#its sucks how the girl characters get pushed to the side for the guys that they *barely* even do anything with
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i think the wording "punishment" is the right one.. more like concequences? to lose one self. what if she wasnt "sleeping the whole time" but instead was in pain? what if she remembers being alone all those years waiting? what if link himself had to do a whole quest to get her back instead of some ghosts doing it- maybe collecting her soul or if the tears actually did something to her instead of being just exposition or maybe even a temple idk! we get an ending where we did the effort to get her back and another where she stays a dragon forever if you dont do the quest. even her just coming back a 7 feet tall zonai dragon thing or having no memory of her life and link has to help her just like she did to him or just anything besides "all i remember was sleeping" lame!!! playing it so safe it feels like nothing was worth it. i love the ending sequence i love the dive and the hug but then her dialogue about being asleep just made me sad. and i dont want her to stay a dragon forever either cause that just makes the misogyny in the writing so much worse :(
i think zelda's character and her writing as a whole should've been sent back to the board. If they wanted the whole idea of Draconification to be effective like- GOD it sucks so bad... She is just so terribly written that it would just make things much worse. Her writing just took a big step backwards, I can't even compare it to BotW cause I feel like that it's own unique of bad of her sealing herself away for a hundred years
making alternative endings like you mentioned here work, maybe also making the dragon tears be more linear to the story than just being an optional sidequest can also work. Like how tloz stories used to be. and man I don't want to go on a long rant about how totk is indecisive if they want the story to be linear or non-linear. Maybe it could connect the dragon tear memories with cutscenes of Zelda recruiting each Sage similar to how in BotW's dlc memories. Giving Zelda more character and the Sages as well.
#totk spoilers#ask txt#sorry if i sidetracked there were just so many ways to fix her as a character#DONT GET ME STARTED ON SONIA OH NOOOOO LITERALLY I GOT HIT WITH THIS WHIPLASH ON HOW SHES TREATED#its sucks how the girl characters get pushed to the side for the guys that they *barely* even do anything with
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A/n; I’ve learned I need to do more smut specifically Poly smut. Because my poly Kirishima and Bakugo got 100 likes ffor being up for two days and my Smut got to 100 likes before my first post. SOO TYSM ❤️ IM A NEW A ACCOUNT AND IT MEANS SO MUCH!!
!Warning!Porn with Slight plot Female and Male
Guess the guy/Girl: Mha 2 poly edition, [Mha 1]
Your tongue sucked and nipped against her soft nub and her puffy folds were being rubbed against your face. Her hips bucked against your face as your fingers edged their way into her seeping whole, her gummy walls flutter over your long fingers.
Your eyes finally opened to look over her face. She was fucked dumb. Her eyes rolling to the point where it could be concerning, her face illuminated red from the harsh blush she had all the meanwhile tears came down her plush soft cheeks. Gasp and whimpers were the only thing that came out of her mouth other than the occasional [Mommy/Daddy].
All the while her boyfriend was fucking his fist staring at the two of you. His tip was bright and angry. You didn’t know if he was pissed or extremely turned on. From a simple “I bet I can make you wish you could fuck me!” After a debate started by Kaminari which wasn’t a shock had led you fucking his girlfriend and him. You could see the puddle of white sticky fluid drip down his long shaft coating his large calloused hand.
Your eyes looked up to meet hers as you felt her tighten even more if that was possible. “Are you gonna cum, princess? Do it..Show your boyfriend how good I make you feel” you purred into clit. She had came at least 9 times that night but you can’t help but feel content at seeing what you were doing to her. But it was painful, while they were both getting off you had no attention directed to you. As your body was untouched
He walls flutter and tighten as she came, again. Her body collapsed as her head hit the pillow under her. You realized that maybe she was done of the night. Your body arched up as you turned to her boyfriend that slowly started to stand. “What do you think you’re doing” you told rather than asked. “You were right, I do want to fuck you. But not only that but completely fucking destroy you” he growled out which was very out of character. Lets say you never new that the class dork could be such a dominant man.
-Next morning
“Damn what kept you up all night?!” Mina said to you as she saw the bags under you eyes. Luckily you decided to wear a turtleneck under your uniform covering the very noticeable hickeys and bruises from him while you had scratches running down your back from her
“Wouldn’t you like to know” your playful and flirty tone still noticeable as ever. As Mina seemed to turn a brighter pink. “Damnnn Mina, you blush at anything they say!” Sero laughed at him. “Its ok if you’re jealous cutie, plenty of me to go around” now that got him to shut up. “Awe why’d you go silent, I love that laugh…” your tone lingered. his face flushed and his head hit his desk all the while mina giggled.
“Whats their problem?” Jirou pointed out to the other side of the class. And there they were looking pissed the fuck off. Ochako puffing out her soft round cheeks straightening her back while Midoriya had a deep scowl lining his face.
During the rest of the day realization dawned upon you. They were jealous. And their antics got worse and worse. Ochako would run her hand ever so slightly up your thighs, pushing up her plump chest purposely all the while she had removed her light pink panties giving them to you while flashing you her pussy every so often.
Lets not forget Midoriya Flexing his muscles at you having you run a hand over his abs, his hands grabbing onto your ass giving a squeeze, while training he would pin you down having his hot breath fan over your neck as his cock rubbed against your arousal multiple times almost as if he wanted to fuck you right then and there.
And all without anyone noticing…
#poly bnha#smut#bnha#bnha smut#mha x reader#bnha deku squad#bnha deku#deku smut#ururaka ochako#bnha ochako#deku x ochako#three bean salad pod
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DAY 5: JANUARY 31, 2024
(i got to start reading more consistently.)
STATS:
read for ~3 hrs
pages read: 1052-1359. 307 pgs. act 4!
slur count: 8 + 1 = 9 (john r slur on 1 of his defaced posters)
silly count: 11 + 0 = 11 (i might have missed some. to be honest)
piss count: 1/3
THOUGHTS:
today started with john's alchemizing spree! i really like the alchemy even though i can NOT understand how the binary and codes quite work. john does though. johns really smart about alchemy in sburb specifically. this section also has a lot of funny john faces. i love this guy
FINALLY the end of dave and bros strife! jesus! been 2 sessions sicne it started! i said this last time but i think its SO INTERESTING how bro doesnt cut or stab dave in any way during the strife. they clash and lil cal gets torn up and daves sword gets 1/2ed and daves SYMBOL gets scratched but when hussie shows dave after the fight hes winded and bruised and battered but hes NOTABLY NOT BLOODY! obviously being bruised cus youre FIGHTING! WITH YOUR DAD! is bad and your dad (bro) is a criminal but. man. how much restraint was bro USING. to be SO PRECISE! did he have to choose between slashing dave and slashing cal in that split second? why else would he possibly have slashed cal? for paradox reasons? i really like dirk strider
the unofficial homestuck collection website is bugging out SO BAD for me. for so many flashes today the music just did not play. it SUCKS! but its fine i just play the music in another tab. i hope they fix that but i know its not priority
i really like the few dave logs i read today. dave is sooooo sad puppy on the other side of a cracked door that sees you and wants to get in the room but cant figure out how to push open the door so he just whines. "hello" "what are you doing" "man where are you" "are you there" he is so cute. in contrast the other dave log today was DAVE AND TAVROS!!!! HOORAY FOR TAVROS! and dave in this one is really funny hes so nonchalant and like "no man. if you want to have sex with a 13 yr old boy okay dude. im on board. time and place." and tavros is like UM! NO! IM GOOD! HAHA! }:) ! they are so funny. the striders are SO internet troll. dave does it flawlessly
KANAYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE KANAYA! SHES MY FAVORITE TROLL! shes so awesome in the kanaya/rose log she is so funny. start talking to this girl like "humans cant understand time travel when its really so simple youre all kind of dumb" and ending with "hey we should be friends". i literally love her
EXILES! not much happened with the exiles. introduced to aimless renegade. what a cop. pa harley heart! thanks for your guns pa!
THE FLASH WHEN ROSE ENTERS THE GAME IS SO COOOOOL!!!!!!!!! i really really like it unfortunately the sound didnt work so all the beats didnt hit quite right but they hit ENOUGH. SO COOL! I LOVE ROSE!!!! theres so much going on all the time for that girl. i love you rose
INTERMISSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i really like the intermission i think its so fun trying to parse what the hell is happening. i have GOT to read problem sleuth because so many of the things i find funny are straight up just problem sleuth bits
hussie averting the readers expectations with the like You have a deck of cards. ==> play solitaire With what cards? Dumbass? Fuck off. You only have your WAR CHEST. i think this is hussie like softdropping his rivalry with his audience. it starts with silly banter and then hes like im going to make a character representing the fandom and im going to kill her off (calliope)
the felt are SO COOL! if anyone knows all the pun names for them lmk. i only know a few obvious ones.
the intermission is SO gory. theres so much blood and death and guns and knives. like ok dude i get youre in mafia gangs or whatever but cool it on the blood and yucky faces! yeesh! there is also more crude jokes in it than normal i think. maybe cus these are real adults with pornography in their briefcases than like 13 yr olds. "jack king off" "you beat it(your heart) pretty often" "fist full of penis" etc
you kjnow what drives me crazy. the ACTUAL REAL TIMELINE of the intermission. or at least what it means for the rest of the comic. obviously the intermission is foreshadowing (esp when slick gets his eye and arm cut off; mentioning lord english; etc) but like. its MORE. when i first read homestuck i was under the impression that the intermission was just some other timeline in some universe. granted i dont remember slicks eye and arm getting nixed or karkat vantas reveal or lord english mention or anything that foreshadows anything. but NO! its NOT some other timeline! but it IS another universe. its ALTERNIA!!!!!!!!!!!
the story of jack noir (spades slick) as i know it is as follows: jack noir spawns in derse ==> commits a crime (probably shittalking the queen) ==> gets exiled to... um. somewhere. ==> i assume he meets karkat here? and stabs him. and karkats blood is revealed and then theyre friends ==> slick (now scurrilous straggler) is left on the green moon? exiled in rags ==> he builds a city ==> the felt's mansion is there also. they form gangs and become rivals ==> intermission starts; midnight crew infiltrates lord english's lair to get the vault prizes ==> slick goes in the vault and begins commanding karkat. if im wrong about any of this correct me im so curious
i really like clubs deuce and diamonds droog. i wish crowbar was in the intermission more. clover is just like nagito komaeda. trace and fin are insaaaane. i wish i knew more about the felt
ACT 4! GAME!!!!! game on lowas. its really cool i didnt get to play it my first readthrough. love the salamanders and love the captchalogue nonsense. it is so fun. thats all for today folks
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What are your top ten favorite scenes in Avatar the Last Airbender?
Thank you so much for the ask!!! Oh my god. This so hard, I've never thought of individual scenes as top favorites but I've tried my best and narrowed it down I think?
Katara v Pakku 'You can't knock me down!': So I watched Avatar when it was first airing as a kid, there weren't many dark-skinned main characters around, especially not girls who fight and certainly not against sexist men who try to stop people from learning. So when I saw this scene, I was at the edge of my seat, it taught me a lot about bravery and I still cheer and clap for Katara when I re-watch the fight.
Sokka throughout The Fortuneteller: I'm an atheist and people didn't exactly take kindly to that when I was a kid & I was infamous as the 'weird kid who probably has no morals'. So seeing Sokka outwardly express skepticism about the spirits & 'higher powers' was very comforting.
Sokka inventing the air balloon solution: I think it was one of the first scenes where I really started liking Sokka. The thing about hot air actually made me read my school textbooks & google stuff to figure out how air currents work, so that helped me with a few science classes about molecules.
Aang in The Storm: It was one of our first glimpses into how he felt about running away, the guilt, the sadness, the pain of being the last of your people with no one to turn to and thinking its all your fault.
Toph fighting the Earth Rumble goons when Aang & her dad are watching: The way she moves is so freaking cool!!! It was her showing exactly how capable she is, she isn't kidding when she says she's the world's best earthbender because yeah, who the heck else could do what she does???
Hama's flashback: Once again I watched this show as a kid, so this was the first time i got confronted with the fact that there will never be a 'perfectly good' or 'perfectly bad' side. People are complicated & I understand what pushed Hama to do what she did but that doesn't excuse it so in that vein;
Katara sucking the water out of the field to fight Hama: It's just badass even if it is angsty.
Aang pulling Ozai down by his beard and encasing him in rock: I mean-- like that is just objectively cool and very embarrassing for the 40-something year old guy. Aang was in top form.
Zuko in the bunker with Ozai: I don't watch too many new cartoons but I don't think any show has ever so explicitly called out the abuser and made sure the abuser is acknowledged as unforgivable. It really put into light for me a lot of things about child-parent relationships, what its supposed to be (forever angry at Boku No Hero Academia for using their Zuko-based character to forgive and redeem his abuser, lf you don't know anything about BNHA this means nothing to you jbcfjhbh sorry).
Yuekka last kiss: They're the ship that first introduced me to tragic romances,. My heart was broken and I kept waiting the entire 3 seasons down to the last episode for Yue to make a return and say "hey guys! so I'm a spirit I'm alive!". I still like it because idk I love angst a lot and the whole story of a princess finding glimpses of freedom in a boy who's traveled the world and yearning for it gets to me.
I'm not remembering other scenes that may have had more impact on me just yet, but a few honorable mentions; Ran and Shao's dance(I LOVE DRAGONS 100/10 they make everything better always), Zuko in the Cooler, Sokka and the cactus juice, Aang's anxiety episode.
Thank you again for asking! This was so fun to do~~
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The closest I ever came to going vegan...
Okja (the super pig. Spoilers)
<Backstory: 'Poker Face' has an episode where a known BBQ guy goes vegan after watching Okja. So I had to see what it was about. Turns out, I like the director's work (All of it) and didn't realize he had such a wide variety of movies.>
Plot is after being paid to raise a super big GMO pig (sold as magic/miracle pig) for 10 years, it's supposed to go back to the company to be made into meat. Young girl doesn't want to give it up. Goes on an adventure to save it. And for a mostly light hearted romp, there is some graphic and violent scenes. Forced breeding, cops beating the FUCK out of people, and probably the most real to life walk thru of a meat processing plant in a movie I ever saw (non documentary).
In the end, at the processing plant, the evil CEO won't give up the pig cuz it's bad business. The girl gives up her solid golden pig statue (what her grandpa basically sold the pig for) in order to save it. And this is all after you saw, step by step, how they would go from killing to chopping up the meat*. So you already sat thru a lot...
but then, something I felt like you would see at a concentration camp. It rocked me...
As the girl is being escorted out with her pig, going by all the locked up and being systematically killed THOUSANDS of other pigs, some of the other pigs are curious and follow them. You don't understand why, until one starts to attack the electric fence, hurting itself. Then you see them push something thru...
THEIR FUCKING BABY!!!! They KNEW they were going to be killed, including their baby, so they took the only chance they had, and threw it to the people escaping. Okja hides the baby in her mouth. As they're walking away, all the other pigs (who have been raised separately) cry in unison as another gunshot to the head can be heard in the background....
GEEZ. I ....wow...you don't come out feeling great if you are a meat eater watching that movie. Cuz you know ALLLLLLL of that is true:
-rich people & businesses (and governments, since the FDA approved it in this movie) only care about the bottom line and will happily shove garbage, toxic garbage, down your throat. And lie every single time they can. <Also, marketing can make you believe anything if it's said loud and happy enough>
-our meat industry is SOULLESS. And we (honestly, self included) genuinely need to eat significantly less. For our health and the planet's health. I mean, do you really think making something live a terrible unhealthy caged life and then murdering it, that its' remains will be SUPER healthy for you? We are gross.
-Every living creature has a soul, can feel, can love, and can suffer.
-again, this is me reading into a foreign movie but FUCK traditions. This all happened cuz her grandpa hated her pet, and wanted her to get married? She was 14 in the movie; Let her live her fucking life.
<The thing that bugged me (little things annoy me): they lived on a mountain top/side. Their water pump was RIGHT at the edge of a cliff. Where the FUCK are you pumping water from? Is there small pockets of water in mountaintops? Do you have one LONG pipe? It just....it was so close to the edge of a MOUNTAINSIDE. Where was the water coming from?>
Either way, great movie (GREAT), but....I would genuinely say this borders on at least a HARD PG rating. If kids have never thought of or heard about this (rich corporations, the meat industry, marketing lies, etc), and find out what they see is MOSTLY true....it may fuck them up.
This is exactly why I like foreign movies too. There were so many times I went 'x happened, so now y happens' and I was pleasantly surprised. It still has some tropes, but nothing completely stolen.
Okja: Solid 8.2/10. My only complaint was tilda swtinon playing herself (AGAIN. How many times can she play 2 characters?), and the CGI kinda sucked. It wasn't horrible, but ain't winning fucking awards. And if it did...holy shit, low standards much?
ps-fav part? I have 2. The beginning, when Okja basically throws itself off a cliff to save the girl and the girl finds her just...farting around, fine, wanting attention. It was so like a pet. 2nd part? STEVEN YUEN! His WHOLE character arc. Also, him playing an asshat. Summary: he's part of a PETA like group, trying to free the super pig. But he lies to get the main girl to be forced to go along with them (and gets the SHIT beaten outta him for lying to the leader.) Then, in the end, he saves the main girl and the leader, outta no where, and shows that he got TATTOOED what his boss beat the shit out of him for doing on his arm. THAT is dedication. Get the shit beat out of you (your fault), kicked out of a group you gave your everything for, come back, AND get a tat to show your dedication? Geez...
*Meat. Why not dead animals? Name specific CUTS of meat instead of the body part... then go by animal. Beef, not dead cow. Pork, not dead pig. Poultry, not dead chicken.....we change the name so you feel less remorse for eating dead things we killed for our own ease (and we don't even do it. We pay others to do it, paying someone to take the guilt. How many if the only way we could eat meat was to kill the animal ourselves could do it ? WAY WAY less than you would think.)
#Okja#movie#spoiler#spoilers#steven yeun#tilda swinton#meat#meats#poultry#beef#pork#pig#cow#chicken#peta
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I’m gonna keep it real with y’all like I do - however it may get long, so I’ll stick it under read more and I won’t be formatting it either.
Today was not my best day, and I know y’all aren’t going to pressure me to write ( btw love y’all for sticking with me. ) However, I need to be honest and open and part of this is for myself.
Today, I had an emotional breakdown because I saw my ex boyfriend on my social media feed as a recommended. He’s living the life that I wanted, married, happy, a child - everything I wanted at one point he is living. That disgusting piece of SHIT doesn’t deserve it, he’s an abuser, he manipulates and he doesn’t care who he burns or hurts. He hurt me in the past and he didn’t care how it was would effect me.
Reason for not continuing my service in the Army? He’s one of the reasons - for the first half of my contract, we were planning on starting a life together, planning where to get stationed so we could be together - often called and video chatted but i noticed his behavior whenever I didn’t pick up a call. I was assumed to be cheating when he was one that did that. He cheated on me with multiple women state side and threw it in my face. He even had a women message me acting like it was him and trying to break us up.
I should have stopped there, I should have ended things but I didn’t because I was in love. I leave korea (as some people know I was stationed there first), I end up in Texas. I was looking forward to seeing him - reconnecting maybe even starting that life that we planned and dreamed about. He only used me for sex, I was nothing more than a body for him to use for his own pleasure and I didn’t know until I left the base he was stationed at. He married the girl he cheated on me with, cheated on her with me because he lied about his relationship with her.
He still did actively cheat and many women told that wife about his actions but apparently they’re living their best life. I don’t have any issues with that woman, but I am scared for her. The men I fell in love with used me, manipulated, isolated and abused me for months and almost years because he used my love as a weakness. I have nothing but pure hate for this man and I wish him nothing but the worse but he took things from me that I will never get back.
I hate living my life with scared, worried and wondering if I even deserve love or to be happy because of how i was treated in the past. I think I’ve purposely gained weight so I wouldn’t be appealing to anyone so there’s never that what if I end up with someone and they hurt me like that man did. it honestly SUCKS having memories pop up, vivid dreams of the guy who did nothing but abuse me for his own enjoyment but on the other side of the god damn fence, he’s living the dream I wanted but gave up on.
Honestly, I’m just venting - Im angry and sad, I cried, i bounced back but I’m so FUCKING emotional ( I can label it as just anger or just sadness because it’s everything NEGATIVE. )
I know for a fact, my time will come and I will heal if I really apply myself. I know I can and I will but this is just the hardest part. I back home, I’m safe, I have a job and I have my friends who matter. We all shared a meal today and I smiled and laughed but now that I’m alone again, I can’t help but reflect and wonder when do I get to be happy?. It comes at its own time and pace, I know but still - god dammit man. Abusers get live their lives and act as if they did nothing wrong but the victims stay stuck and having to build themselves again, tougher and stronger and just change; the person they were before the abuse is gone - now we have to be better and stronger but I deadass didn’t ask for this shit, the joke of “this is just my character development” is honestly sad and heartbreaking.
I’m not gonna curl up and let the depression and anxiety take over; I’m gonna push myself to be better and let myself feel because my emotions are valid but god damn, I need to let this out somewhere. Most likely I’ll make a personal blog just for myself but maybe my words can reach someone so they know that they’re not alone? we CAN and we WILL get through this shit - they throw us to the wolves and we’ll lead the god damn pack. FUCK EVERYONE who has ever hurt us because they WILL regret it.
#♥︎ ┆ ❝ im 5'2" & I'll go down swinging ❞ ⇢ out of chara#tw abuse mention#tw negative#( i promise y'all i'm okay - i just...i need to let this out or Imma be in a rut )
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༻Your Appearance Messed Me Up(yuyeon)༺
Chapter 3/25 + bonus chapter
This is the chapter where a big conspiracy might be found out. Note, its from the guesses of the main characters. Minnie fans, chill, Minnie will appear next chapter. ENJOY!
The next day, Soyeon's room
Soyeon woke up the next morning with a girl lying next to her. Yuqi, she was called, if Soyeon had not brought her home the day before, she would never have believed that she could get such a hot girl to go home with her and sleep on her bed. She had been lesbian and out of the closet for the past 6 years, ever since she had a crush on that girl. What was her name again? Soyeon thought to herself. She was over her after she had found out that the girl was straight.
Soyeon crept out of bed silently, hoping not to wake Yuqi. The poor girl was in a terrible shape when she ran into the convenience store last night. Her body was so nice... Soyeon started day dreaming about Yuqi. Crash! Soyeon walked into the wall and that stopped her train of thoughts. "Ow! That hurts!" She groaned, what a great day it was turning out to be.
She was in the kitchen just finishing the last touches on the very appetising pancakes that she had made. She also made an extra for Soojin in case she came home after sleeping somewhere, probably on one of the couches in the club. Just then, the doorbell rang. "Coming!" She ran to the door and opened it. A girl with long blonde hair was standing outside the door with a phone in her hand. "Where's Yuqi?" She asked.
Wait, she knows Yuqi? What is going on? Is she some bad guy that shot her yesterday? Soyeon's thoughts were all haywire. "Umm... No, No girl named Yuqi here." Soyeon tried to act cool.
"I didn't mention she was a girl." The girl said in a 'I don't give a damn' attitude. She gently pushed Soyeon to the side and walked in. She stood in the middle of the living room, sucked in her breath and shouted, "YUQI!!" Her voice was so loud that Soyeon was certain that her neighbours could hear her shouting.
"Shuhua! Where did you come from? Oh. My. God. Keep your voice down will you. I don't one others to hear that I'm here." Yuqi came out of Soyeon's room and look at Shuhua. The latter ran to her and hugged her tight. "OW!" Yuqi winced.
"What happened to you? Did that woman do this to you?" Shuhua shot a dirty look at Soyeon.
"Firstly, she did not do this to me," Yuqi pointed at her wound, "Secondly, she's Soyeon. Lastly, I met some random lady with a few thugs. I shot the thugs and the lady shot me. Wait, how did you find me?"
"Computer genius here. Tracking app that I made." Shuhua replied with a proud look on her face. "So Soyeon, as you probably have heard, her name is Shuhua. Can we eat?" Yuqi introduced Shuhua to Soyeon. They walked to the dinning table and sat down. Luckily I made three sets of pancakes. Soyeon thought to herself.
"Click." The sound of a key being placed into a keyhole was heard. Soojin walked into the house and looked around. There were 2 strangers in her house and one of them seemed so familiar. "Soyeon, I'm going to go catch up on some sleep. I had such a long night yesterday." Soojin said.
Shuhua's POV
Oh My God. Who was that girl that just walked in? She's so hot. Those shorts that she is wearing, it shows her curves perfectly. I love it.
Yuqi's POV
Her voice, she sounds so familiar. Her clothes, why is it so similar to the assassin that tried to kill me? Who is she? Is she in the mafia?
Without thinking, I grab the pistol that I knew was in Shuhua's side pocket. I pointed at the girl and growled, "Who the hell are you?"
She looked at me. She looked at the pistol and the look on her face! She was not scared of the gun. She must be in the mafia. I thought. "Put it down." She said.
"I'm asking you! Who the hell are you?" I repeated. She tilted her head to the side and looked at the safety lever. "You know, that the safety is on right?" She asked, completely chill. Shit! I thought. I quickly flipped it off. "Now?"
"Yuqi! put that gun down!" I heard Soyeon shout from somewhere beside me. I ignored her.
"Are you that woman on the roof yesterday? Are you that assassin that tried to kill me last night? Who's your boss? I can keep you alive if you tell me who your boss is." I hissed, my voice terribly low.
"So you are that famous Yuqi that Boss is talking about? Nice moves you had. Manage to sense my presence from behind you." She smirked. "My boss is someone called Song Yang."
Dad...? I was shocked.
"Mr Song?" I heard Shuhua mutter. "I thought that was your dad. Why would your dad want to kill you?"
"What? I thought he was in charge the Chinese branch?" I asked still shocked. My hand was shaking so badly. The gun looked like it was about to fall out of my hand.
"So he's in charge of the Chinese branch? I thought he was in charge of the Korean branch?" Soojin asked also confused, "I think we are in some kind of conspiracy here. Maybe if you put the gun down we can talk about it." I lowered my hand, turned on the safety and handed the gun to Shuhua and sat down. I pointed to the seat opposite me and gestured for her sit.
"Soyeon, go for work, if you don't have it today go to your room and listen to some music. Do not eavesdrop."
Soyeon's POV
What are they talking about? Korean branch? Chinese branch? Conspiracy? What was going on? Thoughts rushed through my head like a moving train as I made my way to my room. I am thankful that Soojin asked me to go to my room. I needed time to think.
Yuqi's POV
"Yuqi, do you remember that when you were 16 when your dad went to Korea? He came back and you told me he changed entirely. Remember the times when you were beaten by your father because of simple things? When he came back and you accidentally made a mistake and he didn't even scold you for it. He just let it go. That's so not him. Is it possible that he was killed or kept in a place by some kind of jerk and the jerk had cosmetic surgery to look like him. Is it possible that this jerk is with the Korean branch?" Shuhua guessed.
"It's possible, because the last time I've seen Boss was when I just joined when I was 17 in November. He was terrible to me and I did not like him. He nearly killed me once. I had to drop out of university. Also, he was terrible to everyone in the company. He did not care who lived or died. He looked Korean, but some of the people in the company have said that he went through cosmetic surgery and he was frequently overseas. They said he was also fluent in Chinese. Maybe your idea is possible. Oh yeah, my name's Soojin" Soojin agreed. I looked closely at the two of them. There was something in Shuhua's eyes, was it love? Love for Soojin? I chose to ignore that.
"How is that possible?" I muttered. "My head feels like its gonna burst." I was so confused. Dad? An imposter? The he must know a lot about the Chinese branch. He will overthrow the Chinese branch!
"Soojin, do you want to help us? Help us get some files on the Korean branch in X Company. That way we can find a way to lure him out alone in Korea and if our suspicions are correct, I can kill him here and say that he died due to some other the reasons and I will get the Chinese branch. If you help us, I think you can change the current situation in the Korean branch." I asked her. I was good at strategising.
"I think that I can help you for now, but I will need to look and assess the situation as we go." Soojin frowned and replied.
sorry for posting after such a long time😓
#soyeon#yuqi#yuyeon#gidle#minnie#miyeon#shuhua#soojin#sooshu#fanfiction#yuqi x soyeon#song yuqi#jeon soyeon#kim minnie#cho miyeon#seo soojin#yeh shuhua#mimin#minnie x miyeon#soojin x shuhua
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viki & hickeys
the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries
MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide
RATING m (18+)
WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks
Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.
“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?
You’re not so sure.
It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.
“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”
You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”
She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.
You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)
“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.
“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.
There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.
“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”
You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”
His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.
“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”
Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.
Oh, you loved this man.
Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.
It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”
“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.
It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.
“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.
“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.
If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.
“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.
“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”
“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.
“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.
It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“
“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.
“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”
You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?
He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?
Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.
“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”
A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”
Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”
It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.
“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”
A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”
It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”
Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”
Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.
“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.
There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.
You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”
“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.
On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.
Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”
You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.
“I thought he was cool before.”
He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.
You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.
Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”
“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“
“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.
It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.
He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.
(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.
But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.
“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”
“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.
“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”
Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.
It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.
He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.
Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“
“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.
“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.
“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.
“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”
“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.
Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.
Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.
You whimper. “That hurt.”
“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.
Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.
Of course.
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.
It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.
And you’re all too ready to act on it.
Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.
But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.
“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.
The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.
“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.
He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.
“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.
“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.
It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.
“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.
Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.
Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.
Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.
He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.
“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.
He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.
Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”
You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”
It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”
And it’s true.
You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.
He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.
“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.
“I kinda do—“
“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.
“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.
“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.
“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.
“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.
It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.
You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.
“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.
“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.
“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.
“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.
“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.
“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.
“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.
“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.
“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.
“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”
He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.
“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.
epilogue
Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.
He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.
“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.
“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“
“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”
“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”
There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”
epi-epilogue
The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.
“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.
“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”
And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.
“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jjk smut#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader smut#bts jungkook#bts fic#bts smut#mine
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Lover Bouquet : One
Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader
AU: Yandere!au, Idol!au
Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut (R)
Warnings: Two instances of NON CON, polyamory, established relationship, yandere behavior, pregnancy discussion, emotional abuse, violence, kidnapping, scandal, blood, degradation kink, mobbing, manipulation, profanity, group sex, oral, smut, cum play, groping
Word count: 19.58k
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.
This is an idol au setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.
Author’s note: This fic is set in an au where the boys are part of a 7-member boy band called the Biker Boys Squad (BBS) and everything that follows is completely fictional with no intended resemblance to actual places, bands or agencies.
Cover credit: @maleficosmos-2 ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ, ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸᵎ
─── ·❆· ───
The smooth roll of wheels outside had visibly no impact on the inside of the limousine. The shiny interior, complete with Italian leather and crystal wine glasses screamed luxury. The windows were completely tinted, reflecting the bright lights of every radiant storefront the car zoomed past.
The car smelt like heaven, a bouquet of smells fanning your nostrils and intoxicating you. Cologne, aftershave, hairspray, all the most delicious masculine smells danced around your senses, tugging at your inner coil that was slowly rearing its head up.
Namjoon was going through a little chit in his hand, mostly out of habit than necessity. He didn’t really depend on those notes, but it gave him a sense of security to know he had all the points in hand before stepping up to the mic.
“Hyung, add a line in English at the end for our International fans,” Taehyung said, peering over at the chit in Namjoon’s hand. The little note had words written in neat Korean letters, which the younger man glanced at.
“Yeah, will do, Tae,” the elder man responded, his hand reaching down to pat the head nestled in his crotch.
“Keep going, baby girl,” he said, gently ruffling your hair as he resumed scanning the chit. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting on either side of him, Jimin casually sipping the Cheval Blanc from his crystal glass, his pillowy pink lips made even glossier by the fine red wine.
You bobbed your head up and down Namjoon’s length, savoring his unique scent with your cheeks hollowed out around him, sucking deep and hard.
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he hissed, too far gone to focus on his acceptance speech anymore.
Jimin smiled warmly, his hand snaking down to Namjoon’s lap. His fingers gripped your hair, and he tugged it gently, seeking control over your head. You obliged happily, letting him maneuver your head as he liked.
He slowly pushed you further and further down Namjoon’s shaft, his eyes trained on Namjoon’s face, watching his face twist in hunger. Jimin’s palm was flat against your skull, pushing you to gobble Namjoon’s cock without sparing an inch.
Yoongi was playing a game on his phone, and he looked up just in time to see you struggling against Jimin’s hand.
“Let her breathe, Jiminah,” he lazily scolded, his gummy smile out in full brilliance.
“N- no,” Namjoon panted, looking at Yoongi with pleading eyes. “So close- I’m so close.”
And with that, he groaned out loud, his hips bucking up subconsciously. He ground his body down to the leather seat, his legs trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm.
The hand pressing against your head stayed put, not budging until Namjoon’s legs stopped shivering. Namjoon leaned back and removed his glasses, wiping his hot forehead with a groan. The hand left your hair, moving down to caress your neck.
“Feeling good, hyung?” Jimin’s voice came to your ears like a song.
“You wouldn’t believe how good, Jiminie,” the elder man replied, his breaths coming out in strained intervals.
“Tch, baby…” Jimin said, handing you a Kleenex to wipe your mouth. “You left a drop on Hyung’s trousers.”
Namjoon snapped his head down, his eyes rolling when he saw the single blob of cum on his crotch.
“Damn, those paparazzi will roast us alive,” he murmured, reaching down to wipe it clean.
“No, Joonie,” you whined, hastening to dip your head back down on his crotch. Namjoon’s hand remained suspended in the air with his fingers grasping a tissue, his thigh muscles tensing up when you timidly licked a stripe on his expensive trousers, gathering the blob and sucking it up.
“Oh Y/N, you are so fucking naughty,” Jimin giggled, pulling you up so you could rest your knees.
“Come here, baby,” Yoongi said, his voice thick and raspy. He had waited patiently until Namjoon finished, and now he couldn’t wait a second longer.
Hoseok was sitting next to Yoongi, and the seats were somewhat cramped because four of them were sitting across from Namjoon. The limousine had been altered to their taste, but the seats were a bit smaller than needed.
“Here,” Jin extended his hand, pulling you so you could sit on his lap.
You took advantage of the brief moment to lock your lips against Jin’s neck.
“Hey, no hickeys,” he said, gently swatting at your shoulder. “It’s awards night. No hickeys.”
You puckered your lips up in disappointment. You were only pretending to bite him, just to see his eyes flash. Stern Jin was so fucking sexy.
Yoongi was in the far corner of the seat, and Jin being the smart guy he was, always found a solution.
“Lie down on our thighs,” he said, helping you sprawl yourself across the three sets of thighs, the tips of your toes resting on the owner of the fourth set.
Yoongi’s fingers worked quickly on his zipper, and Jimin’s clear voice teased, “Hyung, you’ll be wrinkling your Saint Laurent suit if you wiggle around too much.”
“Y/N is worth ruining a thousand Saint Laurent suits, Jiminah,” Yoongi quipped as he fished his dick out.
Jin’s long sensitive fingers drew soft circles on your calves, admiring your splendid legs. He brushed his fingers against the curve of your ass, finally settling down to squeeze and knead the firm flesh in his big palms.
The man next to Jin sighed heavily, looking out of the window and squinting through the tinted glass. He had a hard time trying to control himself, but the little toes that kept grazing his thighs distracted him. He bent his head, fighting himself to avoid looking at the sight around him. Of all the men in the limo, Jungkook was the only one who wasn’t staring at your body with simmering lust.
Yoongi was groaning, his hand fisting in your hair as he guided you to take him even deeper. He rested his head against Hoseok’s shoulder, closing his eyes and losing himself in bliss.
Hoseok gazed at Yoongi’s scrunched-up face with warm affection. He always felt supremely happy when Yoongi was having a good time. Your torso was laid on his lap, and he patted your back, encouraging you with soft whispers of praise.
“Yes, baby, that’s it keep going. You’re doing so good.”
Yoongi’s vein bulged alongside his cock, throbbing hard. He was straining so much, curling his toes inside his shoes.
“Gosh, I wanna get inside you,” he moaned, his voice coming out needy and whiny. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, whistling at his wristwatch.
“We’re gonna be on the red carpet in ten minutes, hyung,” he said, clucking his tongue. Yoongi opened his eyes, sending Jin his best pleading look right from his position on Hoseok’s shoulder.
Jin pursed up his pretty lips, looking down at your butt. It was not an easy feat to have full-on sex in the limo. As usual, he was the one who had to improvise a plan.
“Ten minutes is enough for a quickie,” Yoongi whined, his meat still lodged in your hot mouth.
“Okay okay, quit whining. Y/N baby, go sit on Namjoon’s lap,” Jin said, patting your ass. Namjoon looked up, removing his glasses and tucking them inside his breast pocket. He wished he had thought about asking Jin earlier.
You grinned and crawled over to Namjoon, cozying up with your back against his chest, his strong muscular arms spreading your legs wide open.
“All yours, hyung,” Namjoon said, nodding at Yoongi.
It was such a pretty sight to see your red lace undies completely soaked. Hoseok couldn’t hold on anymore, and his hand slipped down to palm himself through his pants.
Yoongi licked his lips, unbuckling his belt for better access. Your legs were already open for him, and Jimin had started caressing your clit with gentle touches. He crouched into a half-kneeling position, grazing his tip against your core.
“Please, just fuck me already,” you cooed, unable to bear Jimin’s teasing anymore. You had to have a cock inside you, it was urgent. Jimin was such a tease, and he enjoyed working you up into a frenzy.
Yoongi smirked, winking at Jimin and slamming his hips into yours, burying himself into you completely.
The car started slowing down, and Jin’s panicked voice rang behind Yoongi’s heaving form.
“We’re here, there’s so many cameras! Stop it, you two!”
Sure enough, there were hundreds of cameras outside, flashes going off every few seconds, waiting for the biggest boyband in the world to step out onto the red carpet.
Yoongi pounded into you harder, sweat running down his temples. He was growling with each thrust, the sound rumbling from deep inside his chest and sending a delicious thrill up your spine.
The car rolled to a stop, directly in front of the sea of people. Hushed murmurs were going around as everyone strained to peer through the tinted windows.
“What’s up? Why aren’t they stepping out?”
“Is something the matter?”
“Are you sure they are inside?”
A few reckless journalists tried to inch closer and glance through the windows. But the blinding camera lights reflected off the glass, completely blocking out the interior of the limousine.
Inside, Jimin hastened to pat down Yoongi’s streaming face, his nerves strung out completely. Yoongi buckled over and collapsed on Namjoon’s shoulder, blissed out at his climax. Jin grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back into his seat.
There was no time to be lost, and you got to work immediately, sucking Yoongi clean and zipping him up. You were just done tucking his shirt back neatly when one of the agency’s managers politely knocked on the door.
Looking up, you grinned at Yoongi, patting his knee.
“All done. Off you go, guys.”
You stayed back, keeping yourself hidden while the boys got out of the car one by one, smiling and waving at the crowd. The camera flashes multiplied manifold, clicking incessantly as the lenses gobbled up your boyfriends.
─── ·❆· ───
“I miss you,” you whined, pouting at your phone screen. Hoseok’s gorgeous face pouted too, as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“I miss you too, Y/N. Everyone does.”
A chorus of groans behind Hoseok declared their assent. Taehyung’s head popped into the screen, and he settled his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder.
“It’s so frustrating without you, Y/N.”
You sighed and shook your head sadly.
“I know, it’s the same here.”
“Hold up, Yoongs wants to talk,” Hoseok said, moving his phone and pushing it into Yoongi’s hand.
“Babe...” he drawled, only half-awake from his power nap. “Get on a flight and come over.”
You twisted the cord on the hoodie you were wearing.
“How? You guys are all so busy. You’re touring so many places. Besides, your schedule is jam-packed.”
Namjoon’s voice piped up from the background.
“I got an idea.”
─── ·❆· ───
“Are you sure this will work?” you asked, shimmying into the black uniform Namjoon had brought you.
“Of course. You can travel with us throughout the tour and no one will know.”
Taehyung whistled on seeing your outfit.
“You know hyung, I’m beginning to see why they call you the brain of our band.”
Namjoon chuckled, his dimples popping out.
“Yeah,” Jimin said, holding you by the shoulders and turning you over to let the others see. “This is brilliant.”
The white letters were stamped boldly on the back of your outfit.
‘BBS CREW’
Jin came closer, pinning an identity badge on the belt loop of your jeans.
“There. You’re officially a crew member now.”
There was a knock on the door, and you ran to hide behind the clothes rack.
“We’re all set,” a crew member said, gesturing that it was time to go on stage. “In five.”
She left the door half open, and you peeped out from behind the rack.
“Time to go?” you asked.
“Yep,” Jin said, gripping your hand. “Come with us.”
There were so many people wearing the same outfit as yours, milling around the backstage rooms. It was very easy to blend in.
You walked with the guys to the very entrance they would go through, heart fluttering to hear the thunderous welcome they received from the audience as they stepped on stage.
It was a terrific experience to stay so close to the stage and see them perform. It was even more astounding to watch the audience get enthralled in the magic your boyfriends created. You stood at the wings, your heart swelling with pride.
After a while, it was finally time for a break, and the guys made their way off stage. They were soaked in sweat, and were panting hard.
“Sprained my ankle,” Hoseok whispered, limping gingerly while Jimin supported him.
“Fan, please,” Yoongi groaned, and a crew member hurried to get him a mini fan.
People were running everywhere, stylists were dabbing touch ups to the makeup and assistants were helping the guys change into the outfits for the next routine.
You hurried to Hoseok’s side, kneeling beside him and taking his hand. A medic was tending to his sprain, and you squeezed his hand tenderly.
“You okay?” you whispered, and he managed a weak nod.
“Better rest this foot,” the medic murmured, to which Hoseok shook his head.
“No. Rest after the concert. Gotta dance.” He was clenching his teeth tightly.
A heavy hand gripped your shoulder, and you looked up. Namjoon was standing with a mini fan, sweat streaming down his face.
“He won’t listen to the medic,” you said in a low voice.
“I know,” he sighed, gently pulling you up to your feet. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like this all the time.”
You nodded, looking around. Everyone was holding mini fans and wiping their sweat off with towels. Yoongi was sprawled out on the floor, and a crew member was fanning him with a big cloth.
“This is hard,” you said, turning back to face Namjoon.
“Yes. But they’re all strong. They’ll handle it.”
You nodded again. This was something they were used to. It would take you some time to get used to it, though.
“Here,” Namjoon said, clasping your hand and walking towards the wings again. The audience were still energetic, doing the fan chant over and over until the guys would get on stage again. Their light sticks were glowing bright, lighting up the whole arena and making it feel as if the stars had rained down to watch the concert.
“See that?” Namjoon whispered, his voice taking on a tone of astonishment. “That’s surreal. So much love, so much energy. They’ve all camped out in the cold for two days. Forget us, imagine how much they’d have gone through to get here.”
You hummed in agreement, still lost in the beauty of the light sticks.
“That’s who we perform for,” Namjoon said, his voice warm and sincere.
You smiled and looked back at his shining face. His eyes were reflecting the radiance of thousands of light sticks.
“Stand by in three...” someone’s voice shouted, and all the guys shot up to their feet with exhausted groans.
They assembled in line again, ready to get on stage for the next performance. One by one, they hurried through the entrance, until everyone except Namjoon had gone back to the waiting area.
“Namjoon-ssi!” someone screamed in alarm, and you shook his arm to get him going.
“Go on, Joon,” you hissed, trying to push him into action.
He looked at you in a daze, and dipped his head urgently.
“Namjoon-ssi!” Another voice called out in emergency, when he cupped your chin and captured your lips in a frantic kiss.
You saw people running towards Namjoon out of the corner of your eyes. There were confused shouts, as the red digital timer counted down the seconds to cue the music.
In a quick flash, he broke the kiss and squeezed your hand, running over to join his mates on stage.
─── ·❆· ───
“Jinnie?”
The mischievous eyes twinkled at you when he replied with a coy “Hm?”
You were lying on his chest, content with listening to his heartbeat thudding away. When you raised your head to look at him, you placed your chin on his ribs, making him squirm and giggle.
“Y/N! It tickles!”
He was still laughing, trying to lift your pointy chin when your next words caught him off-guard.
“Jungkook was so sulky today.”
His laughter died down, the glee on his face replaced with an inscrutable emotion.
“Do you know why?” you pressed, not ready to leave it undiscussed. “He looked like-” you batted your lashes, “-like he was pissed off at us.” You drew a long breath. “Mostly at me.”
Jin was quick to cup your cheek, tutting at the last comment.
“Of course not, Y/N. He was probably nervous about the concert.” He could clearly see that you weren’t convinced. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
You nodded, lost in thought. Did Jungkook not want to be part of the relationship? He hadn’t kissed you or said a kind word to you in days. He had flinched hard when you had touched him earlier in the day. You were about to open your mouth and voice out your thoughts when the bed dipped beside you, and Taehyung’s large sinewy hands landed on your waist.
“Jin hyung, I need to cuddle Y/N to sleep,” he said, his sleepy voice deeper than it normally was.
You swallowed your words, forgetting your thoughts at the deep voice booming into your back. Jin hummed his acknowledgment to Taehyung, gazing at the ceiling in peace, content with having you draped on his chest.
The boys rarely closed their doors, because it was so normal for one or the other to pop into your room at night. You were in love with all of them, yes, but you always slept with Jin. He had been your first boyfriend, and it was a given that you would go to bed with him every night.
The rest of them dropped by sometimes, as Taehyung had just done. Sometimes it even led to threesomes and steamy hot sex. But tonight, you were content with the Jin-Taehyung sandwich. Because the boys were frequently in and out of the room, you left the door open at night.
A digital watch somewhere in one of the rooms lit up its iridescent digits, sounding a slight chime when it turned 2 am.
You were having a dream, and the sound interrupted it, waking you up. You had no desire to open your eyes. You lay with your eyes closed, listening to Jin’s even breathing in tranquil happiness.
Taehyung moaned slightly in his sleep, burying his head into your neck and crushing you tighter against his chest. His thick hair brushed against your skin, and you grudgingly opened your eyes.
It was so dark, and you made out Jin’s hand stretched towards you, in case you wanted to nestle into the crook of his armpit. You smiled to yourself, loving how sweet he was. You wanted to crawl into his arms, so you decided to move slightly.
You raised your head, and your sleep-heavy eyes caught sight of a figure sidling along the open door, the sudden apparition eliciting a strangled scream from deep within your bosom. You rubbed your eyes and squinted again, but the apparition had vanished.
“What? What is it?”
Jin was up in an instant, his groggy voice somehow soothing your anxiety. Taehyung woke up too, and between them, they asked you what had happened, and you pointed at the door with shaking fingers.
“I- think I saw someone. Something.”
Jin squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.
“Y/N, baby, what exactly did you see?”
Your nerves were shaken so bad you couldn’t raise your voice above a whisper.
“Someone- was watching… me. I only saw the eyes. And then- it- disappeared.”
Jin looked at Taehyung, the brief glance laden with meaning.
“Okay, I’ll go investigate. Taehyung, stay with Y/N.”
Jin got out of bed, tiptoeing out of the room in search of the mysterious apparition. Taehyung hooked his chin on your shoulder, hugging you protectively and blowing air softly on your neck. Jin was gone for a good ten minutes before he returned to the room.
“I did a thorough sweep, Y/N. There’s no one at the house except the guys.”
He climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over his legs. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.
“Don’t worry baby, even if he or she comes back, you’ve got two strong boyfriends in this room to protect you.”
God, Jin was so good at making you feel perfectly safe. You smiled and squeezed his hand back. Taehyung hummed behind you, agreeing to Jin’s words.
In a few minutes, Jin was peacefully breathing again, his hand resting on your waist. It was heavy, but the weight gave you reassurance.
─── ·❆· ───
“Yoongi!”
Hoseok’s morning routine included waking up his friend and kicking him out of bed. The guy was simply impossible to rouse, and the rest of the guys steered clear of his morning temper. He reserved a string of eloquent curses to fire at the unfortunate person who woke him up, intentional or otherwise.
Hoseok and you were the only ones immune to his foul mouth. Hoseok simply cursed back at him, and you had a completely different method of waking Yoongi up. A method that involved locking your lips around his morning wood and humming around it.
Today, however, you weren’t around to save Hoseok’s ears.
“Where the hell is Y/N?�� Hoseok muttered to himself, ripping the sheets off the man curled like a kitten underneath. Yoongi had a large queen-sized bed, but he insisted on rolling into a ball when he slept. It was endearing to find him curled up like that, but the next moment he would hiss and scowl, cross at being woken up. That man certainly ran hot and cold so quickly.
Yoongi opened his mouth, ready to go off, when Hoseok pushed a pillow into his face.
“Save your breath. I’m gonna go find Y/N. Get your ass off the bed, hyung.”
The rest of the guys were up and about, chattering noisily and clattering dishes in the kitchen.
“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU USE THAT PAN FOR THE EGGS?”
“Taehyung I swear to God if you break that plate…”
“Namjoon just flip the pancake, man you’re burning it!”
Hoseok waded through the noise, walking down the kitchen and crossing a suite of rooms. His sharp ears picked up your whimpers, and he followed the sounds, briskly trotting towards the source.
The door was half-open, and he stepped in, not bothering to knock.
“Goodness, what a racket!”
Jimin had you pinned up against the wall, your legs wrapped tight around his lithe body. One of his hands was around your neck, and the other was working on rubbing your clit. He had been ramming into you hard, and he jerked to a stop at Hoseok’s voice.
“Hobi hyung!”
Hoseok licked his lips when he saw your pretty little cunt filled to the brim with Jimin’s thick cock. He felt himself stirring in his pants.
“Such a noisy one,” he said, walking towards you. “I could hear her whining all the way in the kitchen.”
Jimin grinned, his eye-smile lighting up his face.
“I’m doing my job right then.”
Hoseok snickered, tracing his finger along the bridge of your nose, bringing it over your lips. You opened up obediently, sucking on his finger with closed eyes, still impaled on Jimin’s cock.
“You need something to stuff your mouth with, darling,” Hoseok murmured, and you nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied though, and he glanced at Jimin, and the latter slipped out of you without a word.
“No,” you moaned around the finger, whimpering at the loss.
“Use your words like a good girl, baby,” Hoseok said, popping his finger out of your mouth. “Only then you’ll get Jimin’s dick back.”
You loved it when Hoseok was all riled up and ready to snap. He was delicious when danger oozed out of his persona, threatening you into submission.
“My mouth needs to be stuffed, Hobi,” you said, drawing the syllables out sexily.
“With what, baby?”
Jimin’s sly smile returned, and he bit his lip while he waited for your pretty lips to form the words.
“With your cock.”
“That’s right.”
Hoseok nodded at you, and Jimin set you down gently, untangling your legs from his hips. You went down on all fours, and Hoseok turned so his back was supported against the wall. He sunk his fingers into your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your face towards his crotch.
You had learned the art of unzipping pants with your teeth, so it was easy to unzip him. Behind you, Jimin was spitting on his palm and stroking his length.
“Please,” you whispered, lust blinding you. “Please fuck me.”
The men grinned at each other, and with one savage push, Jimin sheathed himself inside you again. Hoseok had been slapping his dick against your cheek, and when you opened your mouth to moan at Jimin’s entrance, Hoseok took the chance to push himself inside your warm silky mouth.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand grabbing at your roots hard. “Beat that pussy hard, Jiminah.”
Between the two of them, they found a steady rhythm that let you get fucked on both sides without any lag. Jimin was going at it hard, slamming himself into you like it was his last day on earth. It was sinfully delicious to hear his angelic voice groaning loud with each thrust.
You moaned around Hoseok’s cock, tapping his thighs softly. He stopped abruptly, looking down at you in concern. He slipped out of your mouth gently.
“Yes, baby?”
You ran your finger on your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your mouth. You knew it always drove him crazy when you did that.
“Hobi, sit on my face.”
A smirk spread on Hoseok’s face, and he chuckled lightly.
Jimin pulled your hips towards him, helping you lie down on the floor. Hoseok gently placed your head down, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable in the slightest. And then, he knelt so his thighs were on either side of your face, and dipped his pelvis down a bit, ghosting his weight on you.
You reached out and pulled his thighs closer, whining “Just sit on me please.”
He giggled, his whole body vibrating in mirth.
“Want me to teabag you, little slut?” He lowered himself down a little more. “Huh? Is that what you want?”
“Mmnnhhhh” you buried your face into his balls, and Jimin lay down flat on the floor, his face burrowed into your clit. His lovely lips clasped tight around your bud, his tongue working hard and fast to reduce you to a pool of wobbly jelly.
Above you, Hoseok grabbed his dick and pumped himself hard, dipping his balls in and out of your mouth all the while. He growled when you sucked on them and used your teeth to slightly graze them.
His hands roamed over your chest, gathering your breasts and massaging them. He saw Jimin eating you out at a feral pace, and a fresh pang of want made his dick throb. He aligned his cock between your supple mounds, starting to fuck your breasts while you suckled on his balls.
“Fuck, Y/N. You are a damn fucking goddess,” he breathed, picking up his pace and working his cock faster, amazed at how your breasts bounced so beautifully around him. His thighs started quivering, and you could feel his sweat beginning to moisten his skin. He was so close.
He ran his hands over your breasts and traveled down, leaning forward a bit, doubling up so that his face was in level with your navel. His hot breath sent all your nerves into overdrive, and he started kissing a line down to your belly button.
You moaned out loud, but the sound came out strangled because you had a mouthful of balls. Jimin felt you tremble and shake under him, and he smiled into your pussy. He worked his finger into you, curling and twirling proving even his fingers could dance.
You felt Hoseok’s tongue lick a hot circle around your belly button, and that was it for you. There were stars in your vision, and you trembled so hard that Jimin gripped your calves tight, helping you ride it out. Hoseok straightened his back, seeing you shake all over. He put his arm around your neck and held on to your shoulder, wiping your sweaty forehead and kissing your hand softly, cooing to you.
Jimin shot up the next moment, wiping his mouth and laughing that sweet tinkling laugh.
“Hyung, she squirted all over me!”
Hoseok had just finished shooting his cum all over your breasts, and you strained to look at Jimin.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Jimin.” Hoseok tilted his hips and you propped yourself up to look at the mess you had created. All of Jimin’s shirt, right from the collar to his torso, was soaked.
“I’m sorry... let me clean it,” you reached your hand out, and he simply swatted it away.
“What are you sorry for? Lie back down and let me eat your pussy again, baby.”
─── ·❆· ───
Eighteen months ago
“Jinnie,” you called, turning to face your boyfriend who was stuffing his face with noodles. You were fidgeting before the mirror, unsure what your boyfriend’s reaction would be.
“Huh, babe?” he asked, still busy scraping the last bits of noodles from the takeout box.
You quickly stole one last look at yourself in the mirror and then marched to the side of the bed. His suit was strewn over the white sheets, and he was in his boxers, slurping noodles like his life depended on it.
“Tell me if this dress is okay,” you said, standing directly before him.
“Why, that’s a lovely dress, you’re so pretty!” He paused to fan his mouth, the spice finally catching up to him. “Hot. Damn hot. You. And the noodles.” He fluttered his hands wildly, coughing dramatically.
You tossed a water bottle to him, giggling at his red face.
“So,” he said, sipping the water thankfully, “why do you even ask that? I bought that dress for you.” He scrunched his nose up, looking at you in mischief. “Are you doubting my taste?”
He got a well-aimed pillow thrown against his face, and he laughed.
“Why else would you ask?” he raised his voice like a bratty child.
“This.”
You pointed to your boobs, biting your lip. He pushed the cushion under his head, ogling at your body lazily.
“I don’t see anything wrong with your rack.” He smiled proudly to himself. “You look awesome.”
“But,” you sighed, nervously pulling at the fabric. “The neckline- it’s too deep.”
“So? It’s even more sexy.”
He didn’t seem to get it.
“Seokjin,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What about the rest of the guys? What would they think? Isn’t this more... like… suitable for when we go on a date, alone, just the two of us?”
“Ah.” He finally understood what you were going on about. The dress had a very low neckline, and you found it weird that he had suggested you wear it to the party with his friends.
He cleared his throat as if he were going to say something. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not a sound escaping his lips.
“Y/N, listen. I need to tell you something. But can it wait until after the party?”
He saw the curiosity burning on your face, but you managed to nod.
“Also, don’t forget to wear the fishnet stockings I got you.”
You tilted your head and gazed at him, pursing your lips.
“Are you trying to show off before the guys, Kim Seokjin?” you asked, accusingly.
He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Just wear it to the party and I’ll tell you all about it later.”
———❖———
You were slipping your heels off, Seokjin was lending you his arm to balance yourself. He had looked stunning in his suit, and you had loved the way his eyes streamed while he joked and kept everyone in splits.
It was a very hush-hush party open only for the label’s artists and their dates. Seokjin didn’t have much privacy in his life, and he tried his best to take advantage of the precious few private parties that came his way.
“Careful,” he said, catching hold of your arm just before you slipped. “I don’t know what you get by torturing your feet like that.”
You simply giggled, pouting your lips at him. “You’re too tall, Jinnie. I need to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”
And there, you had done it. You had made the master of jokes blush so hard his ears turned red. He cleared his throat, his breadcheeks straining hard to contain his smile.
“Let’s go and have a drink.”
He tried to walk ahead, but you caught his sleeve and tugged.
“Jin, tell me what the big secret is,” you mewled, loving how good his toned arms felt. “You know, you said there’s something you had to say.”
He patted your knuckles, nodding sweetly.
“I know. That’s what I need the drink for.”
You huffed, watching him saunter over to the cabinet to pull a bottle of wine. He was so damn hot when he was in suits, but he was hotter when he was pulling his bow loose and mussing his hair. You followed him to the bedroom, tagging along like a lovesick puppy.
The rest of the chaotic group were drinking and fooling around in the living room, rocking the walls with their boisterous laughs. It wasn’t unusual for Jin to bring the boys over; they were always hanging around one time or the other.
“Ahem.”
You crossed your arms, and the gesture didn’t help Jin. Your boobs were squished together and the deep neckline made it impossible for him to focus. He licked his lips and took another sip of the wine to steady his nerves.
But Jin had such an easy relationship with you. He knew that he could talk to you about anything. He trusted you so much that he just knew what he was about to say wouldn’t break your relationship. He just needed to find a way to break the ice.
“Come here,” he murmured, patting his thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”
You glided towards him, settling down on his lap happily. Your cleavage was even closer now, and Jin just lost control.
He placed his glass down, not caring about staining the rug. With a deep moan, he pushed his face into your chest, burrowing into his favorite place in the world. He rubbed his face against the soft flesh, purring in delight.
You let him be, carding your fingers through his thick glossy hair. He would talk when he was ready. Meanwhile, you would enjoy your boyfriend’s attention contently. His teeth were grazing your skin now, sucking soft love bites to show his appreciation.
“Jin,” you breathed, and he lost it completely.
“Fuck, yeah. Say my name like that.”
He lifted his head to look into your eyes, and you saw the rich want coloring his pupils.
“Lemme inspect my girl,” he whispered, pushing his hand between your legs and feeling around for the familiar wetness of your undies.
“You’re soaking already, Y/N,” he groaned, and you saw his nostrils flaring. He gulped at the feeling, and his Adam's apple bobbed enticingly. It was the most beautiful sight ever.
His finger pushed the fabric aside, easily scooping up your essence. He looked straight into your eyes as he brought his digit to his lips and licked it, curling his pink tongue and making your insides clench.
Jin was blessed with long bony fingers, and they were a bit crooked too. A fact he took huge pride in. Because it allowed him to do things to your pussy that no one else could. He slid one finger inside you, drinking in how bothered you looked.
With a soft groan, you parted your legs wider to give him better access. His finger pumped in and out of you, drawing strangled moans from your shaking body. He slowly increased his pace, never taking his eyes off you.
“J-Jin..”
He slid another finger in, and this time his crooked bony fingers found your happy place and pushed against it, reducing you to a whimpering mess on his lap. He never stopped, his chest puffing with pride when he saw how you came undone on his fingers.
“Wanna cum?” he asked, and you nodded vigorously. His grin made an appearance again.
“You gotta ride me first, baby.”
Smiling impishly, you tore the jacket off his shoulders in one swoop. His shoulders were so wide, and you loved grabbing onto them when you rode him. The white dress shirt underneath had gold-plated buttons, winking at you. Seokjin certainly deserved to be dressed from head to toe in gold.
You could hear the boys knocking things around in the living room, and the little wildcat in you reared its head. You liked the thrill of riding Jin with his friends just outside the room. Jin might never guess it, but you wouldn’t even mind if one of the guys actually walked in on you bouncing on your boyfriend’s cock.
Snaking your hand down to his crotch, you unzipped his pants and fished his dick out. He was rock-hard. Jin always had loads of glossy pre-cum, and you slowly worked his juices all over his shaft, stroking him. He grabbed your wrist, his plush lip caught between his teeth.
“Sit on me.”
You gladly obliged, shifting your hips and hovering over him. He pushed your undies aside with his thumb, and you slid down his length, sheathing him completely. Once he was fully in, you rotated your hips, drawing sharp curses from his pillowy lips.
“Ah shit, Y/N. That’s it. Faster, go faster.”
You picked up your pace, holding on to his broad muscular shoulders and bouncing as fast as you could. Jin usually wanted to see your breasts when you rode him. That day, however, he made no effort to undress you. The red fabric was bunched up unceremoniously around your waist, but your breasts were still clothed.
“Oh gosh, Y/N, allow me….”
He grabbed your hips, pushing himself off the bed and thrusting up into you. You let him take over, squeezing his shoulders and letting him rail you as he pleased.
Jin loved the whimpers escaping your dirty little mouth, the sounds egging him on to ruin you completely. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling your ears like a crescendo.
“Like my cock stretching you, huh?” He panted between his thrusts. His stamina was out of the world.
“You’re my little cockpuppet, aren’t you?”
His words always had the effect of reducing you to putty. That man had such a filthy mouth, one he was only too happy to unleash on you.
“Oh goddamn, Jin!”
You knew he was close; the taut flesh of his abdomen was quivering with the stirrings of a powerful orgasm. Your fingers clawed into his broad shoulders just in time.
Jin sounded nothing like his ordinary self when he cummed. He had a special sex voice that only you had the privilege of hearing. He moaned out loud, growling like an animal in pain as he shot all his seed inside your walls.
You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, twitching as your pussy milked him for all his worth. His breaths came out in hot pants, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
“Feeling good, baby?”
He looked into your eyes, and you smiled happily at him.
“Never been better.”
The soft breadcheeks stretched into a smile. Damn, he was so beautiful when he smiled like that.
You hooked your finger under his chin.
His finger was tracing circles over the fishnet stockings, and you raised an eyebrow naughtily.
“Since when are you into fishnets?”
He chuckled slowly, chewing his lip.
“It wasn’t exactly for me... Remember when I said I had something to tell you?”
You huffed in impatience, gripping the hair at the base of his neck and peering at him curiously.
“Come on! Tell me. Now.”
He looked down at where both your hips joined. He slid his softening dick out of you, and you silently helped him tuck himself back into his pants.
The sound of the zipper closing shattered the silence. He bit his lip and peered into your eyes.
“Y/N,” there was a slight shake in his voice. “Have you ever…” His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips. “What do you think of…”
You blew out your cheeks. It was unusual for your ever-confident boyfriend to sound so doubtful.
“Just say it, Jinnie.”
He took a deep breath, and ran his fingers up your thigh, gathering his thoughts.
“Y/N baby, you sometimes moan in your sleep.”
You smiled at him playfully.
“What do I moan?”
He knotted his eyebrows and sighed softly.
“You moan the names of the other members.”
The smile froze on your face, your heart steadily dropping in your chest. It felt like someone had shoved a giant block of ice down your throat.
“I- I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t…”
Jin saw the panic on your face and shook his head hastily.
“Hear me out, Y/N.” He reached his palm to cup your cheek. “Wait, listen.”
He hadn’t meant to make you feel guilty in the slightest. He shushed you and blurted the words out:
“I meant to ask what you thought about sharing.”
You wrinkled your forehead in confusion.
“Sharing what?”
He wiggled his nose, carefully looking at your reaction as he said the words:
“Sharing you with the other members. Like- like a poly relationship.”
Your jaw dropped, and you regarded your boyfriend with a wary look. Was he really suggesting that? Or was it a snide question? You knew the Jin you loved would never be mean to you. He was too straightforward and blunt to beat around the bush.
“Are you… really asking me?”
His finger traveled up your face and traced your cheekbone.
“Of course I am. You can tell me no if I crossed a line.” He paused for a second.” I genuinely want to know if you’d like it.”
You bunched his shirt up in your fists, scared of what would happen next. Would he hate you if you said “Yes”? Would he feel inadequate? Would he feel like he’d been cheated on?
It was a while before you found your voice.
“Am I going to lose you?”
His face became serious.
“Why would you? Of course not! Baby, I’m the one suggesting it.”
He was suggesting it? The thought made your head spin. It was all too raw to process.
“Are you drunk, Jinnie?”
You knew he wasn’t. Your boyfriend had an extremely good tolerance for alcohol. He shook his head without taking his eyes off your face.
“Don’t worry, I am not. And no, I am not going to back out in the morning.”
He really was serious. You chewed on your lips, gazing at his open face.
“And- the guys, how will you talk to them about… this?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, his rare dimple peeking at you.
“I may have already talked about it with them.”
You drew back in horror.
“What?!”
He shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. He had talked about it with his guys, and they had been open to trying it if you really wanted it. Jin knew how your mind worked, and he was sure you’d want to try at least once.
“Sh, Y/N. It’s all up to you now. No one will judge you for it. I know the guys. They all adore you. Just tell me if you want to try this.”
Your hands flew to your hot face in a poor attempt at hiding yourself. Jin’s big palms caught your wrists.
“Don’t hate me,” you whined, your voice so low it was close to breaking.
———❖———
Jin held your hand tight as he guided you to the living room. The six other guys were boisterously arguing about something. A sudden hush blanketed the noise as soon as Jin ground to a halt in the middle of the room.
You refused to look up, staring at the rug like your whole body would ignite and go up in flames if you did.
“Let’s go to the guest bedroom,” Jin said, addressing the men in the room. He jerked his head at them and turned on his heel, pulling you with him.
The bedroom was the biggest in your apartment, and it housed two queen-sized beds. You had originally intended to rent it out to your friends before your boyfriend came along.
Jin drew the blinds and returned to your side, tapping his foot on the floor gently. One by one, the guys made their way into the room, forming a semicircle around Jin and you.
They were all still in the suits they had worn to the party. Granted, a few ties and bows were loosened and some suits were specked with pizza crust. But they looked just as fucking handsome as ever, disheveled or otherwise.
Everyone looked slightly nervous, and they waited for someone to break the ice. Namjoon, used to his role of the leader, took the lead naturally.
He cleared his throat, glancing at you.
“Y/N, I… um… understand this is all new, but…”
Jin stared at Namjoon, silently urging him to use his eloquent mouth to come up with something more confident.
Namjoon took a step forward, his palms open to in an attempt to instill trust.
“We all love you so much, and I assure you that there’s nothing to be worried about.”
The rest of the group nodded in silence, and you looked at Namjoon through lowered lashes. This was so surreal. Was it all a dream?
Jin squeezed your hand, and you squeezed it back. Gosh, this was so real.
You saw the polished tips of Namjoon’s shoes advance towards you.
“If you say no, we’ll leave this room and forget that this ever happened. We’d understand.”
God, no. You couldn’t say no. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t want them. But how was it all true? How did all seven of them like you back? Was it right to even think about it?
“No,” you saw the tips of Namjoon’s shoes stop abruptly on the floor.
“No," you repeated, "I can’t say no.”
The gleaming shoes hesitantly made their way towards you again.
He stood directly in front of you, and Jin let go of your hand. A sudden feeling of panic rose up your chest, but it disappeared when Jin’s hand reached to grip your shoulder lightly.
Namjoon reached his hand out, saying,
“Is it okay if I do…” He rested his palm against your hip, “…this?”
You gulped and nodded, staring into his chocolate eyes.
He gently squeezed your hip, watching you in rapt attention.
“And this?”
“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.
“You’re wearing fishnets,” Namjoon noted with barely contained eagerness, and you saw Jin cheekily nod his head at his band mate.
“Just how you like it, huh?” Jin teased, winking at Namjoon, who blushed in return.
Namjoon’s hand slipped around your waist, and he murmured in a soft voice, “Is it alright if we move closer to the bed?”
You nodded your head in a daze.
“Uh-huh.”
The rest of the guys parted, breaking the semicircle and making way for you. It really was happening. The thudding in your ears grew louder and louder.
Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.
“Come sit, honey.”
You turned and looked at your boyfriend, seeking reassurance before you let yourself go completely. Jin nodded his head and winked, a little smile playing on the edges of his lips. Drawing a shaky breath, you climbed into Namjoon’s lap, feeling incredibly self-conscious.
“We can stop anytime you want,” Namjoon said, gazing earnestly at your face. “Do you want to continue?”
You bit your lip and looked at the men clustered around you. This was it.
“Yes, I want to.”
A barely audible sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips. Had he been holding his breath too? Was he nervous too? Nothing about his persona gave away his nervousness. His fingers were steady, so was his voice. He had an aura of confidence in every move.
“Are you sure, baby? You are okay with this?”
“Yes... oh yes, please.”
The last word was drawn into a needy whine, and Taehyung chuckled from across the room. A few of them were sitting on the other bed, watching the events unfold. Jin was standing at the foot of the bed, his hawk eyes never leaving you. Yoongi was leaning against the wall, looking unbothered. But only he knew the way his stomach was doing backflips, the thought of having you leaving him shaking in his shoes.
Namjoon gently cupped your jaw, pulling you in and brushing his lips softly against yours. His other hand roamed over to your shoulder blade, a finger hooking under the spaghetti strap. Taking his sweet time, the man peeled the strap off your shoulder, his hand moving to free the other strap as well.
“Ready?”
His whisper was full of lust, and you nodded in urgency. With one fluid tug, he pulled the top of your dress down towards your waist, leaving your lace push-up bra for all the men to see. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere in the room, but you were far too gone to identify who it belonged to.
Your eyes flitted over to Jin’s, and you saw him looking straight at your chest, enthralled. He didn’t look the least bit concerned. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying it, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gulped at the sight.
There was a deafening silence in the room, it was almost unbearable. Namjoon’s hand roamed over to your thigh-high stockings, and his long index finger slipped under the elastic band, dragging sinful lines along your skin.
He sighed darkly, admiring the way your legs looked. He had only mentioned to Jin about his kink for fishnets in passing. He couldn’t believe Jin had remembered.
His other hand was on your back, his fingers hooked under the clasps of your bra.
Deftly, with just two fingers, he undid the clasps, ridding your skin of the offending fabric.
The cold air in the room coupled with the sudden nakedness gave you such a rush, so much that all the fine hair on your skin stood up in goosebumps. There were a few groans around you, and it became so hard to sit still on Namjoon’s lap.
“Make sure she’s feeling comfortable,” Yoongi murmured from his position against the wall, his palm resting ever so slightly on his bulge.
“Here,” Yoongi said, moving towards you and stooping to look into your eyes. “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?”
You nodded, too enthralled in his brilliant black eyes to answer.
He dropped his voice lower, sliding a finger along your jawline.
“Tell us what you want.”
Your nipples were so hard, painfully neglected by not one but seven men in the room.
“I-” You looked at Namjoon, and gripped your hip gently, running his tongue over his plump lips. “-just, can you all take your shirts off?” Your naked torso was in stark contrast to their suits, and you were hyper aware of it.
Jungkook’s little giggle reached your ears, and you sighed in relief as one by one, all the suits and dress shirts came off, revealing sculpted chests and hard, taut abs.
God, Jin was fucking ethereal when he was naked, you always had to remember to breathe when he undressed. But now, right in front of you, seven sons of Aphrodite were offering you their shirtless bodies, letting you feast your eyes on godly perfection.
Namjoon’s bare chest heaved perfectly in harmony with yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your pores.
“Please…” you whined, needy for attention. “Please touch me.”
Yoongi groaned, rubbing his face against your neck, and starting to press kisses down your shoulder blades.
Namjoon nodded at the rest of them, and slowly everyone moved towards you, crowding around you like children around an ice cream truck. One strong arm pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on Namjoon’s lap, providing better access to the others.
Jimin dove straight into your chest, attaching his mouth to your breast and suckling eagerly. He gobbled up as much of the flesh as he could into his little mouth, earning shaky moans that spilled out of your lips.
Namjoon’s finger pushed your underwear away, dipping into your core and curling a bit. He popped out his dimples, smirking hard at Jin.
“Guys, hyung has already marked his territory.”
Jin’s ears went red, and he stammered out while waving his hands,
“It’s nothing like that! It’s just impossible to resist her.” He paused, looking down and grinning at you before adding, “You’re all gonna discover that soon enough.”
You giggled, catching sight of his red face and puckered lips. Jimin was still attached to your chest, working his devilish tongue on your breast.
“Show some love to the other tit too,” Jin said, and everyone chuckled, the tension in the air evaporating completely.
Soon enough, Jungkook’s veiny hand was kneading your other breast, and everyone closed in on you, their eager hands running all over your body, sending you tumbling into bliss.
─── ·❆· ───
Present day
“Yoongs?”
He was hunched over some sheets of music, his nerdy glasses making him look wise and serene.
“Huh?”
He removed his glasses, running his hand through his shock of black hair, mussing it up. A genuine smile lit his face up when he looked at you.
“Yeah, baby?”
You knew he was busy, producing music for one of his collabs. But he had asked you to hang out with him in the studio. And that was when Jungkook had entered, his face hostile and sullen, passing by to drop some of Yoongi’s lyric sheets. He had practically glowered at you, slamming the door behind him unnecessarily loud.
“Um, do you think Kook is mad at me?”
He looked surprised.
“No, why would he be?”
You hadn’t the faintest idea why. But something was up. You knew that. You had tried multiple times to talk to Jungkook, but he had just shrugged and slipped out of your efforts to light up a conversation.
“I think he doesn’t like this.” It had been a thought that had started out as doubt, but Jungkook’s behavior made the doubt grow stronger and stronger until you were subconsciously convinced that it was the reason.
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.
“He doesn’t like what?”
“This.” You flung your arms out, tracing the air, frustrated. “Maybe he doesn’t really want to be in this relationship? I tried talking to him many times, but he just won’t speak to me.” You pursed your lips. “It has been weeks since he even smiled at me.”
“Y/N,” Yoongi drawled, reaching to pull you closer. “You know he loves you. We all do. He’s probably overworked and exhausted. Try talking to him after some time, you know?”
You nodded absently, thinking of how Jungkook had sprung up like a startled cat and stomped out of the room while you were watching a movie with all the guys. Just because you had placed a hand on his thigh.
There was something off about Jungkook. But he shut up like a clam, choosing to slip out of the way whenever you tried to talk to him.
“Y/N?”
You snapped back to focus on Yoongi. He was partially right. They were all working their asses off for the new album. You would talk to Jungkook later.
“Okay, babe,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Your hand reached for the phone.
11:21 pm.
Yoongi had made lunch reservations for both of you. You still had plenty of time.
“You get going on that sexy producer thing you do,” you said, cozying down on his sofa. “We still have some time on our hands.”
So back he went, his serious face poring over the sheets of music sprawled on his table. Yoongi probably didn’t realize, but he looked like a grumpy kitten when he was concentrating hard on something.
You smiled at his bent head, swiping on your phone to check for emails from work. There were none. Good. Maybe you could scroll through Pinterest for new design ideas. You worked for an ad agency as a graphic designer. You had to always be on the lookout for new stuff.
The endless stream of pictures was flooding your feed, and your finger was trying to catch up. Ding. The notification chime wasn’t usually enough to distract you. But this time, it held the title you just couldn’t resist. It was a YouTube notification from your favorite graphic artist.
You were halfway through the video when the suggested section caught your eye. An involuntary chuckle shook your chest when you read the title.
“Boy band BBS talk about DATING and SECRET GIRLFRIENDS?!!”
It was classic clickbait. Something everyone seemed to be doing for views. You knew it was just a clip from the Red Carpet of the MTV Music Awards. You still remembered the hickey you had given Hoseok that had forced him to wear a turtleneck under his suit. Delicious times.
You had watched that video already, but something just pulled you towards the video. You would never tire of re-watching your seven gorgeous boyfriends slaying the red carpet.
Sure, you were right. It was just a clip that everyone who had followed the awards had already seen. The familiar questions about collabs, celebrity crushes, favorite food, every question your boyfriends were already tired of but answered anyway, made up the first 4 minutes. Click bait much?
“Haha we have all the love in the world, we have our fans,” Namjoon was saying, his sweet little dimple flashing at the camera.
“But,” the redhead insisted, her dazzling smile widening. “You boys have any secret dating lives we aren’t privy to?”
The answer was already in the question. No one was supposed to be fucking privy to that information. You pursed your lips, waiting for Namjoon’s sassy reply to tumble out of his lips.
“We wanna focus on our careers, we don’t have time to date,” he said, a small lilt of mockery creeping into his voice.
Damn, you had teased him mercilessly that night, bratty about him saying ‘not having time.’ You remembered how he had begged to lay a finger on you, and a satisfying warmth spread over your belly.
The video was ending, and you grinned at Namjoon’s closeup fondly. But just before the replay button came on, you caught onto something odd.
You had been scrolling down, and a few comments had popped up in your line of vision. People were screaming about how dazzling their bias looked, or how proud they were of the boys. But there were a few ones written by hawk-eyed fans.
“not at how bored JK got of the question at 6:48 lmao he’s so pissed”
“damn, was it just me, or did JK actually ROLL his eyes sfakjfkjfk hahaha”
What?
You hit the replay button, dragging the seeker to the last few seconds of the video.
There, glowering with mad eyes, stood Jungkook. He was well behind Namjoon, a bit out of focus around the 6:45 mark. He had put on a charming smile throughout the video. Until the host popped the dating question, at least.
For anyone else, it would seem like Jungkook was bored with the question. But you knew his quirks. He had been casually gazing at the camera, letting Namjoon answer the host’s questions. The word “dating” left the host’s lips, and Hoseok lightly touched his turtleneck at the exact time when Jungkook’s expression flattened out to a cold hard stare. He rolled his eyes ever so subtly, his face turned sideways. He had been annoyed.
Annoyed at Hoseok that he was reminded of who he was dating. Annoyed that the question had reminded him of the hickey his turtleneck was covering. More like disgusted. Disgusted at what exactly? At the host for asking that question? Or- was it at what dating meant to the eight of you?
“Y/N, babes?”
Yoongi’s voice finally reached your ears, and you looked up in a daze.
“Huh?”
He scratched his head, his other arm supporting the jacket casually flung over his back.
“I said we can go. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”
Oh, the lunch. You had totally snapped out of focus.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” you said, jumping up and slipping into your shoes. Yoongi watched you closely, a bit concerned.
“Are you alright, Y/N? You look... odd.”
You debated if you should tell him what was bothering you. But you didn’t want to ruin the date with your speculations. You’ll talk about it to your boyfriends after you had enough time to sort your feelings.
“No, it’s probably nothing, Yoongs. I’ll tell you later. Let’s go, I’m famished.”
You would have to tackle Jungkook and his surly temper later.
─── ·❆· ───
“How’s the track shaping up, hyung?” Taehyung asked, pouring more wine into Yoongi’s glass. You were cozily settled between Yoongi’s thighs, the warmth of his chest on your back.
“Hm, I worked out most of the chords,” Yoongi returned, picking up his refill and taking a sip. “But I still have some more work to do, especially with the bridge.”
You hummed contentedly, listening to your boyfriends discuss music, sprawled on the floor around the coffee table. It was lovely, watching their serious faces talk about what they loved and lived for. The door opened, and Jungkook walked in, clutching his sports bag.
He mumbled an “I’m home,” directed at his friends, before turning to kick off his shoes.
“…and before I knew it, the time had flown like… phew!” Yoongi was saying, while you eyed Jungkook’s bag. He had been going to the boxing ring too often these days. What was up with him? His hair was damp, and his face was flushed.
“…and then I bundled Y/N up into the car and we rushed off,” Yoongi said, and there it was again. You had been watching Jungkook’s face, and at the mention of your name, the annoyance - no, the disgust flashed across his features. He scoffed to himself, unaware of your attention. It wrenched your heart to see that, and you looked away.
Jungkook picked his bag up again and stormed towards his room. You watched his retreating back, only half-listening to Yoongi’s praise for the lobster frittata.
“You guys keep talking, I’ll be back,” you said, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.
“Uh-huh,” Taehyung purred, craning his neck and offering his cheek for you to kiss too.
“Clown,” you giggled, dropping him a kiss, and giving him a playful shove. “I’ll be gone just a sec, don’t miss me,” you said, winking and jumping up to your feet.
You had to talk to Jungkook and ask him just what his problem was. You just couldn’t bear his sourpuss charade any longer.
———❖———
Loud music hit you in the face as soon as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room. The guys never bothered to close their doors, but Jungkook had lately started closing his. Another red flag waving right under your nose.
He was on the floor, doing pushups and grunting out at the exertion. His sinewy arms were trembling, and he had changed to shorts that revealed his muscular thighs shining with sweat.
The guy certainly was on the fast track lane to exhaustion.
“Jungkook,” you called out, straining your voice to be heard over the blasting music. “Hey! Can you hear me?”
He went on exercising without any acknowledgment, so you stormed to the stereo and turned it off with a click.
“What the fuck?” he growled, snapping his head up before he caught sight of you.
“Well, you couldn’t hear me,” you said, crossing your arms and standing your ground.
“Of course I could,” he sneered, getting up to his feet and wiping the sweat off his chin. “I chose to ignore it.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief.
“Are you serious right now? You ignored it? What is that supposed to mean?”
He picked up his towel and started dabbing at his forehead, not even sparing you a glance.
“What do you want, Y/N? Why are you here instead of sucking Yoongi hyung’s dick?”
Your jaw dropped.
It was completely out of character for Jungkook to be so prickly. He was always the sweetest and goofiest man out of the lot. What had gone wrong?
“Jeon Jungkook, you dare not speak to me that way,” you said, bristling. “What is up with you? You are so sullen whenever I try to spark a convo.”
He scoffed and threw his towel down. His face was a strange mix of anger and disgust. You couldn’t understand what had ticked him off so bad.
“What is up with me? You tell me, because you’re so smart, Miss. Perfect.”
He crossed his arms and puffed his chest, using his height to his advantage to stare you down.
You huffed in impatience, stressed at his refusal to be drawn out. You had to simmer down and try to make him say what was bothering him.
“Jungkook, tell me why you’ve been so pissy lately. What did I do, to make you so upset? Just tell me.”
He glowered at you, the tips of his ears going red as he clenched his teeth.
“Good question. What didn’t you do?” His eyes swept over your clothes, taking in the wine splotch on your shorts. He averted his eyes, staring at his treadmill instead. “Whose cum are you leaking this time?”
The question was almost inaudible, but the spite in it had already reached you and poisoned the air in the room.
You stood rooted to the spot, shock numbing your senses.
“Did you just-” you struggled to keep the quiver in your voice under control. “-say that…”
You had never been in a real fight with any of your boyfriends, and this was a cold punch to your gut. You had only had the occasional bickering and loads of makeup sex after every disagreement. But this was new. This was raw, palpable and spiteful, and left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You waited for him to rush and say something, to explain and say he didn’t mean it that way. Just anything really.
But he didn’t clarify or even attempt to take his words back. He simply stood there, glaring into your eyes in contempt.
The YouTube video flashed before your eyes. The disgust in his face when he even thought of dating. When he thought of you. The thought crept steadily into your chest, twisting and crushing your heart. He resented you. He resented the relationship.
When you opened your mouth to break the heavy silence, your voice came out in a whimper.
“If you didn’t want to be in this relationship, you could have said so. No one forced you into it.”
He didn’t reply, choosing to glare at his treadmill in stony anger. You went on.
“If I’m keeping you from finding someone else or dating other better people, you could just say so. Instead of insulting me like this.”
He snapped his head to face you, fury painting his face red.
“What the fuck are you going on about?”
“Please, Jungkook,” you said, scoffing and masking the low sob that threatened to escape your chest. “You resent being with me. You can’t even stand me. You don’t have to stay and feel trapped in this relationship. You think- you think-“ You bit your lip, “-you think I’m a slut. You could have just declined to be part of this. None of us forced you.”
His eyes went wide in shock.
“Why would you say that? That’s not fucking true.”
“Are you screwing with me, Jungkook? You don’t even look at me anymore. You cringe when I touch you. Do you think I’m blind to not see how much you hate being in the same room as you? You haven’t kissed me or spoke a kind word to me in weeks.”
He sighed hard, running his hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft.
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
You weren’t going to cry; you weren’t one to break down so easily. But there was a strange sadness in your tone when you asked,
“Do you love someone else? Are you feeling- trapped with me…with the rest of us?”
He grimaced, the steely look coming back to his features. He shook his head in despair, straining visibly to keep his calm.
“No. What do you… No, what the hell? Of course not. You’ve got it all fucking wrong.”
“Enlighten me then. Spit it out, Jungkook. I’m not a mind reader.”
Taehyung’s voice drifted from the living room, in a muffled sing-song tone:
“Y/N! Starting to miss you here!”
Jungkook’s lip curled, and he stomped to slam the door shut with a bang. He turned to face you, hot rage clouding his eyes.
“This. It’s this. I can’t bear this anymore.”
You had no idea what he was talking about. But you hated loud noises, and the loud slam had pissed you off.
“What exactly is this this you’re talking about?”
He scrunched up his face impatiently.
“God, Y/N. You just- you’re so oblivious all the time.”
This was getting nowhere. He was talking in circles, and you weren’t going to humor him anymore. The slam of the door had already set a headache off, and your patience was wearing thin.
“Just say it already. I’m not interested in guessing games.”
He buried his face in his hands, clawing at his skin. When he looked at you again, you could see the vein in his forehead stand out.
“I can’t do this anymore. This is so stupid. It’s such a dumb idea. I don’t like this. ”
There it was. Out in the open.
“So, you want out? Are you breaking up with me? I already told you that no one is forcing you to stay. And you told-”
“Shut up, Y/N. Just shut up.”
You stopped, jaw open at his interjection. He shook his head, and you could see his nostrils flaring.
“Y/N, I love you. Okay? Don’t be silly.”
“What? Why the fuck do you keep contradicting yourself, Jeon Jungkook?”
He sighed and pulled your wrist, dragging you to the wall. He trapped you between his arms, pressing his warm body against yours, dominance lighting up his feral eyes.
“I want you to be mine. Just mine.” He sighed again, and his hot breath fell on your lips. “I can’t share you.”
“But- “
Your words were cut off abruptly, as his lips crashed into yours, silencing any words that were bubbling up in your mouth.
His kiss was hot and desperate, as if he was scared to stop. Scared that you would say something that would break his heart if he released your lips. The corner of his lip was trembling, and he bit into your lips to hold on just a little longer.
He had strong muscly arms, and they were crushing you relentlessly.
“Stop…” you breathed, pushing against his chest. “Jungkook, stop”
“No,” he moaned, whimpering with closed eyes. “Y/N, please…”
You pushed harder and violently struggled in his grasp until he had no choice but to let you go. Shoving him away, you spat at him with wet lips.
“Jungkook, this is a polyamorous relationship. You know it doesn’t work that way.”
He threw his hands up to hold the sides of his head, a painful look on his face.
“I can’t… it’s not fair. I can’t even stand the thought of the other guys touching you. Kissing you.” He grimaced. “Or fucking you.”
It was your turn to grimace.
“It’s not fair? I’m not just yours. You knew this when you got into this relationship. Jin is the one- “
He snarled and raised his voice cutting you off.
“He’s responsible for this fucking mess. He’s so fucking selfish, and …and…”
“Stop right there, Jeon Jungkook,” you said, your voice raising to a shout. “Don’t you dare call him selfish. He’s nothing but supportive of sharing. Don’t you dare.”
Jungkook kicked the treadmill’s frame, losing his temper.
“He stole you from me. He fucking betrayed me!”
“Don’t be delusional, Jin was my boyfriend longer than any of you.”
“HE STOLE YOU FROM ME!!!”
You flinched at his loud voice, pressing a finger to your throbbing temple. Clutching the sides of your head, you walked away from him.
“I’m outta here. I can’t listen to your deluded screams anymore.”
You stomped to the door, turning the knob to get out. But Jungkook was quicker, and he reached the door to block you from opening it.
“Let me go,” you said, speaking through clenched teeth.
“No,” he said, leaning his back against the door and glowering at you. “Fucking listen to me, Y/N.”
You had no other choice, so you folded your hands and glared at him in stony silence.
“I was the one who fell for you first. I told Jin hyung that I was in love. He told me I was too young, and that it would damage the band’s reputation, and that I would lose all our female fans if the word got out. He convinced me that it wasn’t wise to date.”
You didn’t reply, choosing to scowl instead. He angrily went on.
“And then imagine my surprise when he went ahead and asked you out. And you betrayed me by falling for him.”
Your scoff interrupted his flow.
“I’m sorry, I betrayed you? Have you gone crazy?”
“It would have been me if Jin hyung hadn’t stolen you from me. I would have been your boyfriend, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let any other guy lay a finger on you.”
The disgust in his tone annoyed you to no end.
“Has it ever occurred to you that I chose Jin? Do you think you could just turn back time and replace him? Are my feelings that insignificant to you?”
He shook his head urgently.
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
“And did you tell Jin that you were in love with me? Did you explicitly say my name?”
“No, I- I told him I was in falling for someone. I didn’t say your name,” he mumbled. “But he ought to have known, you were the only girl in my life at that time.”
You blew your cheeks in exasperation.
“Did you think he could fucking read your mind? You’re being so damn stupid, Jungkook.”
He whined again.
“He ought to have known. He knew I liked you very much.”
“He was just looking out for you! He didn’t ‘betray’ you. Why the hell did you agree to be in this relationship then, if you were so against sharing?”
Pain flashed across his face once more.
“Because there was no other way to be in your life. I gritted my teeth and bore it so long just to have a part of your heart. But…”
You tapped your foot, waiting for him to continue.
“…But I can’t share anymore. It kills me to see them look at you that way. It just…kills me.”
There was no response ready on your tongue for that. You had never expected such a situation to arise. You had talked and talked for days with the guys before jumping into the relationship. You had been confident about the success of the talks, but you weren’t sure anymore.
You sighed heavily. This wasn’t going to work. Jungkook and you, it was strained beyond repair.
“I love you, Jungkook. But I can’t and won’t choose you over the others. It doesn’t work that way.”
Something inside him snapped, and he snarled at you, bunching up your nightshirt in his fist.
“What if you got pregnant? Whose child will it be? Who are you going to marry? All seven of us? How will you explain it to the world?”
You struggled in his grasp, clawing at his hand to shake it off.
“It will be Jin I marry. And if I got pregnant, there will be eight people to love the child.” You closed your eyes, clenching your fists. “There’s nothing that can change that.”
The repulsion on his face was clear as day.
“You’re a fucking slut, Y/N.”
─── ·❆· ───
“Hey,” Jin called out, smiling at you from his position on the couch. Yoongi and Taehyung were passed out on the floor, the empty wine bottles sprawled around their bodies.
“Hey,” you said, flashing him a watery smile. “When did you come?”
“Just now,” he said, patting his thigh and signaling you to sit on it.
You shook your head, biting your lip.
“I need to-” you winced, gingerly pressing on your knuckles. “-can you get me some ice?”
His gaze fell on your swollen knuckles, and he jumped up hastily.
“Y/N baby, what happened?”
He rushed to get the ice, barreling to a stop in front of the fridge. There, with his head poking into the freezer door, stood a figure in gym shorts.
Jin knocked at the curly mop of hair, complaining loudly.
“Yah Jungkook-ah, get your head out. I need to get some ice.”
Jin was taken aback when Jungkook whirled around, sporting a bright crimson nose, a tiny trickle of blood running down one nostril.
“The fuck-“ Jin started to say, but Jungkook pushed him away, wiping his nose and storming back towards his room.
When Jin came back to you with a bowl of ice cubes, his quick mind had already sensed a problem.
“Y/N, what happened? Did you- punch him?”
He raised his eyebrow, scrutinizing your face.
“Yes.”
He hadn’t been ready for that.
“But why? You’ve got to tell me. We shouldn’t be hitting each other like this.”
You let Jin hold your fingers and ice them, holding your silence and thinking how best to explain it to him.
“I’ll tell you, but not now.”
He clucked his tongue in dissent.
“No, now.”
“Jin, just leave me be. Not here.”
Your boyfriend pursed his lips, and the disapproval was evident on the curl of his mouth. He pulled you up and guided you to your shared bedroom. It was farther down the suite of rooms, out of earshot from Jungkook’s.
“Out with it,” he said, closing the door and pulling you down to sit on the bed. “Now.”
You never kept secrets from any of your boyfriends. And this was a very big issue that you had no intention of hiding from Jin.
“Jungkook... he called me a slut.”
“What?”
He was on his feet, anger rising in his chest. He knew it wasn’t just dirty bedroom talk, judging from your swollen knuckles.
“Y/N, why did he say that? Tell me everything from the start.”
Ten minutes later, you had barely finished speaking when Jin stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
─── ·❆· ───
Namjoon and Jimin had been out all evening, working on the lyrics for Jimin’s new solo. They were surprised when they got back to a living room full of people, all looking stern and pissed.
“What’s up?” Namjoon asked, hanging his coat on the hook. “Did someone break something?” He internally prayed that no one had discovered the burnt pan stowed under the sink.
No one responded.
“What is it?” Jimin whispered to Taehyung, sliding into a spot on the couch.
“It’s Y/N…” Taehyung started to whisper back, and Jimin exclaimed loudly,
“Oh gosh is she pregnant?”
“Shut your damn mouth,” Taehyung hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.
Namjoon’s sharp eyes scanned the scene. There were only seven people in the room. Serious meetings were supposed to have all eight in attendance.
“So, what is this about?” he asked, settling down beside Jin. “And where’s Jungkook?”
Jin remained silent, his face red in a stormy temper. Namjoon looked past Jin at you, addressing you instead.
“Babe, what’s going on?”
You opened your mouth to respond when Jin broke the heavy silence with a piercing shout:
“JEON JUNGKOOK!”
A minute later, a door opened and Jungkook slunk down the corridor, head bent. A hoodie was keeping his head covered, and he sat down on the couch opposite yours. He looked up obstinately, throwing his hood down, earning shocked gasps.
His nose was bleeding, and the blood had dried up in a red streak. His eye socket was a dark purple, and his cheekbone was swollen, effectively sealing his right eye shut.
Everyone was stunned, and indignant voices started talking all at once.
“Who did that?”
“How did this happen?”
“Jungkook, who did this to you?”
Jin snapped at no one in particular, barking out an annoyed “Everyone just shut up.”
He had a sonorous voice, one that commanded respect, especially when he raised it to a shout. The room quietened down, but a low murmur arose again when his shock of hair bounced, revealing a bleeding gash on his forehead.
“I called all of you here to say that our beloved Jungkook wants out of this relationship.”
He raised his palm to silence the babble of voices that broke out again, continuing with:
“He insulted our girlfriend and she broke his nose.”
Jungkook bowed head, choosing to scowl at the carpet.
“And the black eye?” Yoongi’s mild voice asked.
Jin dug his nails into his palms.
“I did that.”
Namjoon shook his head, tsking in disapproval.
“We need to hear both sides of the story, Jin hyung.”
When no one said anything, Namjoon looked at his youngest friend’s bent head.
“Well, Kook? Got anything to say?”
Silence.
Jin stared daggers at the man in the hoodie, his face a hot shade of crimson. His fingers gripped yours, squeezing them protectively.
“Well then,” Taehyung said, breaking the long awkward silence. “If you’ve got nothing to say…”
You couldn’t hold bear the tension in the room anymore.
“He doesn’t wanna share He wants out!” you exclaimed loudly. “He wants me all to himself! And…” you bit out, glaring at Jungkook, “…apparently, I’m a whore for being in this relationship.”
“What?!”
Hoseok was up on his feet, his fists clenched. Yoongi reached his hand out to grasp his hand urgently.
“Sit down, Hobi-yah.”
The murmur of indignant voices was rising to a fever pitch when Jungkook suddenly stood up. Head still downcast, he muttered:
“Save your breaths. I’m moving out.”
No one stopped him, and his dazed surprise was hidden under his hoodie. He dragged himself out of the room, the stares of his brothers burning into his skin.
“The fuck just happened?” Jimin asked, inspecting your swollen knuckles. “Why is this happening?”
You chewed on your lip, wondering the same thing. What had happened to your close-knit boyfriends? Why was Jungkook suddenly discontented with the bond you all shared? Would your boyfriends slowly fall apart and float away like Jungkook?
You looked around the room, watching the intent faces of your boyfriends as they listened to Jin’s account of the day’s events. Would you lose them all one by one?
─── ·❆· ───
It was really awkward to go to your boyfriends’ studios when they practiced. Awkward because Jungkook was there too, dancing and sweating it out with the rest of them. He removed himself from the room whenever you showed up, and the shift in the mood was palpable.
The others confided in you that they weren’t on speaking terms with Jungkook either, and that the practice sessions were becoming too uncomfortable to be around each other. You knew well enough that it would take a toll on the group’s performance as a whole. After all, communication was paramount to ensure they were perfectly in sync for their dance routines.
You wished to attempt one last time to see if you could talk sense into Jungkook. So, you found yourself standing outside Jungkook’s studio one evening, long after the others had packed up and left. You had half a mind to turn around and leave. But a small voice inside your head kept telling you to give it one last try. Your boyfriends were already suffering enough. You owed them one last-ditch effort to try and mend things.
You raised your hand to press the buzzer, still unsure. Was this going to be a mistake?
The door opened even before the buzzer stopped buzzing. Jungkook stood in the doorway, with his grey sweatpants on, his hair swept back with a headband. His eyes widened in surprise, and you saw his muscles flex when he tightened his grip on the doorknob.
You were at a loss for words. It was strange because you were never out of words.
“I-uh…I thought…”
His veiny arm found purchase on your blouse, and his lips came crashing down on your mouth. His mouth worked urgently, claiming dominance before you could oppose. He pulled you inside and gripped both your hands behind your back, slamming the door closed.
“Jung…” you panted out, but he pressed his mouth harder, drowning your words. He nudged you towards the wall with his body, pinning you in place. His mouth never ceased attacking you, while he worked to trap your wrists into one hand.
His other hand roamed all over your skin, clawing and grabbing your flesh in hunger. Jungkook couldn’t believe you had shown up on his doorstep after so many weeks. It felt like a fever dream, and he held on to every piece of skin he could hold, desperately anxious not to let you slip away.
“I knew you’d come back,” he moaned between breaths, “…to me.”
You struggled in his grasp, trying hard to shake his hand off your wrists.
“No,” you breathed, turning your head slightly to stop the barrage of soul-sucking kisses. “I didn’t come back to you…”
He froze momentarily. Just a moment later, his grip hardened around your wrists. The soft emotion on his features evaporated into thin air.
Without a word, he pushed you tighter against the wall, pinning you under his shoulder blades.
“So, you’re telling me…” he hooked a finger into the waistband of your jeans, “…that you didn’t want me? You never thought about…” he pulled the zipper down, “this?” His hand tugged the jeans down urgently and slithered into the crook between your thighs.
“Stop it,” you said shakily, feeling your arms starting to fall asleep.
But he paid no heed. He pulled your leg and hoisted your hips up against the wall. You felt insecure with both your legs wrapped around his body, with nothing to support you except the wall behind your back.
“You’re telling me…” he repeated, lifting your hips and slowly dropping to his knees while adjusting your legs so they were on both sides of his neck, “…that you didn’t miss me at all?”
By that time, you were hovering mid-air with your neck against the wall and the rest of your body awkwardly supported on his shoulders.
Your hands were free of his grasp, but they were still pretty useless because they were trapped under the shoulder joints that were straining to keep you from falling.
He grinned from between your legs, licking his lips maliciously. His finger pushed the crotch of your underwear aside. He bent lightly and blew against your bare core.
You couldn’t help it, your core clenched at the rush of hot air and it drew another smirk on his face.
“See? You want me,” he crooned, laying the pad of his finger against your clit. You jerked slightly, and he shushed you softly.
“Don’t squirm, love. You’ll fall and break your neck,” he added with a wicked smile. “We don’t want that, do we?”
“Stop it, Jungkook,” you started, but he dove into your clit at the exact moment.
`Though his demeanor was relaxed and careless, on the inside he was anything but. He pressed his tongue flat against your bud, lapping all your juices with feral thirst. He saw your thigh muscles tremble at his ministrations, and he smiled into your pussy. Gosh, he had missed you so damn much.
His tongue dipped and swirled around inside you, and it took all your discipline to stay in place without squirming and snapping your neck. You hadn’t forgotten what a master Jungkook was with his tongue.
He started sucking and sloppily slurping up everything you had to offer, so hard that you were sure you weren’t going to last. You were definitely going to break your neck.
“Stop, just…” you moaned, feeling a cramp beginning in your neck. “I can’t… let me down. Just let me down, please.”
He raised his head from your crotch.
“Why should I trust that you won’t run?”
You could no longer feel your arms.
“Don’t you trust that I love you?” you replied, struggling to stay in position. “Do you think I am fine with losing you? Don’t you understand that I love you just as much as I love the others?”
He cocked his eyebrow at the last sentence, the slight sting of the words sinking in. With a reluctant grunt, he put his hands under your hips, slowly peeling you from the wall and setting you down.
You weren’t sure if you were paranoid, but it seemed that he knew your arms were still numb. He took his sweet time tugging your pants further down your thighs, but all of a sudden, he flipped you over and caught hold of your wrists again.
Damn, right when the little pinpricks on your arms had begun and your arms were regaining strength.
He pushed and held you down so your chin was against the floor, while his knee dug into the back of your thighs. He felt your hands struggle, and he grinned to himself.
“Y/N baby, you’re so weak. Don’t fight me, love.”
You cursed and writhed under his body, but a steady hand of iron clawed at your hips and didn’t let go.
“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said, the slight sound of clothes scuffling behind you filling your ears. “You want me just as much as I want you.”
More sounds of something wet.
Page Break
Jungkook gave his shaft a few furious pumps, coating his thick glossy pre-cum all over his length. Damn, he was oozing so much pre-cum. He licked his lips and worked his dick, thinking of all the times in the past week that he had fantasized about your tight little pussy stretched around his cock.
His eyes scanned the pretty little birthmark on your left ass cheek. He smiled fondly, remembering how insecure you had been of it when you first started dating him. And the others. His smile vanished as quickly as it had come.
Jungkook had a lot of girth, and he usually prepped you well before entering. But not today. Not when you were writhing beneath him, trying to escape. With one quick push, he plowed into you, burying himself to the hilt.
A surprised whimper escaped your lips. He gave you no time to adjust, slamming into you repeatedly. The force of his thrusts shook your body, earning gasps that you fought hard to bite down. He kept up the unrelenting pace, pounding harder and harder with each thrust.
“What,” he panted between breaths, “won’t you moan for me?”
“Get off me, Jeon Jungkook,” you ground out through gritted teeth. He only chuckled in response.
His panting grew harder, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he was close. What would he do after that? He wasn’t going to let you go easily.
He pulled out and flipped you over, his hand returning to hold your hips down. Aligning his cock against your entrance, he pushed in again.
“Look at me,” he said, voice thick and needy. “Look at me when I cum in you.”
You stared back in defiance. Even though you loved Jungkook just as much as the others, none of them ever violated you like this. They hadn’t ever laid a finger on you against your will.
“You don’t love me,” you said calmly.
He raised an eyebrow, still slamming his hips into you.
“Your mind games won’t work on me, Y/N,” he replied, heavily panting. “You’re not going anywhere.” He licked the sweat on the corners of his mouth. “I’ll never let you leave me.”
With each thrust, your love for him withered and crumbled even more. A deep sense of regret washed over you for ever loving him. He didn’t understand love. He didn’t respect you. You had to get out of his grasp as quickly as you could. Would he take you somewhere and hold you hostage? Would he lock you up in a room and never let you see the light of day?
His thighs began shaking, and his thrusts became sloppy.
“Look here,” he grunted, teetering dangerously close to his release. “Fucking take my cum.”
He closed his eyes, his dick pulsing and throbbing inside you with the force of his orgasm. His grip on your body momentarily slipped, and you seized the chance.
Gathering all your strength, you punched him square in the balls, causing him to hiss in pain and topple over you. Even before he could react, you hit him in the ribs and pushed his body off, hauling your lower body out from under him.
His hand desperately snatched at your legs, but you kicked him and slithered away. He screamed out and clutched at your ankle, not letting go.
“Get off!” You screamed, reaching for the jeans bunched around your thighs.
The anger was bubbling in his face.
“No!” he shouted, trying to pull you by the ankle.
You swung your free leg at him, sending a hook kick that caught him under the chin with a sickening thud.
Without looking back, you scrambled up and unlocked the door, pulling your jeans up and running as fast as you could.
─── ·❆· ───
“Hot chocolate?”
You took the cup from Taehyung’s hand and nestled closer to Jin. Your boyfriend had bundled you up in blankets and seated you on his lap. Hoseok was sitting next to Jin, massaging, and rubbing your feet.
Namjoon and Jimin were sitting cross-legged on the rug, their mugs of hot chocolate forgotten. Yoongi was looking at the sheets of rain outside the window.
Everyone was eerily silent. To be fair, all of you had been shattered when Jungkook left. Over the weeks, a faint sense of normalcy had returned to the household. Until Jungkook cruelly wiped everything away again.
Jin had gone all kinds of crazy when you had run into his arms, your hair disheveled and tears streaming down your face. He had been unable to get a word out of you. He had examined the bite marks and welts with murderous rage, his blood boiling at the sight.
He had maintained his silence when you stayed in the shower for hours on end, curled into a ball on the bathroom floor. He had ground his teeth, bursting at the seams trying to hold his temper. He had soaped your battered body, his heart breaking at the way you tried to stifle your broken sobs.
When you had finally acquiesced to go out of the bathroom, he had carried you outside and dressed you gently. He had then bundled you up in the softest blankets as if they could protect and comfort you.
He had bent to kiss your cheek when you uttered it. Just one word.
“Jungkook.”
You had seen his jaw flexing dangerously. Bunching his shirt in your fingers, you had pulled him closer. Slowly the rest of your boyfriends had returned home. They had all seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere. Somehow, they had realized that something was wrong.
You hadn’t said a word when Jin displayed the welts on your wrists for them to see. He had told them about the scratches and nail marks all over your thighs, and you listened numbly. It had felt like he was talking about someone else.
The sound of someone’s phone brought you back to the present. The notification sound chimed again, and again. Suddenly, all the phones in the room started chiming incessantly, cutting through the heavy silence in the room.
“What the hell,” Yoongi said, reaching for his phone. “The fuck’s happening?”
All of you stared at Yoongi, the notification sounds still going off in the background.
“What the fuck!” he shouted, furiously swiping at his phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Taehyung went to his side, alarmed at the panic in his voice.
“Hyung?”
“FanLive,” Yoongi blurted out, holding his phone up towards all of you. “Jungkook is on FanLive.”
“What?” Namjoon asked mildly, hopping to his feet and peering into Yoongi’s screen. “What about it?”
Yoongi hit the speaker button, setting the volume to Maximum.
“… I was so nervous,” Jungkook’s syrupy voice rang out from the phone, and your ears perked up. “…but I am so happy that I shared this with you. I love all our fans. I really hope you will make her feel safe and welcome.”
Jin slid his buzzing phone out of his pocket, and a news notification flashed on his screen. You looked at it dumbfounded, not trusting your eyes.
‘BBS BAND MEMBER REVEALS GIRLFRIEND!’
Jungkook’s voice was still pouring out of Yoongi’s phone.
“I love this person so much; she makes me really happy.” You could almost hear his bunny smile. You felt sick.
“… We talked a lot and decided it’s time to share our secret. So, yeah… my girlfriend’s name is…” he paused, and all your muscles tensed, “…Y/N.”
You blinked. The constant ringing of phones in the room grated on your nerves. Jin’s knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the sides of his phone. He was seething, the anger growing inside him like an inferno.
“That. piece. of. Shit,” Jin spat out, his body trembling in rage. “I’m going to…”
Jungkook’s rabbity voice piped up again, he was probably showing something to the camera.
“…this is a picture of us…”
You pounced on Yoongi, grabbing the phone.
“Give me that, Yoongi.”
Jungkook was grinning in a successful attempt at cuteness. A turtleneck sweater was hiding the bruises on his neck that your kick had caused. You knew he had probably used heavy concealers to mask the injuries from the struggle.
He was holding his phone up to the camera, and you saw the picture he was showing. It was a selfie Jungkook had taken with you several months ago. You were both smiling at the camera, leaning against each other cozily.
“… this is my favorite picture, Y/N looks so cute…”
Jungkook droned on about how much he adored you and how lucky he was. He even had the nerve to say how happy his band members were for him. You didn’t bat an eyelid, drinking in all the blatant lies he spewed on live camera.
“…that’s the reason for this surprise live stream. Thank you for your love, please accept Y/N too…”
He kept repeating your name as much as he could, as if he wanted to punch your name into every viewer’s brain. That you were his. And his alone.
The live stream ended, and Yoongi flung his phone down in disgust.
“Sick, pathetic leech…” he began, slamming the coffee table. “I am going to strangle him.”
He rose to his feet, but Jimin gripped his wrist tightly.
“No, hyung. Not now.”
“He violated Y/N!” Yoongi screamed out, and Jin flinched. “And now this? I want him dead!”
“Yoongi-yah,” Jin’s firm voice stopped Yoongi’s angry tirade. “Yoongi-yah, we’re all furious. I get it. But we should take a minute to think what to do.”
The younger man glanced at you, and you nodded.
“He has branded me to the world as his girlfriend. You will tarnish yourself if you go beat him up. And that’s not intelligent.”
Namjoon hummed in agreement.
“I want to wrap my fingers around his throat and feel his life leave his body though,” Namjoon said, an unusual murderous look glinting in his eyes.
The buzzing of your phone briefly broke your attention, and you glanced at the screen. It was Hae Jung, one of the BBS stylists. The texts were already flooding your screen. The latest ones popped up in the notification shade.
Hae Jung: Get out of the apartment quick!
Hae Jung: You can’t be seen with the rest of them!
Hae Jung: Y/N!! Answer my calls just once!
“Uh, Jinnie?” You tugged at his sleeve, pulling him gently.
He was simmering in a cold rage, and his gaze was sharp like knives when he snapped out a “What?”
You had a temper of your own and you found it kindling. Taking a deep breath, you displayed your phone for him to see.
“Hae Jung says I should leave the apartment at once. I can’t be seen with any of you. She’s got a point.”
Jin’s wide shoulders broadened as he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Taehyung’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and he said,
“She’s right, hyung. Y/N has to leave.” He composed himself to mask the little break in his voice. “Just for now.”
Namjoon, whose brain processed things 10x quicker, gripped your hand, alarmed.
“I’d be damned if we sent Y/N straight to Jungkook’s apartment.” He gritted his teeth, “Especially after what he just did to her.”
His eyes involuntarily swept over the bruises on your neck.
“Of course not,” Yoongi said, folding his arms. “We’ll keep her safe at a hotel.”
Jimin’s fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze.
“Let’s send a few of our bodyguard hyungs to keep her company.”
Hoseok, who had been talking to one of the managers, cut the call and flipped his phone closed.
“It’s already a nightmare on Twitter. We need to secure Y/N as fast as humanly possible. All the tabloids will be raining upon us like vultures soon.”
Namjoon’s leader instincts kicked into action, and before long they were smuggling you into one of their getaway cars.
“Here,” Jimin said, slipped out of his coat and draping it on your head. “Stay low, baby.”
Hoseok slid next to you, and just before he could slam the door shut, Jin’s veiny hand slithered into the crack.
He caught hold of your wrist and gripped hard, as if transferring all his strength over to you. No words were exchanged, but the weight of unspoken words was evident in his grip. You nodded silently, and he let go.
Without losing another second, Hoseok slammed the door and the car raced into the traffic, headed straight to a hotel.
─── ·❆· ───
#WEAREHAPPYFORYOU
#BBSGIRLFRIEND
#WELOVEYOUJK
#CONGRATULATIONS_OUR_JK
The bird app was full of Twitter trends talking about Jungkook’s bombshell. Hoseok’s phone kept buzzing every few seconds from all the posts and hashtags tagging his band’s shared Twitter handle.
He had removed your SIM card and broken it, handing you a new one instead. He had also signed you out of all your social media accounts. You had been essentially cut off from any media that would give your identity away.
“Baby, I’ve ordered room service,” Hoseok said, drawing the blinds closed. He did a routine sweep of the suite, checking for hidden cameras out of habit.
“Do you want anything, Y/N?” he asked, kneeling on the floor, and peering under the bed.
“I just want you to hold me,” you said, hugging your knees and gazing at his bent form.
He looked up, those soft brown eyes emanating so much warmth. Without a word, he dragged himself up and crawled into bed, pulling you into a gentle embrace.
His nose was warm against the side of your neck, and you inhaled deep breaths of his comforting presence. Hoseok had the innate ability to bring cheer wherever he went, and it was probably why your boyfriends had sent him to keep you company.
“Y/N,” he said, drawing the words out. “Don’t… please don’t resent us for this,” he said, and your heart broke.
“No, no, Hobi-” you said, turning slightly to look into his glistening eyes. “-I never will.” Taking his hand, put it against your cheek. “I’d never resent falling in love with all of you.”
He nodded and smiled happily, his fears crumbling to dust.
“Just- don’t let Jungkook ruin what we have,” he whispered, and you hummed in agreement. You had not for one moment regretted being with them. Jin had opened the doors wide open to so much love, much more than you had ever imagined.
─── ·❆· ───
It had been four days since you went into hiding. Your boyfriends took turns to sneak visits, it was a mystery how they managed to achieve that feat without getting caught by paparazzi. To be fair, the hotel you were sheltered in catered to celebrities all the time, and the staff were very discreet.
Your stomach rumbled, and you scratched your tummy. Whether it was due to your impending periods, you didn’t know, but you craved ramen. Especially the kind with tteokbokki – that was your favorite. Did you dare go down to the nearest convenience store and eat some?
Throwing Jin’s hoodie on, you let your hair loose under Taehyung’s beanie. Hoseok’s baggy pants were your favorite, they were oh so comfortable. Your sunglasses took a while to find, they were buried at the bottom of the drawer.
Looking at the mirror, you were satisfied with your camouflage and decided to step out. The walk to the convenience store took longer than you had expected. There wasn’t one in sight for a few blocks. It felt good to stretch your legs after so many days. But by the time you entered a store, you were already wondering if it was a good call.
The store was quiet. A bit too quiet for your liking. You’d have much preferred a crowded and noisy ambiance, it would have made you far less noticeable. The heavy oily smell of sizzling fritters wafted to your nostrils, interspersed with the earthy aroma of ground coffee beans.
There were a few girls around the ramen aisle, and you tried hard to be inconspicuous while scanning the rows for your favorite robokki brand. All went well, and you managed to get the packet scanned and billed.
You were waiting in line to use the hot water dispenser, wishing you’d stayed put in the hotel room. The girl standing before you turned with her cup of hot noodles, catching you smack in the eyes. The sunglasses flew off your face, and the hot liquid from her noodles splashed across your neck.
“I’m so sorry,” she shrieked, setting the noodles down in an attempt to help you.
“No, I- it’s okay,” you muttered, deciding to get the hell out of there. In your haste, you bumped into a few more people standing in line behind you.
“Hey,” a girl shouted, picking up your sunglasses from the floor. “You left this…”
You shook your head and tried to dart out of there, but she was quicker. She body-blocked you, extending her arm towards you. You mumbled a quick “Thanks” and tried to move, but she persisted.
“I’ve seen you…” Suddenly, recognition dawned on her face. “You’re Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend.”
“Er, no,” you said, kicking yourself for ever leaving the hotel.
“Ji Hee! Soo Yeon!” she shrieked, beside herself in excitement. “Come here quick!”
The girls you had seen in the line circled on you, wondering what the commotion was about.
“It’s her! It’s Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend!”
They advanced on you slowly, peering into your shocked face.
“You?” one girl snickered in a mocking tone. “What makes you so special?”
By that time, you were trapped amid four girls, and no one else seemed to care about the bevy of girls in the ramen section.
Another girl took a section of your hair and flicked it in disdain, clicking her tongue.
“Just what did oppa see in you?”
The third one egged her friend on saying, “Good that you threw ramen over her, Min Ji!”
“Empty the rest on her too!”
You started to back away, but the girl behind you pushed you, sending you tumbling forward.
“Let me g-“
The girl had thrown the rest of her noodles on you before you even finished your sentence. Instinctively, your eyes closed for a split second, and you felt your hair being pulled. A weak slap managed to jerk your face sideways before the owner yelled out loudly.
“Hey, no fighting. Take it outside!”
One arm grabbed your hoodie, and another pulled you out by the hair. The one called Soo Yeon threw your sunglasses on the pavement and stepped on it, crushing the glass to bits.
Passersby began to stare, and you had no choice but to make a run for it. You were stronger than your assailants, partly because Jungkook had been your gym partner, and all those arm days came to your rescue.
It was no use to try and keep a low profile now that you were out on the road. Pushing one girl away, you landed a karate chop on the arm pulling your hair. The owner of the arm yelped in pain, and you barreled towards the third one, butting her torso with your head and sending her tumbling down.
You ran like the wind, not once looking back. You hoped fervently that no passerby had recorded the whole tussle on their phone. God, you’d ruin your boyfriends if the little spectacle ever went viral.
Dripping in ramen and terribly out of breath, you made it to the hotel’s private entrance. A car was pulling up, and a startled voice called out your name just as you pressed the elevator button.
“Y/N?”
Jimin bounded out of the car, startled at seeing your disheveled appearance.
“What the hell happened?”
─── ·❆· ───
“But why did you call this urgent meeting, Namjoonah?” the band’s executive PD asked, rolling the paperweight on the table. The conference room in the BBS building was where the group’s most iconic song lyrics were birthed. It had been a room that had witnessed loud arguments about line distribution, heartbreaks over missed awards, and collective joy over record breaks.
“Let the others arrive,” Namjoon replied, his jaw set in determination.
Jin came in soon, followed by a steady trickle of the rest of the band. All except Jungkook of course.
“The fuck is he?” Namjoon bit out, impatiently glancing at the digital clock.
“We’ll get down to business anyway, good that’s he’s not here now,” Jin said, putting an arm over Taehyung’s lap to stop him from fidgeting.
“Well then,” the PD said, dragging a notepad towards him. “What is the purpose of this meeting?”
Everyone looked at Namjoon in unison, expecting him to spell it out for them.
“We all want to terminate our contracts with the agency,” he began, causing the PD to inhale sharply and lean forward urgently.
“What?”
“… effective immediately,” Namjoon said, his mouth set in a straight line.
“But why? Have we failed you in any way? You can tell me your grievances! I can try and resolve…”
Yoongi’s slow drawling voice eclipsed his boss’s.
“We are willing to reconsider if…”
The PD’s eyes widened in urgency. “If?”
“If you terminate Jungkook’s contract instead.”
Right on cue, the door opened and Jungkook walked in, an air of lazy arrogance stamped all over him.
He slipped into a seat, swiveling on his chair from left to right just to spite the men who were glaring at him.
“Don’t own a watch?” Jin asked scathingly, earning just a cool raise of eyebrows in response.
The PD was still speechless from the earlier discussion, so he didn’t participate in the bickering over Jungkook’s lack of punctuality. The babble of voices grew louder and louder around him.
“I don’t care for your disapproval,” Jungkook was shouting, slapping his fist on the table, when the boss shook himself into action.
“Stop!” he yelled, his voice cutting through the cacophony.
He glared at the youngest member, effectively silencing him.
“Now, what the hell is this actually about?” He turned to Jin. “You! Eldest! Speak.”
Jin looked at Namjoon, who nodded encouragingly. He cleared his throat, unsure how to start.
“Well, you know about our girlfriend…”
The boss sighed. Of course, this was about you. He had been privy to the unusual relationship between you and his artists. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this rift to occur sometime or the other. He had had years of experience working with hormonal youngsters to expect otherwise.
“Personal conflicts cannot influence your contracts,” he said, eyeing Jin sternly.
“Yeah, tell him,” Jungkook drawled haughtily.
“And you, shut your face,” the boss spat out, furious that his multimillion-dollar band was fraying at the edges because of girl problems.
“Personal?” Taehyung asked incredulously. “Of course it’s personal! Our girlfriend got assaulted and harassed because of him!”
“Correction. My girlfriend,” Jungkook said, staring at Jin’s throbbing neck veins. “She’d have been safe with me if she hadn’t been kidnapped and left uncared for.”
“The nerve,” Hoseok shouted, getting to his feet angrily.
Jimin pulled him back to his seat, hissing sharply.
“Sit down, hyung. Don’t let him get under your skin.”
Jungkook leaned forward, his black eyes glowering at Jin.
“I want to know where you’ve hidden her.”
“You’ve caused her enough harm,” Yoongi snapped. “You were the one who violated her privacy. You showed her to the world. You are the reason she got assaulted. You jeopardized her safety.”
Jungkook pursed his lips in stony mutiny. He had no witty response to Yoongi’s allegations.
“Well, PDnim, we want Jungkook’s contract terminated immediately. We refuse to work with him,” Jimin said, getting back on track.
“If you terminate me,” Jungkook said, leaning on his chair and rocking himself gently, “I’ll sue you. Every one of you. I’ll sue the agency till there isn’t a penny left.”
─── ·❆· ───
You knew it hadn’t gone well as soon as you saw the disgruntled looks on your boyfriends’ faces. They had all come to your hotel room with sulky faces.
“Babe?” you asked, holding the coat as Hoseok shrugged himself out of it.
“No go, Y/N,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “PDnim can’t terminate him. And he threatened to sue the agency too.”
There had been only a slim chance of it ever working out, so it wasn’t a big blow. But it did sting your boyfriends to even think of working with Jungkook ever again.
Jin pulled you snug against his body, sighing heavily.
“We’ll figure something out,” you said, squeezing his big arms that were wound around your torso.
“Hmm,” he mumbled half-heartedly. “We got you some lamb skewers,” he said, burying his face into your neck.
“Oh damn it, I sat on it!” Namjoon whined, guiltily eyeing the now squished package he dug out of his coat.
Everyone giggled, a sudden ease settling amid everyone in the house. It felt just like old times. Well, at least partially.
“Fuck you, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said, pulling the package from his clumsy brother. “Now I need to operate on this and save it.”
Another wave of giggles. Somehow it felt like you would all survive the situation and turn out okay.
“Mmm, kiss me,” Taehyung said, sandwiching you between Jin and himself. “I love it when you laugh.”
He dipped his head, cupping your cheeks fondly. Jin pressed himself against your back, his hands moving up to cup your breasts.
“Yah, get a room!” Hoseok snickered, slapping Taehyung’s butt playfully.
You smirked in response, pulling Taehyung’s boxy lips towards your mouth, and leaving teasing licks on the corner of his mouth.
“Ah, don’t tease,” he complained, his outrageously deep voice sending shivers up your spine. Jin’s hands squeezed your breasts through your shirt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Jin was a sucker for your tits, he loved playing with them. They were his drug of choice.
His bulge poked your back, and he slowly moved backward, taking care not to disturb Taehyung’s kissing. The others barely paid attention, they were lounging about, talking, or scrolling through their phones.
Jin was halfway through a doorway when Jimin’s surprised yell stilled him.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, furiously swiping on his phone.
Taehyung was just as startled, and you peeked around his head to see what bothered Jimin so much.
“What is it?” you began to ask, just as the others started to crane their heads over Jimin’s phone.
No one responded, so you pulled yourself out of the Jin-Tae sandwich and went to investigate. Pushing Hoseok’s head to the side, you stared at Jimin’s screen. And your jaw dropped to the floor.
‘BREAKING NEWS: BBS Band member’s girlfriend cheats on him with ANOTHER member!
Tap to see SHOCKING pictures!’
─── ·❆· ───
#bts fanfiction#bts smut#bts x reader#poly ot7#ot7 smut#bts ff#bangtan ff#bangtan fanfic#bts fanfic#bts namjoon smut#bts yoongi smut#bts jimin smut#bts taehyung smut#bts jin smut#bts hoseok smut#bts jungkook smut#kpop fanfic#kpop yandere#yandere kpop#kpop x reader#kpop smut#bts yandere#yandere bts#yandere#yandere fanfiction#lover bouquet#jooniyah#tw: violence#tw: yandere#tw: noncon
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When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)
Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting
Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ
A:
You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.
Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.
Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.
Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.
Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.
“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.
Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”
You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.
He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.
Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.
The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.
“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.
“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.
“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”
Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.
“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.
“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”
Petty by Angel Reyes.
“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.
“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”
“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.
“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”
“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.
Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”
“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.
Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.
“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”
You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.
“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.
He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”
“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.
His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.
He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.
“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.
You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.
“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.
He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”
--------
C:
It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.
Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.
It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.
You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.
Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.
You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.
“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”
You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”
“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”
She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.
“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.
“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.
It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.
Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.
All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???
He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.
The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.
His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.
You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.
He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.
“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.
The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.
You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.
“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.
He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”
“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.
“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.
Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”
“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.
Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.
“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”
“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.
You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.
He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.
“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”
He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-
“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”
“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.
“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.
“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”
It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.
“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.
He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.
“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.
“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”
“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”
You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”
“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.
Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.
You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”
You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.
He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”
--------
E:
It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.
As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.
That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.
“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.
“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”
“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”
EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.
Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.
“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”
“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.
EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”
Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.
“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”
EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.
You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.
“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.
“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”
You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”
“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”
“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.
He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.
“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”
You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.
“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”
They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.
Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.
Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.
Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.
He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.
“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”
He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.
The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.
He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.
“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.
“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”
“I don’t mind, I know clu-“
Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”
“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.
“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.
In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.
Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.
Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.
It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.
His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.
His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?
He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.
He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.
He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.
“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”
“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”
You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”
He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.
You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”
“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.
“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”
He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”
AN:
I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.
1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾♀️
2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.
3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.
#mayans mc#mayans imagine#angel reyes#angel reyes x reader#Coco Cruz#Coco Cruz x reader#ez reyes x reader#ez reyes#reader insert
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need you.
you hated him.
sometimes, sometimes you hated him other times you loved him like there was nothing ever wrong with him, but all the time, it would be the both of you against the world.
you guys were on one of your many breaks and during that break you’d do anything to piss him off.
it was summertime meaning that parties in the area was unlimited and you and your girls made it to everyone of them. you were well known, the girl every girl wanted to be and the guy every girl wanted to fuck, both people were unable to achieve. you weren’t a mean girl but people knew not fuck with you especially because of him, Nate Jacobs.
he was psycho about you, he wouldn’t dare let anyone disrespect you as far as he was concerned he was the only one allowed to disrespect you in anyway and he took advantage of that.
as you walked into the party you spotted him, making out with some whore trying his hardest to get jealous or to lash out in anyway. your drive on the way to the party your friends gave you some speech about being the bigger person and how you shouldn’t allow him to bring you out of your character, but as soon as you saw his little charade, you forgot all about this “bigger person” thing. you were only 5”4 anyway, it physically wasn’t possible.
you walked past, swaying your hips a little harder as you strut onto the dancefloor. it wasnt hard to find someone to dance with as you grinded and thrusted yourself on your partner, making sure to stay in Nate’s view, he deserved to see this show.
after only 2 minutes of your dancing its as if his patience with this whole thing had run thing, he walked towards you dragging you upstairs to an empty room, tossing you on the bed. you love it when he was rough with you.
“what the fuck y/n?”
“what the fuck nate?”
“do you have to act like a whore to get my attention? baby you know you just have to ask if you want daddy to give you attention,” he whispered in your ears as he climbed ontop on you.
“daddy can fuck off. i don’t need your attention, clearly i’m able to get it without doing much “ you bit back
Nate loved how you talked back, you weren’t like other girls. Other girls would go on their knees and let him do whatever he wanted, never saying anything back to him, but you, oh no no, you weren’t afraid of him, your pride meant more to you than anyone even him.
he held your throat putting pressure on the sides, as he kissed down your body. your skintight dress had rode up your thighs give him a peak at your pink lace thong that he actually bought you. you see, you knew Nate wouldnt be able to hold back, you knew you’d get your way or rather what you wanted and you needed to be dicked down.
he shifted your thong to the side placing soft kisses on your slit while massaging your chest, his favorite part of you. his tongue moved to massage your walls, licking and sucking your nub, he was good to you when he wanted to be.
“nate lets it get it over with, stick your dick in me already” you said annoyed by the “love making” he was trying to do
“okay okay”
the man had girth, it was thick and long, hitting places that you wouldnt be able to reach on your own
“ughhhh, you’re such an asshole but you fuck me soo good” you moaned out
“yeah i know princess, this is your dick, forever and always y/n”
“yh whatever, just please dont stop”
he gripped your thighs pushing them against your chest, thrusting his dick deeper into your warm core
“oh right there nate, right fucking there, dont stop im gonna cum”
“im not gonna stop, cum on my dick baby, c’mon let me see you cream on my cock”
and with that, you came and he followed, cumming into your warm pussy.
“ooh i love this pussy so muchhh fuckkk” he shouted as he came
he fell onto your heaving chest, the both of your out of breath and out of your mind. when you came back to your sense, you pushed him off, getting up to get dressed.
“where are you going y’n?” he questioned watching you pull up your panties and fix your skirt.
“enjoy the party bye.”
you got what you wanted, no need to prolong this meeting.
#nate jacobs#nate jacobs fanfic#euphoria#euphoria season 2#euphoria nate jacobs#euphoria fanfic#jacob elordi#jacob elordi fic#fanfic#fanficgirl444
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YOU’RE MINE, NOT HIS
CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP// BAKUGO X F!READER
Warning: NSFW 18+, cheating (not really), fingering, unprotected sex
You and Izuku have gotten very close recently while studying together, and a certain someone isnt very happy about it.
AN: Poor Izuku 🥺 I felt so bad writing this, but so good at the same time lol I must write something soon to pay him back//also send me requests for oneshots! im down to try anything you guys might want!
WC: 2k
Masterlist
You and Izuku had a ‘study date’ last night at his house. You were hardly struggling in organic chem, just needed an excuse to come over at this point. You two had been meeting for tutoring sessions for the last two months or so. Your grades had thoroughly improved since then, so most people believed thats all you two were doing; studying. And you were, of course, but as of recently it was a lot more than that. It started with innocent glances at your chest while you took notes, brushing his fingers along your leg when you couldn’t figure out the answer to a question, and you weren’t oblivious. You began to reciprocate the feeling, wearing shorter skirts to bend over and pick up your pencil, laying your hands on his chest when you begged him to give you the answers. He adored the way you looked up at him so innocently, with pleading eyes, desperately needing his help. He loved helping you improve, after all, he wanted you to become a great hero by his side one day.
However, not everyone was oblivious to you and Izuku’s little sessions. Bakugo knew something was going on between you two. He had never seen Izuku so protective over someone the way he was with you. He hated the way the green-haired boy would stare at you with dark eyes when you spoke to another male student. He noticed how he’d always want to be around you, his demeanor changing when you would leave for a different class or when training sessions were split up. Bakugo was utterly disgusted by it, but it gave him an evil idea. ‘She doesn’t belong to him, she never will, I’ll be sure of it’ he thought to himself.
After last nights study session, you failed to realize that you had left your textbook on his bed. He noticed soon after you left and texted you, telling you not to worry and that he’d bring it for you tomorrow morning. You had missed him in the morning though, running late from going to get an iced coffee, so you decided you would get it from his bag in the locker room before your chem class. You both had training but you had to go to a different site with the rest of the girls, while the boys stayed in a closer facility.
Your water quirk meant that you spent a lot of time getting wet, so naturally, your hero suit looked like an elegant yet sexy two piece swim suit. The top was white, long sleeved with a cut out above your breasts and the bottoms were a standard bikini bottom, with sheer white tights that were waterproof. You always felt so weird wearing it during co-ed training sessions, but Momo urged you to feel confident in it, telling you that you looked sooo hot in it. You got to the girls locker room early to slip into your hero suit. You made your way over to the boys locker room and took a peek inside. They all seemed to be out and training already so you snuck inside. You looked around before you spotted his bag, his All Might backpack. You chuckled a bit before bending over to unzip the bag. You grabbed your textbook from it and zipped the bag back up. You stood up to leave but when you turned to face the door, a large figure stood in your way.
“Oi, what do you think you’re doing in here?” the intimidating blonde scoffed at you. You shuffled backwards, clutching your book in your arms. You were sure that everyone had left already, was he here the whole time? He began to step forward before he was standing an inch from you. You looked up to meet his eyes that were piercing down at you.
“And you’ve got your sexy little hero suit on, its almost like you wanted to get caught in here” he laughed with a devilish grin.
“I-I have training to go to. I was getting my textbook from Izuku’s bag” you managed to say. His eyes filled with rage upon hearing his name. He thought of the late nights you two spent together, he imagined Izuku talking down to you, treating you like some helpless puppy, acting like he was some sort of hero, taking advantage of you. You were taken back by the face he made at you. You knew Bakugo hated Izuku, but what did your relationship with him have to do with that? Was he jealous? Or spiteful?
“I dont know what you see in Deku, but I can promise you, you’ll forget all about him after this” Bakugo said in a husky voice. ‘After what?’ you thought. Before you had time to think, his hand was wrapped around your neck as he pulled his lips to yours, crashing the two together. You and Izuku weren’t dating, but something about this felt wrong. You pulled yourself away from him and stepped back.
“Bakugo, w-we shouldn’t, this isn’t right”
“I don’t think you belong to him do you? Come on, I see the way you look at me”
He was right, you do look at him with flirtatious eyes, or at least, you used to. Before you and Izuku started meeting to study, you would fawn over Bakugo. He never seemed to return the feelings however, always picking on you or making fun of you. You deemed that as him being uninterested, so you moved on from your infatuation, but you were very wrong. He never stopped watching over you, showing his affection in his own odd way. But his heart dropped when he realized you didn’t look at him the same anymore, but looked at Izuku that way instead. He couldn’t stand to see you with that nerd when he deserved to have you. You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he had stepped closer to you. You were up against the lockers now, your exposed back grazing the cold metal.
He bent down and whispered seductively in your ear, “Let me make you feel good baby, we don’t have much time in here and I think you should see what a real man feels like”. He pressed his lips to yours, more feverishly this time, as if he was about to lose you. His tongue invaded your mouth and tangled with yours. You didn’t pull away this time so he slipped his hand under your suit and began to grab at your breast. He brought his coarse fingers to your nipples and began gently rolling it around between them. You let out a breathy moan into his mouth. He shuddered at the sound of your voice, he loved hearing you enjoy his touch.
He traced his free hand down your stomach until he got to the waist band of your tight bottoms. You squeeze his shoulder with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He slipped his hand underneath and started by running his fingers along your folds. He dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to gently pump them in and out of you. He removed his lips from yours, moving down to your neck, sucking and biting at your tender flesh. You let out soft cries as his fingers pick up the pace.
“Tell me what you want” he demanded, looking back up into your eyes. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest as you remembered why you were in the locker room in the first place. Anguish and regret was painted on your face and Bakugo noticed.
“Don’t feel bad baby, what he doesn’t know cant hurt him, now be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want” he said as he plunged another finger inside you. Your legs shook and all your thoughts of Izuku vanished under his touch. He was only trying to comfort you in the moment, but he wanted Izuku to know what you two were doing.
“P-please I want you, I want you i-inside please” you begged. You needed to feel him, you needed him to fuck you.
“I knew it, Deku’s just not doing it for ya is he?” he said with a cocky grin. Truth be told, you and Izuku had never gotten that far before because he was taking things too slow. You desperately needed a good fuck, it had been months since you’ve last felt this good. You knew Izuku would be a gentle sweetheart in the sheets but you needed someone who could do both; fuck you senseless but also make love, and Bakugo could hit both those marks.
He removed his fingers from you as you clenched around the emptiness he left. He pulled your bottoms down and quickly turned you around, pushing your face into the lockers. You hear him fumble to unzip his pants before he prodded his member at your entrance. You couldn’t look back to see exactly how big he was but when he began to drag his cock along your folds, your legs started to tremble. He gathered your slick and pushed into you. You let out a loud cry as your walls grasped onto his girthy cock. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back, holding them with one hand. He started to violently pound into you, his balls slapping against your swollen lips, echoing in the empty locker room. He used his free hand to reach around and started to swirl his fingers around your sensitive nub. His pace never let up, he started to thrust harder and deeper with every second. Tears started to form as you felt your orgasm coming up.
“Who do you belong to?” he grunted into your ear, his breath hot against your neck.
“You Katsuki, I be-belong to you”
“Thats right babygirl, only me, now cum all over my cock”
Your legs began to quiver and your entire body convulsed. You let out a long cry as your walls clenched and released your juices all over him. He couldn’t take much more after that and removed his hand from your nub before he grabbed at your ass, gripping onto it for dear life. His pace quickened before he quickly pulled out, his cock twitching, warm shots of cum spurting all over your back and ass. He leaned to kiss you on the cheek then walked over to his bag, pulling out a small white towel. You stayed motionless, still with your face pressed against the lockers waiting for him to return. He cleaned you up and turned you around to face him. Realizing how long you two were in there, you quickly pulled your bottoms and tights up, fearful that the other boys would be returning any moment. Bakugo looked disappointed in how rushed you were to leave him. You tried to step forward but he planted a hand next to your head against the lockers. With his other hand he tilted your chin up and placed a soft kiss on your lips.
“You know I can tutor you right?” he said with a small smirk. You blushed at the suggestion. You didn’t really need tutoring anymore, but you would love to see him again. Before you could answer you heard a door open. Bakugo removed his arm from the locker and turned to look at who interrupted you two.
“Y/n! Are you okay? Did you find my bag?” he asked sympathetically. You swallowed hard and just nodded, bending to pick up the textbook you had dropped. You quickly scurried to the door before looking back at Bakugo quickly with a stern eye, as if signaling for him to ‘keep his mouth shut’. He looked back at you with a devious smile and a wink before you shut the door.
“What are you doing in here with y/n? What did you do?”
“I just taught her a lesson, I don’t think she’ll be needing your help anymore” Bakugo said with a smug grin before leaving Izuku alone in the locker room.
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“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨?”
your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.
PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader
GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)
(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT
More.
One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.
It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.
When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.
Knock. Knock.
You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.
Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.
The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.
Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”
“Go away, Satoru.”
Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.
He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.
“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.
“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”
“Yeah, can you go now?”
“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.
It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,” a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.
“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”
“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”
“I don’t need your help.”
He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.
“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”
“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”
“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”
Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”
He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”
“Nah.”
“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.
“I guess.”
He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.
The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.
Satoru.
Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.
You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”
“Sure.”
He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.
Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.
And he’s your step brother.
Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”
“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.
“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.
“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.
“It’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”
“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”
“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.
You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”
“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”
You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.
“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.
The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.
The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.
You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.
Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”
“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.
The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.
“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.
You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.
His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets.
Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“S-shut up-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”
His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth.
He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.
“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”
Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”
He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.
Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.
#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#tw.weed#tw.manipulation#tw.dubcon#tw.degradation#tw.squirting#tw.creampie#tw.stepcest#tw.high sex#tw.exhibitionism#tw.oral#tw.size kink#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk fics#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#tw.sensory deprivation#tw.dacryphilia#🌟 — works!
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Kinda Like It When You Lie
Pairing: Destroyer!Chris x Reader
Summary: You discover the reason why Chris has been lying to you about his whereabouts.
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: le smut, le angst, le toxicity but a sorta happy ending I guess???
A/N: I tagged everyone in my Everything Bucky tag list because why not lmfao okay but no, I’m not sure how often I will be writing fics for Seb’s other characters so I won’t be having a separate tag list for that yet. If this isn’t something you’re not interested in, feel free to ignore skskks
I am dedicating this piece to @lookiamtrying who got so pissed off that her mans Chris got a lower vote count than Mickey (prior to the release of Monday) when I did my character fic survey lmfao ilysm, Mina!!! This was also inspired by FLETCHER’s If You’re Gonna Lie
MAIN MASTERLIST
Chris kissed you as if it was his last day on earth. It made your insides twist in a blissful way, the kind of kiss that literally took your breath away and made your head spin. You could feel your lungs burning up from the lack of oxygen and yet you didn’t want to pull away.
All you could focus on was how his lips moved against yours, how his tongue danced around your mouth as if he owned you. And in that moment, he really did.
You got lost in Chris— his taste, his rough palms against the smooth expanse of your skin, his weight on top of you as he pressed you down against the cheap motel bed.
It wasn’t until you tried to touch Chris that you realized he had restrained your wrists with something cold and hard. Pulling away from his fervent kiss, you glanced up and saw that he had both of your wrists handcuffed against the headboard.
Tugging at your wrists, you let out a chuckle. “What’re ya, a cop?” you asked.
Chris breathed out through his nose, “Kinda.” he rasped out before taking your bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging at it before sliding his tongue back into your mouth.
You moaned into the kiss and opened up your legs to fully accommodate Chris’ huge build, his pelvis thrusting against your clothed core making you whine against his lips.
“You gonna arrest me or somethin’?” you asked playfully, tilting your neck to the side as you allowed Chris to nip at your skin, his thick beard scratching you much to your delight.
He pulled back to look at your eyes, “Only for stealin’ my heart, darling.”
-
What you thought was a one-night stand turned into something more. Not that you were complaining, in fact, you’d quickly fallen head over heels for Chris. How could you not when he was the most honest man you’d met in your entire life?
After that first night, Chris told you everything about him and his job. An FBI agent who needed to go undercover as a drug dealer in order to infiltrate a huge drug syndicate. He had been undercover for a while now and it was consuming, he said. That’s how you found him drinking alone at the bar you worked at.
“You planning to consume our entire stock of beers or what?”
Chris let out a breathy chuckle as you placed two more bottles of beer on his table. The man had been in the bar for hours now, drowning his miseries away since his arrival. You noticed him as soon as he sauntered into the bar— all beard and tattooed muscles on display with the denim vest he wore.
“I’m sorry.” he huffed out and you were surprised at how soft spoken he was despite his tough exterior. “Work’s been stressing me out, is all.” He explained with a firm smile.
You couldn’t help but return the gesture, “Thought you were stressin’ over your girl.” You smirked.
Chris narrowed his eyes at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. “Got no girl to come home to.” He said, voice an octave lower and a little bit rougher.
You bit your lip and shrugged, “Man like you can easily find a solution to that.” You said and winked before heading back behind the bar, swaying your hips a little more than the usual.
By the time you reached the bar, you looked back at Chris and caught him staring with a certain look in his eyes.
The same look he would give you whenever you get mad at him for coming home late. The look that always won you over no matter what.
-
“You said you’d be home by eight, Chris. That was four hours ago.”
Chris rubbed his face and dropped his keys on the tray by the front door. You watched him with suspecting eyes as he trudged towards you, eyes tired yet apologetic.
“‘m sorry, sweetheart. Went out with the guys, you know how it is.” he said and tried to reach out to you but you were quick to step back.
“Could’ve texted me, y’know? I made dinner, your favorite. Got cold and decided to throw it in the bin when you didn’t show up.” you said, shaking your head in disappointment and turned around to retreat back into the bedroom.
Chris caught you and gripped your waist in his strong hands, preventing you from further walking away. He pulled your back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck as he whispered apologies into your ear.
“I’m sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you, huh?” he murmured roughly into your ear. “Wanna make you feel good, make you forget my sins.” he teased, earning a soft chuckle from you.
He sucked the skin beneath your earlobe, making your knees weak and your core throb. Chris gently turned you around to face him until your eyes met his-- dark and still apologetic, you wondered why because you’d already forgiven him the moment his hands touched your skin.
Your question was immediately forgotten when Chris kissed you, tongue quickly finding its way into your mouth. His kisses were always so urgent, so hungry and feral.
He always kissed you as if it was the last time.
Clothes strewn everywhere, raspy grunts and high pitched moans, sweaty bodies moving against each other. Every single time you and Chris argued, it always ended the same way, with you giving in to his sweet words and hot touches.
A hand on your nape kept your cheek pressed down onto the mattress as Chris pounded you from behind. Laying flat on your stomach, you could feel every ridge and every vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls. Gripping the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you slightly lifted your ass up earning a harsh spank from Chris.
“You fuckin’ like it when I fuck you rough?” he growled, spanking your ass again before squeezing it into his large hand.
You whimpered at the cold sensation of the rings on Chris’ fingers, wanting it to mark your skin as soon as he was done with you. You moaned when Chris pulled back until only the tip of his hard cock remained in your tight pussy. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes when he pushed your nape further into the mattress at the same time he slammed back in with such force that made you elicit a sound akin to a wail.
“Right there, Chris!” you wantonly pleaded, your drool soaking the sheets beneath you.
“I got you, baby. Gonna fuck you so good you’d forget what you were mad about.”
And forget you did, not just once, not twice. Not even thrice. Every single time Chris came home to you smelling like someone else’s perfume when he claimed to be out with his friends, you always ended up willingly forgetting about it. Chris had you wrapped around his finger and you knew it.
You knew he was lying about his whereabouts and the thing was, you chose to believe in it.
Because with each lie that slipped past his lips, came the sweetest apology followed by a promise to make you feel good and Chris always delivered.
You’d rather hear Chris’ lies than to hear his goodbye just so you can have him in your bed again and again and again.
-
The last lie you tolerated was when he forgot about your anniversary and came home the next day, all moody and grumpy. He went straight to the bathroom, mumbling about how he was tired from work and you didn’t know whether he was lying again or not.
You’d believed too many of his lies by now that you couldn’t even determine which ones were the truth and which ones weren’t.
“Happy anniversary to us, Chris. In case you forgot.” you said as soon as he got out of the shower.
Chris’ face fell, eyes refusing to meet yours from shame. He should be ashamed and so should you, because you’ve tolerated his lies for a year now and no matter how much you wanted to confront him, you always ended up forgiving him.
“Fuck.” he cursed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...the buy bust operation was last night and it slipped my mind.” he said.
And there it was again, the look in his eyes that turned you into a moaning mess beneath him as soon as his lips found yours. Whenever Chris would lie, it always seemed to be so fucking worth it. Because he always fucked you senseless until you were stupid for him, enough to let him get away with his pathetic excuses.
But not tonight, because as Chris bent you in half with his cock slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you promised that this will be the last time you’d enjoy the aftermath of his lies.
“Come on, baby. Give me one more. Want this pussy to milk my cock dry, c’mon pretty girl.” he urged, slipping a hand in between your sweaty bodies, his thumb swiping at your clit until stars exploded behind your eyes.
His name was chanted out like a prayer, your lips red and swollen from being kissed and bitten. A few more hard thrusts and you felt Chris spill his seed into you, warm ropes of his cum painting your walls. He carefully slipped your legs off from his shoulders before laying down on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your chest as the both of you caught on your breaths.
“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Chris turned his head to you, trying to read your face but you kept your gaze on the ceiling. Tears escaped your eyes as you laid on the bed, blinking them away when they wouldn’t stop spilling.
“I want the truth, Chris.” you added, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
The bed moved when Chris sat up, reaching for your face and turning it to wards him. Your lips were trembling, fighting back your sob. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I’m sorry.” he said.
“I don’t want your apology, Chris. I want the truth, please.” you begged.
“I can’t stay with you anymore.” he said.
You frowned and sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your naked body. “Who’s she?” you asked. “I know you’ve been seein’ someone behind my back, I want to know. Who is she? ‘nother FBI agent? Or someone you met while you were undercover?” you were more of mad than hurt now, all your suppressed emotions finally resurfacing and begging to be released.
Chris swallowed and refused to meet your gaze, “It’s...it’s not like that.” he said.
“The fuck you mean, Chris?” you asked.
There was silence for a brief moment, as if Chris was gathering up all the courage he had left in him. And then he looked at you with the same guilty, apologetic eyes again. But it was different now because you knew that there wouldn’t be anymore lies which meant no more sweet talk and no more Chris in your bed until the next morning.
“I never cheated on you.” he huffed out. “I’ve always been...with Erin.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You were a part of my undercover. The leader of the drug syndicate I was trying to infiltrate frequented the bar you worked at. Needed to get as much as information as I can and I easily got that when we started—”
Your hand trembled after landing a solid slap on Chris’ face. Your heart ached, your vision spun and suddenly, nothing made any sense to you anymore. All this time, you thought that was Chris was being unfaithful to you when in truth, he was cheating…with you.
Now you finally understood why he always kissed you as if it was the last time, why he looked at you with those apologetic eyes whenever he came home late, whenever he lied.
Chris told you the entire truth, that he was at the bar during an operation and not after. He manipulated you into believing that everything he told you were real, that he was a good and an honest man, that Erin was nothing but a partner at work.
“When you said you love me, was that a lie too?” you asked, voice breaking because this was too much. Everything was too much.
Chris held your face in between his hands, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks, “No. No, that wasn’t a lie. I do, I love you. As soon as the operation was done, I couldn’t say goodbye. I always said I’d tell you the truth but I couldn’t. I wish I hadn’t met you like this.” he reassured.
You pushed him away and covered your face with your hands, unable to believe that for an entire year, you’d dedicated your life and your love to someone who had been using you.
“Does she know about me?” you asked.
Chris nodded, “She does.”
You scoffed, “She fuckin’ pities me, doesn’t she? Probably told you to take your time, ‘cause the truth will fuckin’ ruin me.” you said and chuckled bitterly.
“You used me, Chris. Fuckin’ used me and made me a goddamn fool. Is Chris even your real name? Who the fuck are you?” you asked.
“I lied about everything except for two things. My name and when I said I love you.”
You shook your head, wiping away your tears. You’ve finally woken up, brought yourself back to consciousness and decided to accept that Chris was never honest and that not once did he become yours.
“Liar.”
-
Picking up the pieces of your broken trust was very much like working with the shards of a broken mirror. At times you came out unscathed but for the most part, you were left wounded and bleeding and in pain.
Putting all the broken pieces back together was definitely not easy and it took you years to do so. No matter how careful you were though, the mirror was never completed. There were ugly cracks and everywhere that you couldn’t hide and there was a missing piece. But that’s alright, because you tried to put yourself back together and you weren’t perfect but at least you did your best.
The bar you started working for was quite new, which explained how busy it was even on a slow Wednesday. It wasn’t as big as the old bar you used to work at, but this was newer and catered to a more classy crowd.
No rough bikers, no FBI agents going undercover, no funny businesses.
“Two bottles of beer for table seven.” your manager called out, “Thought it’d be slow today, boy was I wrong.” she commented to which you chuckled.
Taking out two ice-cold bottles from the fridge, you weaved through the crowd and tables until you reached your destination. Placing the bottles on top of the table, you asked the customer if he wanted to order something to go with his drinks.
Taking out your notepad, you finally looked up and was met with a pair of familiar blue eyes. You almost didn’t recognize Chris if it weren’t for those eyes. He was no longer sporting a buzz cut and had longer locks, his beard had grown out but was well-trimmed. His tattooed arms weren’t in full display and instead of the usual denim outfits he wore, he was merely clad in a plaid, maroon button down shirt.
“Hi.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, “Let me guess, you’re undercover and your target is a frequent customer here.” you said.
Chris laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, “I quit from that job years ago.” he said, much to your surprise.
“You stressin’ over your girl?” you asked.
“Got no girl to come home to...anymore.” Chris replied, those damn apologetic eyes making your knees weak once again.
You rolled your eyes at him and placed your notepad back in your apron, “If you’ve nothin’ else to order, then enjoy your beer. I guess.” you said and turned around but was quickly tugged back when Chris grabbed at your wrist.
Scowling at him, you eyed his hand and then back up at his eyes. They didn’t look apologetic though, you realized, he was giving you the same look but something was different.
You just didn’t know what changed.
“I did love you.” he said. “And I still do and I want to come home to you again.” he quickly added, tightening his grip around your wrist as if he was afraid to let you go.
Surprisingly, there was not an ounce of anger left in your heart. It had been a complete three years since the incident. He left you feeling used and broken but you managed to fix yourself. Not completely, but enough to find it in your heart to forgive Chris for what he did.
“I want to believe you, I really do. But it’s hard for me to do that now.” you explained.
Chris nodded in understanding, “I know but I want to start over again. Make things right, if you’d let me. No lies this time, just me and my truth.” he said, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the inside of your wrist.
Honesty. Pure and genuine honesty— that’s what changed in the way Chris looked at you. There wasn’t any guilt in there anymore, no hidden agendas and whatnot.
Just the truth and the missing piece you never knew you needed to complete your mirror.
-
Everything Bucky Tag List:
@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky
#bbb writes#oneshots: destroyer!chris#destroyer!chris#destroyer!chris x reader#destroyer!chris x you#destroyer!chris angst#destroyer!chris smut#sebastian stan
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Patience
Pairing: Wrecker x reader
Tags: little bit of angst, dom!Wrecker, cock warming, sex in the pilot seat (sorry tech), overstimulation, implied squirting, probably some other stuff I'm not thinking of
A/N: I had no idea how to end this so it's a little hasty at the end hope ya'll don't mind. Also no idea if I'm tagging people correctly
Taglist: @4rosydreams @kesshou-otome @cobiwanbanobi
NSFW below the cut
A shower had never felt so good. You didn’t even care that it was cold, after months on that godforsaken planet you were finally home. As one of the few females on base, you got your own room but you also knew that more than likely Wrecker would probably be passed out on your bed once you opened the ‘fresher door.
He hadn’t followed you to your room after the mission like he normally did. Hopefully, it was just because he wanted a shower just as badly as you did. But you also couldn’t help but think it probably had to do with your behavior on the mission which you still needed to genuinely apologize for. You’d lost your temper when he made a risky decision, not following the plan.
“Why can’t you be patient for once?!” You’d shouted at him.
In the few years, you’d known the Batch, you’d never raised your voice to any of them. And definitely not Wrecker even in the past year you’d been dating. It was out of character for you and it startled the entire team. Even Crosshair was shocked. And the look your boyfriend gave you broke your heart. But you didn’t want to admit you were in the wrong in front of them. You just wanted them to be safe and if they thought they’d piss you off by doing stupid shit, then you’d be the bad guy.
You turned the water off before wrapping yourself in a towel, the standard-issue military towel almost too small to cover you properly. Walking through your room to grab your blacks you were disappointed to see that Wrecker wasn’t there. Well, you needed sleep anyway. As you crawled into bed, it felt wrong. Too empty without being snuggled up to the large trooper. Maybe things would be back to normal in the morning.
~~~
The next morning you wandered down the halls of Kamino looking for your squad. Peeking into their barracks you were disappointed to see all of them, minus Wrecker.
“If you’re looking for Wrecker he slept in the Marauder last night.” Crosshair all but growled at you.
You made a face, “what? Why?”
“You really have to ask?” He scowled at you, normally he was pretty neutral toward you but he obviously didn’t appreciate that you hurt his brother’s feeling.
Sighing you doubled back to the hangar. You could see him sitting in the cockpit, a pout on his lips as he stared into space. You walked quietly onto the ship, quiet enough that he didn’t look up as you walked up behind him.
“Is it okay if I join you?” You asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Wrecker glanced up, suddenly having his trademark smile on his face. “Mesh’la, I was just thinking about you.”
He pulled you down into his lap, his half-hard erection emphasizing his words.
“I came to apologize.” You smiled up at him.
He chuckled darkly, “I have a way you can make it up to me.”
You quirked an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this. His sudden change in attitude with your appearance had you wondering what he was thinking. Granted his smile was a welcome change.
“What did you have in mind handsome?” You asked.
Wrecker pulled you back against him, his cock hard against your ass. He kissed your neck, the other hand pulling your shirt up.
“You realize that anyone can walk into the hangar and see us?” You whispered, now wanting to admit that the thought went straight to your core.
He just hummed in response, his wandering hand moving up to your breasts, squeezing your breast none too gently. You gasped in response, grinding yourself against him.
“I’m going to test your patience sweet girl.” He growled low in your ear.
Your heart was in your throat. Wrecker was one of the most kind-hearted people you knew but since getting to know him a little more intimately you’d learned he wasn’t all soft and sweet. And since he learned you weren’t as fragile as you seemed, he’d enjoyed pushing your limits quite a bit.
“I was plenty patient during that mission mesh’la, considering I wanted nothing more than to lean you over the closest surface and fuck you.” His voice was a low grumble.
You whimpered in response, you could feel your slick soaking your panties.
“Look at you all quiet now, where’s my angry girl?” Wrecker asked as he nibbled on your ear.
Your face was uncomfortably flushed, your cunt was throbbing. Not thinking you moved your hand down to touch yourself through your blacks. Wrecker hooked his chin over your shoulder, watching your movements for a moment before putting his hand over your own.
“I haven’t even started yet cyare, are you sure I’m the impatient one?” His hot breath fanned down your neck before kissing your pulse point.
“Maybe not.” You murmured, leaning back allowing the hand up your shirt to pull it up over your head.
“No bra mesh’la? Naughty girl.” He chuckled, pulling his own shirt off before pulling your back against his chest.
Despite being together for so long you’d never get tired of feeling his muscle-bound body against yours. You could feel every movement against you as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning your arms to your sides, a hand dipping between your legs. His touch was teasingly light, kissing your bare shoulders before biting down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, sucking a bruise there.
You whimpered again, squirming in his lap, desperate for more friction.
Wrecker paused his actions. “Don’t draw too much attention to us cyare, you don’t want anyone to see us do you?”
Instead of responding you ground your ass against his cock earning a growl from him.
“Or maybe you do, naughty girl. You want one of my vod to see how riled up I get you? See how good I fuck you?” He bit another spot on your shoulder.
“Please Wrecker.” You whined.
“Pants off, now.” Wrecker all but pushed you off his lap roughly, pulling the waistband of his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.
You pulled your pants down, you’d just barely gotten it below your ass when Wrecker pull you back down onto his lap.
“Giving the rest of them a show mesh’la? Why not just walk the halls naked?” Wrecker growled, hand grabbing your thighs roughly, pulling them apart so that they were hooked over his own.
He pushed your shoulders forward so that your ass lifted off of his lap, with his other hand grabbing his cock and rubbing its head through your folds. You knew you were dripping already, his quiet moans indicating he was enjoying the sight. He pulled you down onto his cock, the thick length spreading you open.
“Take it cyare, such a good girl.” His voice was deep as he reached around you to wrap a hand around your neck just below your chin.
He filled you more than you’d ever been before, you couldn’t move without his cock pressing against a sensitive spot inside you. His free hand went down to your clit rubbing lazy circles. You moved your hips, wanting movement but he stopped you, the grip on your neck tightening and pulling you back roughly. When you swallowed you could feel the strength of his hold.
Again you started squirming, the full feeling of his cock inside you building tension especially as he applies more pressure to your clit. He again tightened his grip, this time pulling your head back to his shoulder.
“I can sit here buried in your pussy all day cyare. I don’t think you deserve to cum after the attitude you gave me on that mission.” His voice was low but you could detect a smirk from him before he kissed your cheek before tilting your mouth to press against his.
“Please Wrecker. I want to feel you cum inside me.” You begged.
“Nice try mesh’la.” He chuckled, fingers against your clit pressing against you roughly.
The building tension was threatening to snap, arched your back, pressing yourself into his hand desperate for release. Wet heat radiated from inside your cunt, you could feel your wetness dripped down his cock and thighs as pleasure shook your core.
“Look at that cyare, squirting everywhere making a mess. You like my fingers and cock that much?” He teased. “Let’s see if you can do that again.”
His hand returned to your clit, now even more tender than before. The crescendo of pleasure building quickly again still riding on the pleasure of your last orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whimpered a chant under your breath as you felt yourself tighten around his cock again.
“That a girl, let go.” He moaned, kissing your neck.
Your second orgasm was more intense than the first, your vision blurring as pleasure flooded your body with the snap. Wrecker’s hips thrust into you with a few shallow thrusts before he moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside you as he came.
You stood on shaky legs to lean against the control panel, needing to get away from the stimulation but unable to stand on your own.
“You okay mesh’la?” Wrecker asked, concern evident in his voice as he gently touched your thigh.
You laughed, trying to brush off his concern. “Yeah, that was just a lot.”
You could hear him shifting behind you, assumably pulling his pants back up.
“C’mere cyare, let me hold you.” He murmured, pulling you back onto his lap, gentler this time.
You snuggled against him, his warm body gone from rigid to soft and comforting. His arms wrapped around you, cradling you to his chest. You two stayed like that for a few moments before you dressed and both of you made your way back to your room before you both passed out in each other’s arms.
#tbb wrecker#wrecker x reader#tbb wrecker x reader#wrecker x you#tbb wrecker x you#bad batch imagine#bad batch smut
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How You Met The TR Boys
PC: Google! This hotheaded, yet oh so level headed boy, man oh man, could I tell you that this boy is literally in my top 3 for comfort characters.
Missed the last meetings? Catch Up Below:
Mitsuya Takashi
Ken 'Draken' Ryuguji
Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano
So after I finish up the main TR boys, I'll be doing some boys from the other gangs! So there will be some character spoilers but I will try to keep it manga spoiler free!
CW: Swearing (I honestly suck at this warning because its very rare for me to not curse for certain characters, so bare with me okay?) THIS ONE HAS A TEENY TINY SPOILER, BUT Y'ALL CAN SQUINT RIGHT PAST IT OKAY? Thank you 🥰
Keisuke Baji: He really is a sweet boy at heart, but his ferocious nature is a force to be reckoned with and we all know he isn't one to back down from a challenge. He definitely doesn't need to prove himself but that doesn't stop him.
“C‘mon don’t be pussies! It’s just a boxing place, it’ll help with those cheap shots you throw Chifuyu!” Baji teased, flashing his vampiric grin at his friend who playfully shoved his shoulder to the side. “Shut up.” Chifuyu mumbled as the rest of the TOMAN boys laughed in unison at the little interaction. Baji swung open the door wide, nearly shattering the glass against the adjacent wall “I have returned!” Baji hollered from the front door catching the attention of several existing boxers who only rolled their eyes at his ‘little’ entrance before returning to their original positions. “Yo! It’s the manic kid!” An older man yells to someone in the back away from the TOMAN boys view as they follow Baji, who was currently striding to the older man.
“Well, today is Friday. You said your best fighter would be here but I’m only seeing old news.” Baji declared, sliding his tongue across his teeth before letting it rest under one of his long fangs. “Vampy boy. You’re a cocky one huh?” A voice said behind the TOMAN boys causing them all to turn in the direction of the voice, only to reveal a girl who stood dead center, carefully wrapping the bandage around her knuckles. “Yeah, so what? I got all the reasons to be. Kicked everyone’s ass in here.” He stated, as he began moving away from the counter to stand directly in front of her, nearly towering over her frame. “Everyone? Sensei, you fought Vampy Boy?” She asked leaning to the side of Baji to look behind him as the older man chuckled while shaking his head. He slowly got up from his seat as he walked away from the counter.
“You wanted the best kid. Remember that. Those were your words.” He said as his final statement before disappearing into the locker room. Baji scoffed at the older man’s comment sizing the girl in front of him. “You’re the best? Damn, then I guess this place is perfect for you, Chifuyu.” Baji exclaimed as the girl chuckled softly “Which one of you is Chifuyu?” She asked leaning to the other side of Baji to look over at the TOMAN boys, carefully watching an embarrassed Chifuyu shyly raise his hand but his eyes remained glued to the ground. She smiled at the shy boy before moving away from Baji to stand before Chifuyu. “Let me ask you something, 2 or 5?” She asked as Chifuyu raised his gaze to look at her with a puzzled expression, but he was only met with a sweet smile displayed across her lips. “Um.. 2, I guess?” He replied hesitantly, shrugging his shoulders as she nodded, turning back to Baji.
“Alright, your friend has spoken. I’ll only use 2 moves to take you down.” She said watching Baji’s face crack into a wickedly wide smile, she was doing nothing more than fueling him up. He was always one for a competition, it was in his nature, he refused to turn back from any challenge presented to him “Baji. You can’t fight her, she’s a girl.” Mitsuya chimed in, almost breaking the tension that was growing in Baji. But her laugh severed that thought in Baji’s mind. “That’s fine. You don’t have to worry about that Baji. Unless, that’s your way of backing down. Don’t tell me you’re all fangs and no bite?” She teased feigning a sad pout, creeping closer to Baji as he laughed. “You wish, princess.” He mumbled as he prepared his fist at his sides. “You wanna do this here?” He asked, looking around surveying the space as she nodded, “I don’t need that much space.” She explained as he nodded, tying his hair into a tight slicked back ponytail.
Baji was always ready, it didn’t take him much convincing to beat someone, but she inspired a whole new flame within him, he didn’t just want to beat her, he wanted her to eat her words. He studied her stance, cautiously watching her feet and just as he was going to make the first move, she made quick work of her space, as she extended her arm almost as if she was going for a punch, faking the move as her frame lowered itself from his view. Crouching down, kicking her foot across the floor connecting her force with his ankles, catching him completely off guard. Baji stumbles back as she sits herself on his torso holding his arms above his head “That was cheap shit.” Baji snapped as she smirked, leaning further down until her lips were near his ear. “It was, but I don’t see you fighting me. What happened, Vampy Boy? Where was all that cocky shit you were talking about?” She whispered before moving away from his ear.
Baji chuckled slowly as he lifted his body upwards “Keep talking.” He taunted before turning his body under her hold, flipping their hands as he pulled her off and down onto the ground, with him now straddling her torso. “Tsk tsk tsk.” You think that weak shit is cute huh princess?” He asked against the shell of her ear, feeling a shiver run through her body under him. Once he had moved his face up from her ear to now look at her, Baji noticed exactly how close their faces were, and that’s when he noticed the faint scar that ran across her face, from her eyebrow to her lips, completely forgetting where they were for a split second he broke off the grip from their hands, causing a confused look to appear on her face as she tried to bring her hands down from above her head.
Even though Baji’s mind was focused on other things, he wasn’t going to let her be completely free. Using one of his hands to grip both of her wrists as he placed them back above her head allowing his other hand to carefully trace over the scar “What happened there?” He asked softly, his hardened eyes growing softer as he felt the depth of the scar, fighting back the urge to hiss at the rigid skin, he could only imagine the pain.
“Something horrible that made me the best fighter in here.” She snapped moving her face away, and just like that Baji knew he screwed up. His touch became somewhat toxic to her as she roughly broke one of her hands free using all her force from her hand and knee to push him off of her. Sending him back onto the floor, but not too far from where she was now sitting. “Nice match, Vampy Boy.” She commented before getting up from the floor and walking away from the TOMAN boys with such a haste as she unwrapped her hands, as Baji noted the shaking within them, he assumed it was just nerves from no longer being considered the best in the club, but unfortunately for him, he couldn't be any more wrong. “It’s Baji!” Baji called out taking account of her overall change in demeanor, she wasn't the same playful tease from when they first walked through the door. “Well then, nice match Baji!” She flagged him down before disappearing into the back.
“Her name’s (Y/L/N) (Y/N), by the way. Since you were so interested in her scar.” One of the patrons snapped at Baji as Smiley scoffed, as something clicked within him. “Her brother was killed by the Black Dragons.” Angry then followed up his brother's statement “They used her as bait to get her brother.”, the twins looked over at Baji who only nodded. “You know kid, you're honestly lucky you still have two legs. Last guy who mentioned that scar.. Well it didn't end so well for him.” The patron continued as a visible shiver ran down his spine, causing him to jump at the memory.
“Me and you (Y/N)! I want a real match!” Baji declared loudly, causing the girl to walk from the backroom, still clearly shaken up from earlier. “You know what? You’re fucking on Baji. No rules. No weapons. You want an early grave? Fine by me, who am I to stop you.” She declared her nearly cracking her composure in the process as Baji nodded. “I’ll be waiting. So don’t take too long training for me, ’kay princess?” He lightly teased, winking at her causing a small smile to appear on her face as she flipped him off before disappearing into the back once more “You know where to find me!” She finished as Baji nodded before turning towards the front door, this may have been their first meeting but it would definitely not be their last.
#tokyo revengers baji#baji keisuke#baji keisuke imagine#baji keisuke imagines#tokyo manji revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers imagines#tokyo revengers imagine
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