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pennyellee · 3 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngr - @mizuumii @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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littlemisshyperfixation · 4 days

Text

Jungkook Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Series

Home (f s a)

One Shots

forget me not (a f) ⊹₊⋆ The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before. Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

champagne confetti (a s) ⊹₊⋆ You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

bottle up old love (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

cabin fever (f s a) ⊹₊⋆ trapped in a cabin with your ex-best friend jungkook, you’re forced to overcome the fallout between you two.

romantic dreams (s a) ⊹₊⋆ he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.

Guilty Pleasures (a s) ⊹₊⋆ Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

Better Boyfriend Than Him (a s) ⊹₊⋆ jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

strictly platonic (f a s) ⊹₊⋆ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

#bts #bts x reader #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

(Oh My) Bunny-Baby 🔞

In which Jungkook had long lost hope to find someone sweet as you.

Tags/Warnings: Bunny Hybrid!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, major fluff, romance, Flirting, they're in love, also very horny towards the end oops, car sex, sloppy handjob, lots of... fluids, squirting aka champagne confetti wink wink, multiple orgasms, some aftercare?, idk it's something

Length: oneshot, I'll count later

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> You can request drabbles if you want.

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"Come on in- just, be a little quiet, I've got my new coworker over." Jimin chuckles, making Jungkook look at him scandalized- since Jimin, technically, has a girlfriend.

"Ah no, not like that." He waves off, walking in after they both taken off their shoes. "A waterpipe broke in her bedroom, so now she's crashing on my couch for the time being." He explains, putting a finger to his lips as they enter the living room area, where Jungkook spots your body underneath a blanket, clearly asleep.

What peaks his attention though, are the very obvious bunny ears on your head, only partially covered by your hair.

Bunny hybrids aren't common at all, nowadays, due to them ending up mixing with humans more often than not- so much so, that until now, Jungkook has never met another 'pure' bunny hybrid of the opposite sex before, ever. "Just sit down there- she sleeps like a rock, so don't worry too much about waking her." Jimin laughs, easily sitting down in a seat across from where you sleep, while Jungkook carefully takes the spot next to where your head is resting. From here, he's got an even better view of you- and you're just.. so cute.

Though he feels himself short-circuiting the moment you move, nose scrunching up a bit as you move your leg, blanket now slipping a little to reveal the softest looking bunny tail he's ever seen. That, combined with your ear twitching while you dream, makes him wonder about things he never really thought of before. He absentmindedly reaches to touch his own ear, trying to see if they're just as soft as yours look. Are they? He's not sure. He's so close to you he could just see for himself, especially when you move a little more, head leaning against his thigh, ears laying over it- but he knows how much he hates having his ears touched constantly, so he doesn't.

That would just be rude.

"Do you know a cheap place where she can stay? Sine my partner is a wolf hybrid, you know.." Jimin wonders, sighing. "Here, that's the sketches by the way." He offers, giving a few papers to Jungkook who takes them. "Oh! Or, since you're both the same species, maybe she could stay with you? You still have the pull-out couch right?"

"Yeah!" Jungkook answers, while you seem to finally wake up, slowly sitting upright, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Great!" Jimin misunderstands the rabbit boy's answer. "Hey, bunny? Jungkookie over here has an empty couch you can stay on." He tells you, who's ears slowly stand up, before you look over at the shoulder of the other bunny hybrid- head slowly lifting to look at the wide open eyes of the buck next to you. "He's easy to be around, don't worry." Jimin jokes.

"Oh?" You wonder, noticing Jungkook's black ears turned towards you as well, giving you all information you need for the moment. "Tha's nice of you." You slur sleepily, yawning before you stretch. "Thank you." You smile, and Jungkook is officially without any brain activity at all for the moment.

Especially when you lean your head to the side a bit, ears flopping over, still clearly drowsy from sleep.

"Uh.. yeah!" Jungkook snaps out of it, ripping his eyes away from you, though he hears you giggle a little to yourself, causing his tail to wiggle without his control of it. He honestly didn't mean to agree to something like this- hell, his apartment isn't even remotely tidied up, there's probably dishes in the sink and his laundry all over the place- but in some odd way, he also can't pass up the opportunity of a lifetime, basically; because you're so pretty, and-

wait, he doesn't even know if you have a boyfriend. Do you? And if you do, why is he not helping you out in a time like this? He knows he would've offered you to stay at his home right away if something was up. That's just common sense.

"I'll go get my stuff.." You mumble, slowly getting up to stretch one last time- bunny tail wiggling around as you groan, giving Jungkook pretty much whiplash from the sight alone, before you walk away into the bathroom, probably to shower and wake up properly.

"She's cute, huh?" Jimin teases, catching Jungkook staring after you. "Doesn't have a boyfriend from what I know. And she's a bunny too." He wiggles his eyebrows, while Jungkook shakes his head.

"So?" He huffs. "Doesn't mean we're like.. destined or something. I'm just gonna help her out- and after that, we'll go back to being strangers anyways." He simply says, shrugging it off. After all, he's tried relationships before- and they all somehow always failed because of him in some way, making him believe that at this point, he just isn't fit for simple relationships.

He can't help his instincts, and neither can he help his.. needs either.

So when he takes the sketches home to work on, and helps carry your bag for you- he doesn't get his hopes up for something changing, because down the line, maybe that'll protect him from the inevitable heartbreak when you leave just like he fears you will.

Just like everyone else did before.

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Inside his apartment, you're clearly finally properly awake now, curiously following him as he shows you around, before he leaves you in his small living room to fetch some sheets and blankets for you to put on the couch.

It's clear that he lives alone, apartment a bit.. lifeless almost, not much screaming home at you from what you can see. Apart from a sweater thrown over a chair at the open kitchenette, and a few dishes in the sink, it looks like any ordinary single-guy household.

Interesting. Especially the fact that his home only smells of himself and no one else. Doesn't he have a partner?

That wouldn't make sense. He's basically the perfect buck.

"It's a bit.. uh, I know this will look like it's broken but it's not-" He defends, rubbing the back of his neck after he put the blankets and sheets on one side of the couch, leaning down to pull on the lower edge of the front of the couch. "-it's just.. urgh- old!" He grits, using a good amount of strength to pull out the part that snaps back up into place, ultimately turning the small couch into a bed with good amount of space on it.

You can't help but stare wide eyed however, not at the furniture- but rather the clear display of strength of his, arms showing off their muscles even while covered mostly by his plain white t-shirt. You can't help it- after all, it's instincts.

Snapping out of it when you notice him looking at you in question, you shake those thoughts off for the moment, hands behind your back while you sway on your legs a little. "Uh.. I didn't listen, sorry. What did you say?" You ask, caught a bit in your staring contest between you and his thighs having multiplied twice their size from the way he's sitting on his heels on the floor.

"I asked if you.. if that blanket is enough, or if you want a thicker one?" He offers. "I have a spare one with feather filling if you'd like.." He wonders, and you nod instantly.

You like thick blankets and bedding a lot- it makes for great nesting material, and gives you a sense of comfort while asleep.

He smiles in a friendly manner, before he fetches said blanket, taking a bit longer to put a cover over it, before he brings it to the couch you're already on all fours on, tucking the sheets into the corners properly, and he can't help but watch you a little. He himself doesn't really nest, and since he's never met a female bunny hybrid before, he's never actually seen one making a nest, except for in movies and TV shows. So, seeing you so naturally do it, makes him wonder.

How much of what he heard and seen about female bunny hybrids is actually true- and how much is just romanticized fiction?

After all, he as a male bunny hybrid is often watered down to nothing but a good lover in bed- but once those people get into an actual relationship, and realize that it's not just fun and games but a need of his that he'd have fulfilled every day of the week if possible, he quickly becomes too much to handle.

And so, most of the time, everything always falls apart because he's too needy. Too demanding. Too high maintenance. Too tough to.. satiate.

"Here." He carefully offers the bedding to you, and you smile, happily taking it with a 'thank you' from your side. He's a bit awkward now- unsure if you'd like him to stay or not. "Do you… should I leave?" He asks, unsure.

"No?" You answer, shaking your head. "This is your home after all. Why should you leave?" You giggle, unaware of Jungkook's inner troubles with the whole situation. He sits down on the edge of the bed so he stays out of the way, while you position some pillows and the other blanket how you want, eventually settling on the thick feather-filled quilt, hugging it it as you look at him arms and legs wrapped around the thick fluffy bedding.

"I.. uhm, I've never actually met a doe before, so I'm not sure how to really act." He admits, and you nod, lips parted in an 'o'-shape as you realize his dilemma.

"That's fine." You simply say. "We're kinda rare after all, I only ever really met another buck like.. a few years back? And he was an asshole, so you're already doing a lot better than him!" You joke, though he can spot some truth behind your words, worrying him what might've happened in the past. "So, Jiminie gave you sketches, right?" You ask, and he nods, happy over the finally flowing conversation. "What's that about?" You ask.

"I'm a tattoo artist." He says, pulling up the sleeve of his white shirt way over his shoulder, showing off his inked arm, making you lean closer to gain a better look, ears fully turned towards him now in interest. "I designed all of them myself, for example." He offers, chuckling when you tilt your head to look at something in a different angle.

"Oh, they're so cool!" You praise, before leaning back again. "I wanna have a tattoo too, but, I don't know.. people told me I shouldn't, cause it wouldn't suit me.." You mumble, leaning back into the comfort of the bedding.

"I mean, it depends what you'd want?" He shrugs. "I could for sure come up with something more delicate maybe?" He wonders, mind already trying to imagine some art underneath your skin right now.

"Heh, you wanna mark me up?" You flirt boldly, catching him off guard at your innuendo. "I'm just kidding. You're cute!" You compliment, before you curl up in your little nest once more. "...though.." you mumble, looking at him dangerously from underneath your lashes.

...though?" He asks, breathes out almost carefully.

"Though I wouldn't mind you cuddling me, to be honest." You giggle into the quilt, cheeks tinted softly. "You look like you give great cuddles." You say, and he laughs a bit bashfully to himself.

"I mean- maybe?" He shrugs, unsure. He's not really.. cuddled much before, every touch of his always having been taken as either an invitation or demand even when it wasn't either- so at some point in his life, he just stopped even thinking about it. What would make you different from them?

And what does he really have to lose, down the line?

You're Jimin's coworker. If you and Jungkook don't work out, there's no awkwardness really, to be fair. You'd just part ways, and that would be it, and since you're both clearly adults, nothing speaks against it.

"Shouldn't we.. maybe get to know each other more?" He wonders carefully, testing the waters. And your next words make him wonder if you could really truly be a new start for him.

"Why? It's only cuddling." You huff. "It's not like I wanna go to phase two just because you touch me." You joke.

And while he does smile at it, it's not a joke to him.

It's much more than that.

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"Heeh, whatcha cooking?" You ask, dipping underneath his arm to catch a glimpse at the pot he's stirring, making him instinctively reach out to pull you back so you don't look inside and hurt yourself.

"Ramen- but it's spicy, so you might not like it." He chuckles, remembering how you told him last night at a movie you watched together that you don't tolerate spicy things very well. Most buny hybrids dont- but he grew up with it, so maybe that's why he can stomach it very well.

The movie you watched yesterday had only been background noise to be honest, because you were rather occupied getting to know each other better, just like Jungkook had suggested. He now knows that you moved here after a bad relationship break up lead to you wanting a new fresh start somewhere else, while you learned that Jungkook used to work at an internet Cafe for a while until he could finally land a spot at Min Yoongis tattoo studio.

You've warmed up to each other quite quickly- and not just over shared life experiences and problems you'd laugh over together.

"But I'm hungry." You tell him, looking upwards at his face that's watching you as well. "Can I use your kitchen to make myself something?" You wonder, and he smiles, laughing.

"I can cook one extra. I have a mild chicken one in here- would you like that?" He asks, and you nod, reaching for it- though he's holding it too far away. "I said I'm making it." He jokingly scolds. "You go wait, it'll take maybe twenty minutes or so." He explains, though you just turn around and...

Hug him?

"Heeh, you're so warm!" You giggle, unable to really resist at least trying to hug him once- when a hand sets itself onto your back, holding you close while he continues cooking. He just smells so nice, and he is so nice in general that you just involuntarily get attached already.

You're a bunny hybrid after all. You crave affection, need attention.. and much more than that, but this part, you've learned to control. It throws people off how clingy and needy you are, it's something you learned the hard way- and you're hoping that you won't screw it up with Jungkook.

Cause you really like him already. Might go as far as to say you've got a terrible crush.

"Am I bothering you?" You ask meekly but he shakes his head, a surprised expression on his face.

"No, I'd tell you if you did." He answers, and at that, your eyes sparkle in wonder, head resting against his chest. Words like that mean the world to you- because thar means you won't just unknowingly make him uncomfortable until he gets rid of you. He'll tell you first, so you can change.

"Thank you." You simply say-

And he wonders what you must've experienced in the past to be so grateful of simple communication like that.

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"So, you're staying with Jungkook now?" Namjoon, a bear hybrid across from you asks- and you nod.

"Hmhm, he's really nice." You compliment, and Jungkook feels his cheeks start to get hotter at your praise. He's got a terrible problem and it's only four days in of you both knowing each other-

Because his body is clearly reacting to your scent being all over his apartment and all over him.

He can't help it, it's quite frankly embarrassing how often he has to shower and try and relieve himself somewhat quietly so you won't notice- ache in his body now worse than ever before, with you as a doe so close around him all the time. You're clearly in your prime, and so is he- bodies communicating that desire constantly without either of your control.

And unbeknownst to him, you're very aware of his dilemma. He's not exactly as quiet as he thinks he is.

In that department, you pride yourself in being a lot more secretive- he probably hasn't even noticed that you got yourself off right in your nest in the living room, because you, compared to him, can be quiet.

Well, but he knows. Because while you might not make much sound, your scent left on your bedding speaks louder than you could ever scream. And it's torture.

"So, you both?" Jimin raises his brows suggestively, making Jungkook shakes his head bashfully. "Heh, why not? You're already so cute together!" He whines, always so passionate about his best friend finally finding that special someone.

Namjoon sighs and scolds the younger friend, before he looks at you. "I'm sorry, he can be a bit too bold sometimes." He says, and you just wave it off.

"No its fine, I understand." You say, before going back to eating.

You're awfully quiet the rest of the night, seemingly rather low on energy. It's something Jungkook notices with slight worry, fearing you might be coming down with something- unaware that it's both your social batteries running low, and also the fact that, naturally, bunny hybrids tend to kind of shrink in on themselves if they're without affection for too long.

And for you, it's been a long time since someone cared for you in a more intimate way.

But he doesn't connect the dots yet, rather offers to go home with you a bit earlier, to get you into bed so you can rest properly.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

You're surprisingly visiting often and regularly, even after returning to your now renovated home.

You seek him out actively, ask often for his opinion on things or if he wants to hang out- and he's thriving, energy at an all time high. It's something that everyone at the tattoo shop notices too, constantly picking on the rabbit hybrid- but he couldn't care less.

Because last night, you told him you liked him. Like, liked him a lot. You got a crush on him.

And it makes him all giddy with excitement, causes him to whistle as he cleans up his workspace to finally go home and welcome you back to his apartment for some takeout and cuddles- because that's something that you do often as well.

It's like the only quality sleep he has these days is only when he sleeps together with you. And not even in a sexual sense whatsoever.

You gently turn him whenever he falls into a bad position during his sleep that makes him snore- instead of telling him that he's annoying and disrupting your rest. You cling onto him, you're nuzzling into his neck, you scent him- and he loves every second of it, soaks up your affectionate attention like a sponge.

You're just so cute, and perfect for him- he can't help but fall for you. And knowing that you did too- just makes it all feel like a fairytale come true.

Though, in his car, things don't go quite as.. tame as he expected it to.

Not that he complains.

You're on his lap in the driver's seat as he'd parked his car at an empty parking lot out of sight of the main road, clinging to him, kissing him just as eagerly as he does you. It's desperate, open mouths stealing each other's breath away, his teasing bites to your lip making you whimper. "Please-" you softly cry, looking at him with pleading eyes. "-I'm starving.!" You complain, and he laughs.

The moment you're both in the backseat of his car, he wastes no time- using the sweater and shirt he pulls off his upper body in one go to throw them against the door so your head is supported, before he leans down to kiss you again. He can't get enough, not of you, and not of this moment-

Because down the line, he's equally as touch-starved as you are.

There's no time nor need for words as his hands push beneath your clothes, exploring what he finds beneath with eager palms, skin warm to the touch. You're squirming in place, needy for more than he gives right now- and he decides that patience can go fuck itself, because he needs you.

The moment he unveils your lower body to his eyes is the moment he just knows he can't control himself, hand instantly reaching between your legs to play with you, get you ready. "How have you been like this, huh?" He chuckles, jokes, as you squirm and roll your hips into his hand. "Poor baby, suffering in silence when I'm right here." He breathes out, sensitive core so desperate you don't need much to come undone for the first time.

While you catch your breath, he uses that time to search for a condom in his car- finding one in his wallet, thankfully, before he covers his length that you're already reaching for.

"Next time." He reassures your disappointed face as you realize he's not gonna let you return the favor. "Right now I need you." He instead explains, before he guides the head of his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes inside.

Your head is finally empty, no thoughts rushing any longer, the only thing on your mind the feeling of him filling you up.

You don't care if you're needy, or clingy, or too demanding- right now you want all he has to offer, as your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer.

And closer he gets, leaning down to capture your lips once more before his hips start to move.

The sounds you make must be nothing shy of pornographic, but you don't spare any mind to it- instead letting your eyes roll back as he picks up his pace, testing your limits to see what you need, and what you can take. And much to his personal pleasure, it seems like you're a perfect fit-

Not just in any other way already.

Your tail must be soaked in your slick at this point, ring of foamy white decorating the base of his length as he keeps up his rhythm, skin smacking against skin loudly in the small space of the car. Any bystander outside probably knows exactly what's going on-

And he couldn't care less.

An almost growling sound escapes him when he feels you clench in your upcoming orgasm, thighs trembling against his body as you cry out, white hot pleasure making you blind and deaf for a second, while his hips stutter, one final push all it takes for him to snap-

As he pulls out your soaked cunt, pulling the condom off to instead close your legs and bring himself to his finish that way, white strings of cum covering your naked front, even up to your shirt that he's pushed way up high to reveal your bouncing chest to his eyes.

He's breathing heavily together with you, as he notices the scene he finds himself in.

The windows of the car are all fogged up, and it's stuffy inside, smell of sex filling the entirety of the space, leather of the seats squeaking slightly as he adjusts his position. Your most recent experience of pleasure covers his thighs and seats, but he doesn't mind, he can only laugh to himself absolutely starstruck.

He's never experience something like this before.

He's never had any sexual encounter where he felt this satisfied after, no lingering appetite left for the moment, as he helps you out of your shirt to use it to wipe your body somewhat clean- his cum having stained the fabric already anyways.

The second he notices you shivering he helps you into a sitting position after cleaning you between your legs too- or at least drying your skin, before he wipes the seats. "I uh.." you mumble, staring at the mess you've made. "...that's new." You say, and he laughs, looking at you with eyes full of stars.

"I know." He answers, making you beam back with an equally love-filled gaze, shy laughter breaking the awkward aftermath of your first time.

And that's when he knew-

You're it for him.

For now and forever.

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

"Jungkoooook~?" You sing, hanging somewhat upside down off his bed- when he walks into the bedroom, freshly showered.

"Whaaaaat~?" He parrots back in a similar tone, walking to the closet to get a shirt and pants.

"Do you love me?" You wonder, and he laughs, slipping the shirt over his head.

"Of course." He instantly answers without thinking.

"Do you really love me?" You ask, and he turns around now, looking at you with suspicion.

"...You're gonna ask me to drive you to that one specific place where they sell those giant milkshakes again, aren't you?" He accuses, and you giggle.

"I mean, do you reeeaaally love me?" You jokingly ask, and at that he squats down in front of you to kiss your upside-down lips with a smile.

"Of course I do." He answers. "So much so that I'll drive you there, even though you're gonna have a stomachache from all the food again."

"That was once!" You call out as he puts on his sweatpants having now sat up. "Or maybe twice.. okay if we count last Tuesday maybe three times but that-"

"Doesn't count, I know." He finishes his sentence for you, closing the closet before he leans his hands on the bed, lips catching yours to shut you up for a second.

But as he leans back to look at you, there's a new desire in your eyes.

"You know.. now that I think of it.." you mumble quietly, hands toying with the strings of his sweats. "I'm hungry for something else.." you bat your lashes at him, and he smirks at that, leaning his head to the side while he watches your lips.

"I wonder what that might be." He grins, licking his lips as you lean onto your back, his body now crawling over you.

"Guess you better find out." You tell him, hands already pulling down the hem of his pants slowly.

"Guess I have to." He shrugs, letting you undress him, trip to the far away diner long forgotten.

Because who needs to eat out when you've got the best dinner at home?

•━━━━━♡━━━━•.🐇.•━━━━━♡━━━━━━•

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine

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bunkoos-mole-enthusiast · 2 months

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Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs:

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors :) Five Dates: "Ten dates," he nods, smile tugging at his lips. "Ten dates to decide if you want this - want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates," he says, oddly soft, "to fall in love with me." Arranged marriage au. https://kpopfanfictrash.tumblr.com/post/166768020996/five-dates Ruin The Friendship: Your drunk ass best friend keeps calling you to take care of him and it wouldn't be so awful, if it weren't for "The Feelings". https://kpopfanfictrash.tumblr.com/post/174010698821/ruin-the-friendship-m

Learning The Hard Way: Jungkook’s determined to prove to you he’s not a kid. https://littlemisskookie.tumblr.com/post/182697215738/learning-the-hard-way

Nock & Loaded: You should be resting before your big match at the Olympics, but can you say no when those eyes are asking you to practice with him one more time? https://lavienjin.tumblr.com/post/661045479260471296/nock-loaded-jjk

Boredom, Disinterest & Intimidation: Jungkook’s in that suit and he’s bored and you’re not impressed by much… except for him. https://likeastarstar.tumblr.com/post/663875273134161920/boredom-disinterest-intimidation

Banana Milk: Sent to the grocery store in the middle of the day, you’d never believe who you ran into in the milk aisle. https://kimnjss.tumblr.com/post/615062988760727552/banana-milk-jjk

Hit It/Forget It: Finally able to unwind for the first time in forever, you go to a friend’s party. Only somewhere along the way you find yourself in bed with someone you swore you’d never sleep with. It’s too bad he’s not in any hurry to let you hit it, and forget it. https://www.tumblr.com/ki-yomii/706800264175321088/hit-itforget-it-jjk-pairing-jeon-jungkook-x?source=share Careful: You should always be careful what you ask for. https://www.tumblr.com/ki-yomii/731200844287066112/careful-jjk?source=share Down On You: It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all. https://www.tumblr.com/ki-yomii/740811081832890368/down-on-you-jjk?source=share

Champagne Confetti: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans. https://margotw10bis.tumblr.com/post/735214831885565952/champagne-confetti-jjk-m

#bts jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts imagines

762 notes · View notes

highvern · 6 months

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Aphrodite

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning

Warnings: bathroom sex, kissing, groping, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), cumshot, Mingyu is still obsessed with titties, hair pulling, choking (hand around throat but no breath play), doggy style, unprotected sex (not endorsed by author), praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, there's a little bit of fluff/angst at the beginning (care/comfort) because she had a hard day at work, porn with feelings

Length: ~3k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's bathroom scene mentioned in Discovery! the first third is so cute i actually had to close my laptop and step away while editing it so please enjoy my brain rot lol. its implied reader is on birth control and Mingyu knows it but still wrap it before you tap it guys. This was drafted as "Champagne Confetti" but i couldn't post it with that title with a straight face

ALSO stream Mamamoo Wheein's new album In the Mood! Aphrodite was a huge inspiration for the sweeter parts of this fic

read more here

The knob of your bathroom cabinet is digging into Mingyu’s shoulder uncomfortably and his ass freezing on the hard tile, but neither register in his mind much. His sole focus is on listening to you vent about how shitty work was as you wash up behind the flimsy curtain only a few feet away.

“Oh and then she had the audacity to say I should have been more prepared for the meeting! As if she didn’t send me the info an hour before!” You babble, head popping out to look at him.

Mingyu tries and fails to stifle the laughter bubbling at the sight of your shampoo Mohawk.

“What a bitch!”

“Right?!” You move back into the spray and out of sight.

“She’s just mad because you’re better at her job than she is.”

“I wouldn’t be if she actually did her job.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“‘s not your fault Gyu.”

“Do you want me to beat her up?”

“Yeah, because sending my gigantic ass boy toy after her is gonna get her off my back.” You call, closing your eyes as foam rinses from your hair down your skin.

“The correct term is boyfriend.”

“The correct term is baby daddy.”

“You’re fucking nasty.”

“You love me.”

God, I do.

But it’s too early to say those words with the level of earnestness he feels so Mingyu bites his tongue.

Steam and lavender soap tickle his senses as you wash away the evidence of your previous distress. Your manager is number one on Mingyu’s incredibly short shit list.

Mingyu had barely waltzed through the door of your apartment after work, excited to spend the evening cuddled on the couch with a movie like you do every Thursday. He nearly shit himself when he found you sitting at the kitchen counter, tears staining your face and eyes rimmed red. You dove into his chest and cried for an over hour, unable to speak as wretched sobs escaped your throat. He’s never felt so helpless as he sat there, stroking your back as he held you, whispering gentle affirmations into your hair. It was his idea for you to hop in the shower once you calmed down enough to assure him you weren’t injured and “no, no one died.”

The entire time, Mingyu sat close by listening intently, chiming in occasionally with agreements. He hadn’t follow you into the stall, void of the desire to worsen your mood. Shared showers were not a favorite in this household. Either it ended after two minutes to move to the bed or one of you hopped out, annoyed that the other was hogging the hot water and leaving them in the cold. Mingyu wanted you to relax but the only way he could relax was to make sure you’re actually okay. Which is why he is planted on the ground near the door like a guard dog, keeping an eye on you in case the tears returned; numb butt and sore shoulder be damned.

The squeak of the faucet signals the end of your bathing, echoed by the ruffle of the curtain as you push it aside to exit the tub. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, a smile spreading at the glow radiating from the apples of your cheeks void of the earlier splotchy dullness. You already look a million times better than when he entered your home.

Mingyu is trying very hard to be a supportive boyfriend while you continue to rant; but it’s challenging when the actual woman of his dreams is standing only feet away, completely nude and soaking wet, skin flushed from scrubbing and glistening in the warm glow of the light above the mirror. It takes all his might to ignore the swell of your breast and gentle the sway of your hips, or the curve of your thighs as you stretch for your towel on the rack above the toilet. The movement sends droplets falling in staccato from your hair plastered against your head onto your shoulder before trailing down your front, tracing dizzying patterns across your skin. His very own Aphrodite, exiting the sea to fill his heart.

“I hope she gets fired soon. I know I didn’t look like an idiot in that meeting, it was all her.”

“No one thinks you’re an idiot.” He looks down at his hands playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt to distract himself from how you start twisting to towel off, body bending and stretching suggestively as you concentrate.

“She definitely does but who cares.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually.” You smile, towel wrapped around you snugly as you step away from the tub and towards him. “But I could still really use a hug.”

“I can do that.”

Mingyu jumps up from his place on the floor, beaming at the soft look on your face as he tangles you in his arms. He plants peck after peck across the crown of your wet hair, nose filling with the scent of your shampoo as he squeezes you against him tightly. The remaining moisture on your body is wicked away by the soft fabric of his sweater, covering him in wet spots along his front and down his arms.

“You’re the best.” You sign into his chest as he leaves a kiss on your hairline.

To distract himself from what he really wants to say, Mingyu blows a wet raspberry against your forehead.

“Nope! Never mind!” You squeal, trying in vain to break out of his strong grip. “Get away from me!”

“But baby you just said I was the best!” He counters, arms tighten to prevent you from wiggling lose.

“No, you’re gross and I hate you!”

“GASP.”

You can only roll your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatics.

“You hate me? I wipe your tears, clean up your snot, order us take out, and you hate me?” Voice rising in pitch, he gapes at you.

“You ordered take out?”

“Focus on me! I’m hurt. Devastated!”

“Oh no, what will I do?” You deadpan, but the twitch of your mouth betrays your amusement.

It’s a dangerous game given you’re still locked in his arms and his penchant for being over the top.

“I’m deeply deeply wounded missy. So there’s only one way I’ll forgive you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss?” He says with puppy dog eyes and puckered lips that makes him look like a fish.

“Oh my god!” You cackle at his ridiculousness.

“Oh, there she goes again! Do you not care about me at all?”

His question is punctuated by him collapsing against you and fake crying. Laughter bubbles in your chest like champagne. Mingyu makes you feel better without even trying.

“Alright, come here you big baby. Let me give you a kiss.”

Matching smiles meet in a sweet kiss. In your relationship, one kiss frequently becomes ten or twenty so there's no shock when you keep planting pecks against his lips before moving to tickle them across his cheek, brow, and tip of his nose. Mingyu is all smiles and giggles under your lips as you move back to his mouth.

The short kisses become heated swiftly. You wipe the smile off his face easily enough, thanking the universe it takes almost nothing to get Mingyu started (not that you’re any better). You’re impressed he didn’t jump you when you stepped out of the shower in all your naked glory. Honestly, you’re a little disappointed he didn’t. But now with your towel unraveling from your tussle, pressed against his solid frame as you nip his lips, you know it’s a matter of seconds before Mingyu crowds against you and makes you feel a lot better.

Like clockwork, a simple hum in the back of your throat paired with your nails trailing down his chest sets Mingyu off. He turns with you still in his hold, lifting you up and depositing you on the cool marble of the countertop, pushing your legs apart to make room for himself. Clumsy hands push your towel away, giving him access to play with your chest. When the nail of his thumb scratches your nipple, you arch against him with a sigh. The shift breaks your lips apart and Mingyu wasted no time diving for your throat.

Apparently tonight is one of the few nights Mingyu wants to be a little more demanding with you. The hand not plucking your chest moves the tangle itself amongst the wet hair at the crown of your skull, giving a firm tug that has your spine arching, stretching your neck with a whine to give more space to bite along your throat. Teeth scratch against the cords of muscle, but his tongue soothes the abused skin immediately after; even when he’s rough, he treats you like a princess. You feel yourself clenching around nothing at the maddening combination of sensations.

“Please, Gyu”

“Please, what?” He asks, not budging an inch from where he latches to your collarbone.

“Touch me.” You whimper.

His mouth replaces the hand pinching your chest, sucking your abused nipple into his blistering mouth. The hand that was on your chest, skates down between your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, letting your foot find purchase on the handle of the cabinet next to you to spread you wide.

He starts slowly, middle finger parting your downy lips to trace from your entrance to your mound. The calloused pad of his finger nothing more than a gossamer touch against your heat, maddening as it teases you. Curling your hips upwards, you give him more space to circle your entrance before he dips his middle and ring finger inside, thumb stretching to caress your swollen clit.

“So wet already.”

“If you had a boyfriend that treats you how you treat me, then you’d understand why.” You pant into his hair.

“Think I understand plenty.” He replies, moving your hand to caress his dick where it sits tented in his shorts.

The bathroom is filled with shameless whines and puffs of breath as you work each other up. You’ve successfully gotten a hand into his underwear, fisting the head of his cock in a tight rhythm just how he likes. The other busies itself scratching down his back as he preps you for what's to come by twisting two fingers inside you, heel of his hand grinding against your clit with every thrust.

“Need you inside.” You whisper into his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?”

“Mhmm,” your tone is verging on pathetic but his reaction washes away any embarrassment.

“Then be a good girl and turn around.”

Mingyu steps back, giving you space to quickly jump off the counter to turn your back to him. He busies himself with removing his sweater while you settle on your elbows, ass pushed out in front of him teasingly. It gives him pause, easily distracted by the arch of your spine and the subtle jiggle of flesh as you rock from one foot to another. You watch in the mirror as he blinks lazily, using one hand to push down his pants while the other cups a cheek, squeezing it in his palm. When his shorts are finally pooled around his ankles, he steps closer to let his length rest on your ass.

You can feel his leaking tip brush your tailbone, leaving a faint trace of dampness across your skin as you roll on to the balls of your feet to grind back on him. The rigid velvet of his shaft has arousal dripping down your thighs crudely.

You watch his face with rapt attention in the mirror. He’s hypnotized by how his cock looks pressed snug against your rear, resting hot and heavy in the valley of your cheeks. His throat bobs with a harsh swallow; hands wrapping around your sides, lazily tracing the curve between the bottom of your ribs to your hip bones. Mingyu’s hips move of their own volition, rutting across your ass as his cock continues to drool on your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Come on baby, I had a hard day. Need you to make me feel better.”

Mingyu's eyes find yours in the mirror. You know the pout on your lips will get you everything you want. Mingyu knows it too.

“Condom,” he prompts.

There’s a stash in the drawer to your left but Mingyu is fully aware he lacks the will power to reach over and grab one when his hands are filled with something so much more enticing right now.

As you shake your head with a mischievous quirk of lips, he’s pretty sure you’re playing a cruel joke on hum.

“Shit,” He curses. “Are you serious?”

“Fuck me, Gyu.”

Palming his cock, Mingyu recites a silent prayer that he doesn’t blow his load immediately. This is the first time he gets to fuck you raw and goddamit if it’s short lived. Tracing his tip through the mess between your legs, he collects your arousal to lube him up. He can feel how soaking you are at the idea of him fucking you without the barrier of latex, inner thighs smeared with your essence. Hopefully you’ll come as quickly as he probably will.

“You’re so dirty, letting me stuff you with my cock like this. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you gasp when he nudges your clit. “Your dirty girl.”

“That’s right, my dirty girl.” He growls as he pushes inside you.

The first inch has you both closing your eyes, vision filled with stars. As nice as he feels bare inside you, it’s the mental is getting you off more than the physical. Every time Mingyu stretches you out on his cock is a treat, but the knowledge that the flared head of his cock pressing deep inside is leaving traces of his seed along your walls has you breathless. You’ve never let anyone else fuck you like this and a part shielded in your chest hopes he’s that last to.

Mingyu is more or less losing his shit behind you. The scorching wet clamp of your silky inner muscles that he’s only felt on his tongue or fingers is better than he could ever imagine. Your pussy gushing to coat his cock as he splits you open has him on the verge of tears. When he’s settled in, your ass pressed firmly to his pelvis, you wiggle against him.

Mingyu responds by pressing forward, pinning your hips to the counter harshly to prevent you from moving again. You’re clenching around him so hard, it takes all of his self control not to cum.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You mewl.

You’re really not helping.

“Calm down.” He grits out, both to himself and you.

“Need it.”

“Oh you need it?” He chides, delivering a bruising thrust.

You reward him with a sharp whine.

“Calm down baby, I'll give it to you. Always do, don't I?”

One hand circles the base of your throat, not squeezing; just resting the curve against his palm as his thumb trails along the side of your neck. It stops your breath anyway. But then Mingyu leans down to press his chest with your back, face coming into view right over your shoulder to whisper in your ear while looking you in the eye through the mirror.

“But you gotta be a good girl and spread it for me.”

You heave at his words, afraid you might pass out. Hands scramble to grab your own ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart so he has a clear view of your pussy sucking him in as he starts curling his hips inside you.

The way he’s fucking you is vulgar. Hand wrapped around your throat as the other moves back into your hair, your own brushing the tops of his thighs as he cants against your ass, balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust. Mingyu leans back to watch himself disappear into your cunt, pulling you up into an arch. The feel without a condom is melting his brain but the visual absence of latex is doing incredible damage to his psyche too.

You both are a mess of sweet whines and rough groans, bathroom echoing with the clapping of skin and wet squelch of your full pussy. Breaking his focus on the way your entrance stretches to accommodate his thick cock splitting you open, Mingyu looks in the mirror to watch the way your tits bounce in time with his hips; your mouth open in a silent scream, eyes misty with delirium as you watch him watching you.

“Feel so fucking good like this, shit.” He pants. “Hear how wet you are? Fucking love it don’t you?”

Your head falls forward pathetically, only stopped by the palm still resting around your throat. When Mingyu gives a tentative squeeze, you whimper a quiet agreement. He watches as you force a hand between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles to push you closer to the edge.

“Gonna come,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks, excitement clear as day. He tilts his hips to fuck deeper, stretching you just a little bit wider on his cock to send you home.

“Fuck!” You sob, tensing as your orgasm washes over you.

Every muscle in your body ignites, squeezing impossibly tighter as electricity snaps through your nerves, licking your veins and exploding your field of vision in a blinding white. Like a taunt bow string being released, you curl in on your chest as you clench around your boyfriend’s cock, gushing down shaky thighs. Your free hand grips the edge of the sink, holding on for dear life as you twitch in his hold.

“Where do you want it?” Mingyu cries, two seconds behind you and using his last functioning brain cell to not piss you off by assuming he can finish inside despite wanting nothing more. “Gotta tell me where you want, Y/N.”

“On me, wanna feel you on me!” You cry, still playing with your clit as you pry open teary eyes to watch Mingyu from the mirror.

A bright red blush spreads across his chest and up his neck, glistening with beads of sweat and condensation from the steam clogging the air. His bottom lip swollen from where it's locked between clenched teeth, neck straining and biceps bulging from his harsh grip on your body. He has enough sense of reality to slip the hand around your throat into your hair, gathering the strands in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of the way of the mess he’s about to make.

He pulls out with seconds to spare against a tsunami of pleasure that begins to surge through his body, beginning in his balls and crashing outward to swamp his nerves. It ripples across his skull, raising goosebumps in its wake as it ebbs through his blood stream. Mingyu’s abdomen flexes as he fists his cock still slick with your combined arousal over your ass; thick streaks of his seed rushing forward. You feel a hefty rope land between your shoulder blades, the sticky heat intoxicating as it trickles down your back. A few drops sputter on the dip of your spine and your hand still spreading you wide, decorating you in his own diamonds.

Mingyu can’t help the way he stares at your hole, obsessed with how you clench around nothing like you’re missing something. He wishes he was watching you squeeze around his dick, his cum dripping out of you with each pulse of muscle. Maybe someday he’ll get to.

As your orgasms subside, weariness circles on the edge of your senses. Two sets of eyes flutter shut, chests heaving and hearts beating in time. Unwinding his hand from your hair, Mingyu lets it gently rest next to your hip on the counter, preventing him from collapsing against you and into the sticky residue he’s left. He can’t feel his legs, head empty of coherent thought. Unconsciously, his thumb traces the dimple at the base of your spine, the gentle caress grounding him to his body.

The quiet of the bathroom is only disturbed by the hum of the overhead fan. You both are spent, muscles weak and nerves fried. Occasionally a deep breath interrupts but it's peaceful as you bask in each other's presence.

“Oh my god,” you pant, breaking his trance.

“Hmm?”

“How did you get cum on the mirror?”

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #dghe couple #🫡 highvern #not seeing heaven for this one I fear

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blingblong55 · 8 months

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Money, Money, Money- 141 X F1

Part 1 is here

Based on a request:

Idk if i can put in two requests but please. PLEASE I fucking love f1 Give more cod x f1 I dont care who and what and where, i just need more fics like that Thx for everything bestie(Feel free to ignore)

GN!Reader, 141 x reader x f1

The four men continued to watch you, you smile and pass by them, as if they were never someone in your life. It was as if they truly had never met you. "R/N?" Soap called for you, making you stop in your tracks and turn around, a small smile on you. "Hey guys," the disappointment in your voice noticeable. They knew your parents were around but you wanted, no, you needed them around. Family is not just blood but a bond between a group of people and they had become your family.

"R/N, we're sorry-"

"Save it, I just had the best day ever and I dont need you to make it bitter sweet, night." You walked away, your team waiting for you. Soap and Gaz were distraught, you needed them but the need they had to be around you, to feel like for once they weren't trained killers was greater than you'll ever know. Gaz held a bracelet in his hands. Every deployment he did after meeting you, he brought a bracelet from that place and made you wear it for luck on your next race.

By the next day, as they walked the paddock, Price kept cursing himself, yes he had a job to do but why use your race as the perfect plan for his job? He knew how important this day was for you and he still lied and left you alone, the stress that you felt during qualifying, how he would make horrible dad jokes to ease the stress. Ghost felt the same, he cared for you like an older brother would and knowing he had disappointed you and not even cheer from the bleachers, was something he had to fix.

Soap didn't talk to anyone, he had told Price the mission was not even a major problem and that if you didn't know they were in the city, you wouldn't be mad. The four men watched as you walked passed them, the camera crew filming you, interviewer walking alongside you for questions. People stopping you to take pictures and get autographs. "Congrats in P1, R/N!" a fan yelled, others gave you their support and until then the men found out you in fact did get pole position. They never checked online, always wanted to listen to you gush over it.

Warm up lap began, the men in the garage, silent. Soon, as the lights went out, you took an impressive lead on the rest of the grid. Price got a call from Laswell, "We have to go-" Price said

"You can't be serious, Price, R/N is racing-"

"We have a job to do, we aren't here for them this time." it was cold but true, their mission was supposed to be accomplished yesterday but something came up. Gaz and Soap did their best to watch more as they walked away. Ghost left the bracelet Gaz wanted to give you by your spare set of Gloves in the garage.

The race had its ups and down but you like a phoenix in the sky prevail, the race won by you. You wanted to run to the four men, only to find out they weren't there. Your mechanics were so you ran to them and hugged them, jumping over the barricade and cheering. Cameras on you and the other drivers on the grid. Inside though, it was a rather weird feeling, you were happy but part of you knew this was the first broken glass in the friendship.

You got to the podium, drank and sprayed the champagne, confetti in the sky, all cheering you on. In that moment, you were on top of the world. Once the celebration and interviews were over, you looked for them in the garage, only to find a new bracelet. You take it and your eyes get teary, "they were here." you whisper to yourself. Your wrist coming in contact with it. "Mate?" Gaz spoke, you turn around and hug him. Soap knew that in that moment, he no longer was the one you held closer to your heart. Gaz smiles and touches the bracelet, "I told you, I'll...we'll always be here, every race, far or close."

Price and Ghost stayed quiet, they wanted to explain their absence, but what more can they say? They killed many men, blood on their hands once more, they had to leave you once more because of a stupid meeting that was made to look important but wasn't. Soap kept replying how you got off your car and as the cameras pointed at you, you scanned the area, looking for them but never finding them. "R/N, please, please look at me," Soap begged and before you looked at him, your team called for you.

"Go kid, we'll be waiting for you." Price reassured and you walked away. And they did, they stayed in that garage and waited until you came back because there sure is a lot of explaining to do. "You think R/N, will forgive us?" The hopeful sergeant spoke. Price sighs and shrugs, "who's to say."

Hours later, many apologies and lame excuses, Soap finally hugged you, an entire week of him being in the same place as you and this was the first hug he had given you.

A/N: Idk anymore...but I hope its a little okay

Tags: @ateandleftnocrumbz @aethelwyneleigh27 @agasawit

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kumkissed · 3 months

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IN MOTION, IN 3D

— a series of fics where jjk/aot men really wanna see you in motion no matter what

If you ready - Gojo

Touch u thru the phone - Connie

You know how i like it - Toji

Jus wanna see if i get lucky - Eren

Playin wit urself on camera - Onyankopon

Drinkin’ That Potion - Choso

You won’t regret me - Armin

Champagne Confetti - Nanami

Brand new emotion - Getou

A new series is coming outtt! Inspired by JK 3D, lmk who u want first!!!!

#black reader #black y/n #toji fushiguro #jjk smut #toji x black reader #jjk x y/n #jjk toji #toji x black y/n #getou suguru smut #connie x black y/n #eren x black y/n #nanami smut #jjk x black reader #aot x black reader #choso x black!reader #jjk choso

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candywife333 · 5 months

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MASTERLIST OF ALL WORKS

And here we go, ***jazz hands*** , the much awaited master-list. It's a super basic format, but hopefully it helps everyone🎊

Not super detailed, but meant to be a guide to find the fics easier.

Thank you, @jessicalynn85 and @moniciibyavicii, for giving me the motivation to make a master-list. Otherwise I would've just procrastinated🤓

COMPLETE

Beautiful - part 1

Beautiful -part 2

(WIP)

Baby Boss

Baby Boss - part 2

Baby Boss- part 3

Baby Boss- part 4

(WIP)

Seduce Myself

Have to finish part 2 of this

(WIP)

Unexpected, a Tale of Grief

Unexpected, a Tale of Grief - part 2

Unexpected, a Tale of Grief- part 3

Unexpected, a Tale of Grief- part 4

Still have to write about 2-4 more parts for this fic

COMPLETE

Limping Seven Days a Week - 7 parts in this link

COMPLETE

Endlessly - one shot

COMPLETE

Womanizer - one shot

COMPLETE

A Cute Kitten... Atleast That is What I thought it was - one shot (may have a part two though which is just smut)

(WIP)

There is Never a Right Time

supposed to have 2 more parts to this fic- in process of writing

COMPLETE

Fish Wife or No Wife - has all 3 parts in this link

COMPLETE

Light a candle for me - diwali fic, has link with both parts

(WIP)

Only Here for the food - part 1

You can Have him- part 2

Supposed to have 3-4 more parts- currently in writing process

(WIP)

My Little Saesang- part 1

My Little Saesang- part 2

3D inspired fic (WIP)

Just Want to See you Like that

Body to Body

Champagne Confetti

I wouldn't even touch you with a stick

Damn, Dude's horny

have about 2-4 more parts for this one left

A Taeyong fanfic from my baby writer days

Flashing Lights

F the pyramid (historical romance )

Part 1

Part 2

25 days to Christmas special

1. Day 1 - serpent j-hope x chubby reader

#bts x plus size reader #chubby reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #eventual smut #bts #angst #self love #bts x chubby reader #smut #bts x curvy reader #masterlist #chubby reader fic

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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spencer having his first ever ny kiss with his gf!! he’s so excited

i'm writing it but i also have a full-length nye fic coming !!

Because Rossi is on a different coast in California, you had convinced Spencer to host the annual New Year's party. There wasn't a lot of convincing to do since he'd do pretty much anything you wanted, but his apartment was more central so you thought it was the perfect location.

You'd been decorating all day, putting up ballons of black, silver, white, and gold as well as big ballon numbers for the new year. There are party hats, hanging stars, lots of champagne for after 12, and cocktails for before.

"Alright, I think we're done." You declare, looking at the living room and kitchen area.

"It looks amazing." He agrees, meeting you in the middle of the living room in a hug. "Thanks for helping out."

You chuckle. "I invited everyone to your place, it's only fair I help you."

"I was surprised that you didn't try to distract me at all." He admits, tracing his tongue over your lips as he looks at you slightly lustfully.

"I take my New Year's parties very seriously." You joke, grinning at him while your hand travels down to his slacks. "And everyone's turning up at eight, so we don't have time."

You leave him standing there, no doubt growing hard as you walk off to his bedroom to change into your tiny silver dress. It's gorgeous, short, with sparkles on it that make you shine like a disco ball. You have matching heels, too, that look hot.

When you come back out, Emily's already there, drinking a glass of wine. You exchange hugs and get to talking about your Christmases. It's odd, but you spend so much of your life with the team that it's weird you haven't seen her in more than a week.

Secondly, JJ, Will, and Henry before Hotch, Beth, and Jack, then Morgan, and finally, Penelope, who's very apologetic about being late but was so because she was making cupcakes.

You drink, eat, and talk about your Christmases and plans for the next year. By 11:55, everyone's gathered around the TV, watching the news coverage of the ball dropping to welcome in the New Year.

Spencer stands next to you behind the couch, an arm wrapped around your shoulder keeping you close. "Had a good night?" You ask, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He nods. "So good." He answers. "Do you want to know something?"

You look up at him. "Yeah, what is it?"

"I've never had a New Year's kiss." He informs you.

Your eyes widen before you frown. "Really?" He nods. "Why wouldn't someone have not done that before?" You're actually puzzled. He's had girlfriends before, and he's prime New-Year's-kiss material.

"I usually get broken up with before my birthday." He tells you, chuckling slightly.

"Well, you're going to get one this year." You assure him.

He grins at you excitedly. "Not to push my luck, but what about next year?"

You nod. "Yeah, I could see that happening."

"It's almost your time to shine." He informs you, nodding to the TV where a ten-second countdown has started.

You count the seconds in unison with everyone else, all the couples getting closer as they wait to kiss.

"One." You cheer, turning to look at Spencer, who's already looking at you.

He doesn't say anything before he leans in to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours while everyone cheers and pops open champagne, confetti flying around while fireworks go off outside.

You're both smiling when you pull back. "Happy New Year, Y/n." He tells you.

"Happy New Year, Spence."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #spencer reid fandom

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pennyellee · 4 months

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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋

here you can check my writing progress or new additions to the masterlist ♥

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦　

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐀 | 𝐌𝐘𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 ✎ CHAPTER VIII - alpha read

✎ CHAPTER XI . . . ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 0%

✎ CHAPTER X . . . ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 0%

m.list

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔

out now

✎ part II . . . ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 0%

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❝E . . . . .❞

✎ █████▒▒▒▒▒▒ 40 %

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𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . . B 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

✎ but when i'm near you i feel flames ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 0%

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦　

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 . . . A ∞ ☼｡𖦹 ° . ⋆♡

✎ you played me like atari ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 0%

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦　

#bts fanfic #bts #bts fic #yandere bts #yoongi x reader #yandere yoongi #soft yandere #yandere #mafia au #fic:lacrimosa #fic: champagne confetti #bts jk #jeon jungkook #yandere jk #jungkook x reader

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bibuckbuckley · 10 days

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by my beloveds @bidisasterevankinard and @confetti-cupcake tysm babes!

So I saw this gifset from the amazing @cafecitoeddie and got this instant need to write an Eddie x Terry fic (don't worry I'm still working on my buddie longfic and all my prompts). I'm not sure about what I've written so far but here you go

If Eddie were to say that today was a day then that would be the understatement of the fucking millienia. After what felt like forever, they had finally found a bloodied and bruised Chimney. Tommy had even flew in a fucking helicopter so the groom could finally marry the bride – after getting thoroughly checked by Hen of course.

And now here they are, everyone happy and dancing like Chimney didn’t almost die, again. But that’s okay, because if any of them learned anything from their job and all the trauma, is to enjoy what you have when you have it.

At that thought, Eddie looks away from the bride and groom carefully but still lovingly dancing to see Buck and Tommy in their own little world swaying to the sweet love song. He quickly turns around and walks towards the drink table to grab another flute of champagne.

Eddie downs the entire glass and sighs.

It’s pretty damn awful timing to break up with your girlfriend because – surprise! – you realized that not only you’re gay but you’re in love with your best friend only after said best friend also discovered his queerness but is starting to date a guy that you’re pretty sure you also had a crush on as well.

The universe is a cruel, cruel bitch.

“Hey, Eddie!” A voice comes to break himself out of his thoughts.

Eddie turns to see a face he hasn’t seen since working at dispatch.

He pushes all his anguish aside for now for him to process later with Frank, and lets out a genuine smile.

“Hey, Terry! Long time no see.”

The other man gives him a bright smile in return. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

Feeling like a sad gay disaster, he thinks. He says, “Great. How ‘bout you?”

“Pretty good.” He looks tentatively at Eddie for a moment before continuing. “I know you’re where you belong but I have to say I was kinda sad when you left dispatch. The LAFD twitter is just not the same without you.”

Eddie laughs.

That was a dark time in his life. But where Josh made him feel like an outsider, Terry – along with May, Linda, and Sue – helped him feel welcomed there. It’s nice to feel like he was missed.

“Yeah, I do not miss that. But I do miss y’all over there.” He pauses. “Even though I'm so glad I left.”

Terry laughs, his smile wide, and something in Eddie's stomach flutters. Like butterflies.

It then hits him. He’s attracted to Terry. He likes Terry.

That both terrifies him and sends thrills down his spine.

Tagging: @wh0re-behavi0r @honestlydarkprincess @monsterrae1 @saybiwithme @eddiediazisascorpio @parva-noctua @steadfastsaturnsrings @insecuregodcomplex and whoever wants to do it

#eddie diaz #terry flores #eddie x terry #911 #911 abc #911 fic #911 wip #my wips

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autisticlancemcclain · 11 months

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fic rec friday 23

welcome to the twenty-third fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. lucky i’m in love with my best friend by @nezueye

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Lance murmurs, staring at Keith’s lips.

“So kiss me."

Lance scrunches up his nose. “In front of all of our friends? I thought you were allergic to PDA.”

Keith shrugs. “You’ve been sitting in my lap for the past 20 minutes and I’ve been basically groping you the entire time.” He punctuates this statement by bringing his hands back to Lance’s ass and squeezing just a little, as a treat. “Some more PDA is okay, I think.”

yes i know i recced one of nez’s fics last week and i’m here doing it again. they’re amazing okay. every single time the devotion settles heavily in my lungs im ALLOWED to be obsessed with them. this one gets to me especially bc its established relationship, which is my favourite dynamic always, and its as funny as it is sweet!! double blamy!! also the title is from possibly the most klance song ever, and if you would like to hear jeremy shada (lance’s VA) singing a cover of the song... you’re in luck

2. the meaning of donuts by @katranga

The next few days were filled with Lance informing everyone, multiple times, of their “new” friendship. “We’re friends now, did you hear? Keith and I are friends.” Over and over, big smile, loud voice. Looking between Keith and whoever he was telling like he expected a round of applause. Or confetti. Or a parade. What he usually got was somebody making a crack about bonding moments, which prompted a tight, put-upon sigh on Keith’s end. And Lance would look at him fondly, and Keith would have to bite his cheek to distract himself from how much he wanted Lance to lean over and kiss him. -- Keith realizes he may, potentially, possibly have some feelings for a certain blue paladin and he is Not Thrilled about it.

14k words of keith being exasperated by himself by being disgustingly in love with lance and lance being increasingly more in love but lowkey being oblivious about it??? hell fucking yeah!! lance is so bright in this fic bc thats how keith (begrudgingly lol) sees him and its so true and wonderful

3. perish the rest, this thought is yours by @moonguilt

“Lance? Lance can you hear—” Keith's voice crackled unintelligibly. “—big hit. Are you—” More crackling, and—silence.

Lance frantically pressed his comm button. “Keith? Keith, hey, uh, small problem maybe—”

The control panel flickered a few times, then sputtered out, and suddenly Red was falling—eerily slow at first, then faster than a bullet. Lance bit back a scream, smashing buttons and yanking at the controls desperately, but Red just kept falling, falling, falling, and all Lance could do was watch as she turned belly-up in the air, giving him a perfect, horrible view of Black taking several heavy shots directly to the cockpit.

This time he did scream. But it did no good, and Lance was forced to watch as Black—as Keith—careened toward the moon's surface, a faint trail of purple dusting his wake like the tail of a comet.

————–

Lance and Keith are sent on a mission to answer a distress signal from the desert moon of Xat-lor VII. They get more than they bargained for, both in enemy numbers and in feelings. They have to fight to survive long enough for the rest of their team to arrive, and in the meantime, Things Happen.

i will Never get tired of flirty keith. somehow in the first couple years of this fandom we forgot that keith is the one with game and lance is the one whos freqently getting flustered and tongue-tied, and god bless finn for reminding us. this fic has post s7 but only the good parts (and fuck s8), black paladin keith red paladin lance, bamf co leaders who are in love and also stupid, and (im mentioning it again bc Duh) flirty keith. loml.

4. feel it in the space in between by angelbolt

“Coffee champagne, in my opinion, would be carbonated coffee with a shot of white wine. Does that sound like a good time to you?”

“It sounds like a great time.”

Adam leaned in, his nose wrinkling with a smile as he whispered, “Junkie.”

“You love it,” Takashi dismissed, kissing the wrinkles. “You think it’s endearing.”

Adam drummed his fingers over Takashi’s scalp, “I find too many of your flaws endearing, my love.”

“Even my dad jokes?” ✦ takashi and adam get engaged.

prekerb adashi does NOT get enough attention!!! at all!! i love them in love and happy with baby keith!!! this fic is sweet and sappy and gives both shiro and adam some much-needed dimension. shiro is a DOG and i love that for him. the big hero six scene made me cry.

5. two bros, chillin’ in a space pool by angelbolt

Harrumphing, Lance paddled to the edge, heaving himself to sit on it, one foot extended to point at Keith, "Fine! Then if you believe yourself to be so much better than me—"

Keith seemed distracted, mouth slightly open, "I never said—"

"I challenge you to a duel! A swimming duel!"

He looked wholly unimpressed once again, "Wow, that's new." ✩ My take on why they were both shirtless.

i will never in my life get over angry pining. the idea of being down bad for someone and FURIOUS about it will never not be funny to me. this entire fic in general made me laugh out loud and in particular this fic used the word ‘ah-HOOGA’ unironically which is not only ballsy but also beyond my words to properly appreciate. lance is a menace. early s1 fics my love

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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topgun-imagines · 9 months

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One Year Anniversary!

hi everyone! i've decided to host a 'one year celebration'. july 27th, 2022 was the day that i posted my first story. since then, i've made many friends and found something that makes me incredibly happy. i’m so so grateful for every single one of you for making this such an incredible journey! i’m so excited to see what the next year will bring! <3

so, without further delay, let the festivities begin! since this celebration is themed around a one-year anniversary, each of the options will be different cake flavours. while some of these are similar to ones that i have done in past celebrations, some new ones have been added. feel free to send in as many as you like. i hope you all enjoy! once again, thank you so much!!

celebrating from july 27th - august 20th

- pink champagne: since this is a ‘one year annaverisiry’, i figured that i should have something to do with my stories over the past year. so, for this one, send in ‘pink champagne’ and a story of mine to get the directors cut/my thought process behind it.

- coconut: as always, i have to include a moodboard aspect to my celebration. send in a character and a theme to get a moodboard!

- lemon: this is another new one that i’m adding. for this one, send in 'lemon' along with one of my stories to get a playlist of songs that fit the story.

- confetti: for this celebration, i'd like to have an even amount of focus on new stories and stories from the past year. send in 'confetti' and a character, along with any other specifics you'd like, to get a list of my favorite stories that i have written for that character.

- strawberry: send in any top gun 1986 or top gun maverick character to get a list of some of my favourite stories for them. this one will act more as a fic rec and a way to boost other writers on here.

- white chocolate: for this option, send in 'white chocolate' along with any other word to get a sentence from an upcoming story.

- salted caramel: another option that i include in all of my celebrations is the blurb option. for this one, send in a top gun character + a theme to get a blurb.

thank you again for this wonderful past year!! <3

tagging some mutual to get things started:

@topguncortez @peachystenbrough @wkndwlff @rhettabbotts @supercatgirl006 @jackiequick @myfaveficrecs @roosterforme @dragon-kazansky @cassiemitchell @teacupsandtopgun @beccaanne814 @rosiahills22 @seresinsbabe @mrsjaderogers @topgunruinedme @cycbaby @callsignthirsty @nobody7102

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judgementdaysunshine · 1 month

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Prompts

🍺 Cheers - Send this for a response of clinking glasses (Figuratively) with you

🌻 Fic requests - Send this with a prompt from the list above and anyone I write for

🎂 Cake - Send this to celebrate with me cutting my cake

🥃 Shots - Send this with a reaction pic of a wrestler and I will respond with one of my own

🍨 Sundae - Send this with a fic of mine you like and I will respond with one of my favorite fics in return

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#judgementdaysunshine #judgementdaysunshine's 21st birthday celebration

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 1 year

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one brush with love

(also in honor of @impishtubist day, i am going to do something i dont normally do and have two fics occurring at the same time. this was supposed to be dropped yesterday but...alas.

inspired from an unintentional prompt on discord of "I said no!", where someone doesn't accept a proposal...a tumblr Starking exclusive.

enjoy xoxo)

a/n. there is a line in this that i think is quite possibly the funniest thing I've ever written and if any of yall can take a guess...

Chapter 1. An Indecent Proposal

Sirius face felt like it was going to fall off he had been holding a fake smile for so long. His “present face”. That’s what James used to call it, anyway. The face Sirius made when he opened a gift he hated or was otherwise impractical or would take up space in their dorm, and Sirius would nod and smile and say thank you; and his voice would go up several octaves lying through his teeth as he described how much he wanted one of these things for ages and simply had never bought it for himself. James would always poke fun, laughing loudly as the smile dropped from Sirius’s face, and the lies stopped.

Sirius never imagined when he was proposed to for the first time, by the man he thought he had loved the very best since he was sixteen, that his “present face” would appear, and he would be rendered speechless.

Sirius didn’t know what to do with his arms, letting them hang there stupidly at his side, suddenly aware of how long and bulky they were. Too much, too much, maybe I can have them shrunk at St. Mungo’s. Just two short little arms that don’t look ridiculous at your sides when you’re standing in front of your boyfriend who is expecting an answer to a proposal. Yeah, just go ahead and say yes, so we can get this operation started and you never have to worry about stupid dangling arms again, THAT works, right? Okay.

Saying words…. now.

“I—”

“I feel like I deserve a trophy of sorts for managing to surprise you, baby,” Remus said, looking up at him. “I love you and I—”

“No!”

The flock of birds that erupted from the trees surrounding them might have been funny had Sirius said yes. Some people after getting engaged shot off confetti canons, doves released from boxes, and it would be just so SiriusandRemus to have pigeons or whatever the fuck they were instead flapping around them.

So wrong, it was right.

But standing there with his stupid arms…Sirius realized it might have just been wrong.

"No?"

Sirius felt a chill go down his spine, frozen as he stared at Remus, who was down on the ground on one knee. There was a hole there. Sirius could see the freckled, knobby kneecap poking through the hole of the brown trousers that Remus loved.

That Sirius loved, even though the waistband didn't fit and there was a hole, and in the pockets too-- throughout the day Remus would drop knuts on the ground, uncaring as they slipped through his pockets, and Sirius would smile and pick them up. Stealing someone else's good luck. Because Remus was wavering on his knee, and his long fingers holding a ring were starting to shake as well, staring up at Sirius.

There was ink down Remus's arm, where he had written a speech. I love you and you and you and you, only you, forever, always, in this lifetime and the next. Written in the stars, shit.

The romantic kind that Remus usually didn't do, but he had this time.

And the sun was setting just right, and the golden light reflecting off brown hair should have been it. And the birds should've been singing, and Sirius should've been crying, and there was a bottle of champagne somewhere, right? To pop, to explode. They were supposed to be kissing.

But neither of them had moved.

"N-no?" Remus asked again, his arms lowering slowly.

"I don't know why I said that" Sirius said, unconsciously taking a step back from Remus, "I didn't mean--"

"I think you did."

“I didn’t, I swear I just..didn’t.”

“You practically shouted it, Sirius."

"I thought you were asking if I wanted cheese on my sandwich." A picnic. Remus had planned a picnic for Merlin's sake!

"Well, do you?"

"No."

"Two for two."

"Remus...."

Remus slowly rose from his position, the hand holding the ring going into his pocket. Almost immediately, the tiny band slipped through the hole in Remus's trousers, barely making a sound as it fell to the sidewalk, and Remus began walking down the path. Sirius don’t know what compelled him to pick up the ring—maybe if he looked at it up-close his answer would change, and they could go back to how it was 10 minutes ago before Sirius had destroyed everything. Remus had surprisingly done a good job with the ring, golden and not too thick, handmade; inside a barely perceptible inscription of forever just as Remus had verbally said.

Just as they had said when they were eighteen and graduated from Hogwarts, holding hands and looking at the Black Lake for the last time with death-grips. Eight white knuckles. Convincing themselves that they would stay together, forever, because they had to be.

“Remus, wait!”

And to Sirius’s surprise, Remus stopped in his tracks on the pavement, Sirius barely having to jog to catch up with him.

“What?”

“I—” Sirius stalled, “I wasn’t expecting you to actually stop and wait for me, so I don’t…have anything to say right at this moment, but give me a second and—”

“I only stopped to wait because I realized you drove us here.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Remus mocked, eyebrows raising and staring at Sirius for some sort of explanation. “There’s a fucking party waiting for us back at Number 12. Harry helped me plan this bit out. And we’re going to go back there and say what? Never mind! It was all a lie! Nothing matters! Go fuck yourself, Sirius.”

“I mean…that’s probably going to happen for a while considering I don’t think I’m fucking—”

“Don’t be charming.”

“Well, I can’t help that.”

“I am going to spit in your face, I swear on Merlin’s Right Saggy Tit, Sirius Black.”

Sirius sighed, and handed the ring back to Remus carefully, “I…said no.”

“To cheese on your sandwich, I’ve heard.”

“And to getting married.”

“Remember that time James accidentally pantsed me in front of the entire school? Don’t laugh, you are not allowed to laugh anymore,” Remus said, sternly, pointing a finger at Sirius who bit down on his lip, “And I said to you I didn’t think there was anything more embarrassing?”

“I…remember.”

“This takes the cake.”

“…Do you have one in that picnic basket?”

“There’s one at Number 12.”

“It’s…still ours to eat.”

“It says Congratulations, not feeling particularly celebratory at this moment,” Remus shook his head and shoved the ring back down into his pockets. The same one with a hole in it. The ring would undoubtedly fall out again and Sirius wasn’t sure this time he would pick it up. Maybe a bird would find it, bring it back to its nest. At least then someone, something would use it as part of their home.

“We don’t have a lot of options here Remus, and I’m—”

“Trying to make the best of it, you always do. It’s why I wanted to marry you.”

And this was where the guilt set in. This was where Sirius would normally back-peddle, already thinking of ways he could pull the punches and soften the blow. Confess to Remus with his “present face” that he just wasn’t ready now and, in a year, or so when Harry was older, or maybe when the sitting room was painted the perfect shade of yellow, Sirius would say yes, loudly and proudly. Or else return to their home and start plotting a proposal in reverse, where it was Sirius on one knee with shaky hands telling Remus that he just had to be the one to propose and the ring would be perfect, and Remus would smile so wide Sirius would be able to see the gap in his bottom teeth. But Sirius didn’t want to do either of those.

There was always a third choice between yes, and no. You just had to be clever enough and brave enough to find out what it was.

“So…” Sirius breathed out, “How…about we just get trashed instead?”

“What.” Remus asked, unamused, eyes red from tears that hadn’t fallen yet but had dried all the same. Shoulders hunched over. All pride from the start of their drive to the park gone.

“We get trashed. Off the…whatever you packed for our picnic, I’m assuming there’s something?”

“Fucking 20 galleon bottle of wine.”

“Then we drink that. And…then go to a pub down the road. Stay out so late, everyone leaves Number 12, and…we don’t have to deal with anything until…not now.”

“And well just go home together? And sleep in the same bed together? And tomorrow morning tell Harry that love is a joke?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded, “I think he can take it.”

“We’ll I can’t. Why—”

“It doesn’t…feel right, Moony. And I didn’t…know until you were down on one knee.”

Remus nodded slowly before starting down the path again. Sirius stood and waited again, watching Remus’s retreating back unsure of whether to stay or follow and try one more time. But he saw Remus reach into the backpack, pulling out the aforementioned bottle of wine. He looked around before magically popping out the cork, pausing on the sidewalk, and chugging the expensive wine like it was water.

He turned his head towards Sirius, holding out the bottle like an olive branch, and for the second time that late afternoon, Sirius walked to catch up to Remus.

“I get most of this.”

“Alright,” Sirius grinned, feeling the guilt that had knotted itself up in the pit of his stomach slowly unravel. He took a sip from the bottle.

He fucking hated wine.

Wrong.

Present face.

The night was long, mostly spent drinking in silence across from each other. Not wanting to drink alone but not walking to speak to the other person.

Remus was hurt.

Sirius was in shock, adrenaline coursing through his veins and he would feel the hurt later.

They used a portkey to get home, leaving Sirius’s car at the park for him to retrieve tomorrow, along with anything else left behind.

Dignity.

Maybe love.

Number 12 was empty, as Sirius expected, the Congratulations cake left on the kitchen table, though it had been carved into (as a result of a hoard of impatient children in attendance) no doubt.

Sirius woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache, too old to be drinking all night, and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water. He leaned against the refrigerator—a ghastly muggle appliance that Sirius had grown accustomed to in the tiny flat days with him and Remus and hadn’t found a way to make it blend seamlessly into the décor of Number 12.

But at the moment in felt cool and calming on his forehead and racing thoughts.

He hadn’t quite figured out what to do, or what to say, or what was going to happen next.

“Uh…Mr. Black?”

Sirius startled, pulling away from the fridge and running a hand through his hair before turning around to face the voice.

Kelly? Clara? Katie? A muggle babysitter they used for Harry from the neighborhood. They had cycled through so many over the years, between accidental magic and Number 12 Grimmauld Place deciding to have a mind of its own whenever Remus and Sirius would leave, that Sirius was starting to lose track of the names.

“Oh, hi K…aaa…rrriiitt—”

“Karina.”

“Right, right, sorry, Karina, long night,” Sirius offered, giving her a weak smile, “Thank you for staying…over unexpectedly. Let me just find…” Sirius walked across the kitchen and down the hallway leading to the front door where they kept a small chest of drawers. A stack of muggle money was in the first one, after Sirius had attempted to pay babysitter and pizza delivery persons one too many times with galleons. “Sorry about that—was Harry alright?”

“He went into a sugar coma about eight and has been asleep since. I did my best to clean up the party.”

“Ah, what would we do without you, Kate.”

“Karina.”

Sirius closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, silently cursing himself, “Right. Here’s…a little extra just for that.”

The young girl laughed, reaching up to the hook to grab her coat and her small purse before accepting the money, “How…did last night go?” she asked, a smile on her face as she expected what Sirius knew everyone expected.

“I…I said no!” Sirius exclaimed with false excitement, extending his empty ring fingers to Karina and watched as her face fell and turned pink.

Seemed about right.

#one brush with love #starking #sirius black #kingsley shacklebolt #remus lupin

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etoileholland · 1 year

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CHAPTER 3 - Candlewax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: none at all

a/n: it’s a miracle! I’m finally updating this fic! I know it’s been a very long time since the first two chapters were posted, but I felt as though I never had the time to finish. I do now, so I really hope you enjoy!

Tom couldn’t stop thinking about the moment when you kissed him on the cheek. He’s never felt more giddy over someone, and you were consuming all of his thoughts. When he closed his eyes, he saw you. When he had a free moment, he thought of you. He never stopped thinking of you, but with the happiness of you, a realisation hit him.

You were moving away to university.

The thought of you leaving filled him with immense melancholy, but he knew that he couldn’t stand in your way. This was a huge moment for you, so even though he was sad about you leaving, he had to support you wholeheartedly.

A few days passed, and it was now New Year’s Eve. Tom hadn’t heard from you since Christmas dinner, but he knew you were busy with the move. Still, worry washed over him, and he wanted to go and check up on you to make sure you were okay.

He was set to go to a New Year’s party, which was thrown at the Madison at St. Paul’s. Harrison was especially excited to attend the party, because it was rumored that the cast of Love Island would be there, and none of the boys wanted to miss out on that. Tom sent a quick text to you, and unenthusiastically continued to get ready.

“Are you coming?” Harrison bellowed from the other room. He emerged into the doorframe, adjusting his bow tie. “I don’t wanna be late--I’ve waited like all year for this.”

“I don’t wanna be late either!” Harry shouted from down the hall. “I need to meet Maura soo bad.”

Tom glanced down at his phone when he noticed that you had texted him back. He read your message, and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Actually, I think you should go by yourself. Y/N’s spending the night packing up the house, so I’m going to help her instead.”

Loud footsteps came within earshot, and a few seconds later, Harry was standing in the doorframe. “You coming?”

“No.” Tom answered. “I was just telling Haz I’m not gonna make it, you guys can go without me.”

Harrison titled his head to look at Harry. “He’s gonna go to Y/N’s instead.”

At the mention of your name, Harry’s face lit up. “Ooh, how exciting.” Harry glanced over at Harrison and gave him a smirk. “Tom’s definitely going to have more fun at Y/N’s”.

“Oi, I’m serious,” Tom plunked down on the bed, “I don’t want her spending the holiday alone.” He sighed. “She has no one else, and the thought of her being in her empty childhood home is incredibly depressing.”

A spell of silence fell over them, the air in the room instantly turning somber. Harry, who was now leaning against the doorframe, tapped Harrison in the shoulder excitedly.

“I know, why don’t we bring the celebration to her? We could go buy some balloons, confetti and some champagne. That way, she’ll have one last happy memory of her house before it’s packed up.”

The trio exchanged a glance with each other. “I think that may be the best idea you’ve ever had mate.” Harrison softly slapped Harry’s arm, causing Harry to look up at him.

“I can even bring my Polaroid.” Harry added.

Tom clicked his tongue, “Let’s do it.”

The boys went down to a party shop for the balloons and confetti, and to a shop to get some champagne. This took them longer than anticipated because the boys got distracted at the party shop, trying on every odd hat and mask they had, but eventually they showed up at your door, champagne and balloons in hand. It was nearly 10pm, and they had left almost an hour and a half ago.

Tom was the first to make it up to your doorstep, then Harry, and finally Harrison. They all knocked on your door at the same time, not stopping until you answered the door a minute later. They were surprised to see you in your pajamas, eyes red and puffy.

“Y/N,” Harry breathed out, “are you all right?”

You shook your head yes, sniffing. “I’m fine, really.” You leaned up against your door, shrugging your shoulders, “just, holidays are hard.” You choked out.

Harrison was the first to react, throwing his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. The affection alone was enough to almost make you burst out into tears. “What are you guys doing here?” You questioned, although your cheek was pressed up against Harrison’s shoulder, muffling your voice. “You guys are all dressed up so fancily.” After a second, you gasped. “Were you guys headed to a party?”

Tom cleared his throat gently, rubbing his hands together. “Well, we were. But when you said you were going to be alone, I was gonna come by to keep you company. And then Harrison and Harry both wanted to come by too, and Harry-”

“Who actually had a smart thought for the first time ever in his life.” Harrison interjected.

“Brought up the smart idea to bring the celebration to you.” Tom concluded.

You pulled away from Harrison’s warm embrace. “That was very nice of you guys,” you whispered , wiping a tear away. “Thank you, but now I feel bad because you’re missing out on some fancy-pants party,”

“Eh, who cares about a swanky party.” Harrison shrugged.

“We’d rather be with you.” Tom answered quietly. You smiled at Tom, and said “thank you guys.”

“Welcome.” Harry answered, “now let’s get this par-tay started!” he shouted as he held the bottle of champagne over his head.

You stepped out of the way so that the boys could pile into your house. The house was dark, and most of your possessions were already boxed up, taking up space on the south facing wall.

The hardwood floors creaked under every step--a sound that usually wasn’t loud, but now that everything’s been packed up, there was hardly any furniture to absorb the sound. Every sound echoed loudly, almost reverberating off the walls.

“Well, the acoustics in here are just fantastic.” Harrison commented, and Tom smacked him in the arm.

“You know, all the years I've lived here, I never once heard the floors creak.” You remarked, “Maybe because this whole room was covered with a large rug, and my aunt always had some music playing. So, even if the floors creaked, I would’ve never noticed.”

“It’s a nice home though, nevertheless.” Harry said, setting the champagne on the only remaining coffee table.

You padded over to the light switch, and once the lights came on, instantly the house looked less haunted. “You guys can make yourselves comfortable, if you want. I don’t really have any food to offer, though.”

Tom tied the balloons that he was holding on one of the legs of the coffee table. “It’s fine, we ate earlier.”

“I know it’s depressing in here, and I’m really sorry about that.” You mentioned, addressing the elephant in the room. You were standing next to an antique record player that sat near the front door.

Tom walked over to you, leaning his head against your shoulder. It was a simple affectionate gesture, but it had your heart racing. “Don’t worry about it, but that’s why we’re here to party.” He booped your nose lightly, which made you giggle.

“Are you going to party dressed like that?” Harrison asked, causing you to playfully scoff. You were in an oversized hoodie, a large pair of sweats, and some bunny slippers.

“I didn’t know I would be a guest on ‘what not to wear.” you joked, winking at him playfully. Throwing your hands in the air, you shuffled over to your room, locking it behind you. You quickly riffled through your drawers and closet, pulling out a pair of jeans and a glittery top. Getting dressed as quickly as you could, you admired yourself in the mirror, smiling to yourself. The boys were so sweet for stopping by, knowing them was probably the best thing that’s happened this year to you.

The boys waited for you in the living room; Harry fiddled with the record player to get it to work, and when he finally managed to figure out how to use it, he realized there wasn’t a record in sight. So, to remedy this, he put on a random New Year’s playlist he found on Spotify.

You glanced at yourself once more before emerging from your bedroom. As you headed out of your room, you noticed Harry standing in the now lively living room. He glanced up at you, and with a smirk, he pulled a long tube out of his jacket pocket. He pulled a little loop on it, and instantly a loud bang echoed through the room, releasing a flurry of gold and white coloured confetti. The sudden sound startled you just a bit, but seeing the confetti flurry brought a smile to your face.

“Happy new year.” You whispered to yourself.

—

The night went better than you could’ve ever imagined. You all danced to party songs and drank champagne out of plastic champagne flutes. Harry did not miss any chances to take candid photos of you guys laughing, dancing, drinking and smiling.

He would show you the best photos that he took, and you couldn’t help but feel beautiful. He made you look ethereal and glowing.

“You know…” you shouted to him over the music, “you made me look really beautiful in these photos.”

Without skipping a beat, Harry answered back, “darling, I don’t have to make you look beautiful. You already are.”

This brought happy tears to your eyes.

—

As it got closer to midnight, the energy of the room died down. Harry was sitting next to Harrison, showing him something funny on his phone. You were tired from all the dancing and excitement, so you sat down on the plush couch.

Tom had joined you on the couch, and carefully sat down next to you. He had left for about 30 minutes, but you didn’t dare ask what he was up to. You looked up to see that he was smiling at you softly, with his cheeks pink with happiness.

“How are you enjoying the night?” He whispered to you, as the music was at a lower volume than it was earlier.

“I’m having the best night of my life.” You whispered back. You watched as Tom’s face lit up into a smile and then into a soft laugh. “I’m serious.” You spoke up. “I’ve never smiled so much in my life.”

Tom’s face softened into a caring gaze, and you realized he was sitting very close to you. Close enough that your thighs were touching. It made you wonder how long you guys have been sitting that close to each other.

“Well, I’m really glad we’ve given you a happy night. You deserve it.”

You were about to answer him when Harrison shouted “it’s three minutes until the new year!”

Tom sat up and moved his body away from yours. You couldn’t help the small frown that appeared on your face, but that quickly subsided when he stood up and held out his hand. “Can I show you something?”

You nodded and grabbed his hand. He led you upstairs and towards the guest bedroom. He turned around to steal a quick glance at you, and then opened the bedroom door. When you both were inside, he let go of your hand and walked towards the window. With a wiggle of the lock, he slid open the window and sat down at the reading ledge just below the window. You remember all the fond memories of sneaking into this room, sitting on the ledge whilst reading whatever book struck your fancy, all while listening to the bustling noises of London from outside the window.

You sat next to him, making yourself comfortable as you leaned out the window. Tom watched as your face softened, and his lips curled into a smile. It was obvious that it was bringing up good memories for you, so he let you bask in the happiness.

He couldn’t stop looking at you. He saw a small tear escape the corner of your eye, and he turned away to give you a second.

“Thank you, for everything.” You whispered to him.

“You’re welcome.” He whispered back. As he answered, he heard a firework go off in the distance, and happy shouting coming from the streets.

“It must be midnight.” You answered and turned to face Tom. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year. Here’s to a good year.” He answered back. Tom had wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep. He was infatuated with you, but he wasn’t entirely sure you felt the same. So, instead of acting upon his instincts, he leaned his head on your shoulder.

The movement surprised you, and Tom, taking it as a sign that you didn’t want the affection, lifted his head and sat back up.

“Sorry.” He said, sitting up. The fireworks were still going off in the distance, and Tom focused his attention on the fireworks. You watched his face as he intently viewed the fireworks, and you felt bad that you potentially ruined a moment with him by moving away.

Acting with the bit of liquid courage that was still coursing through your veins, you pressed a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips. You slowly leaned back, scanning Tom’s face to see if you overstepped. His widened pupils and eyes stared back at you, and he leaned in closer to you.

“May I?” He asked, his voice hoarse and low. Not able to even make a sound, you nodded your head yes and closed the gap between you both. He hovered his lips over yours, making sure it was okay to proceed. The suspense was killing you, but you loved how gentle he was.

As his lips intertwined with yours, you could taste the champagne from earlier. His lips were softer than what you imagined, yet he kissed you with enough movement to know that he was enjoying it.

You pulled away and hovered over his lips. The smile that erupted on your face couldn’t be helped, and you could feel Tom’s warm breath over your lips. In the distance you could still hear the fireworks and people cheering in the streets, a nice melody to accompany the moment.

His hand, which was now at the center of your back, was moving down your back. He stopped just at the base, and looked into your eyes. You noticed his eyes were slightly closed in a content manner, and you leaned in to kiss him again.

Not breaking the kiss, he pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and continued to kiss him fervently (look up word). His breath was warm against your lips, and your breathing intensified. When he pulled away, you only closed the gap between each other, and when you finally pulled away, he did the same.

Still sitting on his lap, you moved your hands from around his neck to the nape of his neck. One hand slowly moved up into his hair, playing with his curls. His hands were still wrapped around your waist, firmly gripping you. The lights from the firework’s illuminated both of your faces, and the light made his eyes sparkle like the stars above.

“We should probably…”

“Yeah.” Tom answered quietly. You slowly got up from his lap and fixed your outfit. He followed suit and got the wrinkles out of his button up and slacks.

He held out his hand once more, and you followed him out of the room and back into the living room.

——

The rest of the night was a blur, and the morning light that came in through the curtains signaled that the new year was officially here.

You were on the couch, and so was Tom. His legs were intertwined with yours, his left arm was wrapped around you. As you slowly got up to not wake Tom, you saw Harrison and Harry sprawled out on the floor, with their jackets acting as a pillow. The sight of them made you giggle, and you grabbed a blanket from one of the boxes and covered them up.

The floor creaked as you walked into the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea for everyone, when you heard some footsteps behind you. It was Harrison and Harry, each one holding a hand to their forehead.

“Good god, I think I had too much to drink.” Harrison spoke up in a grovely voice.

“We had fun though mate, that’s all that matters.” Harry groaned.

“Definitely, I really appreciate you coming round and cheering me up.” You answered, holding out a hot cup of tea for them to grab. “It was such a memorable night.”

Setting his cup down on the counter, Harry bends down and picks up a Polaroid from the ground. In it was you, Tom and Harrison holding your plastic champagne flutes up in a toast. Your faces were beaming with bright smiles, and Tom was looking over at you, while you looked at the camera. Harry handed you the photo, and you clutched it to your chest. “I’m going to cherish this forever, because I never want to forget last night.”

“Well, you know what they say…” Harry commented, “Hold onto the memories, and they will hold on to you.”

“Oi, didn’t Taylor Swift sing that?” Harrison questioned.

“Oh I don’t know.” Harry remarked, “I think I heard it in a Hallmark movie.”

“You uncultured dunce, Taylor did sing that.” Harrison added with a laugh.

——

additional a/n: I have no idea who to tag since it’s been two years since I updated so if you’d like to be added to my new taglist lemme know!

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland and y/n #tom holland and reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland oneshots #mine

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