, and she turns to look at you with guilty eyes.
"No," she sighs, "I will tonight."
"Good," you smile, resting the perfume bottle back on your dresser before grabbing your phone and holding your hand out to her.
She interlocks her fingers with yours as you both leave the suite, the sinking feeling in your stomach never fading.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
Welp, there goes your ride home.
You watch in amusement as your roommate throws back her fourth jello shot of the night, washing it down with a gulp of beer.
You don't blame Minji for breaking her sobriety, especially after the first thing you both saw upon walking through the doors of Delta Sigma Phi was Namjoon leaning against the foyer wall with another girl in his arms. While they weren't official official, Minji loves really hard. And you think Namjoon knew that.
Needless to say, Minji instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the kitchen, where mountains of various alcohol bottles covered the counter.
Minji's not an alcoholic by any means, but she, just like her twin brother, are quick to take it down and even quicker to bring it back up.
A few months ago, during the Autumn fraternity vs. sorority fundraiser, she got so drunk that she blacked out going down the soapy slip-and-slide.
You and Jungkook—well, mostly Jungkook—carried her all the way to his car. Since he was a sober monitor for Delta Sigma Phi, he drove you both home. He ended up staying at your place for the rest of the night while you slowly sipped on strawberry soju and watched Netflix, checking on Minji every so often.
She hasn't had a drink since that night, so her tolerance is probably super low. But that doesn't stop her from handing you a raspberry jello shot before grabbing another from the table and sucking it down like someone might take it from her.
You giggle, gently wiping away the pink droplet of liquid trailing down the corner of her lip with your thumb. She offers you a dazed smile, her eyes hooded, the effects of the alcohol clearly weaving through her system.
"You okay, Min?"
She beams back at you, a little spark lighting up her glossy eyes, "Mhm. Just wanna have fun tonight."
"Okay," you respond softly, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.
Her head suddenly snaps to the living room. "Oooh, they're playing spin the bottle! Let's go playyy!" Minji gasps, tapping your arm excitedly.
You glance at the game that caught her attention and scan the players. There are a few of your friends, mixed with other people from school whose names you couldn't remember if someone held a gun to your head.
You pat Minji's hand, which was still tapping your arm, telling her to go play and stay close to Yoongi and Hobi. She nods, rushing over to the game with a big smile and plopping down between your friends.
You look down at the jello shot you're still yet to ingest and put it back on the table. Grabbing a solo cup, you pour some cranberry juice into it, glancing at the types of vodkas on display. Your nose scrunches at the cheap brands, your manicured nail tapping the side of the cup in thought before you remember something.
Cup in hand, you make your way to the cupboard below the kitchen sink and pull it open, smiling in triumph as you spot the object of your desire at the back of the cabinet. Bending down, you reach for the bottle quickly before anyone notices you.
"That's off limits."
The familiar smell of his cologne floods your senses before you process his words. You straighten up with a small smile, resting your cup on the counter and turning to face the boy with the pricey bottle of vodka in your hands.
"Even to me?" Your lips pull into a knowing pout, and Jungkook has to force his gaze away from them. Instead, his eyes trail over your outfit, which, in hindsight, was an even dumber idea.
His breath hitches in his fucking throat at the sight of your dress, doing nothing to support your boobs that threaten to spill from the pretty little white fabric. The knot in the noose, though, is the necklace he gifted you on your nineteenth birthday, resting innocently between the valley of your anything-but-innocent tits.
He shakes his head, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly as he steps closer to you. You fiddle with the bottle cap while he closes the distance, giving you a moment to drink in how effortlessly his arms fill out his white box-tee.
"No," he says softly, almost laughing at the thought of ever denying you something. "Not you." He takes his bottle of Belvedere from your grasp and unscrews the cap.
You rest against the kitchen sink as your best friend, now less than an inch from your body, reaches around you to grab your cup from the counter. He doesn't say anything as he pours the vodka into the cup, using his familiarity with your favorite drink to know when to stop. Your finger lightly traces over the tattoos spilling from his right sleeve absentmindedly, and he should tell you to stop, or he might drop the cup. But he doesn't.
Once he deems there's enough alcohol in the mix, he lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip. You wait patiently, letting him do his little lip purse before splashing a bit more vodka into the cup and holding it out to you. You take it with a grateful smile, bringing the drink to your lips to taste it as he leans over to get a solo cup of his own. You almost groan when the vodka cranberry hits your tongue. Obviously, it's perfect. He’s annoying like that.
Once Jungkook finishes mixing his drink, he takes a mouthful before returning to you. He catches the way your gaze is fixed on the ground, distraction clouding your eyes, cup resting against your lips as you get lost in your head.
You snap out of it almost instantly when he gets closer to you, putting the cup down next to you so you can slink your arms around his neck when he leans down. But before he allows the feeling of you against his body to make him forget every thought inside his brain, he speaks.
"What's wrong?" he murmurs into the skin of your neck, blindly putting his cup on the counter behind you so he can slip his hands around your waist.
You're quiet for a moment, and if it wasn't for the slight stutter in your fingers playing with the clasp of his Cartier chain, he would think you didn't hear him. He doesn't repeat his question, though, knowing you will answer him in your own time. And even if you don't, that's okay too. But he just won't leave your side the entire night if you're feeling vulnerable.
Yeah, nice excuse for not wanting to leave her alone; his subconscious laughs viciously at him. Jungkook ignores it by burying his face into your neck further.
Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck while you take a deep breath, the calming scent of him grounding you. "I don't know," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
He tightens his hold on you, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. "Are you getting sick?"
"Yeah, probably. I've just had this weird feel—"
"Kookie, there you are! I thought you got lost getting my drink—oh, hi, Y/N!"
Jungkook stiffens before he lifts himself from you slightly at the sound of Aerum's voice.
You untangle your hand from his hair, poking your head around the side of his large frame to look at the girl strutting into the kitchen. She's pretty, you think as you give her outfit a once-over. If only she wasn't such an insufferable phony, maybe you'd be a little warmer towards her. Maybe.
"Hey, Aerum," you greet uninterestedly, leaning away from Jungkook and ignoring the way he tries to keep you near him.
Lost in his own house? You internally roll your eyes. Why even bother saying something so stupid—
"Is it this one?" she smiles once she reaches you both, grabbing your cup from the counter and taking a sip. "Oh wow, Kookie, it's so good! Is it vodka? Shit, what brand is this?" Aerum squeaks as she takes another sip of your drink.
Jungkook's lips part as he's about to say something about the drink, but you reply with a bored expression, "Belvedere."
Aerum lets out a confused hum as you name the $300 bottle of alcohol. "Huh. I've never heard of it."
You nod, grabbing a bottle of cheap beer as you brush past her to leave the kitchen. "Exactly."
Jungkook and Aerum's hushed conversation fades into the background as you move further away. You reach the living room, where Minji is giggling between Hobi and Yoongi. She grins widely when she sees you enter the room. "Jagi! Come and play!"
You laugh at your roommate, who now has two more empty Jello shot cups and a bottle of cider beside her, which explains the affectionate nickname.
Once you reach the circle, Yoongi and Hobi lean up to give you a hug in greeting before you smush a kiss on Minji's forehead. "Maybe later, jagi. Have you seen our brothers?”
“Mhm! They went outside for a smoke!” She replies distractedly as she’s staring intently at the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle.
You run a hand gently over her hair before turning to Yoongi. Since he’s sober D for his boyfriend tonight, you ask if he can keep an eye on her while they finish their game and if she needs to go home or gets too much to handle, to come and tell you.
Yoongi nods at you with a smile, and you return it before spotting a familiar head of black hair peeking over the back of the couch on the other side of the room.
Approaching the couch quietly, you softly put your beer on the ground before leaning over and covering his eyes with your hands. Mingyu flinches at the unexpected contact, his phone falling from his hands to his lap, but then relaxes as if something clicks.
His warm hands come up to yours, removing them from his eyes before he turns to you with a stunned smile. He takes you in for a second before shaking his head and leaning up on the couch.
You're about to give him a hug but he suddenly wraps his arms around your body, easily pulling you over the couch and laying you down beneath him. You squeal loudly in surprise before it's replaced by soft giggles as Mingyu attacks your neck with kisses, peppering them over every inch of skin he can find.
You draw a breath when there's a slight break in his assault and gesture to your heels digging uncomfortably into the couch. He leans back immediately and pulls them off your feet, placing them on the coffee table with haste that makes you laugh.
Turning back, he lowers his frame to you, your legs subconsciously separating to let him press closer, and he resumes his work on your neck. His kisses move lower, and you let out a sigh at the feeling before he reaches the exposed skin of side-boob peeking from your dress. You let out a quick gasp, grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him up to your face.
He grins at you cheekily, knowing he wouldn't get far but can't find it in himself to regret the action. "Was wondering when you'd get here," he says softly, his voice filled with affection. Your pouty fucking lips covered in that pretty fucking lip gloss distracts him for a moment, and he breathes a dazed sigh, leaning down to rest his face on your chest.
You blame it on the alcohol when the sick feeling in your stomach suddenly returns at the touch of Mingyu's skin on yours.
You blame it on the alcohol when all you can think about as you run your fingers through Mingyu's hair is how it's not as soft as Jungkook's.
You blame it on the alcohol when you let Mingyu snuggle closer into your neck in hopes that you'll feel the same warm sensation as when Jungkook does it.
The nausea, the thoughts of your best friend while you have a gorgeous man on top of you, the pounding in your head as his lips get closer and closer to your necklace. You blame all of it on the alcohol.
The one single sip of fucking alcohol you've consumed tonight.
"Can you pass me my beer, please?" You choke out as his lips are a millimeter away from reaching the skin where your necklace sits.
Mingyu pulls back with a smile, and you almost want to frown at the sweet boy. He deserves so much better. "It's just on the ground over there," you point to the back of the couch, and he nods, leaning over and grabbing your drink.
You release a heavy breath while you play with the hem of his dress shirt when something catches your attention from the corner of your eye. Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric.
There, leaning with his back against the living room wall, is your best friend with Aerum's lips attached to his neck like a blowfish. Jungkook's brows are furrowed, most likely in pleasure, and his eyes are squeezed shut.
Another wave of the sick feeling washes over you, and you almost let out a frustrated grunt. What the actual fuck is going on with you?
Mingyu leans back on the couch, now with your beer in his hand. Before he can open the cap for you, you snatch it from his hand and toss it to the carpet carelessly. He looks at you curiously, about to ask you what's wrong, but you sit up and swing your leg over his thigh, effectively lodging the words in his throat.
His brows shoot up in surprise before he catches on, his hands finding your waist when you don't waste time pressing your lips to his. Mingyu groans into your mouth when you suckle on his tongue lightly, starting to move against him. Your dress begins to ride up with your movements and deepen the kiss while simultaneously grinding harder into his lap. You can feel him getting harder through the fabric of his jeans, and you zone in on it.
Squeezing your eyes closed tighter to focus, you drag yourself over his covered cock, letting the zipper of his pants graze against your panties. Mingyu detaches from your lips at the sensation, his head throwing back onto the couch as his breathing picks up.
Your hands rest against his chest as you swivel your hips quicker, trying everything you can to spark something in you. Mingyu chokes out a strained fuck when you find the outline of his shaft and let the lips of your covered pussy drag along it.
Nothing. You feel nothing. What the fucking fuck.
Mingyu, on the other hand, is losing himself. His head is still thrown back in pleasure, and you take the opportunity to lean forward and latch your lips to his neck. Your teeth nibble at the skin below his jaw, and he shivers at the action, his hands losing grip on your waist and falling to the swell of your ass. Your movements still haven't relented, grinding against him like you're the only two in the room, and Mingyu doesn't want to admit just how fucking close he is.
He's about to suggest that you guys take it to his room when he feels one of your hands trail down from his chest. His head lifts up to see what you're going to do next, and god, he wishes he didn't, because when you cover the hand of his that's loosely resting on your left asscheek and squeeze? He almost cums in his fucking pants like a teenage boy that just discovered the wonders of third base.
Mingyu does as you wish, grabbing a greedy handful of the flesh with his left hand and uses his right to slide up the back of your neck, returning your mouth to his. You fall into the kiss willingly, letting him lick into your mouth. Letting him take whatever he wants. Mingyu has always been a good kisser. Not even a week ago, he had you dripping from a 10-minute make-out session on his bed. But right now, something inside you tells you that even if you went at it for an hour, it still wouldn't be enough.
You push the sadistic thoughts from your brain and tangle your hands in his hair, nodding against his lips when his hand on your neck drops to your other asscheek and squeezes tightly.
Yes, you think. Touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere. Something is bound to—
"What the fuck?"
Your lips immediately detach from Mingyu's at the sound of the familiar voice booming behind you. You adjust the front of your clothes, which have twisted out of place, and quickly climb off Mingyu's lap. Pulling down the hem of the dress that also rode up a few minutes ago, you blink guiltily at the man staring at you with a disturbed look.
"On my couch? That's disgusting. Take it upstairs or take it to your place, Y/N." Taehyung grits, shaking his head as if it would somehow rid the image of you mounting his frat-mate from his memory.
"Sorry, Tae," you reply to your brother with a purse of your lips before getting over it and looking around for your phone that fell from the pocket of your cover-up.
Mingyu is speechless, gawking at his frat president in horror, not knowing what to say or do. He watches as you finally find the phone wedged between the couch cushions before you lean back onto his chest and scroll through your notifications, un-fucking-concerned.
Mingyu chokes on air, gently lifting you off him and sitting you back up on the seat properly. You give him a confused look, and he returns your gaze with a panicked expression, glancing between you and your brother, who is still standing there glaring at him.
You roll your eyes, lifting Mingyu's arm and throwing it over your shoulder, returning to your previous position. "Don't take him seriously, Gyu. I can't even recall how many times I've accidentally walked in on him and my own friends from high school. And they were doing a lot more than dry humping."
The fact that you aren't bothered helps Mingyu to calm down a bit, but he's still on edge with your brother staring him down.
You glance up at Mingyu when his chest remains stiff beneath your head, and you sigh before turning to your brother. "Tae, you're scaring him. We won't do anything else on your couch, okay? Now shoo, please." You wave him off with your hand.
Your brother just rolls his eyes, looking a little too much like you for your liking, before he nods and says he'll return to patrol the room in 30 minutes.
You watch Taehyung disappear behind the door frame as he heads into another room, and you turn to Mingyu with a teasing grin. "30 minutes? We could be done twice in that time…"
His eyes widen, and he gives another pathetic attempt at suggesting you go upstairs, but when you press your lips to his, the words fizzle out on his tongue as you entwine it with your own.
Jungkook is fucking fuming.
He's absolutely clocked out of the make-out session with Aerum, and she can probably tell that his mind is elsewhere, but he can't bring himself to care, and she makes no move to pull away either.
He feels her getting angsty, desperately wanting to escalate the situation from the way she's pressing harder against him, but Jungkook keeps the pace steady.
He needs to stay in the living room to keep an eye on you because you're obviously not in the right state of mind right now. You're not drunk; he knows what you look like when you've been drinking, and you're basically stone-cold fucking sober. But yet, there you are, one layer away from riding his housemate's cock on his very own fucking couch.
Jungkook would have intervened a long time ago, had he not seen with his own eyes that you were the one initiating every part of the act.
With every swivel of your hips, Jungkook’s heart pounded furiously against his chest. It clenched with every firm squeeze Mingyu placed on your ass, and it shattered completely as you nuzzled into Mingyu’s neck, kissing and nipping at it, just like you did to him in his dreams most nights.
He can’t tear his gaze away. He’s tried—oh, how he’s fucking tried.
He attempted to focus on the pretty girl currently whimpering into his mouth, begging him to touch her, to take her right there in the middle of the room if he so desired. But he couldn’t. His eyes were uncontrollably drawn back to you, to the way Mingyu’s hips lifted to meet yours, each movement a sharp twist to the knife lodged in his pathetic heart.
"Shit," Mingyu groans when the curve of his cock straining against his jeans meets your covered core. "We needa go upstairs, or I'm gonna take you right here on the couch, Y/N."
Your laugh comes out breathy from the frantic movements of your hips as you ignore him, and you lean up so his face can nuzzle between your tits. Your boobs are very sensitive, and that usually does the trick to turn you on.
Why. Isn't. It. Turning. You. On.
You let out a frustrated groan that Mingyu mistakes as a moan of pleasure as he leaves wet kisses against the exposed skin of your tits before he reaches the necklace that's wedged between them. "Fuck, I love this. It's so pretty but looks so dirty on you."
Your skin suddenly fires up at his words, and you feel your hips stutter slightly. "Yeah?" you question in a rush, grinding harder against him to chase the feeling.
"Mhm," he nods, brushing his nose over the pendant.
"Bite it."
He looks up at you, his gaze locking with yours filled with a hunger that hadn't been present all night.
"Bite it?" he repeats, his voice a mix of confusion and intrigue, hips meeting yours halfway as your movements become sloppier, more desperate.
Your head tilts as you nod desperately, "Please bite it."
Mingyu's eyes flicker down to your chest, and he leans in, his lips grazing the skin near your necklace. Your breath catches as he nears the pendant with its two little conjoined rings. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the whine that threatens to escape.
He plants a lingering kiss on the surrounding flesh before finally catching the pendant between his teeth. You can't hold back the loud moan that escapes your lips—
It happens in the blink of an eye.
You tumble onto the couch cushions as Mingyu is abruptly yanked away and thrown to the living room floor.
You watch in shock as Jungkook pounces on him instantly, Mingyu barely having a moment to react before Jungkook's fist comes crashing down. It connects with Mingyu's jaw with a sickening crunch that reverberates through the room, drawing the attention of a few partygoers.
Mingyu attempts a recovery, throwing a jab that snaps Jungkook's head to the side, but Jungkook quickly regains his focus. He reels his fist back and hammers another brutal punch into Mingyu's face, then another, then another, then another.
Jungkook doesn't know how many punches he's thrown, or how long he's been on top of his housemate, or whose arms grab him from behind to pull him off Mingyu.
His breathing comes in ragged gasps, his knuckles sting with a throbbing pain, and a fierce rage burns through his veins, consuming him entirely. Adrenaline surges through him as he watches Yoongi and Hobi lift a bloodied, struggling Mingyu off the ground.
"What the fuck, Kook?" Taehyung's voice snaps him out of his daze as he and Jimin drag him to his feet.
You remain frozen on the couch, not shifting an inch. Your gaze is fixed on Mingyu as a cluster of people surround him. One person carefully presses a damp rag against his bloodied face while he leans heavily against the wall, another extends a bottle of water towards his shaking hands.
From the grasp of your brother, Jungkook's eyes follow you as you rise and weave through the crowd around Mingyu.
His heart clenches as he watches the pained expression on your face, the saddest he's ever seen. He watches as you whisper something to Mingyu, who shakes his head weakly and reaches out to pull you closer. Instead, you gently grasp his hand, stroking his knuckles with your thumb as tears start to pool in your eyes.
He sees the moment you utter one final word to Mingyu before you let his hand drop softly to his side and walk away
You return to the coffee table, grabbing your shoes and phone before immediately heading for the exit. You spot Minji, who has tears flowing down her cheeks, and she breaks from Yoongi's hold before pulling you into the tightest hug she can muster.
"Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay? What the fuck was that?!" she cries into your shoulder. You almost smile, knowing her emotions always spill over when she's been drinking, but you couldn't muster one even if you tried. Gently pulling away, you dab at the tears under her eyes before turning your attention to Yoongi.
"Can you take her home, please? I'm going to catch an Uber and I feel like being alone for a bit," you half-lie. You're going to walk home, but he doesn't need to know that. He wouldn't let you walk alone at this time.
"Y/N," Yoongi sighs. He didn't miss the way you dodged her question. He wants to urge you to let him drive you home as well, but the resolve in your eyes tells him you won't budge. "Yeah, I'll make sure she gets home safe."
"Thank you," your voice cracks slightly at the end as you squeeze his hand and leave the room before he can stop you.
You can hear footsteps trailing behind you as you reach the door, and you abandon the mission of slipping into your heels, quickly slipping out the door and slamming it behind you.
The cold concrete bites at your bare feet as you hurry down the steps of the frat house, but you barely notice. The sound of the door swinging open behind you only quickens your pace.
"Please, Y/N. Wait. Please."
The tears you've held back since the moment he climbed on top of Mingyu suddenly fall without your permission, and you scoff, wiping them away furiously.
You don't say anything as you reach the path out of the university and continue your trek to your penthouse. It's dark, the sparse lights of the school providing little guidance, but you don't care. You just keep walking.
When Jungkook catches up to you and tries to take your hand, something inside you explodes. You snatch your arm away furiously, your heels and phone dropping from your hands as you turn to face him. Before you know what you're doing, you push against his chest, shoving him away from you. He barely moves and that makes you even angrier. “Fuck you, Jeongguk!” You shove him again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you."
Your voice trembles on the last words, and you can't stop the sob from wracking your body. He reacts instantly, stepping forward to pull you into his arms as you break down.
His hands cradle the back of your head as you shake against his chest, his heart clenching at the sound of your cries. "I'm so sorr—"
You pull away from him, running your sleeve over your face to wipe at the tears. "What about your future, Jeongguk? What if he presses charges? If this gets back to your parents? Affects your student record?" You shake your head in utter disbelief, your hands running through your hair in an attempt to ground yourself. "Mingyu is such a good guy, how could you even—fuck." Mingyu.
Your heart clenches at the memory of him trying to keep you close even after he had the shit beaten out of him. You brought him into this mess. That was all fucking you.
"You can't do shit like that, Jeongguk! You c-can't," you stammer, batting his hand away as your voice cracks again, "You had no right to do that."
"I know, Y/N!" His voice rises, and you see tears welling in his own eyes. "I fucking know! I know I didn't have any right to do that. And I fucking hate it!"
You're speechless, but Jungkook isn't finished, "I had no right to punch Lee Seo-jun when he gave you your first kiss, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Kang Doyun when you told me he felt you up for the first time, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Jeong Jaehyun every time I watched him have you like I wanted to have you, so I fucking didn't!"
Tears stream down your face unchecked as Jungkook's hands gently cup your face, his thumbs trembling as they try to wipe your tears away. "I had no right to punch Mingyu because he has everything I want. But I did. And I know you don't want to hear it, but I don't fucking regret—"
"I hate you."
Jungkook doesn't know what to do when he hears you say those words. He stumbles back slightly, his throat tightening, and his heart slams against his chest so hard he thinks it's about to crack through his skin.
A trembly shake of his head, "No—"
Your tears stop as abruptly as they came, your gaze hollow and resigned. "We need some space. This is unhealth—"
"No, please," the tips of his ears turn red as he chokes back a sob, "I fucked up, baby, I know. I'm gonna fix it. Let me fix it. I don't want space, I-I can't have space," his words tumble out desperately, completely unaware of the nickname that slips out. But it doesn't matter; nothing does, if you leave him.
You pull your face from his grasp and take a small step backward. The weak light posts give you just enough vision to see his bloodshot eyes and broken expression. Your hand twitches, yearning to brush his hair away from his face and wipe his tears—the tears he's crying for you.
Don’t be fucking stupid, your subconscious snarls.
Those tears aren't for you. They're for the idea of you.
If he doesn't have you, who's he going to cuddle up to at night when he's bored and doesn't have a pussy appointment to get to?
Who will pass on his Instagram handle to their classmates when they rave about his insane dick game and want to try it for themselves?
Who will drag him to mandatory family gatherings, knowing his dad would slash his trust fund for missing yet another one?
Not Kim Bora, his first kiss, a week before your own with Lee Seo-jun.
Not Park Soojin, the first girl he felt up under the shirt, three days before you let Kang Doyun do the same to you.
Not Cho Eunji, the only girl he ever took on a second date, the night that you made things official with Jeong Jaehyun.
You spent countless nights crying over a boy who saw you merely as a friend. The little sister that tagged along to playdates because her brother wasn’t allowed to have fun without her. The spoiled daughter of his father’s closest friend, who he was obligated to protect at school because she never hesitated to voice her blunt opinions, especially to those she thought sucked.
The same girl who saved the most sacred part of herself for her best friend. The girl who, without hesitation, turned down every single guy who promised they'd cherish such a precious gift. The girl who prayed to a God she didn't even believe in, hoping Jungkook would realize that the person who loved and cared for him most was right before his eyes all along.
All for that very boy to carelessly give his innocence to some random chick at a high school party, not even bothering to call her the next day.
That was the moment your perception of love shifted. That was the moment you stopped looking for what his words and touches could mean, and started seeing them for what they were. Friendly. Insincere. Meaningless.
You thought the day Jungkook confessed his feelings would be the happiest of your life. You imagined it would erase all the pain, all the tears, as if they were nothing more than a pathetic nightmare.
But you don't feel happy. You feel angry. Angry that the words you've longed to hear don't make you want to fall into his arms and never leave. Instead, they make you want to run and never come back.
So you do exactly that.
You ignore your phone and shoes lying on the pavement. You ignore your best friend's croaky shout of your name. You ignore that the stony road leading away from the University grounds only grows darker and darker the further you go. You ignore the sharp ache in your feet from the rocks beneath your bare soles. And you run.
You run faster than you ever have in your entire life. You run until your legs burn, unused to anything but your two weekly low-impact fucking pilate sessions. You run until Jungkook's yelling fades into the distance behind you.
You run until you can almost see the lights of the main street. You run until you hear his footsteps gaining on you, the stupid lacrosse captain clearing the distance twice as fast as you ever could. You run until the thumping of your heart drowns out the pain of the sticks and rubble digging into your feet.
You run until the light gets brighter. You run until the light gets closer. You run until you realize they aren't streetlights. You run until you realize it's the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. You run until you can't stop yourself quickly enough. You run until you hear the scream of your best friend behind you. You run until you don't feel the impact of the hit. You run until the world around you fades to black.
Your head hits the pavement hard, bouncing slightly.
Jungkook's arms are around you in an instant, cradling you close as he sobs, "No, no, no, baby, please."
The driver of the car, a college kid who looks just as shaken, gets out to check on you, his face pale and stricken.
"Go to the frat house and get Taehyung. Now." Jungkook barks at the boy, though his eyes never leave your face.
The kid nods frantically, dashing back towards campus, stumbling in his haste. Jungkook pays him no attention, his tears falling onto your face as he holds you tighter.
"Hold on, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over his sobs. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."
You lay limp in his embrace, your breathing shallow. His tears mix with the dirt and blood on your face as he presses his forehead against yours, his entire body shaking with sobs. He holds you tighter, rocking back and forth as he brushes the hair away from your face.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he sat there in the dark, the cold night air wrapping around you both. What was realistically no more than two minutes felt like two hours. The distant sounds of the campus were muffled, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Jungkook's tears didn't stop, his heart breaking more and more with each passing second of your silence.
"Ow, fuck." You groan weakly.
Jungkook's grip tightens as he lifts his head. "Y/N," he chokes softly, his hand supporting your head as you try to sit up. "D-Don't try to move too much. We're gonna—we're gonna get you to the hospital, okay?"
You looked at him, your eyes filled with confusion and pain. "Did I really just get hit by a fucking car?"
He shook his head with a teary laugh, his fingers gently caressing your hair. "No," he sniffled. "I managed to tackle you b-before... But you hit your head when we fell. I'm so sorry."
You nodded slowly, your hand resting on his head when he rested it on your chest, and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."
His breathing stops, and he looks at you with the most saddened expression you've ever seen. "W-why the fuck would you say that? Don't apologize. None of this is your fault," Jungkook shook his head, his tears falling anew.
"I'm sorry for saying I hate you," you said softly, your hand resting on the side of his neck as he trembled. "If anything’s going to teach me of all people a lesson, it’s a near-death experience...” You let out a pained laugh, “Would hate if that was the last thing I ever said to you.”
He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "Y/N, you don't know how much I l—"
The sound of frantic footsteps interrupts him. Taehyung's voice calls out in panic, and within moments, he’s kneeling beside you, his face a mix of fear and relief.
"Oh fuck, Y/N," he said, his voice shaking as he quickly assesses your condition. "C'mon, we need to get you to a hospital," he says through teary eyes.
With Jungkook's help, you managed to get to your feet, leaning heavily on him for support. Taehyung saw you struggling to keep your balance and quickly scooped you into his arms, jogging over to his car he left running. He gently placed you in the backseat, and Jungkook was on the other side in an instant, getting you comfortable while your brother rushed to the driver's seat.
As you drove to the hospital, Jungkook didn’t let go of your hand.
Not as he forced you to drink from the water bottle Taehyung passed back to you. Not as he leaned your head on his chest, gently inspecting your scalp for any severe cuts or bleeding. Not as you grunted at him when he jiggled you slightly every time you closed your eyes for a second too long, worried that you were losing consciousness.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
"You've got a mild concussion," Dr. Choi said with a reassuring smile, her voice calm and professional. "You were fortunate. Your head hit the ground hard, but thankfully, there are no signs of severe trauma or bleeding."
Beside you, Jungkook's grip on your hand tightened. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his gaze fixed anxiously on the doctor. "So, she's going to be okay?"
In the cushioned armchair next to your hospital bed, your brother shifted slightly in his sleep. You reached over to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, careful not to wake him.
Lately, his roles as frat president, lacrosse captain, and his involvement in the family business had worn him thin. The exhaustion had overwhelmed him, and he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he settled into the chair. This really is the last thing he needs to be doing, and so with a final look of guilt, you let your brother rest and turned back to Dr. Choi.
Dr. Choi responded to Jungkook with a nod. "Yes, she'll be fine," she assured him. "Concussions can cause symptoms like dizziness, headache, nausea, and fatigue. She might feel drowsy and out of sorts for a few days, but with rest and avoiding any strenuous activities, she should recover fully within a week."
You blinked, your head still throbbing but feeling a bit more relieved. "So, I can go home?"
"Yes," the doctor confirmed, writing some notes on your chart. "I'm going to release you shortly. Make sure you rest, avoid any physical exertion, and stay hydrated. If you experience any worsening symptoms—like severe headache, vomiting, or confusion—come back immediately, okay?"
Jungkook gave the doctor a firm nod. "We will."
Dr. Choi smiled at him, a soft expression on her face. "Good. And make sure she avoids screens for a bit—no phones, no computers, no TV. Just rest."
You groan while Jungkook just signals his understanding.
As the doctor turned to leave the room and finalize your discharge papers, she glanced back with a knowing smile. "And maybe a break from the drama for a little while too?"
Jungkook's head hung low as he continued to gently caress the back of your hand with his thumb.
"No more boys and no more running into traffic, got it. Thanks, doc." You nodded at the middle-aged woman, who gave you one last amused look before leaving the room.
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That was six days ago.
The throbbing ache and, more importantly, the big ugly bump that was once on your forehead have now almost completely faded. If it hadn't, and you were stuck with a permanent scar on your face, you would've hunted down the kid who nearly hit you with his car and told him to finish the job.
Speaking of that kid, he tried to reach out to you quite a few times since you've been absent from classes. He couldn't get in direct contact with you since Jungkook had confiscated all of your devices, but he was persistent. He bugged almost every person he knew to be a close friend of yours until finally, on the second to last day of your 'quarantine', being the chronic people-pleaser that he is, Jimin cracked and brought him to your penthouse.
You were lounging on the sofa, your head resting in Jungkook’s lap as he read aloud to you, when Jimin ushered him in. You felt Jungkook stiffen instantly, and it took your sitting up and pressing down on his thigh to keep him from lunging at the poor boy.
His name is Lee Yongbok, an exchange student from Australia. He's a freshman, 19 years old, and his Korean dialect is fucking adorable.
Yongbok’s eyes were brimming with tears when he saw you, apologies tumbling from his lips for what felt like an eternity before you gently cut him off.
You first asked him if he was crying at your appearance and he just shook his head with a wobbly lip and said he’s just really happy to see you. Thank god. You were worried there was another bump somewhere that Jungkook hadn’t told you about.
You told him it was okay, that it wasn't his fault. That you were the crazy lady who ran in front of his car. That he did nothing wrong.
He dropped to his knees at your kindness, something nobody had ever done before. In fact, "kind" was probably the last word anyone would ever use to describe you.
He offered to pay for any medical bills, any necessities, anything you might need or couldn't afford. You giggled at the thought.
You thanked him for coming to see you. You told him not to lose any sleep over it, that you're okay and he's okay. You gave him your number and told him that when your grouchy caregiver returns your phone, you'd send him a text.
When he was about to depart, he asked if he could give you a hug. You nodded, telling him to come closer because Jungkook's hand was not letting go of your waist.
Yongbok happily pulled you and Jungkook into a joint hug since he refused to move. Jungkook reluctantly participated, giving the kid a pat on the back while he snuggled you both and you couldn't stop the loud laugh that escaped your lips.
Yongbok thanked you one last time before he left with Jimin and Minji, telling you to please let him know if you think of anything you may need. What a sweet boy.
Aside from making amends with Yongbok, and your close friends visiting your penthouse throughout the week to bring your schoolwork and random gifts, you haven’t had much interaction with the outside world.
You haven’t seen Mingyu since that night.
In person, at least. You've been texting frequently and even FaceTimed a few times. His eye was healing well, for which you’re very grateful.
The night Jungkook brought you home after the hospital, you found several missed calls from Mingyu on your phone that Yoongi delivered when he saw it on the ground outside whilst taking Minji home.
Your device ban hadn’t started yet, so you called him back immediately and spent over two hours talking and crying. You apologized for everything you had dragged him into, and he insisted you had nothing to be sorry for.
Mingyu truly is the kindest and most gentle soul, and you’ll always regret hurting him the way you did.
During that conversation, he told you he loved you.
Even though it took a messed-up situation to realize it, you knew you had love for Mingyu too. He had always been there for you whenever you needed someone, whether the nights you spent together were fueled by lust and sexual frustration or not, they were meaningful and amazing. He made it so easy to love him, even if your feelings couldn’t match the depth of his.
Mingyu had undoubtedly gotten the short end of the stick in your relationship, always giving more than he received. In your newfound friendship, you are determined to make it up to him. And you will.
Jungkook, too, had been deeply affected by the night’s events. After you finished up with Mingyu, Jungkook took your phone when you handed it to him and disappeared for an hour.
As far as you know, Jungkook apologized and they talked it out. Neither of them like going into much detail with you about it, which is a little frustrating, but you respect their privacy and don’t push further.
Jungkook did come back into your room with red puffy eyes though, and you softly teased him about crying before you snuggled up together and watched a movie.
Jungkook had taken a week off classes to look after you. You rolled your eyes when he first told you, not taking him seriously. But when you woke up the next day, cuddled against his chest while he scrolled through his TikTok feed, you started to believe him.
And when you tried to lean up and see what he was watching, only for him to immediately turn the device away, adhering to the doctor's orders of no screens, you realized just how serious he was.
Over the past six days, you've fallen into a stupid little domestic routine. Now, as you're almost fully recovered and preparing to return to classes tomorrow, a grey cloud looms over you both. The topic you haven't dared to address since that night is getting closer, heavier. You can both feel it.
That's why, as Jungkook slowly packs his clothes into his overnight bag in preparation for tomorrow and you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your nails, the room is enveloped in a heavy silence.
You knew it was a bad idea to let him stay. To ignore everything that should've been sorted the first morning after the incident. But instead you chose to live in blissful ignorance for six days while you play fucking house.
But come on. Having Jungkook dote on you and care for you for an entire week? Please, that's every female student at Yonsei's wet dream. Quite a few guys, too.
You look up from your nails as he zips up his bag, kicking it to the corner of the room before resting the clothes he'll wear tomorrow on your dresser. He looks over at you, walking to the edge of the bed. For the first time in all the years you’ve consciously known him, he hesitates to touch you.
You blink at him, not moving, not saying anything.
Finally, Jungkook breaks the silence, his voice quiet and raspy, "Should we talk?"
You swallowed, nodding slightly. "Okay."
He sits down beside you, close but not touching. "I meant it, you know. Everything I said."
You hesitate, your gaze fixed down on your painted toes. "And what did you say?"
You can feel his eyes on you, but you don't look up. He brushes some hair—that's growing out nicely as you put it—behind his ear before taking a deep breath. He can't fuck this up.
"I've been in love with you since I learned what love was."
The room goes silent. Neither of you dare to even breathe.
"Wha-huh?"
"I've been in love with you ever since I learned what love was," You repeat.
You finally look at him, and he can't decipher the expression on your face. His eyes flicker between yours, searching for any sign that this is a prank, that Minji is about to burst in with a camera and tell him he's on live television.
"Maybe even before that," you continue, "but I just didn't know what it meant."
Jungkook’s heart races, each beat erratic and intense. He feels like he's about to pass the fuck out.
"No," he croaks.
You blink, "No?"
"No," he shakes his head, "you can't. Y-you can't be. That's not—you're n—what—what the fuck?"
You watch, silent, as he struggles with your revelation, the weight of your words clearly unsettling him.
Oh, you think. You've freaked him out by dropping the L word.
Well, you definitely misread the room there.
It’s not like you haven’t said "I love you" before. You tell each other that often enough—when he drops you off somewhere, at the end of your phone calls, when you give each other random gifts that remind you of the other.
But "I'm in love with you"? Yeah, that one’s a bit new…
Your stomach tightens, but you stay quiet, watching as his hand moves desperately through his hair, as if he doesn’t know what to do.
After a few minutes, he stops and turns to you. He didn't plan for it to go this way. He doesn't know what to fucking do.
You sigh, “I know this changes shit. Ruins everything. I thought I had it under control, but I really don't. And I'm not strong enough to keep pretending. So, if you're okay with still being in each other's lives, we need to set some clear boundari—"
"I fucking love you, Y/N." He kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands into both of his larger ones. "I've been obsessed with you since your mom brought you over to my house when we were five, and you told me my eyes looked like boba pearls."
You look into his eyes as he says that. They really do remind you of tapioca pearls…
"I can't remember a single day of my entire life where I haven't been in love with you. There is no me without you. You are all I can see when I think of my past and all I can see when I think of my future. No matter what you are to me, you're there. In every plan I make. In every dream I have. It's you. It's always been you."
You bite the inside of your bottom lip, fighting back tears. You’ve cried more in the last week than you have in your entire adult life.
"We are so fucking stupid." You sniffle, tipping your head back slightly to try and blink the tear up into your duct.
"We are," he agrees, gently tilting your head down and running his thumb under your lash line to catch the tear.
Once your face is dry, Jungkook's thumb travels down and brushes lightly over your bottom lip. He smiles when it feels exactly as he had imagined, another item mentally ticked off his bucket list.
You're about to ask if he's high when he suddenly springs into action, tackling you back onto the bed. You bounce slightly against the mattress as he holds himself up, careful not to squash you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you try, and fail, to suppress a smile at the idiot above you.
"It fucking sucked seeing you with other guys," he confesses, the words he’s been holding back for years finally breaking free.
Your fingers dance across his back, tracing idle patterns on the fabric of his shirt as you respond, “It fucking sucked seeing you with other girls.”
He pulls back slightly to look at you, a pout on his lips. "You should've told me, and I would've—"
“You should've told me!” you interject, giving him a playful smack on the chest. His frown deepens for a moment before breaking into a wide, uncontrollable grin.
He buries his head back into your neck, and you can feel him smiling against you. "You're such a loser," you giggle as you feel his teeth on your neck, not in a sexy biting way but because he's literally fucking grinning against you.
Time slips by quietly as your fingers sketch invisible designs across his back. Eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you think we knew?” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin.
“Hmm?” you hum, your hand pausing in its motion to thread through his hair.
He shivers slightly under your touch before elaborating, “Do you think we knew that we were in love with each other?”
Your movements resume, alternating between letting his hair slip through your fingers and gentle scalp scratches. “Yeah, I think so."
He nestles closer, the sensation of your nails against his scalp coaxing a suppressed groan from him. "Why do you think we didn't say anything?"
"I don't know," you reply honestly. "Maybe we were too comfortable. Or maybe we were scared of what it would actually mean."
Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, searching your eyes for answers. “What does it mean?” he asks quietly.
You smile, continuing to play with his hair. “You have a lot of questions,” you tease gently.
His nose scrunches at your evasive reply, and you run your finger down the bridge of it. "Such a pretty nose," you hum.
His eyes flutter shut at the touch, then snap open again. “You’re distracting me.”
The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Am I?"
He nods, making no move to stop the traces of your digit along his face. When your finger brushes the edge of his lip, he turns his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of your finger, his actions drawing a gentle smile from you.
"You don't—do you not want to," he starts, hesitating mid-sentence before pushing himself to continue, “be with me?”
You bite your lip thoughtfully, finishing your gentle explorations of his face, your hand settling back onto his back. “I want to be with you more than anything else in the world, Gukkie.”
He lets out a breath of relief at your words, but his face falls slightly when he senses your hesitation. "But?"
"But," you say softly, "I'm scared. I'd rather have you in my life as my best friend than not have you at all if things don't work out."
He shakes his head, his hand cupping your face gently. “I told you. No matter what you are to me, I want you in my life. Isn’t that the same for you?”
"Of course it is, but you can't guarantee we'll feel this way in—"
“You’re such a beautiful,” he interrupts, planting a soft kiss on your jaw, “intelligent,” another on your neck, “incredible,” he continues down to your collarbone, “pessimist.” He finishes with a kiss just above your heart.
He gazes up at you with a mischievous grin as you narrow your eyes at him. "I will always want you in my life, no matter what shit ends up happening. Even if you tell me you hate me, or you like, fuck my dad or something…" He looks at you seriously, and you roll your eyes, unable to stifle your snicker.
"Well, your dad is kind of a DILF—"
“I’ll never willingly leave your life. And I’ll never do anything to make you want me to leave. And I promise you, on everything that is holy,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to a tender spot below your ear, “I’ll want you in mine for the rest of my fucking days.”
“You better,” you tease, his smile pressing into your skin before you grow serious, “because I can’t lose you.”
Jungkook’s sigh warms your skin, his nose nudging your head back as he murmurs, “You really don’t understand just how obsessed I am with you, do you, baby?”
His gaze lingers on your exposed throat, tracing every swallow, every breath. Unable to resist, he leans in, his lips finding the base of your throat, humming in contentment at the little noise you make.
Slowly, he makes his way to the side of your supple neck, his lips never detaching from your skin on his journey. You feel his breath as he hovers over the area for a second in pausing, and you wonder if it's because he can hear your heart slamming against your ribcage.
No strenuous activities.
His lips finally latch onto the skin of your neck and you feel the tiniest flick of his tongue as he suckles at the flesh.
Avoid physical exertion.
You let out the softest, breathiest fucking moan he's ever heard, and he pulls off your neck with a wet pop. His bunny teeth poke out to nibble at the now moist skin as he slowly moves to your collarbone.
Make sure you rest.
His kisses get lower, hotter, wetter, until finally, his face hovers over your thin little sleep shirt that he's considered throwing down the garbage disposal since you put it on. Bra, nowhere in sight, your hardened nipples taunt him through the pathetic excuse of a t-shirt. He glances up at you with eyes darkened with desire.
Fuck it, you've had enough rest.
You slide your hands up the back of his neck and dra him down to you, your lips meeting his with urgency. You swallow the surprised groan that escapes him, his arms framing your face as he looms over you.
Jungkook feels the tension in his muscles melt away as he surrenders to you. When you part your lips slightly, inviting him closer, he doesn't hesitate.
Your body ignites when his tongue slips into your mouth, lapping against yours and exploring as if it had always belonged there. As your back arches towards him instinctively, he slips large hand behind it, pressing you flush against him.
The countless times he's imagined this exact scenario could easily label him a certified stalker, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. He was absolutely fucked.
You're lost in the sensation, the warm air of your bedroom enveloping you blissfully. Nothing but the sounds of your mouths moving against each other's, tongues melting into one. Jungkook swallows the breathy whimper that escapes your lips with pride, his hips shifting forward at the fact that he's the one drawing such a noise from you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down, urging him to erase any space left between you.
"Fuck, Y/N," he chokes out, parting from your lips to suck in a deep breath as he feels the warmth between your thighs through his sweatpants.
"I know," you nod dumbly, mind foggy as you grind your hips into his desperately.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "It's never fucking felt like this," he confesses, each word punctuated with a thrust that draws a deeper moan from your lips.
"I know," you whine in agreement, your left arm linking around the back of his neck as you meet his movements, your entire body responding to his every move.
It hasn't felt like this. Ever. You've thought that you've had some pretty good sex in your life, but this is… different. All you’ve done is kiss and grind a little, and yet you can feel those tingles in your fucking toes that people always sing about.
It would be easy to say that it's because it's been eight long days since your last orgasm, but you know that's not the case. It's because it's him.
You've never wanted a cock in you so badly. Especially not after just three measly minutes of dry humping. But god, you're so turned on right now you're pretty sure if he pulled your panties to the side, it would spray at him like a fucking fire hydrant. As you said, it's been eight days; you're a little feral right now…
You feel him stiffening through his sweats, your back arching a little more as you shift and wiggle to try and usher his covered cock through the folds of your covered pussy.
Jungkook's hips stutter when he feels you trying to line him up, and his head jerks up to look at you. He drinks in your blissed-out features; lip between your teeth, head tilted slightly, eyes closed. So pretty.
Your eyes flutter open at the long pause in his movements, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight.
Cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, eyes hooded.
You almost let a giggle slip when you see the similarities between his horny face and his drunk face.
"Do you want to take a nap?"
You blink at him.
"I'm sorry?"
The pink tinge that coats his cheeks creeps down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. "I just thought—"
"What?" you ask, maaaybe a little offended, "you don't wanna fuck me?"
His brows furrow as he sits up, his heels resting under his butt as he stares at you like you've just kicked a puppy before his very eyes. "First of all, I want to fuck you. I've wanted to fuck you since you made me pop my first boner at your dumb little pool party—"
"Jeongguk," you cringe, "we were like twe—"
"I've never wanted to fuck someone more than I. want. to. fuck. you." You almost laugh at the serious expression on his face but bite it back when you notice the undertone of worry in his gaze.
"I just want it to be perfect," he sighs, his tattooed hand lifting to brush through his hair, one of his nervous tics. "There's so much I want to do... and I want it all to be, like, perfect... god, Y/N, I'm being such a little bitch—"
"No," you cut him off simply, "you're being really fucking hot."
He looks at you with a slight pout as you shoot him a small smile before sitting up and mirroring his position. Your bare knees touch his that are covered by the gray Celine sweatpants you bought him last Christmas as a stocking stuffer. You're a good deal shorter than him, so your head is tilted up slightly, blinking at him slowly through your lashes.
You watch his gaze soften and you internally smirk. There we go.
You've waited far too long for the man sitting in front of you on your queen-sized bed—staring at you with more lust than you know what to do with—to prolong this any longer.
You can have your perfect night when you're not a week into an unplanned celibacy course, and your clit doesn't feel like it's going to shrivel up and snap off if left unattended any longer.
"If you want to wait, we'll wait." You shrug as you look from his left eye to his right, then down to his swollen lips. "But I haven't touched myself in eight days... And it hurts, Gukkie."
Your head hits the pillow as his mouth is back on yours in an instant. You moan in satisfaction, your lips parting eagerly to let him in further. Your legs wrap back around his waist happily, and your foot trails down to rub soft patterns against his hamstring while his tongue plays with yours.
"This is just a practice run," he grunts as he separates from you, kissing his way down your chest before he gets to the valley of your breasts.
"Yeah, yeah, grace period, whatever you want, baby, just keep going," you blurt in a huff, eyes closed in anticipation as his mouth is about to finally do some damage.
You almost scream when he stops.
You snap your eyes open and look down at the son of a bitch breathing hot air onto your already hot skin while he just smiles at you.
"Say that again."
"Say wha—"
"Baby. You called me baby, say it again."
You stare at him for a moment, your idea to tease him diminishing with the last of your patience.
"Baby," you add a shy pout to really sell it and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, "can you suck on them for a little?"
You watch as Jungkook's smile fades and his eyes unfocus, like he just transported into a different state. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he nods once, almost to himself, before he takes the bottom of your shirt that's ridden up to your belly button and lifts it to rest under your chin. Your tits bounce slightly as they spill from the fabric, and he lets out a soft "fuck" before diving in.
His hot mouth latches to your left nipple, groaning when he feels the bud pebble against his tongue. His lips pucker around the nub, sucking it into his mouth desperately, and he lets out a loud moan. This is it. This is heaven, he thinks.
Your legs shakily unlatch from around his waist, and you rest your feet on the mattress, your knees bent and pressing against his sides while he makes out with your tits.
His teeth graze gently over your nipple before he gives it a little nibble, which causes your back to arch. Doing so forces more of your boob into his mouth and he lets out a low muffled groan through a mouthful of your flesh.
"Mmmf've wanted these in my mouth for a long fucking time..." He slurs when he pulls back. His big hands cup your big tits, his gaze concentrated and focused as he jiggles and plays with them, like he can't believe what he's seeing.
"Do you wanna fuck them?"
Jungkook lets out a loud groan at your filthy words, spoken with such an innocent tone his cock is almost confused as it swells like a fucking water balloon in his pants.
His left hand continues to rub soothingly at one of your tender nipples while the other slips down between you. He looks up at the blurry need in your eyes, and his traveling hand almost misses the waistband of his sweats.
"I always knew you were dirty," he breathes out, the words muffled as he plants soft, wet kisses on each of your nipples, sending shivers down your spine. With a strained groan, he frees his painfully hard erection from the confines of his briefs. "But fuck, baby, this is gonna kill me."
God, the way he says baby. Straight to the fucking core.
You tap his bum with your foot and a pretty smile, sitting up on the bed when he lifts his frame to let you slide out. His angry red cock is flush against his stomach, only the top few inches visible from the briefs that rose back up to cover him.
He lets you usher him to sit at the edge of your bed, his feet digging into your fluffy rug as he tries to ground himself while you settle. Your shirt is still being held up on its own because your tits won't let it fucking fall and Jungkook shakes his head in awe at the sight. Fucking unbelievable.
The moment you kneel on the ground, the tops of your feet flat against the carpet as you lean up slightly, your eyes fixate on his throbbing cock like it's a priceless painting. Jungkook loses his mind.
Your eyes slowly lift to his when you hear his heaved, choky breathing. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you fight the urge to smile. "You're so pretty, Gukkie."
"You're prettier, baby," he replies without missing a beat, one hand supporting his weight on the bed while the other gently caresses your face.
A radiant smile spreads across your lips as you turn your face to place a fleeting kiss on his palm. His lips tug upwards at the action before the air is suddenly ripped from his lungs.
Leaning forward, you pull his briefs fully down, unsheathing his entire shaft. You tug the boxers and sweatpants so they rest under his balls, cooing at the way the elastic slightly pushes up his length, making it even angrier as a dribble of liquid gathers at the tip. You lift his shirt absentmindedly to get it out of the way, and he understands, lifting a hand to the back of the neckline and pulling it off his torso.
You barely have a chance to appreciate his tight abs, tiny waist, sinful ink that coats his skin, or the sparkling Cartier chain that dangles from his neck, a mirror of your own.
Your head tilts as you admire the prettiest dick you've ever had in front of you, each vein and ridge perfectly imperfect, complementing each other in a way that would look strange if a single one were to go missing. "Needa..." you hum, entranced, "get it wet first."
"Fuckkkkk," Jungkook moans as you lean down and lick a fat strip from the base of his balls all the way up his shaft, sucking the tip into your mouth.
Your eyes flutter closed on their own, the feeling of his heavy cock weighing your tongue down, making you drowsy and floaty. The scent of your body wash wafts from his skin, igniting a possessive fire in your gut you didn't even know you had as you suckle at the head. The moment he twitches against your tongue, any thought of titty-fucking flies right out your penthouse window. You're not letting him out of your mouth.
"Ohhh-hhh," he stammers as your tongue focuses on the ridge of his tip, lapping at his frenulum like it's your favorite blueberry flavored lollipop.
His hand, which had dropped back to the bed when you took him in your mouth, lifts to run through your hair, brushing it out of your face when it threatens to get in the way of your masterwork. Your eyes blink open in thanks, looking up at him dazedly, and when you catch his own, he throws his head back with a groan.
"Fuck!" He curses as you hum around his shaft, letting your lips part slightly so saliva can drip from your mouth and trail down his cock. His head snaps up to watch as you keep pushing more spit until you deem there enough before your right-hand lifts to clasp around the member.
Jungkook's eyes roll back, the grunts falling from his lips not even registering in his brain as they spew. "Fuck, baby," he huffs out. You wiggle your fingers until you have a good hold on his cock before giving it a few lazy squeezes to get the blood pumping.
"Fucking fuck!" He's absolutely done for, his entire vocabulary vanishing from his mind as you play with his dick like a joystick. Your tongue gives a final flick to lap up the precum spilling from his glan before you inhale deeply through your nose and start to feed the shaft down your throat.
The walls of your throat contract slightly as his thick girth tests your boundaries, but you push through the resistance and force it further until your lips reach your hand gripping the base of his cock.
"Oh my fucking god," Jungkook almost falls backward, but the hand that's not holding your hair out of the way steadies his balance, shaking as it works to keep him upright.
His hips jerk unconsciously when you move your hand from the base, resting it gently against his balls as you inhale through your nose again and finish him off. "Baby! B-fuck!" Jungkook would like to say that it was a manly groan, but it was a pure and outright whine.
His vocality goes straight to your cunt, your clit aching and throbbing against your underwear, screaming at you to let it breathe. You resist the urge to trail a hand down and relieve the pain, instead using it to cup Jungkook's full ballsack and roll it between your fingers. His whines get louder at that, and you almost smile around his cock.
You wait until you feel the familiar sensation of the cockhead tickling the back of your throat, the automatic gag rising through your entire body, making you swallow harshly against his shaft. 
When you swallow, you rid the excess saliva that was in your mouth, so you lift off for a second to gather more. As you do, you look up to your best friend and see him staring down at you like you hung the stars, and the smile finally breaks its way to your lips.
You lean up to give him a kiss, and he meets you halfway, his hand falling from your hair to cup your face as he melts into your mouth. It's short, sweet, and soft, yet it makes your entire body flush with goosebumps.
"I love you so much," Jungkook breathes when you pull away, and you coo at the softy, pressing a gentle kiss against his pretty nose.
"I love you more, my Gukkie," you reply sweetly before returning to the task at hand.
"Not possi—" his words are cut off when you let a stream of saliva drip from your mouth before taking him down in one swift motion.
"Oh," he moans, both hands gathering your hair into a loose ponytail, following the rise and fall of your head as you deepthroat his cock. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, fucking shittt."
You quicken your pace, your right hand like a magnet below your lips, gliding up and down his length as you squeeze it intermittently, picking up on the subtle jerks of his hips. The spit coating his cock squelches with every stroke, the filthy noise echoing in your bedroom, making your hips shift against the heels of your feet. You're so turned on. Why is his dick so fucking pretty?
Your mouth is lethal, dragging all the way until the only thing left in your cave is the tip before gulping all the way back to the base. "Yesss, baby," he chokes, "taking it so well, my baby. So fucking well."
His praise loosens the final screw in your hazy brain, your hand on the base moving to grip his thigh as you gurgle as deep as you can, the tip brushing against your uvula. You gag, hard and loud, spit spilling from your lips as your teary eyes squeeze shut. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out the loudest moan of the night, his hips jerking forward roughly, forcing another gag from your throat.
"Mmmmmfh," you moan desperately, squeezing his thigh tightly and running your free hand back to his balls. You roll the sack in your hand, lifting your head up and down his cock with no mercy, sloppily choking on his throbbing length.
His hands tangled in your hair are shaking, his abdomen tensing as he's overwhelmed with pleasure. "God, look at you just taking it all babyy, hhffuckk,” he praises through a grunt, watching the saliva spill out from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to his balls while you fondle them. “Best fucking girl, you know that? Making me feel so fucking good. Just want me to come down your tight little throat, don’t you, my baby?"
Your eyes roll back behind your closed lids as you nod pathetically with a mouthful of his cock. You lift off with a wet pop, your eyes blinking open as you guide your hand from cupping his balls up to his shaft. You jerk him tight and sloppily before leaning down and taking his sac into your mouth. It's big, barely fitting in your mouth, but you force your jaw wider, using your tongue to usher his balls inside.
"Ahhhhffuck," Jungkook whines, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your tongue laps around his balls ruthlessly as you quicken your tugs on his shaft. When you moan greedily, wiggling your head as the sac pulses and rolls against your tongue, Jungkook feels the familiar sensation flooding his body. It's faster and harder than ever before. He tries to gesture you off him, afraid if he speaks he will lose control, but you don't relent.
"Baby, y-you gotta hop off," he heaves, his ass cheeks clenching together to try and hold off the urge to cum.
"Mm-mm." You hum a no through a mouthful of ballsack, eyes fluttering open to look up at the gorgeous man trying to take away your meal. Your hand, running amok on his cock twists and squeezes, never halting as you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes.
"Ah," he whines with a shake of his head, his hips thrusting into the air, your mouth jolting with the movement as it's attached to his balls. You hum happily, tongue flicking against them. You can't wait to see his cum dripping down his abs—
Your mouth is ripped from his balls, hand unwillingly releasing his cock as he throws you back onto your bed with purpose. "Hey—"
Jungkook swallows your whine with his mouth, cutting off your thoughts at the source when his tongue delves through your lips, lapping at the taste of him lingering on your tongue. He successfully makes you forget what unimportant thing you were going to say as he devours you, your mouths moving together, sloppy and wet.
He pulls your tongue into his mouth and suckles on the muscle while his hand runs gently over your still-exposed nipple before trailing down to your shorts. Jungkook groans around your tongue when he brushes lightly over your heat, feeling the fabric coating your pussy-lips wet to the touch.
With a final suck on your tongue, he lets it slide back into your mouth before parting from your lips. He looks down at the area he's tracing light strokes on, and his cock twitches at the sight.
"Oh, baby..." He coos, his thumb running over the wet patch in awe before looking to you. Your lip is drawn between your teeth as you nibble lightly on the flesh, eyes clouded as you stare at him with a mellow haze. "So wet, pretty... Gukkie didn't give her any attention, and she's all achy now, hmm?"
"Mmhm," you nod softly, the pout on your face still visible even with your lip tugged between your teeth. Jungkook pulls his gaze from his thumb and looks at you, all soft and sweet, just for him.
"Need the ache to go away, don't you, pretty?" He mumbles against your mouth, not applying pressure but just letting your lips rest against each other.
"Yes, please, Gukkie." You respond, voice soft as you stare at his lips patiently, waiting for him to give them to you.
"Good manners, baby," he praises delicately before leaning forward and giving you a slow, gentle kiss. You melt into him, the sound of his pleased sigh making your muscles all mushy.
Jungkook pulls back and then presses three quick, rapid kisses against your lips, making you giggle. That seemed to be his goal when the side of his mouth curved upwards at your laugh as he lifted himself off your frame.
He kicks off his sweatpants the rest of the way, and they fall to the floor next to your bed, but he tucks his still painfully hard cock back into his black briefs to hold it for the time being.
Jungkook looks down at his effortlessly beautiful best friend, lying prettily on her bed, hair sprawled out against the pillow while she waits for him to take her any way he desires. Teenage him would be freaking the fuck out if he could see him right now.
His gaze drags slowly up your body, a lingering moment spent on the meat of your thighs, and he swallows before finally locking onto the space between.
You try to will yourself to be patient despite the aching throb coming from your heat, but your leg betrays you and twitches slightly. Jungkook catches the movement instantly.
"Gonna flip you on your tummy, okay baby?" he says distractedly, eyes never straying from the wet patch on your shorts.
"Oka—"
You don't get to finish your sentence before his hands are on your hips and he flips you as gently as a horny lacrosse captain can. A surprised squeak slips out when your face hits the mattress, and you both giggle, Jungkook leaning down to kiss your shoulder with a soft, sorry pretty.
Jungkook has always been a tits guy. Tried and true. It may have stemmed from growing up with a best friend that he was hopelessly in love with who happened to develop the greatest rack he'd ever seen in his life... But right now, as Jungkook stares at your soft, round asscheeks stuffed into those little cotton sleep shorts, he's beginning to rethink his entire life choices.
He kneels at the edge of the bed, using your ankle to gently pull you further toward him. You slide down the bed without any complaints, trying not to arch your back so you can be even closer to him.
Jungkook continues his ministrations on your curves before trailing up to the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them done, your panties coming with them, and he groans at the way the flesh ripples when released from the fabric. He grabs a greedy handful of each cheek with his big hands and gives them a rough squeeze, relishing in the way you push back into his grip.
"So pretty, my baby," he hums, continuing to knead the flesh as he dips to pepper kisses all over the flushed skin.
You whine, your hips grinding into the bed in an attempt to put some pressure on your ignored clit. He notices your movements and presses one last kiss to your right asscheek before sitting back and pulling your bottoms off fully. They fall into a pile next to his discarded sweatpants, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the freedom from the confines.
When one of Jungkook's hands slips between your belly and the mattress, you can't stop the noise of satisfaction that leaves you when he gently ushers you to your hands and knees. You quickly tug your top the rest of the way off, slinking it over your head and handing it back blindly to Jungkook. He takes it from you instantly, chucking it at the growing pile of clothes next to him.
On instinct, you fall to your forearms, nipples rubbing against your duvet as you arch your back, biting your lip when even the warm air of your bedroom feels cool against your burning cunt.
"Fucking hell..." Jungkook chokes out, the sight of your soaked pussy spread and bearing for him, making his mouth water.
"Ah-fuck!" A high-pitched squeal rips from your throat when he leans down and delivers a long, broad lick up your slit.
He lets out a loud moan into your pussy when you jerk back into him at the feeling. You're so fucking wet from being so worked up, and his cock throbs against his briefs at the taste of your juices leaking onto his tongue. Jungkook's hands slide to the front of your thighs to steady you as he loses himself, his tongue wrapping your clit, sucking the hardening nub messily into his mouth. "Mmmmfh," he sighs contently like he was taking a sip of a well-made café latte instead of feasting on your cunt like a madman.
When he releases your clit, dragging the flat of his tongue from the button all the way to your opening, your knees buckle. "Yes, Gukkie, fuckk yes!" You cry, writhing against his sinful tongue.
Jungkook almost purrs in delight, lapping up the slick between your folds, trying to get every last drop. His tongue finds its way to the entrance of your core, teasingly dipping in and out once, twice, before he loses control and thrusts it as far as it can go. "Uhhh-shhhittt," your head falls forward with a shuddery gasp, your walls clenching around his tongue, pulling a low groan from him.
Jungkook's hands slide up from your thighs to rest on your asscheeks, and before you can process the realization that he hasn't used his fingers on you yet, he's gripping the flesh and pulling you harshly into his face. "Uh!" You moan, your ass flush against his face as he buries himself, nose and tongue, right into your cunt.
"Hhhhhhhhhh," you're not even saying words anymore, just useless, incoherent noises spluttering from your lips as you quiver, grinding your pussy back into his face.
He tries not to focus on your other hole, the tight little puckered fucking one that's basically blinking at him. Taunting him. He closes his eyes as he focuses on losing himself in your pussy. Another day, he thinks.
Jungkook's mouth is covered in your juice, his head shaking from side to side as he drags his tongue furiously around your cunt. The filthy sound of your sopping pussy getting devoured by his tongue resounds around your bedroom, Jungkook's hips rutting into the edge of your bed needily.
"Yes, Gukkie, yes!!! So good babyyyy--ohhh fuckkkk!" You scream, your nails digging into the mattress as you grind your pussy back into his face.
Jungkook's eyes roll back, his moans getting swallowed by your slick folds. Fuck oxygen, he hopes he passes out.
He takes one of the hands resting on your ass and brings a finger to your leaky entrance. He pulls away for a millisecond to suck in a breath before dropping down instantly and enveloping your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth. And with that, he finally pushes his middle finger into your hole.
You try to moan, but with the pressure on your clit and the sensation of finally being filled, the only sound that escapes is a strangled gasp. He lets your clit slip out of his mouth before his tongue quickly darts out to flick against it vigorously, his finger delving deeper into your hole with every jab of his tongue.
Your body shudders as he expertly works his tongue and finger in tandem, each movement driving you closer to the edge. "G-Gukkie, I'm so fucking close," you whimper, your thighs trembling around his head.
Jungkook's free hand tightens on your ass, pulling you even closer as he tries to add a second finger, his eyebrows furrowing at the resistance. "Relax baby, gotta let Gukkie in." He gives a particularly hard tongue of your clit, a pleased hum declared into your pussy when he feels your walls loosen to let his other slip in.
His tongue flicks faster, more determined, as he feels your walls flutter around his digits. He pulls back a hair to mumble against your clit, "You can let go now, my baby. I've got you."
With a harsh flick of his tongue and a curl of his fingers, you tense up. "Oh my fuck, Gukkie, yes!" You cry out, your body convulsing as he pounds against your g-spot with his thick fingers. Your eyes roll back, a final scream ripping from your throat as you shatter, your orgasm ripping you apart from the inside out.
Jungkook doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers relentless as they pull every last drop of pleasure from your shaky core. The hand of his that is still gripping your ass slips up to gently rub against your back when you collapse into the mattress.
Tears well in your eyes as Jungkook delivers a final drag of his tongue from your bud to your hole, swallowing every last drop of juice leaking from your cunt. He withdraws his fingers carefully, replacing them with soft, soothing strokes along your inner thighs.
It takes you a solid minute to come down from your high, your limbs still tingling from the hardest orgasm you've had in, well, ever. Jungkook continues his soft strokes against your thighs while you catch your breath, his head spinning and mouth still coated in your remnants.
"I get it now." Your voice is muffled by the comforter you face planted into, and you currently don't have the strength to get up.
"Hm?" Jungkook hums amusedly, his hand still tracing gently over your skin.
"Why girls always want your dick so bad. I get it now. If your tongue is that good, fucking hell..."
Jungkook snorts, leaning down to press a kiss on your lower back before flopping down to lay next to you. You finally lift your head from the blanket to look at your best friend, who's already smiling down at you, his tattooed arm tucked behind his head while he rests against the headboard.
His brow raises when you giggle suddenly and sit up. He doesn't have time to admire your bare tits almost in his face when your hand lifts up to his mouth. You're still giggling as you wipe at the shiny substance that coats his lips. A shocked gasp leaves Jungkook's lips, and he grabs your hand in a flash, his eyes holding clouds of pure betrayal.
"Why would you do that?" He's genuinely upset!
It's your turn to snort this time, lifting a leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "I'm sorry, Gukkie." You entertain him with an amused eye roll, leaning in to plant a sweet kiss against his lips.
Jungkook dissolves into the kiss, about to deepen it when you pull away. His eyes snap open, ready to protest, when suddenly your tongue flicks out, dragging flat across his lips to gather your slick that coats his mouth.
"Mm," you hum, making sure to get every bit around the corner of his lips and even the speck of gloss you see on the tip of his nose.
Jungkook is frozen. His cock thrashes against his briefs as he stares at you in complete awe, your tongue sliding back into your mouth to swallow the juices—your juices—that you just lapped up from his fucking lips.
Your lip darts between your teeth as you try not to laugh at his darkened expression. Looking down at the source of the throbbing against your bare pussy, you let out a teasing coo. "That looks really sore, Gukkie..."
Jungkook swallows. He needs to calm down or he's going to pin you into the mattress and fuck you open, raw.
"It is." He manages to choke out.
You pout, lifting your gaze back to him. "Don't want you to be sore."
"You don't?" He returns softly, dragging his hand over your bare thigh.
You shake your head so cutely that he almost shivers. You lean closer, gaze flickering from his pretty nose and then back to his eyes. "I could make the pain go away if you want..."
"Yeah? You wanna make Gukkie feel better, pretty?"
You nod, the hazy feeling taking over again as he runs his hands gently up your hips, resting gently on the swell of your ass.
You lift off him slightly, his hands moving with you as they're glued to your bum. Jungkook bites his lip at the wet patch you left on his boxers, and he thanks God he did because it muffles the pitchy groan that escapes him when your hand slithers beneath his waistband.
His eyes flutter shut when you give his painfully red cock a few gentle strokes, his head dropping back to hit the headboard.
"Baby," you giggle, "you're so fucking hard."
He lifts his head to give you a deadpanned fucking obviously look, and you just snicker, leaning forward to kiss his pouty lips.
"Oh no. Fuck."
He jerks forward slightly at your serious tone, his hands moving from your butt to cup the one of yours that froze around his dick worriedly. "Huh? What's wrong?"
Your eyes soften as you don't respond verbally, a devastated look clouding your gaze. He sits up seriously now. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I don't have any condoms." Your brows are pulled together so tightly, which Jungkook still doesn't like, but he releases a breath at your words.
"Fuck, Y/N. Don't do that. You scared me, I thought you were hurt or something." His head falls back to rest against your headboard in relief instead of pleasure this time.
You frown. "Why aren't you upset? Oh, did you bring some?" Jungkook almost laughs at the thought, lifting his head to watch as you release his dick to glance behind you at his overnight bag.
"What-no, baby. Of course I didn't bring condoms. This is probably the last thing I ever expected to happen."
Your pout is in full swing now, turning back to Jungkook with a very unhappy look. He just shakes his head at your pretty face, planting his hands on the mattress beside him and pushing up to press your lips to his.
When you pull away, Jungkook is about to ask if you want to grind on him over his briefs because he would be finished in approximately thirty seconds—
"I'm on the pill." You say softly.
He swallows. "I know."
"Do you-are you clean?"
"Yeah," he chokes out, "haven't ever not used a condom. And tested after that scare the other week with...uh..."
"Did you really forget her name?" You squint, shaking your head incredulously at his genuine look of confusion.
"I-uh, yeah I don't know... All I remember is that it kinda burned when I peed—"
You roll your eyes. "Her name," you press a quick kiss to his lips, "was Yejin."
"Ohh, yeah—"
"You also did that stupid 10-packet spicy ramen challenge that day." Another quick kiss to his lips.
"Hey, that was for a fundraiser—"
"And I'm clean... Tested with Mingyu."
"Oh." Jungkook's heartbeat picks up. Not at the Mingyu part, okay maybe a little, but mostly at the fact that you're hinting at him taking you fucking raw right now.
Your lips purse, his response suddenly making you feel stupid for asking. Jungkook picks up on the look instantly, his hands cradling your face when you try to look away.
"Baby," you're about to apologize when he continues, "it's your choice. I'd fuck you wrapped in a garbage bag if you asked me to."
Your lips wiggle as you try not to smile, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes. "You're really cute, Gukkie."
"Oh?" He hums, "I thought I was a pussy eating God... but cute works too I guess."
You snicker, falling into his lips and he swallows your soft giggles with his tongue. "So humble," you whisper against his lips when you break away.
Jungkook's about to tease further, but you don't give him the chance, your hand slipping back down to wrap around his shaft. A soft shudder leaves him, his hands falling from your face to grip your ass again, squeezing it firmly.
You're still a bit sensitive, but nothing you can't handle, and you shift forward a little so the lips of your pussy press against his length.
"Oh-fuck." He moans at the feeling of a bare pussy on his cock. And it's your pussy. Holy fuck.
You place both your hands on his thick thighs, leaning back to get the right angle before you slide your hips up and down, dragging his length through your wet slit. Jungkook's hands sprawl over your back when you lean back, cradling you almost, and he keens at the sloppy, squishy sounds that fill the room.
Your clit is alive again, thumping against his cock every time it drags through your lips, and you heave out a strained moan at the fresh wave of arousal that washes over you.
Your hand pushes against Jungkook's chest gently as you sit up, determined. He lets himself fall back against the headboard, face flushed, neck vein visible, while he watches intently. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his thighs as you lean forward, your hand reaching behind you blindly to grip his shaft before you line it up with your entrance.
Your brows furrow, and you bite your bottom lip hard as you try to press the bulbous head in. Your opening does its best to stretch around the intruder and you let out a relieved whine when it finally gets sucked in.
"Fuck." Jungkook whimpers, his head slamming back hard against the headboard. Your walls burn as you struggle to accommodate his huge length, and he can fucking feel it.
You let the tingles flooding up your spine settle for a second. Then, you take a big breath, and drop.
"Mother fuckkkkk." Jungkook groans, his hands squeezing your ass tightly in shock as you take his entire length in one go.
Your eyes are closed, head thrown back in pleasure as you bask in the feeling for a moment. Every inch of you is filled with his thick girth. You've never felt so full and so fucking good.
You're so wet. So warm. So tight. Jungkook is grateful for the pause in your movements because he thinks he actually would've fucking come if you—
Your hips lift up until all that's remaining in you is his fat cockhead before you sink back down and take it all in one swoop.
Lewd noises spew from his lips as he forces his eyes to stay open, watching you swallow his cock over and over and over.
"So fucking good at that, baby, shit..." Jungkook grunts.
Your nails dig into his thighs at the praise, your head lifting back up to look at him as you increase your pace.
You begin to move faster, riding him with an increasing intensity that makes the bed creak beneath you. The friction and fullness send waves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp and moan. Your hands find his shoulders, using them as leverage as you bounce on his length harder.
"Godssooo fucking good," you pant, your voice a breathless slur. "So deep, Gukkie. C-can feel it in my tummy."
Jungkook's hands slide up your back with a growl, pulling you closer until your chests are pressed together. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as the rhythm of your hips grows more frantic. The slick sounds of your bodies slamming together fills the room, enveloping you both in desire.
Breaking the kiss, Jungkook's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. "Taking it so good, my baby," he worships against your collarbone. "So fucking perfect."
The praise spurs you on, your movements becoming pathetically desperate as you chase your release. You can feel the burning tension coiling in your core, ready to snap, when suddenly his feet move to plant themselves into your mattress and he begins to thrust up into you.
"Oh fuck yes, fuck!" You gasp, your knees trembling as he plows relentlessly into you from below.
"Shittttt," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you up and down on his cock, balls slapping against your ass as he pistons furiously into your pussy. "So good at riding cock, baby, taking it all like a proper fucking slut."
You cry loudly at his words, your nails digging into his shoulder slightly as you writhe against his thrusts. "It's the pilates," you choke out, "developed good core strength. Great for riding dick."
Jungkook lets out a loud laugh, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck while his thrusts get even deeper. He feels your walls tighten around him sorely, and he heaves a shaky breath before slipping a tattoed hand between you two, thumb attaching to your clit. Your fucked-out uh-uh-uh’s echoes in his ears with every plunge of his cock, fueling him to go harder.
The sloppy bud twitches under his touch, his thumb slipping from how soaked you are, but he doesn't back down. He chases the hard nub and flicks it in time with his thrusts, cock jittering as you let out your loudest moan of the night.
"I'm gonna come, Gukkie. I-I'm gonna fucking come! Oh my goddddd!" you're bouncing on him wildly, your walls clenching furiously with no pattern, completely run with pleasure that you can't control it.
"Come on, baby," he whines through a thrust, his balls squeezing as you get impossibly tighter, begging to let them release their fluids, "Ohh-h-ffuck, can I come too, baby? Can I come in you? Oh fuck, fuck."
You don't even get to answer as you completely shatter, your orgasm taking control over your whole body that you swear you see the light. You cry out his name as best you can, your body convulsing, shaking around his length.
You can't possibly speak as you collapse against his chest but as you fall, you see the pained look in his eyes as he tries not to come. You want it so bad. More than you've ever wanted anything in your life. Before you know what you're doing, your thighs tighten around his legs, your mouth moves to the nape of his neck, and you bite. Hard.
Jungkook spasms, the deepest growl of a moan rips through his throat as he throws his head back and cums, deep and hot, right into your cunt. You whimper around the chunk of flesh captured between your teeth, his thick load tickling your walls as it fills your hole.
You feel complete.
Jungkook's hands gently stroke your back, grounding you as you come down from your high. Nothing but the sound of both your heavy breathing fills your ears before Jungkook breaks the silence. "You did so well, baby."
Your tongue laps and licks softly at the skin of his neck to soothe the subtle teeth marks you left, and he lets out a pleased noise through a shiver. Your head lifts to look into his eyes, a hazy smile spreading across your face when you take in his blissed-out features. "I didn't know sex could feel like that."
Jungkook's eyes flutter open at your words, his stomach clenching in pure joy that his softening cock still tucked up inside of you even lets out a shudder. "Yeah?" He asks softly, a hand lifting to tuck some of your messy hair behind your ear.
"Yeah," you nod with a flutter of your eyes at his gentle touches, "the fact it was you was probably the main factor," you mumble dreamily against his neck when you rest your head on his shoulder, "but that was still the best dick I've ever had."
His heart swells infinitely. You were by far the best pussy he's ever had, but he didn’t think you would share such a thought. He should've known by now that if you are many things, predictable is not one of them.
You wrap your legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck happily as his cock stays plugged inside of you, keeping his load intact and secure.
Jungkook's arms slink under your arms gently so he can pull you even closer, wrapping you around his chest (and his length) like a koala.
"This has been the greatest night of my entire life, Y/N." He whispers honestly against your cheek before pressing a soft kiss into the skin. "Thank you."
You hum contently, tilting your head up slightly to look at him with a pretty smile. "I love you, Gukkie."
"I love you, pretty." He replies, peppering your lips with another three quick kisses, smiling in satisfaction when another you give him another giggle.
You let the comfortable silence wrap you for a moment before breaking it. "Do we have any pasta left from dinner?"
The mention of dinner makes him think for a moment. He cooked pasta for the two of you, which you ate not long before coming into your room. You ate before sex. And you don’t look like you feel sick.
He gazes down at you, his smile broadening, heart fluttering. "'Course, I made heaps. Are you hungry?"
"Mhm."
"C'mon then," he says, giving your bum a gentle pat, ready to lift you off him and clean you up before feeding you.
"'nna minute..." You mumble sleepily against his neck, and he stops his movements, hands settling back to rub soothing strokes on your bum.
"You want me to carry you, don’t you?" he teases, suppressing a smirk as he feels you clench around him absentmindedly at him reading your thoughts.
"Noo...." your voice trails off, not even trying to conceal your lie. Jungkook chuckles softly, feeling your smile against his skin.
He makes sure he has a tight grip on you, and you him, before he carefully lifts both of you from the bed. He leads you into your ensuite, his long arm reaching out to snatch some toilet paper and a clean hand towel from your shelf as he gently places you on the sink counter.
Jungkook captures the liquid that seeps from your core with the paper as he slowly withdraws. He gives you a chuckly sorry when you wince a little, the thick head of his cock tugging at your walls as he retreats. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips to distract you and slips out with a final tug.
After discarding the used toilet paper, he dampens the towel with warm water and tenderly runs it over your core gently, pulling a pleased sigh from your lips.
Watching your best friend in awe through half-lidded eyes, he makes sure to thoroughly clean up the mess on and in your pussy before he half-heartedly uses the towel to wipe at his wet length.
He chucks the rag into the laundry hamper on the other side of the large bathroom. It lands directly in the basket from his athletic skills, and he turns to you with a cocky smirk.
You shake your head in amusement, "you're a loser."
"Don't talk to me like that, gonna get me hard again."
Your eyes widen in mock shock, before you giggle into his chest. "Knew you'd be into shit like degradation... Just had this feeling."
"Only with you though." It's cliché, but he means it.
You lift your head from his chest. "Only for me, huh?"
Jungkook nods, still standing between your legs as you look up at him from your bathroom counter. His gaze turns a little more serious. "Only yours."
Your head tilts as you blink up at the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen in your life. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Jungkook responds instantly and certainly. His thumbs tremble nervously against your thighs while he waits for your response, and they pull to a halt when you lean up to rest your mouth against his.
"Good," you murmur softly against his pouty lips, "because I'm all fucking yours."
END.
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thank you so much for reading. let me know what you think? love you <3
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