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hoshigray · 3 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again.

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on.

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it.

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by.

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop.

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.”

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.”

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation.

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down.

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff.

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against.

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.”

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself.

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock.

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about.

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button.

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.”

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin.

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?”

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?”

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?”

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me?

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.”

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say.

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?”

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.”

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out?

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.”

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about.

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around.

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth.

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip.

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie.

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute.

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t.

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?”

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?”

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them.

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed.

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp.

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties.

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers.

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more.

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?”

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?”

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie!

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no!

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!”

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt.

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl.

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck.

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?”

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours.

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation.

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his.

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.”

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again.

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?”

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you.

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko.

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two.

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way.

4K notes · View notes

euphorajeon · 11 days

Text

trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

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miupow · 2 months

Text

[duality.] ─── ⋆ h. kai

an unexpected discovery about a friend sends you spiraling-- sure, hueningkai was cute, but he wasn't your type. at least, you thought he wasn't.

✩ pairing. huening kai x fem!reader

✩ words. 10k

✩ warnings. nsfw, mdnfi! smut with plot, f2l, graphic depictions of bdsm/rough sex, hard dom!kai, sub!reader, fem!reader, swearing, explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking, jealousy, wingman tyun and roommate yeonjun, gags, blindfolds, bondage, handcuffs, spanking, paddles, protected sex, manhandling, dry humping, sir kink, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, degradation, degredation/name calling, jake from enhpyen cameo, possible dubcon elements, possessive behavior, nipple play, breath play/choking, cute ending hehe

✩ a/n. here it is!! duality, all three parts put together into one big oneshot!! i've been putting off finishing this fic for the longest time which is so criminal of me i know... i hope this makes up for it ♡ feedback in the forms of comments and reblogs are always appreciated! this is not proofread! please lmk if there are any mistakes!

You don't remember when Friday night get-togethers became "let's all listen to Beomgyu complain" get-togethers, but you could hardly complain-- hearing about your friend's failed attempts at wooing his coworker made you feel infinitely better about your own love life.

"I just don't get it," Beomgyu sighs deeply, swishing his beer around like he was debating on some deep philisophical theory. He was squished into the side of Taehyun's too-small couch, legs hanging off of the armrest and head awkwardly lying on Soobin's broad shoulder. "I'm hilarious and I'm smoking hot-- why is it so hard for me to find a girlfriend?!"

"That's because you're a loser." Your roommate, Yeonjun snorted. He was splayed out on the other end of the couch, effortlessly beating Soobin, Beomgyu and Hueningkai in Mario Kart, legs manspread so wide Taehyun (who was squished against Soobin's other side) looked about ready to hit him.

"I don't know, have you tried asking her out instead of following her around like a creep? She probably thinks you're stalking her." Taehyun snickered, very engrossed in his phone. You could see him trying to close Yeonjun's legs with his knee. It was not working.

"Also, you have no game." Soobin added, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on the game. You were fairly sure part of the reason why he was losing so badly was because both of his arms were constricted to his sides. "Absolutely zero rizz, dude."

"Zero rizz," Hueningkai echoed with a giggle. Forever the smart and resourceful one, he chose to sit cross-legged on the carpet instead of squeezing himself on the couch-- you followed suit, not wanting to be in a sweaty sandwich with your roommate and his buddies. "I bet you haven't even said a word to her."

you sat with Kai near Yeonjun's legs, head propped up on the front of the couch as you snacked on popcorn. Hueningkai successfuly threw a blue shell at Yeonjun's kart-- your roommate's legs kicked out sharply, almost hitting you square in the head, and he let out a sharp "FUCK!"

"I have!" Beomgyu defended, sounding very much like a petulant child. "I talk to her all of the time! I asked her for her number, I made her a spotify playlist, I walk her to her car every night after our shifts--"

"None of that is asking her out though, hyung." Taehyun still hasn't looked up from his phone. "Did she give you her number?"

"No!" Beomgyu whined loudly, making everyone wince. "She said I haven't earned it yet!"

"It sounds like she's playing hard to get, maybe? Girls like it when guys pine." You supply, talking instead of listening for the first time in a while. You loved Beomgyu like a brother, and while it was funny to listen to his failed flirting you did want him to actually, you know, be happy. Plus he seemed to care about this girl beyond what her cupsize was, which was a pretty big deal for Beomgyu.

"More like she wants him to leave her alone." Hueningkai snickered back. “Hyung, I’ve not seen you this down bad since, like, grade school.”

“At least he’s not filling us in on his latest hookup,” Soobin shrugged, or at least tried to-- Beomgyu was now purposefully sitting on him. “Beomgyu might be a simp but I honestly see this as an improvement.”

“I’m not a fucking simp!” Beomgyu squawked, feigning hitting Soobin over the head with his controller. “I at least get more pussy than you losers— when was the last time Kai managed to bag a girl without her running away screaming first?”

The boys all laughed-- even Taehyun, which was weird--as if Beomgyu had made a joke that made sense. Kai? Scaring away girls? You’ve known him for years now, him being Yeonjun's friend and all, and while you didn't know him inside and out you were fairly sure he still slept with stuffed animals. Jesus, last time you had come over his only priority was showing off his Gundam.

“I think Kai would be the one running away screaming, honestly,” you laugh, expecting the others to follow, but you were quickly met with awkward silence. The boys all looked at you oddly, especially Beomgyu, who looked both deeply betrayed and like he had just gained some arcane secret. “…What? This is Huening we’re talking about, come on.”

“Yeah, Huening.” Beomgyu started, looking at you like you had grown an extra head. “It's always over when he starts going Fifty Shades on them."

"He starts going what?!" You sat up very suddenly, whipping your head around to stare at Hueningkai incredulously-- he was refusing to look at you, starting very intently at the TV screen, even though the game had ended minutes ago. The tips of his ears were cherry red. "You start going what?!"

"Oh my God, she doesn't know!" Yeonjun cackled madly, turning to look incredulously at Taehyun, who looked back with a wild grin. "She doesn't know!"

"I don't know what?" You felt a little betrayed by Taehyun, you had to be honest-- if anyone would have kept their head on, it would have been him. "Kai, what are they talking about?"

Kai was still refusing to make eye contact with you, instead glaring sharp daggers at his friends-- he genuinely looked angry, which was an emotion you weren't used to seeing on Hueningkai. "Don't worry about it, they're being dicks--"

"Hueningie likes to beat girls!" Beomgyu sang, his cute corner dimples popping out in his delighted, evil smile and making him look absolutely devilish. "He likes to treat girls like sluts!"

Kai was very very silent and worryingly still, nearly burning holes in the carpet with his stare. You furrowed your brow, blanched— that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting from him at all.

"There's no way you have no idea, Y/N, I mean-- you're joking, right? You've known him for forever now." Soobin cut in, looking genuinely confused.

"You've been in his room! Like, a thousand times!" Yeonjun laughed. "He's so fucking bad about putting all of his gross shit away-- once I saw handcuffs still attached to the headboard!"

You blinked.

This had to be some sort of joke. They were fucking with you, they had to be. "Are you trying to tell me that Hueningkai, OUR Hueningkai, is-- no he's not?! Have you met him? He collects Squishmallows!"

"You haven't looked under his bed yet, then." Taehyun snickered, once again on his phone-- you spluttered, both at his words and his nonchalance. Kai was still eerily silent.

"You've got to be joking. This is a joke. I don't think Kai's seen a pair of boobs in his life--"

"I’m not a virgin, you know." Hueningkai muttered stiffly, looking at you for the first time in a while. The residual anger he had for his friends lingered on his blushing, usually lax face, staring you down with an intensity you didn't think he could muster-- your stomach flipped hard, nearly having you recoil under his stare.

It took you an embarrassing second to register what he even said. "Oh. Um--"

"I'm not some fucking loser." Hueningkai repeated, voice calm but deep, deep dark, and it hit you quite suddenly that he was actually upset with you, not his friends. You had never heard Kai swear before. "Is it really that hard for you to believe? You don't know me.“

“Um, I—“ you spluttered, opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

“It’s like you think I'm some spineless, bitchless nerd or something-- it pisses me off, honestly, and I'm getting really fucking sick of it."

You were unable to choke out any words at all as Hueningkai pulled himself up sharply from the floor and stomped away into his room-- It was awkwardly silent for a few deeply conflicting moments, but Beomgyu was quick to pick back up the laughter.

"Someone's mad! Better watch out, Y/N, Hueningie might punish you for that!"

“Are you a slut?” Hueningkai hisses, big hand palming your bare ass– you whimper around your gag, tug at the restraints that bind your arms behind your back. “Is that what you are? All you can think about is getting cock, huh?”

Tears were starting to soak the silk of your blindfold, sticking wet and cold to your skin– you had never felt this raw and desperate in your life. “No!” you try to say, but it comes out a muffled whine.

Huening leans in close, hot breath caressing your ear, fabric of his shirt ghosting your back; his grip on your asscheek tightens, fingers digging into the flesh. “I’m sorry baby, didn’t hear you. What was that?”

“I’m not a slut!” you try again, shaking your head wildly, slurred words incomprehensible– drool ran down your chin and neck, dripped onto the bedsheets beneath you, and moving your mouth to speak only made more spill out. You felt disgusting, pathetic, humliated beyond belief… and your wet cunt ached.

“No?” Kai coos, the palm gripping your ass trailing down between your thighs. His fingertips brushed softly against your fluttering folds– the first real touch to your neglected pussy. You sob around the gag. It was nowhere near enough. “Then why are you so wet right now? I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. You want me to fuck you that bad, huh baby?”

And you wake up before you can answer.

“This is about Huening, isn’t it.” Taehyun states plainly when he answers your call. For a split second, you wished he was less reliable about picking up the phone.

“I haven’t even said anything,” you whine, a little petulant even to your own ears. Taehyun had always been able to read you like a book, read everyone like a book, and it never failed to piss you off and embarrass you.

“You never call me unless it’s about your problems.”

Oh. Well. You suppose that’s true. He was just such a great listener.

“He’s not a problem, I’m just– is he in the room with you right now?”

You can hear Taehyun’s eyeroll reverberate through his sigh. “He’s at class. If you’re calling to apologize, I can leave a message.”

You scoff. “Apologize for what?! I didn’t do anything!”

“I think you hurt his feelings. He hasn’t left his room all week except to go to his classes.” Taehyun sounded more amused than anything else. “You should at least tell him you’re sorry for emasculating him.”

“Emasculating him?!” And this was why you didn’t go to Taehyun when it came to problems involving his own friends. “He’s the one being a big baby about it! How was I supposed to know you guys weren’t joking? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Tell you what, that Kai’s a freak? We thought you knew. Plus, it’s not like it’s even that big of a deal. You’re both just being weird about it.”

“I’m not being weird about it!” You retort. “I’m just, like– how long have you known?”

Taehyun was quiet for a very long, uncomfortable moment. “Y/N, if you’re about to quiz me on my roommate’s sex life, I will hang up on you.”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You’re glad you’re curled up in bed and not out in public; you’d hate anyone to see you this flustered just over the phone. “I’m just confused on how it was apparently ’so obvious’ and I completely missed it.”

“That’s because he’d been trying to hide it from you. He’s just been doing a shit job– thought you figured it out anyway.”

You blink. “He’s… what? Why?”

Taehyun makes a noise like he’s sucking at his teeth, staticky over the phone. You briefly wonder if he’s actually going to hang up on you. “I promised Kai I wouldn’t tell you this.”

“Tell me what?!” You press with a hiss, grasping your phone harder in your hand– you were getting really sick and tired of everyone beating around the bush with you, like you hadn’t already learned more about Kai in the last few days than you had in the last few years. “Tyun, if it involves me, I think I deserve to know.”

Taehyun hesitates for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, deep and weighted like some veteran soldier. You want to laugh, really, but you’re too on edge to do much more than hang onto every word Taehyun says. “Kai’s gonna kill me for this.”

“I don’t care. Spill.”

“He’s… interested in you. Has been since he met you, I think. He was playing up that annoying good boy act ‘cos he didn’t want to ’scare you away.’”

You let out a breath like it had been knocked out of you with a fist, head spinning wildly. Kai was always so sweet and polite, got you gifts, made sure you always felt appreciated and included… but he had never given you the impression that he was into you. He was just like that with everyone.

But now that you thought about it…

Those smiles he seemed to save just for you, adorable and ecstatic like you had completed some insurmountable task for him instead of just getting him a candy bar or a glass of water, the gentlest ’thank you so much'es that made your tummy flip in the best way. Pretty brown eyes wide and sparkling every time he looked at you– he would always furiously turn away like he didn’t want you to catch him staring.

You caught him staring quite a lot. You always assumed you must have had something on your face.

Sweet Hyuka who told you you looked pretty even when you knew you didn’t, stepping into his and Taehyun’s apartment in pajamas because Yeonjun hadn’t told you it was movie night until he was getting ready to leave. Hyuka who would give up his seat so you could sit on the couch. Hyuka who was always the first to stand up for you if one of the other boys made a snide joke in your expense. Hyuka who hugged you first before he addressed anyone else. Hyuka who would sometimes only come out of his room if he was told that you were there. You always thought that Hyuka was a great friend.

Suddenly, the other night made a lot more sense. Just as suddenly, you also felt very, very guilty.

“Oh.” You whisper into the phone, because it had hit you that you hadn’t said anything for quite some time.

“Yeah, 'oh.’ Now he thinks you think he’s a gross pervert.” Taehyun snickers. He’s enjoying your plight far too much.

“I don’t think that.” you retort softly, a little sad.

“You should tell him that, not me.”

“How am I supposed to tell him anything if he won’t pick up the phone?!”

Taehyun’s quiet again, like he’s thinking. “Listen, Yeonjun’s taking us out for drinks Friday to celebrate Kai passing his midterms. I think he’s trying to cheer him up. Ask him to come with; you can talk to Kai then.”

“…Would Kai even want me there?” You ask.

“Probably not, to be honest. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not the one paying, he can go cry about it. Plus, I think hyung was gonna bring you anyway– he thinks this entire thing is hilarious.”

You hesitate for a moment. Not only foes this have bad idea written all over it, you also don’t have anything to wear. “Promise you’ll get me out of there if things get nasty?”

“How would things get nasty?” Taehyun laughs. “The most Kai would do is whine that he wants to go home.”

You should have stayed home.

Taehyun was right– when you brought up the club to Yeonjun, he had enthusiastically mentioned that he was, in fact, going to ask you to come with, and that he was very happy to hear you agree to go. Maybe that should have been your warning.

Huening hadn’t so much as looked to you the entire night. You spotted him immediately when you had stepped into the building, platinum blond hair and an oversized grey hoodie tucked awkwardly into a corner booth, big frame shrunk in on itself like he was trying to come off as small as he possibly could. You felt bad for him, really, watching him stare surly into the same drink he had been nursing the entire night– Kai hates clubs, yet the other boys kept insisting on celebrating with drinks and dancing instead of something Kai would actually enjoy, like a movie. You’re fairly sure Kai was already aware that the night wasn’t really about him and his test scores.

On top of the awkward atmosphere, you feel naked in this dress. You borrowed it from a friend, since you had nothing nice to wear— it was cute, but backless and low cut, and not to mention about two sizes too small. You were afraid to take large breaths, lest your breasts fall out of the top entirely.

You think you caught Huening staring from the booth as you sat at the bar with Yeonjun, but it might just have been wishful thinking.

“Just go up and talk to him,” Yeonjun suggests between swigs of his beer. He keeps looking over his shoulder at the dancefloor like he’s hunting for something— most likely a girl to take home with him.

“And what, grovel for his forgiveness? He looks like he wants to kill me.” you grumble around your own glass, half-hoping the liquor would at least spark some confidence. You felt the opposite of confident, in your stupid tight dress, scared of approaching a boy that professed his undying love for Molang on the daily.

“Maybe he just wants to fuck you. You look hot.” Yeonjun snickers, glancing quickly over at Kai’s booth— from the annoying grin on his face, you can only assume Huening is looking your way. “Go over there and tell him you’ll suck his dick if he’ll forgive you.”

“You’re gross.”

“You love me.” Yeonjun sneaks another look at the dancefloor; it seems he’s locked in on a target. “Gotta bounce. Yell if you need me to come and save you.”

“I don’t want your saving,” you retort snidely as he slid his way through the crowd.

You didn’t have any time to relish in your solitude, barely able to even take another sad sip of your cocktail— an unfamiliar body fills Yeonjun’s empty barstool in what felt like an instant, big mouth grinning like he’d been waiting for a while.

You suppose the eyes that you had felt on you hadn’t been Kai’s after all. Yeonjun’s grins could be decieving.

He orders a beer from the bartender, pretty yet odd accent slurring his words— you weren’t sure where it was from, but you sure did like it. “And another of whatever she’s drinking.” he adds, shooting a grin your way.

“Oh no, I’m alright—” you attempt to shut him down, but your voice wavers. He waves you off with a sweet laugh.

“It’s on me, baby. You look like you need it.”

You laugh nervously. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a diss or not, even including the petname. “Oh, do I?”

“You look stressed. Something got you down?”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. You’re not sure how to respond to any of this, really. Flirting wasn’t really your forte. “Just a little.”

The bartender puts down both of your drinks at once— your handsome new friend pushes yours your way, and you take it gratefully. This isn’t exactly how you wanted your night to go, but this man was hot, free drinks were free drinks, and maybe going home with someone new was a better outcome for your night than moping around alone and having to listen to your roommate get his dick wet. “Did some asshole abandon you over here? You’re far too pretty to be sitting here all sad and alone.” Your stranger croons, eyes heavy as they rake down your body, take in your dress. You squirm under his gaze. “My name’s Jake. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” You don’t bother addressing his earlier comment; the idea of talking about your boy problems to this very handsome boy made your skin crawl. “I like your accent, where are you from?”

“Brisbane.” Jake gave you another pretty, blinding grin. He had a very big mouth with very white teeth.

“…Pardon?”

“Australia.” Jake laughs. “I’m an Aussie. I was born here though.”

“Oh, I see! Are you here just to visit or do you live here? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, of course—“

“No worries, pretty girl.” He needed to stop with the petnames before you climbed him like a tree. “I live here for right now. Do you want another one of those?”

“Hm?” You looked down at your glass. You hadn’t even noticed that it was empty, just mindlessly holding it up against your lips while you latched on to every word Jake said. “Oh! Um. I’m okay, thank you!”

Jake seems displeased with your answer. You wonder briefly if he was just trying to get you drunk. It was working. “You sure? You’re still lookin’ a little sad there, baby.”

“I’m–”

“She said she’s fine.”

A big hand grabs your arm without much warning, making you squeak out loud— you whip your head back fast, ready to fight, but quickly freeze at the sight of Huening towering over you with a dark but unreadable expression. His grip was bordering on painful.

“Excuse me?” Jake retorts, face screwed up in irritation and clearly unwilling to back down from a challenge. “You know this guy?”

Unfortunately, you did. “Kai—“ you start, but quickly clam up; Kai shoots you a look you’ve never seen from him before, dark and feral. It twists hot in your belly just as much as it scares you.

“She’s done. We’re leaving.” Kai hisses dangerously near your ear, loud enough for Jake to hear. You’re too shocked to respond.

“Hey, what the hell’s your problem, man?” Jake’s griping, but it’s not doing much good— Kai tugs you up out of your seat and drags you by the wrist through the crowds and out of the back door of the club. You want to fight him, yell and kick and scream, but all you can manage is to stare incredulously at the back of his head. He hardly gave you the leeway to grab your purse. Or pay your tab.

“Kai, what the—“ He pushes you hard against the brick wall of the club, presses himself flush against your back— you can feel the stiff bulge of his hard cock against your ass, his hot breath fan across your neck in jagged, heavy breaths.

“You think this is fucking funny, Y/N?” he snarls, deep and nasty. His hands press yours against the brick, keeping you still against both him and the wall. “Are you trying to piss me off? Show up dressed like a slut, whore yourself out right in front of me?”

You can only get yourself to let out a strangled squeak, all too distracted by the swell of Kai’s cock, the heat of his body against yours. Was this really happening?

“C’mon, say something.” Kai goads, rolling his hips. it takes everything in you not to moan. “Why are you being such a whore, Y/N?”

“You’re hard…” You whimper.

“I’m hard?” Kai echoes, sneers meanly. “Fuck yes I’m hard. I’m hard ‘cos you look so fucking sexy in this dress, I love your body; God, did you wear this for me?”

You’d been telling yourself you didn’t, but you did. You absolutely did. “Uh huh…”

“Dressed up all pretty for me yet you’re letting other men call you baby? Sounds like you just want me to punish you. Is that what you want? For me to punish you?” Kai’s hands let go of yours to grab at your hips, guiding you to buck up harder against him. “You know, I thought you couldn’t take it. Thought you wouldn’t be able to handle me. But now I think you deserve to be put in your place, don’t you?”

“Kai…” You croak weakly, keen high in your throat when Kai grinds hard right against your clothed slit, nestles his head in your neck to mouth hotly at your skin.

“Fuck you’re wet, I can feel it. Say it. say you want me to ruin you.”

He’s right; your pussy’s dripping. You’ve never felt this needy before in your life, and Kai hasn’t even touched you. You can’t help but be a little afraid for when he does.

Your mind flashes back to your dreams, vivid scenes of being underneath Huening as he tore you apart completely, made you feel raw and alive in ways you didn’t think you ever could. You craved to feel even just a fraction of what you did in your dreams, finally make them a reality.

You needed him.

“Ruin me, Kai, please.” you beg, and you meant it.

“Good girl, fuck.” Huening curses hot under his breath, pulls himself away from you— you whine out at the loss, and Huening gives your ass a surprise slap in retaliation. You bite your lip to keep from shrieking. “Fuck, okay, we’re doing this. 7’oclock Monday, okay? My place; Taehyun won’t be home. We’ll have time to talk it out before. Don’t be late.”

And with that, Kai once again stalks away, heads back inside the club with his hands in his pockets and head held high like he wasn’t just grinding against you moments before. You’re plastered against the wall, dress ridden up your ass, sweaty and hot and so wet it’s starting to drip down your thighs.

You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to make it to Monday.

“7 o'clock Monday, okay? Don’t be late.”

Monday came far too fast. Despite having the entire weekend to yourself you felt as though you had been given no time to prepare; you spent three days pacing your and Yeonjun’s apartment, unable to do anything except think about Hueningkai’s words, his voice, his hands hot and burning, branding on your skin… you were haunted, ruminating endlessly about what he was going to do to you, what his plans were once he had you all alone and to himself. How far he would push you. If he would take you all the way to the edge. If he would stop if you told him it was too much. If you truly trusted him as much as you thought you did. If all of this was really just some strange, one-off situationship between two good friends, or if there were feelings you weren’t ready to address hidden somewhere just under the surface.

Was this just sex?

Yeonjun kept asking you if you were okay, brow furrowed as he watched you worry yourself half to death, and you didn’t know how to respond.

The dreams you had been having had only gotten worse, more visceral. They frightened you, almost, from the intensity of them, but in the same vein you had never felt this needy in your entire life. You needed to feel Kai’s touch on you again like you needed air.

The falling snow nipped at your bare legs as you shuffled nervously in front of Hueningkai’s apartment door. You certainly hadn’t dressed for the weather– hidden behind your knee-length coat, you wore your tiniest skirt and your tightest top, low cut with your cleavage spilling out of your push-up bra. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, buried your burning face deeper into the lapels of your coat as the icy cold wind picked up in a dizzying, biting flurry– you’ve never dressed up for a hookup before, and you hoped it wasn’t obvious… would Hueningkai even notice? Could you even call this a hookup to begin with? The entire situation was so incredibly alien and unlike you in every way that it left a bad taste in your mouth, one you mulled over as you stared daggers at his door. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock on it.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. Taehyun tore the door open for you right as you gathered the courage to raise your fist.

You shrieked at your friend’s sudden appearance, grabbed desperately at your coat like it was a lifeline– Kai had told you that he wouldn’t be home, told you that the coast was completely clear for you to waltz in– that was the only reason you had agreed to come over anyway. You had to save yourself from the potential humiliation of facing Taehyun again after Friday, especially looking like this, yet there he stood, eyeing you up and down as he shrugged his jacket on.

“Wha– Why are you here!?” you demand, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. Taehyun gives you an odd look.

“I live here.” He answers flatly. “I was just about to leave, actually. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Taehyun cuts you off. His eyes trail from your glossy lips down to your bare legs, grimace on his face that would have offended you in some other circumstance. “Actually, don’t answer that. Kai’s in his bedroom. I’m going out, I don’t wanna be here for this– use a condom at least, will you?”

Without waiting for your reply, Taehyun quickly side steps your shivering frame to trudge off through the snow. He gives you a limp and unenthusiastic wave goodbye without bothering to look back– if he had, he would have seen you gape and splutter at his retreating back like a landlocked fish.

The door was left wide open for you to enter; all of the lights were off inside, dark and empty except for the cracks underneath Hueningkai’s door, all the way down the hallway– you felt taunted by it, frigid and terrified like something unexpected would jump up at you as you stepped inside and locked the door behind you. You’ve felt less dread walking through haunted houses.

Tentatively, you make your way down the hallway, the apartment unsettlingly quiet as you reach Kai’s bedroom door and fumble with the doorknob– it was unlocked, much to your surprise, and slowly you cracked it open and slipped inside.

Hueningkai’s room was dark except for the light of his console, illuminating your friend’s outline as he played some video game you didn’t recognize; he slouched in his gaming chair with his back turned to you, volume turned up so high in his headphones that you could hear the muffled gunshots all the way from the doorway– he clearly had no idea that you were standing right behind him, so engrossed in the game blown up on his screen.

“Kai?” you called out quietly, too nervous to raise your voice. Huening continued to click away at his mouse and keyboard, and you stared awkwardly at the back of his head.

You double-checked the time on your phone; you had shown up exactly when he had told you to. There’s no way he had forgotten about Friday… was there?

“Kai.” you called again, this time a little louder. Kai still did not acknowledge you in the slightest.

Frowning, you step over to his side, tap gingerly at his shoulder, and Kai reacts instantly— he jumps up out of his chair with a deafening shriek, sends his headphones flying as he whips his head around in terror to face you… it takes him a second to recognize your face, but his face floods with color once he does.

“Holy– Oh, (Y/N), Oh my God!” he whines, clutching his chest. Even his ears are red, you notice when he bends over to pick up his headphones up off of the floor, and you giggle to yourself as he turns back around to give you a startled, puppy-eyed look. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” you reply, trying your very hardest not to laugh in his face. You’ve never seen him this embarrassed before, avoiding your eyes with puffed-out cheeks and a pink face; it was a cute look on him. “I thought you knew I was coming.”

“Well..” he cringes, fiddling with the headphones still in his hands. His face looked even redder. “I… I kind of thought you weren’t going to.”

“Why wouldn’t I come? I told you I’d be here.” you ask, cock your head at him, watch as he turns his console off and places his headphones down on his desk. He seemed nervous and disoriented, like he really wasn’t prepared for any of what he had talked about salaciously into your ear Friday night; you felt silly, suddenly, dressed up and standing expectantly in his bedroom. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken him so seriously. This didn’t seem at all like the man who had you pinned against a brick wall and begging for it just a few nights ago, and instead much more like the shy and gentle Hueningkai you knew much, much better.

“I thought I scared you..” Kai admits with a fake, humorless laugh, his wobbly smile quickly folding down into a grimace as he sinks further into his chair. “This is usually the part where I scare people. They were only half-joking about the whole ‘running away screaming’ thing, you know.”

Your own frown deepens, unsure of what to do or what to say as you watch him pick at his sweatpants, continue to refuse to look you in the eye as he rocks himself back and forth with the swivel of his chair. “I mean, I’m not angry about it, obviously.” he continued, fluffy blond bangs hanging over his face as he stared at the floor. “That would be stupid. A lot of people don’t like this stuff, and that’s fine. I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. It’s okay if I scared you, it really is. I’m sorry I came on so strong Friday, it was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have done it and I was drunk–”

Kai looks up at you for the first time in a while, big brown eyes watery behind his bangs and breaking your heart– he looked so truly guilty, like he had been beating himself up over this for days. Like he had spent the entire weekend pacing and tearing himself to shreds just as you had. You wish he had said something sooner, so you could have told him earlier that he didn’t do anything that you didn’t like, that he startled you but in a way that awakened something in you that you didn’t even know that you had. You wish you had the courage to tell him that he could have done whatever he wanted that night and you would have let him, because while this new side to him made you nervous it didn’t scare you. Hueningkai could never scare you.

It hits you then that there really wasn’t another secret, darker alter to Hueningkai, some frightening Jekyll and Hyde dynamic that your friends had placed into your head. Kai was always Kai, your sweet, perfect, nervous, nerdy, awkward Kai, even when he was saying the nastiest things you had ever heard in your life, and you felt very terrible very suddenly that you had ever doubted your trust in him.

“You don’t scare me, Kai.” You say simply, because you couldn’t get yourself to say anything else. The genuinely shocked look on Kai’s face at your words makes your chest ache.

“Really?” He asks just above a whisper. “I didn’t scare you?”

“No, I… I liked it.” You admit, face heating up. “I liked it, and I want more.”

Kai’s big puppy eyes change in an instant; suddenly he was gazing up at you like a predator, big brown eyes slanted and dark, dripping with a hunger you were frighteningly unfamiliar with. The sudden shift takes you by surprise, ignites a delicious fire in your belly. “Okay then.” Kai says slowly, taking his time easing out of his chair. You don’t miss the big, dizzying bulge in his sweats when he stands up. “Then let’s talk.”

He sits you down on his bed and sits next to you, though a good distance away– you could feel every single inch as Kai nibbles at his lip and bites at his nails, shuffles his feet and looks up at you coyly. “Before we do anything, I just want to hear about your boundaries… is that okay? I don’t want anything to happen that you don’t like. The last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable or hurt you..”

You’re touched, oddly enough, though you’re already jittery and way in over your head– with a quizzical little giggle you ask, “What do you mean by boundaries?”

“Like your hard limits, your soft limits.” Kai explains gently, moving to rest his big hand on the mattress between you. You stare at his long, thick fingers a few beats longer than you meant to. “Things you don’t want me to do to you. Let me know about what to stay away from so this can be enjoyable for both of us.”

You were in no way prepared for this line of questioning; you squirm around in your big coat, cheeks heating up– you were starting to sound like the virgin. “I, um… I don’t really know… I’ve never really done anything like this before– but I want to try it. With you.”

Kai lets out a deep sigh, that hand on the bed raising to push his bangs back from his eyes– pretty brown pupils dark and dripping with honey, such a startling juxtaposition from the sweet soft smile on his plush lips. You stare at him, mesmerized. “Thank you for trusting me to be your first, then.” he says lowly and surprisingly sincere, pink tongue darting out to lick at his thick bottom lip. “If there’s ever a point where you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to tell me, okay? I promise I’ll stop immediately.”

“Okay…” you nod. Your anxiety was diminishing by the minute, being replaced with a tranquil sense of trust– you were certain that only Kai could ever make you feel this safe.

“For boundaries, just follow my lead.” Kai continues. “I’ll list something, and you tell me if you’re okay with it or not, okay?”

“Okay.” you say again, more confidently. Kai grins.

“Good girl. Just say yes or no, okay?”

Good girl, said so flippantly like he did at the bar. You shiver, electrified– you can still feel Kai’s hot breath panting in your ear when he called you that Friday night, that hard thick bulge in his pants you’ve been trying desperately not to look at pushing hard against your ass, teasing you maddingly…

“(Y/N)?” Kai asks softly, sending you reeling back to the present. “Is that okay?”

“Yes! I mean yes, yes that’s okay…”

Kai giggles, eyes scrunching up in that way you adore so much. “Alright then. Can I hit you?”

Oh.

You blink hard, hesitate for a moment. “Hit... me? … Where?”

“Wherever you’d like.” Kai answers with the sweetest and most innocent of smiles. Only his bright red cheeks are giving him away. “I can spank you, if you want. I can slap you. Your face, your tits. Your.. your pussy even, if you’d let me.”

Once again you’re pulled away from reality, flooded with memories all at once from your salacious dreams; being spanked for misbehaving, Huening’s big strong hands ruthless on your soft skin. How it hurt but how you loved it, craved and begged for more… “You can spank me.” You finally get out after a while. “You can spank my p-pussy too… just please be gentle. And I don’t want to be hit anywhere else.”

“That’s perfectly fine, angel. I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Kai soothes in a deep croon, mixing deliciously and dizzyingly with the new pet name and making you rub your thighs together– you can tell that he noticed from the wolfish way that his toothy grin widens. “Do you want me to just use my hand or can I use a toy to spank you?”

The simple idea of being spanked with something other than a hand is enough to make you squirm and hide your face; it was something you had never even thought about before, but now… “You can do both..” you mumble quietly, too embarrassed to meet Kai’s gaze. He gives you an approving hum.

“Can I choke you?”

“Yes.” you answer with little hesitation, taking another quick glance at Kai’s fingers, now pulling at the hem of his hoodie. Kai lets out a huffy ‘oh’ like he had been hit hard in the chest, lost his breath. You can feel the hunger in his stare as it washes over you, the way he undresses you with his eyes– it’s already overwhelming and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Can I tie you up?” Kai continues heavily, deep voice a few octaves lower. You bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

“Yes.”

“Can I pull your hair?” he moves his arm like he was placing his hand back on the bed, but instead firmly grabs your upper thigh– he pushes your coat aside with his thumb so he can caress at your bare skin, and the teasing touch is more than enough to make your voice shake.

“Y-yes.”

“Call you names? Be mean?” His fingers dig into the fat of your inner thigh.

“Yes, yes please..”

The bulge in Kai’s sweats was obscene, straining hard against the fabric as he stroked your thigh, used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes; the way he looked at you was bordering on predatory, like he was going to eat you, so dirty and different than any look he had given you before… your pussy throbs when his thumb brushes softly across your bottom lip. “Oh princess…” Kai coos, sugary sweet, “What am I going to do with you?”

“What are you going to do with me?” you echo timidly, still meek even as you place your hand on his chest.

Kai’s grin turns practically evil, hand brushing higher and higher up your thigh. “I think you deserve a punishment for your behavior Friday, don’t you? Acting so bratty, dressed like a slut…”

The pad of his finger slips under your skirt to ghost over the soaked front of your panties. Your thighs clench hard, trapping his hand between them, and the hand you had placed on his chest grabs a fistfull of his hoodie. “Punish me,” you beg, meek and pathetic; Kai stares at you in what almost seems like disbelief.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks after taking a moment to study your face.

“Yes, please.” you answer, already leaning in to bridge the gap.

Kai kisses you so passionately it takes your breath away, his hands coming to cup your face and grab your hips as he pries your lips apart with his tongue, demanding his way inside. Your hands paw uselessly at his shoulders and neck, Kai swallowing your sweet little whimpers up greedily as he pulls you up onto his lap and tugs at your coat. He only pulls away when you’re both dizzy and begging for air. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for fucking ever…” Kai whispers against your lips, his deep giggle making your legs twitch and tighten around his trim waist– the confession hung heavy in the air, it weighs down your shoulders as you drop your arms to let him peel off your coat and throw it down onto the floor. Words get stuck in your throat as you scramble for something to say… Kai steals them from you with ease, big dark eyes marveling at every inch of your exposed skin, his hands cupping at your hips and breasts, ghosts feathered touches up the exposed skin between your itty bitty skirt and top

“Oh baby…” he huffs, honeyed voice labored and panting. “Fuck, look at you.”

“Do you like it?” you ask with a coy smile.

Hueningkai growls in response, flipping you over onto your back on the bed– he holds himself over you with his hands on either side of your head, pretty lips pulled into the most salacious of smirks as his eyes continue to rake down your body. “Kai…” you whimper, the few inches between your faces feeling like miles.

“No, no, don’t call me that, baby,” he coos, “Call me sir, okay?”

“Yes, sir…” you reply in kind, face hot. Kai gives you another quick kiss in appreciation before pulling himself back up and off of the bed. You whimper at the loss but Kai is quick to shush you, big hand coming up to rub soothing circles into your thigh as he rummages around underneath his bed– where he keeps his toys, you remember with a jolt.

“Turn over ‘n arch your back, can you do that for me? Ass up, gotta teach you a lesson.”

You shudder and follow his directions, bury your face into Hueningkai’s sheets as he gathers his things and settles himself back on the bed behind you; you can feel the bed dip from his weight, feel him place a few things down on the bed side the both of you before he runs his hands up your thighs and waist, across your shoulders and down your arms. In one swift motion he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms taut behind your back, binds them in place with the dull click of biting cold metal– he’s handcuffed you, you realize with a sick start. You’re completely at his mercy now.

“Are they too tight?” Kai asks when you test your restraints, tug at them uselessly; they don’t budge an inch, only cut tighter and tighter into the skin of your wrists with every movement. It’s an alien feeling, being bound like this, but you find yourself enjoying it much more than you thought you would, stoking the fire in your belly. You shake your head no.

“Good.” He says, big hands caressing your hips– he uses his thumbs to push your skirt up over your ass, revealing your cute lace panties. Thumb moving down to slide against your soaking wet slit, he coos, “Such a cute little ass, sweetie; can’t wait to see this cunt.”

You whimper and push back against his hand, making Kai chuckle and rub a quick circle at your clit before tugging your panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You gasp at the sudden shock, cold air hitting at your warm wet core.

Kai sighs like he’s relieved. “God, you’ve got the prettiest pussy, princess… I can’t wait to ruin it.” Without warning, he rears his hand back and slaps you, hard, against your panty-clad cunt. The sting is sharp and mind-numbing, making you cry out, but your voice quickly wavers into a low moan; it hurt like hell but you loved it, the tingling in your fevered skin only serving to make you wetter.

Kais hand then moves to cup and squeeze at your asscheek; you can feel your arousal coating his palm, your pussy so wet you’ve drenched it with just a single spank. “Count for me, okay honey?” Kai croons, gentle. “And say ‘thank you sir’ for every one.”

“Yes, sir…” you whimper, fighting the urge to look over your shoulder back at him as he shuffles around behind you, picking up whatever he had placed aside earlier. You hear a soft ‘good girl’ as he settles himself back into place.

Kai rewards your good behavior with your first proper spank, hard and fast and with a wooden paddle instead of his hand— you cry out, even louder and shriller than before, your hands twisting against the handcuffs as you shy away from Kai’s grasp. “One!” you huff out, winded, completely unprepared; Kai tuts, condescending.

“One, what? What did I say you call me? Be a big girl and use your words now.”

“One, thank you sir!” you correct yourself quickly, thighs already quivering.

He spanks you again on the other cheek, this time harder; you shriek at the sharp pain of the paddle, but it quickly morphs into a broken moan. The paddle elicited pain in a way you had never felt before, could hardly describe, the shocking sting reverberating through your entire body and coalescing in your mind, leaving you breathless and unable to focus on anything other than Kai’s big hand running soothingly down the small of your back, the leather of the paddle ghosting over your flushed skin teasingly. “Two, thank you sir!” you whimper.

To your disappointment, Kai only hums. This time he gives you not a second to prepare yourself before the paddle comes down again, catching the meat of your upper thigh. It hurts so bad it makes your eyes water, your mouth stuck open in a drooly, silent scream. Your cunt throbbed. “Tell me you’re a whore.” Kai demands, voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a whore.” you stutter out, wobbly voice barely above a whisper.

Two ear-ringing spanks land hard on your bruising ass, one after another on the exact same spot. Kai’s long fingers catching the very top of your inner thigh— you’re unable to control the shrill shriek that erupts from your parted, panting lips, watery with unshed tears. “Louder.” Kai spits, grabbing a tight fistful of your hair. “Let everyone hear what you are.”

“T-three, four! I’m a whore!” you cry out, your head spinning, your thoughts fragmented. You’ve been broken entirely, you fear, somewhere in the back of your mind. Broken and ruined and never the same again. The thought doesn’t scare you as much as you thought it would. “I’m a whore, sir, thank you!”

“Good girl,” Kai coos, a little condescending. He seemed to enjoy watching you break just as much as you enjoyed being broken. “Just one more, okay?”

He caresses your swollen asscheek with a surprising tenderness, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the burning flesh. Your cunt is so wet that rivulets of slick had begun to drip down your thighs, and by the harsh intake of breath you hear behind you you’re sure that Kai has noticed.

You brace for the spank, face buried in Kai’s sheets, but still your body shook with pain and pleasure as he lands it, vicious and aggressive, right over your throbbing cunt. The spank stung like nothing you had ever felt before, harder than the others before it, the pain reverberating through your core and making you hiccup pathetically— you’re floating, your fragmented and silenced thoughts somewhere far away, but the gentle hand on your hip grounds you back into Kai’s sheets, back into the moment as your body aches and yearns for more. “Five!” you finally manage to spit out, your cheeks wet with tears you weren’t aware you had shed. “Thank you, sir!”

Your punishment ends and it’s like a switch flips in Kai; his hands smooth over your hips and thighs, so so gentle in caressing the blistering globes of your ass.”Such a good girl girl, took your punishment so well…” He croons, pressing feather light kisses to your shoulder blades. “Knew you could do it, my perfect girl. So proud. Are you ready for more?”

“Please,” you pant, chest heaving. You hardly recognize your own voice.

Huening’s breath hitches at your answer, his hips stuttering as he presses them up against your ass. The fabric of his pants scratches deliciously against your pussy, the thick shaft of his cock rock hard and straining, slotted perfectly between your quivering folds— your skin tingles from the kiss he presses against the back of your neck, gentle and chaste. “Such a good girl deserves a reward, doesn’t she?” he purrs into your ear, his warm chest molded to your sweaty back. “What do you want, princess?”

“You.” you beg, sob. “You, please, sir.”

Your answer makes Kai growl roughly into your hair, buck his hips quick and desperate against your ass. His white-knuckle grip on your hips makes your head spin, only growing tighter. “Fuck. You want me? Want my cock? Whatever you want, baby, shit.”

The bed creaks when Kai gets off, his deep little chuckle reverberating through your body. Missing his touch, you roll over onto your back to watch him as he digs through his nightstand drawer, the raw skin of your ass stinging when they brush up against his sheets. Kai giggles triumphantly when he finds a condom, quick to tear the foil with his teeth, and the sweet, innocent noise is almost enough of a distraction from his long fingers pulling down his waistband. His cock slaps up against his belly obscenely when fully freed, flushed pink and twitching, flared mushroom tip leaking tantalizing pearls of precum— you bite your lip to hold in your gasp, cunt clenching around nothing at the sight.

“Why are you looking at me like that..?” Kai laughs, his blonde bangs shading his blushing cheeks as he sheepishly lowers his gaze to the ground. It would be like him, you think, to be embarrassed in a moment like this. He looks so sexy you could cry.

“I… I don’t think it’ll fit..” you admit in a whisper, thighs shaking.

“Oh baby,” Kai coos, sugary sweet, that hesitant nervousness melting into something darker, more alluring. You watch him roll the condom over his thick, leaking cock with bated breath and a throbbing core. “I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.

Kai moves too quickly for you to react, grabbing at your ankle and pulling you down the bed with shocking ease— with his other hand he tugs your panties the rest of the way off of your legs, frees your thighs so they can wrap around his trim waist as he brings your hips together in a delicious clash of skin. His cockhead slides up your slit and knocks hard against your swollen and soaking clit when he pries your legs apart over his shoulders, pushes your knees to your chest to spread you out fully for his view. He stares at your throbbing pussy in rapture, wide eyes with blown pupils making you squirm and fight the urge to hide behind your hands.

“God, you’re so wet,” Kai breaths, sliding two fingers between your folds, spreading around the mess of slick— soon he has them pistoning hard in and out of your hole, scissoring them apart and stretching your quivering gummy walls so perfect, rubbing up against all of your neglected sweet spots as you moan Huening’s name. Your pussy gushes with the lewdest wet sounds, nasty enough to make your ears burn. “Wettest cunt I’ve ever seen. Gotta stretch you so I can fit, yeah?”

“Don’t need it!” you gasp, tugging at the handcuffs still keeping your arms snug behind your back. You want more than anything to touch, to guide Kai to where you need him the most. You don’t know how much more teasing you can take. “I don’t need it, just need you… just fuck me!”

Kai pulls his fingers out, leaves your hole gaping and fluttering as he lines his cock up— his cockhead feels impossibly big pushing up against your entrance, so close it’s threatening to slip inside. “Come on, princess,” Kai teases, rolling his hips. “Good whores say please, don’t they?”

“Please!” you beg, desperate and whiny. You’ve never needed a cock this badly in your entire life. “Fuck me, sir, please!”

Kai lets out the prettiest broken moan, sheathing himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He gives you no time to adjust, immediately settling into a punishing rhythm pounding you into the mattress. You’re immediately overwhelmed in the best possible way, your staccato moans echoing off of the walls.

“B-big!” you hiccup, eyes rolling back from the onslaught of pleasure. His thick cock so deep you can feel him in your belly, so stretched out you fear that he would tear you in half, his fat cockhead knocking at your cervix with every thrust and sending wave after wave of euphoria. His intensity leaves you breathless, unable to think or hardly speak, each thrust surrendering you deeper into the throws of submission and desire. “Too big!”

“‘Too big?’” Kai mocks, his hips unrelenting. “Am I too big for your little cunt, baby? After you were begging for my cock like a little slut?”

You can’t reply, can’t do anything other than moan and cry as Kai splits you open. Kai seems to like that quite a bit.

“Being’ fucked so good you can’t speak? Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re so hot. Been wanting this forever, you have no idea—“ Kai’s rambling, pretty face flushed pink and his brown puppy eyes so dark and wild; he seemed completely lost in the feeling of you, so ruthless let unfocused as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. You had forgotten you were even still wearing it. “You’re mine now, you hear? Pussy’s all mine. Never— fuck, never letting you go.”

He pulls your top up to bunch at your armpits, your plush tits spilling out to meet Kai’s hungry gaze. Your perky nipples harden from the cold air, flushed and begging to be touched; Kai can’t seem to help but stare in rapture as they bounce with each of his thrusts, his tongue falling out of his panting mouth like a hungry dog. “Pretty tits,” he pants, reaching up to gently slap one of your breasts— he groans at the jiggle, the way you whimper when his palm meets your sensitive flesh. “I’ve always— I’ve always loved your tits.”

He captures your pert bud between his lips, hot wet tongue marking the skin he had just slapped; he’s so rough with it, nibbling and sucking bruises, pinching and twisting the one not in his mouth between his thumb and forefinger— the sensations combined with Kai’s quickening hips, his unbelievable words drives you to the brink of ecstasy, your shrill cries deafening even in your own ears. “Kai—sir!” you beg tearfully, but you’re not sure what for. “Sir, please, please—!”

“Shut up.” Kai hisses, pulling away from your nipple with a wet pop. His hand moves from your overstimulated breast to encircle your throat, grip tight, fingers squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch and your vision fuzzy, ignite your senses— you gasp in shock, your hazy eyes blown wide, his grip adding a delicious edge to your arousal, his words churning hot in your belly… your pussy spasms around Kai’s cock, gummy walls sucking him in impossibly deeper as you finally let the pleasure overtake you.

“I’m gonna cum!” you bleat, your chest heaving, his fist still clasped so perfectly tight around your throat. “Kai, I’m gonna, I—“

“Shh, princess,” Kai laughs breathlessly, his voice cracking and his hips stuttering. His grip loosens, hand coming to rub electrifying circles against your clit. “Gonna cum all over this cock? Fuck— I’m gonna cum too, baby, feels so good! Gonna— wish I fucked you raw, wish I could fill you up… cum with me, okay? Come together with me—!”

You can’t take his words— hot fire in your belly roars, engulfing your entire being, and you’re sent over the edge in a symphony of pleasure. Kai follows close behind with a beautiful whiny moan, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills up the condom. Part of you wishes he had fucked you raw as well, could feel his hot seed paint your walls and fill your belly.

Maybe another time, you supposed.

As you catch your breath, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared orgasm, Kai tenderly caresses your waist, surprisingly hesitant and gentle in contrast to all of his touches before. His melted chocolate eyes meet yours, filled with passion and desire and something a little more. “That was…”

“Amazing.” you finish, a blissful smile gracing your lips.

“Can.. can we do that again?” Kai asks eagerly. “Not now, but like. Later. All of the time? We should do that all of the time. Can I take you out on a date sometime?”

taglist: @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @takemehye, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi, @numxra, @soobinsbuns, @taegimood, @jeniihss, @soobabby, @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz, @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie, @ttaesoob, @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr, @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari, @lurking-coconut, @horanghaelovr, @urstylezx , @mini-mews , @givethnofucketh , @ladyartemesia, @allisonistrashh, @nxlvvr, @lurking-coconut

#ɱเµρσω𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ౨ৎ #k-labels #hueningkai x reader #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #hueningkai smut #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai hard thoughts #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios

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onlyswan · 10 months

Text

summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn’t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.��

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “she really likes things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for her birthday.”

“be honest with me. does she even know you’re courting her?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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