#y’all I’m ready to make this an entire au it’s so clear in my head
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based a lil on iron man 2 but not necessarily set during it (gif credits)
pepper is a busy woman, what with her running Stark Industries, so even with natasha helping as her assistant, there’s a lot of things that pepper needs help with to take the stress off
she tasks natasha with interviewing people, since natasha will be the one training them.
the ad didn’t explain a lot, just described it as a general assistant position for THE pepper potts, so you, fresh out of school and unsure what to do with your career decide why not?
a bit to your surprise, you pretty quickly get a message telling you to pick a time for an interview next week.
natasha is very polite, explaining that the position will be split between you assisting at the office and helping out with more domestic tasks at pepper’s home.
“i’ll be working alongside you too, so you don’t need to worry about your lack of experience. but as long as you can follow orders,” natasha explains with an unreadable glint in her eyes, “you’ll have absolutely no issues with the job.”
you’re already pretty convinced that this will be a good opportunity for you (especially given the fact that every other job you were in contact with has mysteriously stopped responding to you or suddenly told you the position has been filled since you got this interview…) but then natasha brings up pay.
all of your expenses: food, travel, pc, clothes, insurance, you name it. paid for. student debt? all stark industries employees get that paid off. rent? gone, either by it also being paid for, or eventually moving in with pepper (“stark industries requires around the clock work, so you could be called at any hour really. and with you already helping out at ms. potts’s home, it would certainly make things easier for you.”)
all that and still more spending money that you could’ve imagined, straight from pepper’s pocket.
you’d have to be stupid not to take it at this point.
so you become pepper’s assistant within the week, and finally meet the woman you’ll work for.
when pepper meets you, she startles you by jumping right to the question of, “do you know what you’ll be doing for me?”
“i figured things like coffee runs. sending emails. things like that.”
“That’s part of it. But I have at least twenty other people who can do those things for me. Your position is special.”
“Special?”
“Very special,” Pepper chuckles at your confused expression. “How much do you know about BDSM?”
your eyes widen, “i-I’m sorry i don’t understand-“
“Poor thing. I thought maybe Natasha would’ve hinted at things for you already. Or maybe she did, and you’re not quite the clever little girl she thought you were.” Pepper scribbles something on a sticky note (a reminder to have a talk with Natasha) and steps around her desk, tilting your chin up to meet her eyes. “I’m not going to beat around the bush or give you a riddle to work out. The assistance I need is a sweet little submissive who’s willing to answer my beck and call. It’s not wholly sexual, though that’s certainly a part of it. I would think Natasha at least detailed some of the domestic tasks you’d be doing?”
“Y-yes ma’am she did.”
“Good, good,” Pepper sighs and leans back against her desk. Your head swims as you try to imagine what other tasks the woman has in mind for you. “If you don’t want this, I’m going to wire you compensation for you time and for your silence on the matter. And I can have Natasha get in contact with other employers as well, if you wanted. But considering you haven’t immediately left to report this to HR - not that it would do you any good - I’d assume you’re at least curious.”
Maybe you’re just desperate. Desperate for the huge paycheck.
Or desperate for Pepper.
“When would I start?”
Pepper’s grin holds promise that ignites heat in your core.
“Today. Now, how about you strip so I can see what I’m working with.”
#pepper potts x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#c: pepper#c: natasha#silver writes#s: peppernat#y’all I’m ready to make this an entire au it’s so clear in my head#also I’m finding that when i like name my AUs i seem to be more committed w them soooo#any thoughts 👀#blurb#candy au
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bunnyhybrid!jeonghan x reader
genre: (eventual) smut, (a generous amount of?) angst, fluff, hybrid!au
warning/s: none for this chapter
word count: 1.1k
synopsis: Minghao impulsively adopts a hybrid for you and you hate him for it. But after getting to know your new hybrid, you realized it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. You’ve gained a new friend, a companion and… perhaps more?
a/n: waddup sweet peas. welcome, welcome! how’re we doing after the MV drop, album release and first comeback stage? it's been hours since then but i'm still not over it TT_TT hope y’alls are doing better than i am though lol also hope the first chap’s interesting enough for you to comeback! please leave some feedback if you could. my ask is always open <3
also, i based this whole story off this picture i found on twt but it’s buried somewhere in my camroll :’) i’ll rb if i find it lol
Chapter 1
“You need a companion!”
“No, I fucking don’t!”
You’re pissed, brows furrowed angrily, gripping your phone a little tighter than you should be. You just don’t fucking get it. You and your best friend were just catching up with each other, talking about random things, then he so casually says, “Oh, by the way, I got you a hybrid!”
A what? What the fuck has gotten into him? Why’d he make such a random decision? And without consulting you about it too!
“Well, I already adopted him under your name. You don’t have a choice!” You could only groan. “Gee, thanks a lot, best friend. So nice of you to make decisions for me.” Hao says your name in warning and you roll your eyes even if he can’t see, “I just-- Why would you do that? I literally killed the cactus you gave me a few months ago... How do you expect me to take care of a whole hybrid?!”
“You can, okay? This’ll be good for you!”
Good for you? You have no idea what he’s talking about. How the fuck is giving you more responsibility going to be good for you?
“Doubt it.”
“Just--”
Minghao pauses and sucks in a deep breath. He’s usually a very calm and level-headed person but you really do test his patience sometimes. Clearing his throat, he tries again in a softer voice, “Just start cleaning up now so your place will be ready for tomorrow, alright? We’ll probably get there just in time for lunch.”
You groan again and cross your arms over your chest, phone haphazardly placed between your shoulder and ear, “Whatever. I’m hanging up.” And you do, hearing him shout, “Clean!” into the receiver before you let your phone drop onto your couch.
Your head whips around your unruly living room, which is definitely not the only part of your apartment that is a total mess right now. No, you’re not a total slob. In fact, cleaning is one of the things you do to relieve stress. It’s just that you haven’t been feeling the best lately so your home has been neglected.
A sense of dread floods your system, urging you to heave a deep sigh.
Cleaning your entire place is one thing but your best friend’s little news for you is a completely different story, a completely different headache. Stupid Hao and his stupid attempt to help you feel better. You appreciate his concern for you, you really do, but you don’t understand the need to bring someone in your life so suddenly like this.
“You need a companion,” he said.
“It’ll be good for you,” he said.
Bullshit.
You hate him so much right now you can’t even begin to describe it! But still... you no longer have a choice. It’s not like you can turn the hybrid down and send him back to the shelter. You don’t have the heart to do that...
Defeated, you lift your butt off the couch, scanning the area once again as roll your sleeves up to your elbows and try to figure out where the fuck you were even going to start.
The next day, you wake up feeling grumpy and uneasy at the exact same time, the two clashing emotions creating an uncomfortable whirlpool inside of you. You’re still pissed at your best friend for randomly getting you a fucking hybrid (you don’t even know what kind yet) but you’re also nervous as fuck about actually meeting them.
Just the thought of sharing the same roof with a living being again makes your palms all sweaty. You’ve lived alone for so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have someone else around the house. Or more accurately, you’ve just been so used to being alone; period.
You barely talk or socialize with anyone unless it’s work-related or if it’s Minghao so you don’t quite know how you’re going to adjust to all this. “It’ll be fine! No big deal. You’ve had roommates before. It’s fine…” you mumble to yourself, looking at the mirror saying one thing but thinking another, wringing your hands.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Click.
“We’re here!” You let out a tiny yelp at Minghao’s volume. You can hear him lugging something heavy into your apartment, followed by a small thud of another something being dropped on your coffee table. “Shit! Okay, uhm...” Fidgeting with your clothes and hair one last time, you finally leave your bedroom.
“You can set that in the corner over the– Oh, hey!” Hao sends you a bright smile the moment he sees your head poking out the corner. He automatically opens his arms, meeting you halfway to give you a big hug.
You smile right back at him and wrap your arms around him tightly. You want to cry. You want to just stand there and never let your best friend go because as much as you hate to admit it, you missed him so, so much, way more than you expected.
After what you’ve been through a couple days back, his embrace meant the absolute world and you had no idea you needed it until this very moment. Everything you felt prior, the annoyance, the nerves and doubts, seemed to just evaporate into thin air.
“It’s so good to see you, Hao,” you mumble, eyes closing to savor his warmth and comfort. “You too, missy. I’m sorry I can’t visit often...” he mumbles back, hugging you a little tighter. There’s a few beats of silence between you but it’s filled with quiet affection and solace.
Gently, you pat his back and pull away, giving his arms a light squeeze as a way to silently assure him that it’s okay. He sighs, nodding before turning around, “Come over here, Han. Lemme introduce you to your new owner.”
Oh, right… You almost forgot what he’s actually here for.
You unconsciously gulp as you shift your eyes to look at the figure by the door, your new hybrid companion offering you a timid smile the moment your eyes lock. He takes a few steps closer, a box of his belongings in arms. You try to reciprocate his smile but you’re too in your head to actually do it, a whole epiphany unfolding before you.
He’s literally just... a guy with some physical features of his animal counterpart, some dude with floppy bunny ears slack against his head. His bright yet naturally droopy eyes stare into yours, dancing at the sight of you.
“This is Jeonghan, your new bunny hybrid!”
You can’t exactly see it but his tail raises happily behind him at the introduction. “Hi,” he murmurs, giving you a small wave with his adorable sweater paw. You’re not processing much right now but one thing’s for sure: he’s fucking adorable. You actually want to squeal.
He walks further into your home and sets the box he’s holding to the side while you pull yourself together enough to dumbly stutter out your name. He repeats in a soft voice, nn angelic smile tugging on his face.
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#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#seventeen#svt#jeonghan imagines#seventeen imagines#jeonghan drabble#seventeen drabble#miracle-bunny
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Yearn for You | jjk (m)
◊ Pairing: vice president and boyfriend!jungkook x secretary and girlfriend!reader x ceo!jimin ft. co-founder!taehyung
◊ Genre: fluff and smut / established relationship / office au
◊ Rating: 18+ / nsfw
◊ Word Count: 31.5k (honestly another whopper but are we surprised?)
◊ Summary: As a secretary, it is not proper to engage in intimate affairs with your superior, who is the one you are meant to be at their beck and call for in the business world. The world, however, means very little to Jungkook, the vice president of Bangtan Industries and more importantly, your boss and boyfriend of three years. In all that time, he has never cared for hiding your passionate affections for one another and tonight will be no different after a particularly amusing day of teasing you and watching you fall prey to your desires for him that he revels in amidst his fervid love for you. In that love that has shifted his entire globe in how completely and wholly he has fallen for you, he will do anything to make you, his beloved girlfriend, happy. So, after some efforts to toy with you, he allows you to have some playtime with a very special friend whilst he delights himself in your entertaining little game.
◊ Warnings: hard dom!jungkook, possessive/jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, sub!jimin, lots of dirty talk, pet names, lots and lots of teasing, praise, fingering, grinding, thigh riding, phone sex (taehyung listens in on the threesome), masturbation (male and female), cunnilingus/oral sex, unprotected sex (reader has birth control implant in her arm and Koo hates condoms lbr), breast/nipple play, biting (there’s a bunch), marking through hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, anal sex, double penetration (this is a jikook threesome with reader y’all), cock riding, cock warming, begging, muscle kink, scratching, light choking, cum feeding/eating, manhandling, pinning down, multiple orgasms, wet and messy sex, degradation kink (koo calls you a slut/whore for him only like two or three times each), orgasm control, orgasm denial, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, daddy kink, reader goes into subspace for a little bit, mild bdsm, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex and aftercare (from jungkook)
◊ A/N: Gosh, this one is finally here after two weeks! This fic is not like anything I have ever written before, but I know that there will be people out there that like this! It’s very hot if I do say so myself and it was such a joy to write in my lust-filled craze that I’ve been inflicted with in the wake of D’ICON Jungkook (even though that particular look is not part of this fic lmao). I blame Jungkook’s overwhelming sexiness that always has me ready to drop to my knees for this fic because honestly it’s all his fault.
Oh, and I know some of my readers have been waiting for COC, but because I have been tight on money, I decided to write this as a commission for the wonderful @jeonsjiddies. I hope you like it, babe! Oh, and that lovely banner you see above? That is courtesy of the fantastic @nightshadevinter. I thank the both of you for your continued support of my work and do hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I was entertained by writing it.
As always, guys, please let me hear your thoughts on my work! There’s nothing that is more gratifying as an author than to get feedback on what you spent so much of your time creating! Finally, if Tumblr is crashing because the fic is so long, you can find the AO3 link right here !
The day’s hours wane amidst the sun that sets behind you as you watch the last of your coworkers slip through the elevator doors of the twenty-story building, your heels clicking against the marbled tiling of the highest floor in the corporate property belonging to Bangtan Industries, the most well-known architectural firm in the industry.
In one hand you have papers fresh out of the printer, your eyes trained on the small font that outlines the topics of discussion and areas of interest for tomorrow’s meeting as you skim through them. As the secretary of both the vice president and the CEO of the company, you had always been the mediator of their affairs, which meant that you never had a moment of rest while at the office.
Because your charge was attending to the ever incessant happenings between your bosses as the two most high-ranking individuals in the company, you never had a moment of respite (not that you minded). The constant hustle and hullabaloo that was dealt in their wake left you in an ever flowing state of motion and you liked the grind. It meant you never were bored by their occupancies at work, for they always ensured that you had something to busy yourself with.
The fact that your CEO looked to have been brought to life by an artist’s brush in his beauty while your vice president (and consequently, your boyfriend after some years together) appeared to have been sculpted by the gods in his handsomeness surely was a bonus, however, for whenever your sight would begin to blur because of long hours spent drafting and writing across your computer screen, a simple glimpse at either of them had your visage instantly clearing in the clarity of attraction that perceived itself between your legs when they’d stare back at you in stolen moments of passing.
As you scavenge the paperwork for any errs that you may have missed, you don’t notice the silhouette the crosses the cubicles hedging the floor as you navigate through the maze of them, your irises narrowing as you huff in the realization that you forgot to properly align the addendum toward the end of the files in your hurry to finish and be out of the office after six o’clock per the orders of your CEO.
When you cross the threshold to your office, the walls of glass that are curtained with silvery gold silk are opened to allow the sun to bathe you in its comforting heat that settles warmly over your stiff bones as you drop the paperwork atop your desk and rest your hand on it as you let your eyelids fall over your irises with the sun that coaxes you to luxuriate in its golden rays in a momentary lapse of silent solace from the toils of the day’s efforts.
Behind you, a shadow cloaks you before a deep, low-timbre voice swathes you in its hold as it teases, “Enjoying the afternoon sun, baby? You should really head on home right about now, hmm? It’s getting late,” his eyes trail down your back and drop to the swell of your ass that strains against the small, short pencil skirt it is pushed up against before he continues, “We wouldn’t want the boss to get mad because you broke rules and stayed past six o’clock, now would we?”
“Vice President Jungkook,” you squeak, his voice stringing you up and twining you around the fingers that-after many years of dreaming about them- now touch you in your most intimate sectors of your body in his unceasing relentlessness of rapturous intent that drive him to find himself between your legs every night, morning and afternoon that he could entertain. You had once wondered how a man could possibly rival an incubus in how he seemed to thrive with the more that you gave him and before him, you’d been abstinent as a nun. He had quickly changed that once you’d succumbed to his dark promises that had been wrapped in sin’s lace as he’d covered you with them with a tongue too long to be anything but devilish. It’s been years since you first got together, but he still renders you to be in need of an exorcist in the spirit of sex that has possessed your soul in its binding to him.
You put a hand to your chest in startlement before you turn to face him to go on, “I didn’t hear you come in. Is there something you wanted to discuss? I just was going to finish up Jimin’s,” you clear your throat under his constricting gaze that constringes you for a battle of air as you correct yourself, “the CEO’s itinerary for Wednesday after fixing up the topic outline for tomorrow’s meeting with the board of directors.”
It was amazing how after several years together, he could still whisk your breath away from you with one glance.
Your superior hums, “Mmm, busy girl as always, aren’t you?” He takes a step inside your office, the sun’s light beams a stark contrast to the dark suit he wears that is colored black like the night sky, the silvery stitching in thin lines along his coat shining like streaks of falling stars in the movement as he suavely exhorts, “Did you happen to have time to send to me my travel arrangements for the week? Make sure you clear time for yourself to attend the gala with me on Thursday. I meant to tell you that earlier when you were feeding me my lunch in my office,” he confides lowly as two hands grip the edge of the chair that sits in front of your desk while he carries on, “Thank you for that, by the way. My hand was so sore from constructing the miniature model of the new tower we are building. I’m so glad you were there to assist me in erecting it and that you could sate my hunger earlier today. I was ravenous, you see.”
Your cheeks flame in remembrance of the way his deft, long tongue had wrapped around the fork you’d presented to him, the creamy alfredo sauce coating his pink lips suspiciously similar to the cum he’d expertly and easily draw out of you every time he ravaged you or the essence you’d taint yourself with during the forbidden hours of the night when you touched yourself to fantasies of him in the midst of his absence due to the longer hours that he was required to work at the firm.
You’d never heard anyone groan from ‘the succulent taste of the meal’ as your vice president had, but you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy every delicious sound that had dripped from his mouth as he’d opened his lips to welcome you when you’d draped the noodles across his tongue.
Needless to say that after that particular encounter, you’d had to escape to the bathroom for about twenty minutes to relieve the ache between your thighs that had garnished and cooked your insides for him until you burned with the need to release the steam that wouldn’t escape you without his guiding hand.
In all of that, you’d been entirely oblivious to the two sets of eyes that had been fixated on you while they watched you with utter absorption. With the visage of your cheeks that had reddened from the blood that had rushed to them and the slow, uneven walk you’d taken back to your office amidst your thighs that stung from your efforts, it had been all too apparent that you hadn’t really gone to use the restroom for the purpose it was intended to be used for.
Jungkook himself had smirked at that and when his irises had switched away from you and to his own boss, the CEO, whom had his own workspace directly next to his own, Jimin’s teeth had gnawed on his lower lip until you disappeared behind the curtains of your office before resuming with the Skype conference with one of the company’s chairmen.
With your head full of your illicit indecency that the man standing in front of you now had caused earlier, you try to fight past the fluttery feeling in your chest as you splutter, “U-um, well, it was no problem at all!” You croak as one of his brows lift in amusement as you fidget under his all-encompassing stare to blurt, “Always a, uh, pleasure helping you, Jungkook.”
Truly, you don’t know how you managed to acquire a degree in English with how eloquence seems to suddenly be a foreign concept to your mind, but your vice president seems to be wholly unbothered and oppositely entertained by it as one side of his lips lift while he cocks his head to the side to divulge, “A pleasure indeed, Y/N,” his voice dips as he comes ever closer to you, his palms now splaying over your desk as his long, iron colored tie swings forward to dangerously dangle close to your own hand that twitches in the want to grasp it and pull him forward until his lips have nowhere to go but on your own as he urges, “You always take care of me so well. I want to return the favor to you, but I just,” his irises lower from your eyes to your mouth as you draw your lip between your teeth and when they rise back up once more, he professes, “can’t put my finger,” he drums his index and middle fingers along the timber of your desk, “on how I want to repay the favor.”
Memories of last night filter through your mind like an echoing song as they tune your brain to the way he’d pummeled into you, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he’d ravished you after you’d begged him to let you ride his face and you’d dared to sit back and grab his cock in the midst of his attentions to your pussy. You’d screamed through the delicious pleasure that was too much to bear and he’d been more than eager to leave you a mess of limbs and cum on the bed in his wake as he’d fucked you so crazedly, his efforts guided by the need to see you ruined with his seed a success in how mercilessly he’d given it to you and how greedy you’d been to take it all.
Heat floods your core at the anything but holy thoughts, for your boyfriend surely became a demon in bed that you would gladly fall to your knees to be taken by over and over again.
“You,” you swallow past the lump in your throat and have to remind yourself to keep your legs locked together lest you succumb to the urge to rub them against each other as you give a choked answer, “you don’t have to do anything. My salary is payment enough.”
“Oh, but is it? Is there nothing else I could give you to show you how much I appreciate you?” He looms closer, his raven’s wing hued hair kissing at the tips of his cheeks while tenderly embracing the sides of his forehead amidst the hands of oils that part it down the middle and slick it in their essence as he inquires, “Is there not some kind of bonus that you desire? Say it and it is yours, my beloved secretary. After all,” his eyes glint tellingly, “you’ve always been such a good girl for me. I want to reward you, beautiful. Will you let me?”
“Jungkook,” your cheeks heat up as you whimper, “Please.”
You try not to think about the implications of what your response might lead one to believe, but under his heady gaze, there’s little you can do but let your words tumble from your mouth.
He’s called you beautiful a number of times whilst in the presence of other clients and coworkers and each time, your heart had done a flip against your ribcage. The fifth month after he’d become your boyfriend, you’d once questioned him why he called you that and he’d simply shrugged his shoulders before offering, “I should think you would know, pretty girl. It’s because I find you attractive.”
You’d gone home that night after he’d vowed to bring you your favorite takeout food to make up for having to stay longer at the firm and you’d hugged him with the dumbest smile stretching across your features before turning to leave while he’d smiled fondly at you as you’d skipped like a lovestruck teenager all the way back to your apartment and wondered all night long what he might have been doing while you’d put on your favorite k-drama and bundled yourself up in blankets for your nightly binge of the show, your thoughts void of anything and everything that was not Jungkook in your straying attention from your tv session that was entirely your boyfriend’s fault.
When he’d come home to you that night, he’d made sure you victualed atop his lap while you’d fidgeted with an ulterior motive leading your body, your moans of enjoyment for the soup he spooned to you all too loud and drawn out amidst your purposeful movements that had been quick to have him hardening beneath you and before you’d known what had happened, he’d thrown you atop the table and fucked you well into the morning hours.
Now, in the silence that has seeped through the office in the lack of occupancy that is limited only to you and your two bosses, the word has an entirely sinful meaning in the deepness he’s pillaged it with.
When he darkly chuckles, mischievousness and everything that promises lasciviousness colors the sound as he pushes off your desk and stalks damningly closer to you, his much taller frame engulfing your own as he hovers before you to lowly inquire, “What do you want, beautiful? Say it,” he steers himself around the desk until he stands in front of you, anticipation welling up within you as he wraps one arm around you until one palm is pressed against the small of your back and in one fluid motion, he streams your body against his, your breasts cascading along his chest as you suck in a breath at the rocky plane of muscle laid over him even through layers of clothing, your hands-as if siphoned forth to him-planting themselves along his pectorals as he utters, “Tell your boss how bad you want it.”
“Vice President,” your breath hitches when another hand boldly finds purchase along your ass before it slides down to cup your thigh as he pulls your leg up and around him so that it is wrapped around his slim, hourglass waist as you fight the mists of lust that cloud your abdomen as you try, “we c-can’t. This isn’t…it’s not proper.”
“Do you think I give a damn about niceties when you’re fucking tempting me with how short that little skirt that barely covers your ass is?” He growls as he ducks his head, his lips ghosting along the sensitive junction just under your ear as the hand on your thigh trails upward, his digits just grazing your panties as you shakily sigh out while his other hand dives under your blouse before he husks, “Do you think it is proper to go in the bathroom and fuck yourself with your fingers after you fucking fed me with them? Huh?”
“You were watching me, vice president?” You gulp at the realization that he knew, “I thought I had been discreet…”
“Such a dirty little girl,” he muses as the fingers he’s snuck under your V-necked linen shirt run along your skin in languid circles before he blows a puff of warm air against your neck, your skin prickling in his wake as he noses at your jaw, “Did you honestly think that when you went to the ladies room for twenty fucking minutes that I timed on my watch that I didn’t know what you were doing?” His lips brush against the column of your neck as you let your head fall back in silent offering to him as he goes on, “Did you honestly believe that when you walked out of there and wafted the smell of sex across the office that I couldn’t fucking tell what you were doing in there as you fucked yourself while you thought about me?”
Caught as you are in his hold, you cannot escape the mortification that drops like an anchor to your shoulders and then down through the bowels of your body in its infinite heaviness at the realization that he’s got you red-handed. Embarrassment is what has your lids closing in your inability to see the source of your lust swim in the knowledge of the waters of your sins that streamed from him.
Despite it all, his digits draggle along your southward lips as he rubs them against your pussy, your walls clenching around nothing as he groans at the wetness that begins to coat your panties as he coos, “Fuck, you’re so naughty, babygirl. Look at that pretty cunt cry for me because it’s been neglected without the only one that really satisfies it,” his finger pulls the ruined cloth away from you and suddenly the hand that had been exploring the ridges of your spine dips in its exploration to pool around your hip and with a dangerous flash of his eyes, he pulls you down over a semi-hardening bulge between his legs, a moan slipping from your lips as he impels you against his member to grunt, “You like this, baby? Does it turn you on to know that I’m aware that you got off to me in the bathroom? Would’ve been so fucking hot to see you get fucked with your fingers, baby. God, it’s making me hard just thinking about it.”
His dirty words soil you in as he covers you with them just as tangibly as you’d been spoiled by your own juices, your brain short circuiting in the jolts of heat he wracks you with as his touch thunders over your skin that begins dewing with the beads of sweat in the high temperature that he flusters you with.
From the very first time you’d seen him years ago in the shabby little bar where time had seemed to stop as you’d locked eyes with him while he passed you by, you had been under his spell and now, as he holds you to him with desire simmering in his gaze, you’re struck with that sensation of beating wings in your chest as you let him finally lay his lips over the junction of skin along your collarbone, the pillow of his lips bedding themselves over you lightly as the fingers of one of your hands curl inward into his shirt in your effort to hold onto something to ground yourself against the lightness lifting at your insides as you manage the only word that your mind can possibly internalize in the midst of your fading cognition with a whisper, “Jungkook.”
Your vice president smirks against your skin as he bedecks you in his osculation. Saliva is left in his aftermath as featherlight kisses are flitted along your collarbone and when the hand on your waist pushes you down onto him to urge your hips into moving, you whine as he combines this with the stroke of his fingers at your steadily swelling bud of nerves that gardens the flower of your pussy.
“Answer to me, beautiful,” he brings you both back until his back hits the glass wall, his hips instantly rolling into yours as he coaxes your other leg to join your other around his waist before he flicks a long, hot tongue along your mastoid that cords your neck as he declares, “If you want me to fuck you like I know you’ve been craving for me to,” he mouths against you, “Tell me how much you fucking want me, beautiful. Let me hear how badly you need me to take you because you can’t possibly be pleased by anyone else, pretty girl.”
Heat swirls in your belly as he lazily draws shapes into your clit, his member hardening impossibly more for you when you grind yourself against him while you wrap both arms around him to brace yourself as you hump him like an animal in rut, the hand he’d had on your hip quickly cupping your ass to hold you up while he stares hotly at you.
Knowing that you will face punishment in the bedroom later if you do not do as he asks, you try to wrack your brain for the string of words that you need to scramble out of their jumblement amidst the need that throws them into a whirl as you breathe, “Want you, Jungkook. I want you so badly. Please, let me-“
“Oh, but do you think you deserve it, Y/N? Do you believe you should be allowed to have my cock when you denied me for so long today?” He taunts, his teeth taking your earlobe between them as he continues, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to put my cock inside that little cunt of yours? How many times I thought about bending you over this damned table and fucking you into oblivion?” You gasp in the risqué admission as he sweeps you over him, his wrist disentangling from your clit to pull your skirt up so that he has no obstructions while he shamelessly ogles your dripping cunt before you lower yourself down on him to earn a cautionary hiss from him, “Watch it, beautiful. If you can’t control yourself, I’ll take you right fucking here in the middle of your office. If I can wait all day to finally have the chance to fuck you again after you denied me, so can you.”
"Why did you, ah-" he slots one thick thigh under you, a cocksure grin spreading over his features as he helps you thrust yourself over the thatch of muscles lining every inch of his leg, your voice cracking when both hands clutch your ass as he pulls you down and over him to brokenly whisper, "Why did you take all day to finally fuck me, sir-" your lips are suddenly captured in a heated kiss, his mouth roughly claiming yours as your head falls back while he flicks his tongue along the roof of your mouth to claim every bit of you before he pulls away to leave you heaving as you try again- "I-I wanted you to come to me earlier when I was in the b-bathroom,” your breaths are labored from the air he’s thieved from you to leave only your wanton admission, “wanted you to give me your cock and t-take me against the wall while I begged you to let me have your cum inside me...”
"Such a little slut for me, aren’t you? You didn’t have enough cock this morning when I stuffed it between your hungry little lips and fucked your face? You know," he groans when one of your hands slides down his defined chest as you drag it to its destination before settling over the fully hardened member as you gyrate your hips atop him, " I taught you that when you want something, you ask, yeah? Could’ve had what you needed if you’d just been obedient and used that fucking mouth to request a good fuck, but instead, I had to use my fucking hand to imagine it was your pretty little cunt that my cock was in," you whimper at his confession, your fingers curling over his member as you swirl your hips up and down his leg in a frenzy, your core heating like a wildfire when his eyes darkly flash, " You're going to suffer as I did, pretty girl. You're going to feel how fucking desperate you made me while I jacked off to pictures and videos I recorded of you when you were innocently batting your eyes at me from all the way over here while I was in my office with my hand on my cock."
“Jungkook,” you whine, “I don’t know if I can take that. Not agai-“
"Oh, but you will, baby. You will do what I say because I'm the fucking boss, yeah?" One hand gropingly lifts from your ass to grasp at a bra-clad tit, a whimper falling from your lips when he squeezes hard and with his other hand, his fingers sink into your side as he pivots your waist down on his thigh, his muscles jumping at you and catching at your core as he urges you over him and in response, your fingers constrict around him to earn a hiss, "God, it was too easy to make you fall apart on me. Come on, baby," he challenges as he takes your lip between his teeth to nip at you, "Show me what you've got, yeah? Fuck yourself on me. You have sixty-nine seconds to finish before I pull you off me and go back to my office."
With his demand, you’ve no choice but to obey and instantly, you bear your hips down on him with renewed fervor, the firm and solid thew tautening beneath you as clamp him between your legs while you sway yourself back and forth like a seesaw, a moan stuttering from you when he pushes aside your shirt to grip one breast in his hand, his digits expertly rolling your nipple between them as you teeter precariously atop him, your waist stammering amidst his ministrations when slams his mouth against yours once more, his tongue thrusting inside your warmth as he captures you under his osculation and possessively wraps his wet muscle around yours as he steals your breath away.
When he pulls away, you chase him with growing hunger that latches itself to you, your mouth connecting to his in a softer kiss as you kittenishly lick at him while he kneads at your breast.
Your core clenches around nothing when he pairs this with a harsh propulsion of his thigh into your cunt as his sinewy skin slides deliciously along your clothed cunt, the tingling friction finding every inch of your pussy as you avidly grind against him.
You compress your fingers over his rock hard cock that has your salivary glands producing excess spittle in want of him and when you dare to start rubbing him there while you busily buss his jawline that you think might cut you in its sharpness if you aren’t careful, that’s when he growls out, “God, you’re such a fucking minx,” he angles his head back to welcome your lips against him, “Time’s ticking, princess. You have ten seconds.”
“Jungkook, please, I…I’m almost there,” you cry out, “Please don’t leave me,” you blurt as you bounce on his thigh rapaciously while you fervidly litter his neck with the stains of your crimson lipstick, “I’ll do anything,” you beg as he smirks while he watches you with interest, “I’ll let you do anything you want to me later, just…please, let me cum. I’ve thought about this all day long, thought about you fucking me all day long,” you blabber as your pride is burned away by his searing gaze while he pushes his thigh impossibly deeper into you as you whine out, “let me finish, sir.”
Perhaps it the fact that your boyfriend is quite honestly the hottest man you’ve ever seen walk the earth (really, how could you ever be satisfied with anyone else when your boss and boyfriend is a literal incarnate of sin and sex) or maybe it is because he’d edged you this morning in the shower, for his much longer and larger fingers had played with you like you were his favorite toy and that had you quickly winding up around him. Despite your cries, he’d not let you come after disobeying his orders to speak after he’d all but fucked your brains out following round four of your sexual escapades with each other on the kitchen table, the couch and the wall and then the bed. Maybe it is both of those, but you've never been so quick to rile up and Jungkook, the one who has his strings attached to you like you’re his damned puppet, well… it is easy for you to see why you are at the edge of the precipice he dangles you over with his strong threads.
He observes with amusement the way that you work yourself avariciously over him, your lips insistent in lavishing him with your attentions as you line his throat with the red coloring you’d put on your mouth until he’s decorated with it like a painting you’d artfully drawn yourself. He lets the seconds pass beyond what he’d told you, delight lighting at his eyes as he sees the relief wash through yours in the slow surety that streams in your irises beside it in your thoughts that he’s going to allow you to find your end.
It’s when your thighs begin tremble from the labors of your efforts and a low pant starts to push itself between your lips as you undulate yourself against him that the large hand on your breast twirls your nipple between deft fingers, fire flaring through your core as you moan out his name.
“That’s it, baby. Say it louder for me,” he groans as he bucks his hips against you, a devious glint in his eye gleaming at you that only has you burning hotter for him as he husks, “Let Jimin know who you’re fucking yourself like a dirty little girl on.”
Your end is near and you’re so close to plummeting into your end, but he holds you from it and refuses to let you fall into it. Not yet, anyway.
“Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”
Your boss hums, “Mmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He pinches your nipple only to cause you to squirm, the slight pain shooting sparks down to your pussy that clenches for him. He growls at this, for the flutter of your southward lips against his thigh has his cock throb beneath your fingers that still stroke him and suddenly, his hand is gone from your tit and instead finds its place in your hair that he clutches and yanks you forward with so that your chest is pressed flush against his front as his eyes flash darkly and he hisses, “Too bad, baby. I let you fucking use me so I could see how desperate I could make you while you tried to get yourself off. Now that I have you,” he torturously extricates his thigh from between yours and you all but sob at the loss of him as he sets you down on the floor, the hand in your hair wrenching forward until he crashes his lips to yours and sucks your tongue between his teeth as if he wants to devour you and all the while, the hand on your hip sidles down and, while he’s got your eyes falling closed, they shoot open as you moan into his mouth when he cups your sex, his middle finger prodding your hole and when he pulls them both away, carnality dilates his pupils as he declares, “I’m going to make you my fucking whore.”
Air evades you, but the fire lighting up in your core sustains the need for him as you attach your hands to his shirt to hold on for dear life in the midst of your weakened, feeble knees that have lost their strength in how much of it he’s sapped from you in your kisses. You shakily exhale what little of it remains as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, your shyness starting to return now that the haze of hormones clouding your brain is gradually rescinding in the lack of his touch.
Breathlessly, you whimper, “Need you now, Jungkook. Please-“
You’re effectively silenced when he presses his pointer finger to your lips to quiet you, your labored suspirations wrapping warmly around his digit as he croons, “Shhh…I know, babygirl. I’m so fucking hard for you right now,” his fingers enclose your wrist to coax you to put more pressure on his member and you do, your eyes fixing on how much smaller your hand is compared to his own as you urges you to run your hand back and forth over him as he groans, “Feel that? That’s all for you, baby. God, that little mouth felt like heaven around me this morning. Did I tell you that? Did I mention how beautiful you looked with tears falling from those pretty eyes? Fuck, you were so cute with spit dripping from those lips while you sucked me off like a needy little slut.”
You choke a strangled sound out at that while you burrow your face deeper into his neck as if to escape from the filth he wants to dirty you with, but you don’t get too far with the way that his finger taps expectantly on your lip as he prods at you and you need no further instruction than that as you tentatively open your mouth to welcome the digit he promptly slides in as he praises, “There you go, babygirl. Such a good girl even when I deny you your orgasm. You know you deserve to have it withheld from you, don’t you?”
You lick at his finger in answer as you breathe, “Yes, sir. I’ve been bad to you today, haven’t I? I’m sorry,” you try a new tactic in effort to release some tension that has coiled into a knot deep in your belly as you whisper, “Will you let me make it up to you, handsome? Want your big, fat cock inside me so badly…”
You let your words be swallowed within your mouth as you close it around him only to suction your wet warmth around his digit, a grunt quick to release itself from him as his pupils blow wide at the sinful sight of his finger disappearing into your mouth. His mouth parts at the lewd sounds that escape your mouth as you take him inside you, your tongue flicking against him with precision as you lock your eyes on his and in them he sees the kindling of desire that smokes and hazes them over.
“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he watches as you innocently blink at him with your head still nestled onto his shoulder and when you swallow around him, that has him twitching under your hand that continues to palm at him, his fingers tightening around your wrist as he husks, “Are you that fucking gone for me? Shit, baby. If that’s how you are with just my finger, imagine how you’ll be with my fucking cock shoved in your pretty pussy.”
“Want it,” you mumble around his finger as you lave at his digit,” want you so much. Please, Jungkook, take me.”
“So desperate for me. Just how I like you, babygirl. If you want me that bad,” he pries his finger from your mouth, both of you watching the string of spittle that follows him before breaking off and only then does he lean forward, his lips just shy of touching yours as he commands, “Come to me in five minutes. I need to have a quick word with one of the representatives of the company for funding and then I’ll have the rest of the night to fucking ravage you, yeah?” He pushes off the window while he drags your hand away from him and you can’t deny the cold that is left in his absence when he moves away from you and you pout because of it while tucks your skirt back down.
He grins at the way your knees buckle and, responsively, he helps you to sit down. One tattooed hand finds its place on your hip while the other splays possessively over your abdomen as he walks you backward and once he’s got you sitting, you catch the way his hands linger as if he doesn’t want to let you go, but with an imploring look you tell him more than your words would convey as you place one of your own hands over his while you urge him to stay with a small squeeze of your fingers over his.
He’s utterly gone for the way you adorably purse your lips as if to plead with him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boss that you whine as he pulls away to chuckle to himself while he strides away from you. In his absence, your pussy yearns for him as it deposits even more of your taint into your ruined panties in his tormenting separation from you.
By now, he’s at your door and before he disappears, he turns with his back still facing you to add, “Oh, and one more thing,” his irises dip down as he gestures to a dampened, wet patch on his pant leg where you’d been sat atop of earlier before he peers back up at you with a hooded gaze, “If I find out you finished yourself off in here without me,” his voice becomes brusque as he deepens it,” The only thing that cunt will have jammed in it for the next few months will be the vibrator you brought to work last week.”
“How did you,” you clear your throat amidst the clog that has clumped itself in a ball within the middle of it,” you heard about that? You saw that?”
“I’ve heard the whispers that all the women believe they are too quiet for me to detect, but you,” He flicks a sculpted brow up as embarrassment mutes you, your cheeks coloring themselves red as the remnants of lipstick that still remain on your mouth as he pokes his tongue against his cheek in a sight that has you instantly wanting to get on your knees once more for him as he says, “you’re such a slave to your desire for me that you just can’t keep that little mouth shut, that you just can’t help but to tend to that needy little cunt because of me,” his eyes scintillate with sin, “you thought I didn’t notice you take that vibrator to the supply closet with you after I had you massage my thighs that you like to tell the other women that you love so much, but I did, baby,” he watches you rub your thighs together, a pained sound resounding from your lips as he finishes, “You put on such a show for me on the camera I have installed in there. God, you have no idea how bad I wanted to fuck you senseless while you tried to stop yourself from calling my name.”
Your jaw just about drops at his admission, mortification causing you to wrap your arms around yourself as if that will make you smaller against the very large realization that he knew of your feral treachery and with a devastating grin, he leaves you a heaping wet mess on your chair as you try to figure out how one man could be responsible for turning you into a human succubus that needed sex with him as much as you needed air to breathe for your body.
In the silence that follows your boyfriend and boss, all that can be heard are the perpetually unrelenting ticks of a small wooden clock atop your desk. They chink to the uneven beats of your heart that pounds against your chest as you clutch at it to count the breaths that elude your contracting lungs against the tethers that Jungkook himself had put there.
Trying to focus now would be like attempting to look away from your boyfriend while he’s stark naked and lounging on the living room recliner in readied receival of you after being away from him for the three-week long and very lonely secretarial seminar that Jimin sends you to every now and then to keep you sharp in your duties that you were expected to carry out as the unofficial manager of both the CEO and Vice President of Bangtan Industries.
It just doesn’t compute in your mind that has gone haywire in the wake of Jungkook that you can do anything but to keep your attention fixated on the little circular face of the clock, its spindly hands moving far too slow for your liking as you try not to think too much on the teardrops your sex cries in its grief of losing him. When you make the mistake of shifting and sibilate at how drenched you really are in the movement, you look away at your soaked skirt to find it ruined where your sex sits, a groan coming from you as you battle the urge to just bring one or two fingers to your clit to water the fire of need burning there.
“Jungkook,” you whisper to no one in particular, “You fucking win.”
Heat still washes you through in the fluidity and you clench your hands into fists atop the table as the waves of it try to ebb your hand down to relieve you of the need that swelters within your core and you are quick to lay your forehead against the desk in need of a colder landscape to battle the Sahara desert’s scorch that has manifested itself in your belly.
“That’s what I thought, doll. Better not touch yourself, baby,” the familiar voice of your boyfriend chimes through the multiline phone system sat next to your computer, your eyes widening as your back straightens and you sit up with widened eyes, your hand quickly jerking away from your womanhood as you stare surprisedly at the red blinking button that signifies that presently, you are being recorded. He must have turned it on when he’d been sitting you down and, like a siren, you’d been entirely lulled by his distraction.
“Jungkook, I-“
“You don’t get to make excuses when I heard you fucking moan with how badly you must want to use your fingers to relieve yourself of me. It’s hard, isn’t, baby?” You can see the shit-eating smirk he gives you even from the other end of the line as he sonorously says, “I would advise that you don’t try anything without me, love. Because if you do,” his voice hardens,” I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.”
“Need you,” you whine as you push your breasts against the wood in effort to stimulate yourself elsewhere as you try, “Please, sir, let me touch myself. I can’t take it without you.”
“Oh, but you must, pretty girl,” he voice dips deliciously, “If you put so much as one finger on that little clit of yours,” he threatens, “I promise you’ll get none of this cock for a long time. I am a patient creature, beautiful, but you? You are not and I’m going to teach you what happens when you want to get me hard while I’m at work, you fucking vixen.”
“But…” you don’t get to say much else because he’s fast to cut you off.
“But? There are no buts, babygirl. Sit there and obey like a good girl. Got it?” His domineering tone captures you in its hold as you grimace in the banishment of sensation you’d been trying to quell with the aridity searing your core.
He expertly extricates your own voice as you submissively tell him, “I understand, sir. I’m…I’m sorry I’m so needy.”
“That’s more like it, pretty girl. Be daddy’s good girl, yeah? He’s almost finished and when he’s done,” he lowly admits,” he’s going to fuck you until you can’t tell the north from the south.”
With that, the red button loses its light and fades with the end of the call and you don’t need to peer down to know that your skirt is beyond being saved by the air dryer in the bathroom.
To divert your attention anywhere but at your sopping core, you open your new Macbook Pro that Jungkook had recently gifted you only to find three new messages that have come in, each sliding along the upper right hand of the screen only to glide away after presenting themselves to you.
Two are from Jungkook and the other is from your CEO, Jimin.
Curiosity awakens in you and has you tilting your head as you open the older one first.
Jimin:
[1:45pm] What were you doing with Jungkook for lunch? You two were in there awfully long just for him to eat some Italian food. I was going to ask if you could chat with me about agendas and travel plans for the symposiums, but you seemed like you were in a hurry, so…
You chew at your lip at the memory of the way the off-white taint had dripped down the side of Jungkook’s lips and how he’d asked you to clean him up before pulling you into his lap so that you could lick it off with your tongue before he’d captured it in his mouth and given you the most passionate, intense French kiss you’d ever had as he sucked your wet warmth clean before pulling away ask for more.
For the life of you, you can’t remember if Jungkook’s blinds had been drawn in your fixation on each other. Since his office was directly next to and connected with Jimin’s, it was possible that if he hadn’t closed them that Jimin might have seen-
You click out of the message at the same time you cancel your thoughts from going down a network of ideas that would only make the unbearable pressure between your legs even heavier, your legs sticking together in your fidgeting movement as you hiss through the collection of your essence that coagulates there.
When you skid your mouse over only to click down on the mousepad and the next message pops up, you nearly fall to the floor with how quick you are to lean forward, your fingers gripping tightly onto the table to keep yourself from making contact with the carpeted ground as you read the next text.
Jungkook:
[2:36pm] Thanks for the meal, babygirl. You took such wonderful care of daddy. That alfredo sauce was delicious, but not as succulent and sweet as that pussy when I’ve got my mouth on it. I hope that pretty cunt is ready for me later when I put my fat fucking cock inside you and split you open on top of me. I’m hard for you right now, doll, but all good things come to those who wait, yeah?
[2:58] Oh, and I got you a dress to wear for that gala we are going to. I do believe you should have already made arrangements to attend, my precious petal. You’ll look so beautiful for me and I know you’ll be the belle of the ball. You’re going be all mine, pretty girl. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone before I tear that gown off you and show you who you belong to. And when you can’t walk anymore, I’ll carry you home and we can watch your favorite show while you lay on top of me so that I can play with your hair and tell you how exquisite you are while we eat macaroni and cheese and watch your k-drama that you like to put on so much :)
Truly, you don’t know how your boyfriend can turn your insides to mush with just a light glance or even a few words to then, a second later, have your core fluttering in anticipation of his dark vows. You had not one inch of doubt that he would make good on his promises and excitement flits through every contour of your body as you smile fondly at the screen.
The telltale ping that pongs through speakers set beside the two twin monitors behind your laptop bounces around the glass walls and suddenly your attention is ricocheted to those screens as your hand closes over the wireless mouse and you open the source of sound that you had chosen to alert you of incoming emails.
Amongst the thousands of emails, the bulk of them come from your bosses and the next mass of them originate from the plethora of dealers that your bosses worked with that often had to go through you before acquiring an audience with either of them.
Next were the intermediary reconciliations and discussions with coworkers outlining their status and progress on assignments within the firm that you were tasked with collecting and organizing before presenting it to Jungkook, who would relay it to Jimin. On occasion, you would report to Jimin first when he’d come to your office and sit down with you to discuss the overview of all the information, his eyes never straying from you even when you’d get up and walk about the room in your experiments to measure his interest in what you were talking about.
Jungkook set your body on fire in his scalding affections and attention, but Jimin…Jimin’s soft gaze that was speckled by the sugar of sweetness around you, well…it was like night and day.
You had come to love Jungkook as fiercely as the sun that has now ducked under the skyscrapers that rise high in the sky and Jimin had come to be someone you adored in the gracious geniality he swathed you in that contrasted so very much with Jungkook’s own feral ferociousness in how the latter had easily seized your heart in the palm of his hand.
With tangling thoughts of the two of them in your mind, you open the new email that was just sent moments ago. You don’t really know what to expect as you watch the circling icon in the middle of both screens as the content of the email loads, but the longer that you stare at the rotating wheel that-with every pass- has inquisitiveness circumnavigating and spiraling around you, the stronger that the emotion builds in you as you wait, your eyes only now just processing the subject of message.
Do you like this? Don’t think I forgot what you were telling me last week…
It’s innocent enough in the initial reading of it, but your mind really can’t help but to soil a more pure intent in lieu of a darker one if Jungkook is involved, after all. The man was insatiable and had tainted you with that same craving for him during every waking moment of your consciousness (and subsequently in your unconsciousness through your dreams that had become borderline pornographic in what your mind would conjure up illicit indecencies wrought upon you by your boyfriend).
When the spherical icon dissipates, so too does your last shred of self-restraint that is ripped away from you as you loudly whine out, your core clenching around nothing as you devour the eye candy.
Sweat sluices every bit of skin on both your boyfriend and Jimin, who are the models of the picture, and you’re quite certain that this might be the most profanely peccable thing that you’ve ever seen.
Jungkook smirks wickedly with his head thrown back against the wooden panel, his eyes closed and mouth parted in pleasure and the white t-shirt he wears sticks to his muscled chest to suck away its color in patches of perspiration that display wet blotches of where hidrosis has penetrated through the thin material to display musculature that the god of lust himself, you are convinced, had a hand in decorating him with.
His bicep bulges before the picture cuts off just below the upper half of his abs and you don’t need to think to know he’s jacking himself off with his face contorted into such a satisfied expression.
It is a sight that has your thighs rubbing together, a whimper sounding from you try to calm your breathing that has instantly become erratic in the breaths that refuse to stay lodged in your lungs as your boyfriend expels them expertly without even being physically present to do so.
It takes some effort to pull your irises away from Jungkook, who has you now on the edge of your seat as you rub your breasts against the edge of the wooden table in your need to feel his big, warm hands on you once again as you whisper, “Please…”
You lay your head on the table to ground yourself against something of the earthly plane before your soul descends to the fucking nether realm, but in so doing, your vision trails along Jungkook’s other arm that is pushed against Jimin’s own. The slightly older man has his head tilted so that his nape rests on Jungkook’s shoulder, his full lips open to permit sounds you wish you could hear while his eyes, like your boyfriend’s, are shut in a countenance twisted by rapture and you wonder what it is that they’re thinking about that they’ve both succumbed to.
Distantly, you want them to have been thinking of you, but self-consciousness nips at you despite it because how could two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen both be frozen in time like this through a picture of their pleasure amidst minds full only of you?
You shake your head at the thought and choose to fixate your attention back on Jimin, who has you salivating in the open v-cut black shirt that, with its short sleeves, leaves little to be imagined in the mound of muscle mounted along his own arms. He’s sitting back, like Jungkook, and is in the midst of his own sinful delight in the way that one arm is curled around his body in the way that it snakes downward and just out of the frame where you know his cock is in hand.
You make a pained sound in your solitude where neither of them can help you under Jungkook’s own order as you curse, “Damn you, Jungkook. You knew what this would do to me.”
You really don’t know how you’re able to look away from the delicatessen that is them, but when you slide one hand under the cup of your bra to clasp your breast and tease at the nipple there while you push against the desk so that your other is not neglected, the movement disturbs your line of vision so that you see the words he’d torturously typed under the picture sent from hell.
Don’t think that I forgot that you have a sweet tooth for our little Jimin, here, babygirl. When you got fucked against the walls in your office and I had you begging for your release, remember how I asked what you thought of him after he happened to walk in on us and then he ran away while I made you fucking scream so loud for me that he could still hear it even outside the building?
His tongue had been four inches deep inside you while he’d knelt on the floor for you to eat you out and your cheeks burn in the memory of how he’d had you a crying mess atop of him and in that moment, with your climax so close, he’d played you like his favorite toy in the truths that had been so easy to spew with the slew of his wet muscle that had the threads holding you together weak in their stitching in your need for the one operating your body to fix it all by bringing you to your end.
It had been purely an accident that you’d neglected to lock the door behind him when Jungkook had come to you with a dark glint in his eye that held only carnality in its iris after Jimin had kept you from him all day for meetings. The moment your boyfriend had snatched you away from your other boss, you’d fallen into his arms readily in the need for him that had tuned you like an instrument until you sung for him in your highest key.
Lost in each other, neither of you had heard the chink of the door that had borne your coupling to an observer who had stood with his cock hardening at the sight of you both in each other’s ecstasy until Jungkook had thrown you over your desk only for him to face Jimin, your CEO. The man’s eyes had bulged big as saucers when he’d been caught and Jungkook had only grinned as he eyed the tent in Jimin’s pants that broadcasted his obvious arousal. Your walls had constricted around the cock plunged deep inside you and you’d hit your third climax with a deadly snap of your boyfriend’s hips into you all while Jimin had ogled you before running as far as his legs would carry him.
Secure in the knowledge that you ardently cared about him after many confessions from you in the throes of passion and in the softer moments where Jungkook’s stoicism melted away in the wake of your praise and sweet utterances to him, he knew that you wanted to be with him and that you’d come to love him. It was why he had been so keen to tease you about Jimin in the following days upon realizing that you’d gotten off to being watched by the older man. If it meant your pleasure, he would gladly partake in anything and he’d professed as much to you on many nights (and mornings) in the tender aftercare he would treat you with, ever the doting yet adventurous lover that he was.
It was why you’d been able to let it slip when he’d had his long fingers plunged in you last night that no one could make you feel as good as he could, but that you were interested in seeing what Jimin’s smaller ones could do and how delicious his plush lips might feel on you. Jimin had always been sweet as honey to you and, in his lathering of that over you in your many moments together at work, you’d discovered that you wanted to get even more of a taste for him.
Never could you have expected that your boyfriend would do this and torture you with such hankering desire to be sated that it all but burned like a wildfire in your body, but you could hardly be expected to endure it in his absence.
You make a pained sound as you look at the picture that has damned your sex with even more taint to drip between your thighs and you cross your legs over each other in attempt to get some kind of friction. The attempt is fruitless and when there is nothing to relieve you, you squeeze at your breast and imagine that it is Jungkook who is doing so while the ridges of the table dig into your other and you fanaticize that it is Jimin’s ringed fingers that are palming at you as you cry out in desperation’s grip for either of them to come save you from the agony of their absence.
You moan at the cool, prickly sensation of your fingers on your skin, your nipple hardening amidst your digits that the cold air of the office has chilled as you seek more stimulation. Your boyfriend’s name falls like an icicle from your lips and when your voice pierces through the thin audio line that Jungkook had screenshared your computer to watch and hear you through Facetime with, he licks at his lips at your exposed cleavage as he watches you pop open another button as you titillate your tits and huff in frustration as you uncross your legs in some misguided effort to encourage friction that he knows you are incapable of granting yourself in your current situation by his own order.
He feasts his eyes on you as your breasts are shoved against one another, the ‘y’ shape of them bursting from your bra now as you cup one between the fingers of one hand and the other is butted into the table as you moan once more and call his name.
“Help me, Jungkook…” You breathe, your irises still sticking to the picture that has ruined you from wanting to do anything holy for the rest of the day, week or even month for that matter. With your head swimming in sin spurred by your boyfriend, all you can think about now is Jungkook, Jimin, Jungkook, Jimin, Jungkook, Jungkook and lastly, Jungkook.
It is your voice that cracks your boyfriend’s fixation on the way your breasts rise and fall with your labored breaths as pulls his eyes from the trenches of your tits before peering up to your lovely face that is marred with the aching affliction he knows wracks your core, his own cock twitching with interest as you repeat his name like a mantra in what little else your mind can internalize with how your sex must be sobbing for him right now.
Lust seeps through the rips and tears that have begun to open and enlarge your pores as it spreads through your fragile body in the trembles that have you shaking in your attempts to abstain from the slow destruction that has reduced the filling inside your core to wet, ruined fibers like a tainted toy. Without realizing what you’re doing, one hand skids over the wet patch of your essence that has stained your skirt, your palm aquaplaning through that to dive under your skirt and when you slot it between your legs and streamline it into your sopping core with the image of your boyfriend’s hand doing this to you in your mind while Jimin watches, you keen.
“Jungkook,” you try, “n-need you. Want you to fuck me and let Jimin see how good you make me feel, daddy. Your doll is about to tear herself apart because you won’t play with me…”
At that, there’s a low growl that booms through the speakers that amplify his voice that promises danger as it demands, “Get your little hand out of that wet ass pussy before daddy makes you regret even thinking about disobeying me,” his voice deepens as he orders, “Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself, get the fuck in my office. Now.”
Your core contracts at his dominance that is injected into each word and, per his command, your palms shoot away from you as if you were a puppet that he’d pulled on the strings of to whisk your hands away from where he knew you would damage yourself further.
You rise from your chair on legs that wobble both from Jungkook’s earlier ministrations and your own, your extract dyed onto your chair as you peer back and your cheeks burn at the damned deposit of it that has seeped through your panties and skirt. One knee quivers dangerously as your joints fight to hold you up through the numbness that your boyfriend had left in his wake and you have to plant a hand on your desk to hold yourself up while you steady yourself for the moment.
From the computer, your boyfriend glares darkly at you as he brings the window that his own computer records himself with to the forefront of your tabs, your attention being sucked like a black hole into him as he declares, “You’re going to sit in daddy’s lap and if you choose to be a bad girl and not listen to what daddy tells you, you’re going to go without cock for as long as I decide to withhold it from you. Understand?”
“I…I understand, sir.” You nod as you will the strength back in your legs despite his words that threaten to steal it yet again.
“Good. So submissive. Just how I like you, baby,” he groans as his irises settle on the gleaning mess painting across your thighs from the field of view the camera grants him, “You’ve got me so hard already. I bet that cunt must have drenched itself for me, huh? I guess we’ll find out in a little bit when I clean it all off of you with my tongue,” he has you whining at that as he brings a hand to his chin to rest his face against it as his eyes glint with lasciviousness as he makes a sound of consideration, “Or maybe I should use my fingers? My cock? Perhaps since you’ve been defiant and tried to please yourself, I won’t touch you at all, hm? How would you like that?”
You reach out for him even through the screen, panic coloring your tone as you implore with pleading eyes, “J-Jungkook, please…don’t. I’m ready for you. I might just break down in tears if you deny me again, so please-“
“You’ll get what I decide to give to you, babygirl. I gave you simple instructions and I expect that you follow through with them or that little cunt won’t be the only thing that cries for me tonight, doll. Now,” he states with no room for anything but obeyance, “get the fuck in here.”
Your sex quivers at that and you nod in affirmation as he ends the call once more, your weakened, numbed legs reducing you to a tottering mess of limbs as you emerge out of your office and amble closely to the walls, one hand held out against them to support you in the dangerous dalliance between remaining upright and falling to the floor in your shuddering ligaments that are entirely the work of Jungkook. You don’t have to walk far, but in your slow pace, the seconds stretch on and every step has your slick lewdly dripping down your legs much to your mortification that takes its form in the heat that rushes to your cheeks in the blood that manifests itself there.
You hobble along the glass walls that offer the view of the city that blinks to life below you in the lights that wink at you while tiny specks of moving bodies bedeck the pavement and once, long ago, when you’d been but a freshmen in college, you’d stood amongst them as you stared in awe at the same building you now work within in. Time had passed but in an instant and when you’d met Jungkook by happenstance one night in a bar with your friends and he’d been quick to pay your tab before sweeping you off your feet and walking with you through the city, you’d had no idea how much your life was about to change when you’d gone home to discover the small piece of parchment he’d slipped in your purse when you hadn’t been paying attention with as distracted by his beauty both in body and soul as you’d been while the two of you had chatted about everything and anything that kept the conversation flowing as easily as the waters in a forest brook. You’d not hesitated in calling him the day after and he’d been eager to see you again.
You’d gone on your first date with him that night and day after day, the two of you met again and again, for his company was as refreshing as the midnight air that caressed your skin after a long day of classes and before you’d known what had happened, it had been a year and it had only been after letting it out that you wanted an internship with a firm that he’d told you what exactly he did and what company he worked for.
Your jaw had hurt with how wide your maw had opened in disbelief and when he’d offered to bring you in as part of the team, you’d been all too happy to accept. You really had tried to keep things professional, but Jungkook had not a care in the world for appearances where you two were concerned and your escapades in the bedroom soon made it to the corporate sphere. You could not deny him no matter how hard you tried. It was as if your body had been made to fall into his skilled hands and you would gladly grant him anything if it meant his appeasement.
After all, you’d become putty in his palm while you had unknowingly wrapped him around your own fingers.
Perhaps that is why, when you finally reach the familiar double doors that permit entrance into Jungkook’s office, your hand quavers in the anticipation that has you in its clutches down to your very bones and there is not a moment of pause that stops you from opening them as your hand curls around the brass handle only for you to slip inside, the small clink of the knob resounding around you when you close it behind you.
Covering the oaken floor, a rug that you’d picked to decorate the room is lain over it. Threaded and crafted in India, it was one you’d seen in the marketplace he’d taken you to on one of his business trips to meet with a dealer that had contacted the firm in their interest to have the firm build a hotel there. You’d taken one look at the ornate swirls colored black as night and red as a rose in the way that the pattern had intertwined in rotating spirals and whirls and your boyfriend had not missed your small whisper about how nice it was while you’d both walked by it amongst the bustle of street life that filled the area packed with people and vendors energetically trying to sell their merchandise.
You hadn’t thought that he’d heard you, but he’d promptly asked if you liked it and you really hadn’t been expecting anything at all when you’d commented and that it would complement his office in his knowledge that black and red were your favorite colors. With a smile, he’d taken out his wallet (much to your surprise) and taken out a wad of cash that he’d easily passed to the unsuspecting vendor before buying the rug and turning to the group of onlooking teenage boys to pay them off in their efforts to carry it over to your lodgings on your way to the consultation with your dealer.
Later that night, he’d taken you to a very nice and very extravagant firelit, poolside meal at the Giardino by the the Jai Mahal Palace in Jaipur that you both were sharing a room in. He’d had you giggling every other minute between the fond touches that he’d brush along your cheek or stroke your clothed thigh with from atop the high-necked silk dress that he’d bought for you and after, you’d both had taken a stroll by the surrounding greenery and woodlands beyond the pool. The stars had gleamed in your eyes when you’d peered lovingly at him and not for the first time, he’d been struck with that pang in his chest whenever you looked at him like that while you both had reminisced about how you’d met in that dingy little bar about a year and a half prior.
When you’d both kissed under the cover of the trees, that feeling that flew around his ribcage had fluttered when you’d adoringly pecked the mole beneath his lower lip as you’d earnestly and heartfeltly thanked him for everything that he’d done for you. When you’d confessed that he’d quickly become the light of your life, he’d tenderly pressed his forehead to your own as he’d pressed his lips to yours once more, the word that had fled him for so long that foretold his own emotions finally surfacing through the depths of his mind.
He’d declared then and there that he loved you with sincerity beating as fast as his heart through every word. He’d been quick to gently thumb away at the teardrops of joy that spilled from your eyes when he’d finally said it while you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck as you reciprocated the sentiment in a breathless voice that held so much affection for him that it made his chest swell with the emotion and in that moment, he’d decided that he wanted to give you something that-when you looked upon it and felt its weight on your skin- you would be reminded of who loved you that intricately and implicitly.
He’d held you close with only the moon’s eye presiding over you both while he’d cutely nudged at your nose, his fingers interlacing with your own that you readily accepted and when he’d pulled away, a new resolve had settled in his pupils as he tugged you forward and soon you found yourself being ushered through the busy, bustling streets of Jaipur.
Bordering on the desert’s boundary, it was a city that you are sure could have been taken right out of a picture in the pinkened sandstone that every store and building had been crafted out of. Ancient structures erected in times past still stood strong among the newer and more modern creations of contemporary origin and the contrast boasted of a rich diversity that had you wanting to learn more about it despite the books that your boyfriend had gotten for you in a homely little bookstore earlier in the day. Youths had run through the streets with vivaciousness tailing them like the dogs that happily ran with them while the old had shuffled along and chattered about their daily lives and it was a place that was dyed in the warm color its inhabitants adored it with.
Distracted as you had been with the scenery that painted itself into your memory with artful amalgamation of colors, you’d not noticed where he was intent on leading until he was opening a door for you and coaxing you inside with a reassuring nod despite your confused quirk of your chin, you let him guide you inside only to have you gasping under the fluorescently lit store that was notoriously known throughout India for its high class bijouterie called Tanishq.
Though you had never heard of it, Jungkook himself had been told about the company from a contact in Mumbai that he’d visited with you in their interest in building an additional wing within the library and, upon seeing the way that you both had been inseparable in the tendency to be joined at the hip at all times, he’d suggested the store to your boyfriend after you’d gotten up from your place on his lap to go explore the books that had been crammed on the bookshelf while they’d both watched you curiously tap your fingers against the aged spines of the books. The elderly man had seen fondness for each other well up in your gazes as whenever you and your boyfriend looked upon each other and, after telling Jungkook he only saw that kind of amity in a newlywed couple, he mentioned the name of the store that only the wealthiest of grooms would purchase jewelry for their beloveds from.
It had purely been by chance that you both had happened to walk by the same store the gray bearded man had spoken to him of and amongst seeing the way your eyes had widened bigger than the largest diamond in the store, Jungkook had decided you were priceless in how cute you were as he chuckled and told you to pick out anything you desired.
You’d crinkled your nose in confusion, your brows creasing as you’d told him that you were perfectly happy to just have the treasure of him, but he’d only brought his lips to your forehead as he’d mused, “You know, you really are so adorable, Y/N. I want to spoil you. Won’t you let me do that for you, baby? I want to decorate you in my mark so that everyone will know who your heart belongs to. Please allow me to do so, petal.”
You really had not been able to resist the big bunny eyes as he’d coaxed you forward and so he’d sat down on the leather loveseat in the corner of the room, the business-suited employees quietly looking on as you moved about.
Jewels of every size, color and cut were decoratively placed within rectangular glass casings along either side of the first floor of the trendy store swathed in white walls and artificial illumination. Set within the walls themselves were square nooks that housed singular pieces separated from the rest that were couched on plush satin. The entire place was full of glittering jewelry that beckoned the eye, but your boyfriend had been noticed the way that you bit at your cheek as you passed them all by in your indecision since the collection of necklaces, rings, earrings and bracelets were all so pretty to you.
When he’d risen to inquire about any other pieces, the store representative had seemed reluctant at first to give such critical information, but it had taken only a moment for the older woman to retreat to the back to retrieve one of the store’s most coveted pieces that only respected customers could have the privilege of even looking at after Jungkook had, without your notice, stuck his hand into the inside pocket of his Gucci suit jacket to pull out a thick wad of American bills and rupees, his Rolex watch revealing itself from under the sleeve of the black outer garment whilst he did.
When the woman had returned with a black lacquered box in her hand to set it down on the four-legged glass table and told Jungkook that the necklace inside was one of the store’s most prized possessions, his interest had been piqued as he called you over and, with a questioning expression, he’d chuckled as he walked over to you to gently ease you forward with a hand on the small of your back you’d come to before the little chest.
He’d been gentle as he’d urged you to open it as you stared at the box, ever the patient man that he was as he waited for you to finally lift the lid of the chest. You hadn’t known what to expect when you heeded him, but it certainly hadn’t been the article of jewelry inside as it immediately drew your eye as your breath hitched at the sight of it.
Sat on bed of velvet, you’d grown fond of it the second you saw it in the way it glinted with each sliver of light that seemed to be drawn toward it. It commanded attention in the way it glittered and glistened in the rays of light that bounced off it and innocently, your fingers hovered over it yet never touched for the fear that you might destroy something so fragile and delicate.
You hadn’t trusted yourself with it, but Jungkook had been all too eager to lift it up and off its resting place to lay it over your neck before clasping it around you and telling you to look in the mirror at yourself.
Beset in white gold, diamonds grew within two thin metal vines that trailed and wrapped around your neck amidst buddings of flowers that intermingled along each side, the pistils of gems at their centers made of rubies. Upon the dip of the necklace along the notch between your clavicles, a slightly smaller floweret sprouted a larger one beneath it and connected to that was a falling petal that dangled prettily just under your collarbones.
“You look beautiful in that, my precious flower. Its charm becomes you well, pretty girl.”
Upon his praise, you’d preened as you’d thanked him for the adulation and before you could do anything else, he’d slid his black card out of black snakeskin Gucci wallet before telling the associate to simply ‘run it through’ with no hesitation as he drew his lip between his teeth as he watched you lightly skim your fingers over the ornate piece of jewelry.
The representative had informed him when she’d brought it out that it was a grand total of $37,713 and yet, he would gladly give that small bit of money to bejewel you so that you could shine like the gem that you were to him. You never asked for any material things nor expected them of him like other women once did in your poorer upbringing that had left you destitute and in debt when you’d met him and despite all of that, you never requested aid from him and it was one of the reasons why he enjoyed lavishing such gifts on you in addition to paying off your school of his own volition even amidst your efforts to tell him that he didn’t have to (and yet he always wanted to wherever you were concerned).
He’d assured you once more how lovely you looked, your cheeks turning red as the rubies you wore as he came behind you to plant his mouth under the clasp of the necklace along your nape, one of your hands reaching back to intermingle with his own as you’d quietly let him know how grateful you were and that he really didn’t have to expend so much effort to show you how he felt about you to which he wrapped his arms around you to seep the waters of his truth into you as he’d answered, “ Nonsense, petal. I want you to accept this so that whenever anyone looks at you and asks who got this for you,” he’d let his lips wander along flowing foliage of gems and gold as he’d soiled you with his kisses, “you will tell them that your boyfriend, whom you love so much, was the one who got it for you,” his mouth had lifted as he’d inched close to the shell of your ear as you shivered in the hot breath that prickled at your skin, “When you’re torn away from me because of work or anything else, I want you to remember that you twined yourself around me like the vines on this necklace and that I fell for you as surely as the petal that descends from it.”
You’d been helpless to whimper at that as you’d turned your head to the side to meet his waiting lips that had been all too willing to receive you as you smiled into the kiss.
Later that night, you’d been sure to show to him just how thankful you really were as you’d ridden him well through the midnight hours only to wake him with your lips wrapped around the very cock that, even in sleep, he’d ground against your ass in his voracious appetite that he liked only to consume from you.
When you’d found yourself sitting atop him, his back lain against the headboard as you’d fucked yourself over his cock while the sun had begun to peek over the horizon, the jewels had glimmered enthusiastically amidst the riled rotations of your hips over him. Seven months later, the same brilliant bijou envelops your throat as you look down to the floor submissively like your boyfriend had taught you to do upon entry into his much larger and grander office, your fingers linking together behind your back just as he’d always instructed you to do.
Two flat screen televisions are perched atop onyx oak media stands on either side of the room, their screens set alight with virtual fireplaces that blaze within them. Between them and atop the rug Jungkook had had brought over from India is a mid-sized sofa the color of mahogany and flanking that are two lounge chairs of colored like cream and in front of them is a square glass table. Jungkook had made sure to test the durability of just about every piece in the room, for he’d fucked you over just about everything as far as the eye could see and had done so too many times for you to even be able to count anymore in his constant craving for you.
There are wooden blinds that span the length of every glass wall, each of them opened to allow the moon’s silvery beams to filter through them amidst the lamps positioned precariously around each corner of the room, the lampshades that top them covering the sides of the room in golden ambient incandescence that softly lights the edges of the office up in a yellowed hue that reminds you of much smaller rays of sunlight despite the moonlight that coalesces around the central figure in the room amid your boyfriend’s command that calls it forth upon him.
Presently, Jungkook is sat in an expensive and executive leather chair the color of soil, his legs thrown atop the wenge wood desk that was crafted and imported all the way from Africa in the rare material cut from the tough bark of the legume tree native to the country.
You see none of this and fidget uncomfortably in the steadily oozing taint of your arousal that continues to percolate down your thigh while a voice low as a baritone emits itself from the iPhone lain over Jungkook’s desk as your boyfriend eyes you with interest, a smirk twitching at the side of one lip as he takes in your debauched state while the caller on his phone fills the room with his thick voice in the midst of the business call that he’d been made to make.
It’s not the first time he’s had you come to him in the middle of a phone call, but you have to fight the whimper that wants to wheedle its way out of you at the memory of how he’d called you in here but a month ago to suck him off while he’d been in the middle of one with a client, his need for you too strong for him to lay to bed when he’d watched you hungrily gorge yourself on a banana from your seat in your office.
“Jungkook, I need answers as we near the end of the fiscal year. You had many opportunities for appraisals this quarter and those preceding it and as such, I want to know where our dealers and contributors were most dense and what their appeal was so that we can draft out potential areas of interest to focus our fixed assets on. Surely in all of the trips and consultations you had for the last several months, you already have a response on the tip of your tongue.”
“On the tip of your tongue,” your boyfriend makes a sound of thought as he taps his finger against his chin while he devours you with his roving gaze, “Perhaps I do, co-founder Taehyung. Speaking of evaluations,” your boyfriend’s voice darkens, “my secretary has been quite valuable to us.”
At the mention of you, your heart does a flip in your chest as you fix your eyes somewhere between your feet because you know if you dare to look anywhere else, you might just become a fucking puddle of limbs on the floor.
“Come here, Y/N,” Jungkook orders, your back straightening straight as an arrow at the instructions.
You don’t know how you manage it with your legs as feeble as they are, but you move forward unsteadily despite the threatening numbness that leaves your ligaments dangerously close to giving out on you in the strength that has been stolen from them by your boyfriend.
The clack of your high heels reverberates along the walls and is loud amidst the blood that pounds in your ears, your heart racing amidst the heavy, hot attention that is as warm as the sun’s rays over your bared skin as your boyfriend looks on at you.
You move as drawn to him like he’s some kind of magnet and in the attraction for him that pulls away any rational thought, you find yourself standing before him, his hands rising to swaddle your hips in his hold. His touch, even through the black button down linen shirt that you wear, is warm and has you melting the instant his palms leisurely drag themselves up and down your sides as you relish in his attention.
Taehyung continues with an impressed snort, “Jungkook, Jimin has informed me all about your little secretary many times over,” your boyfriend’s digits curl inward to sink into your soft skin at that as he informs, “This is not the time to be rambling about how she’s snatched both your heart and cock in each of her hands. I want facts, not sentiments.”
“Oh, but that’s the thing, Tae,” Jungkook lilts, his grip on you tightening as he ushers you between his legs that he spreads for you, your own bones liquifying like goo under his strength that he’s spent many hours in the gym working to acquire as you make a sound of startlement when he suddenly turns you around and whisks you into his lap, your ass sitting down upon the hardened bulge that readily receives you as Jungkook chuckles in the mess of your taint that darkens the fabric of his pants where your core is perched over him to amusedly offer, “ She has erected more than just my cock, however many times it has been, I’ll have you know. She was the one who orchestrated dealings with, hm,” one hand lifts from your side so that long fingers can coax your chin up and to the side so that the two of you lock eyes, “how many dealers this year did you have coming for me, darling? Tell Taehyung here. I think he’s underestimating how useful you’ve been to me.”
“S-sixty nine,” you blurt as the hand on your chin descends down the ‘v’ of your shirt, his deft digits popping open the small buttons without pause and the plummet you’d taken in his dilating irises that promise nothing but sin, you have to climb along their edges only to realize what you’d said and quickly you stammer as you amend, “I-I mean, 669 contractors, T-Taehyung. I helped to orchestrate that number of dealers that were taken by the company.”
“Everything alright, baby?” Your boyfriend husks into the shell of your ear, his teeth taking one lobe between them as the last button is undone, your shirt opening to reveal your bra-clad breasts as his hand flows freer than water in the way he draggles it along your abdomen until he possessively wraps it around one breast to give you a harsh squeeze, your head falling back against his shoulder as you bite at your lip to keep quiet while your skin pebbles at his touch.
“Jungkook,” you breathe, “do something. Please.”
“Mmm, you’ve been so good for me, so good for the company, petal,” He emphasizes as he trails his lips down the column of your neck and you turn into the featherlight touch of his lips and between them, he utters,” Don’t you agree, Jimin?”
Your eyes widen at the name despite the heat that fertilizes your arousal deep in your core, but you don’t dare look away from Jungkook without permission. Your boyfriend nips at the tender spot along the base of your neck where the garden of jewels wrap themselves around you that he’d bought for you months prior and it is only when the hand on your breast slowly streamlines downwards to slip under the waistline of your skirt to slide between your sopping folds that he hisses into your ear, “Fuck, baby, are you that turned on in the knowledge that he just watched me do all this to you?” You moan, but it is trapped behind the hand he covers your mouth with while his fingers prod at your hole, your entrance begging him to find himself in your wet warmth in the way you clench around nothing as he rasps, “Look at him, babygirl. I want you to see what you’ve done to him because you just can’t resist me, can you? Go on, doll. Make him fall to his knees for you just like I did.”
With your head still laid against his shoulder as he lavishes you in the brush of his soft lips against you, you shift your visage away from your boyfriend with some effort, your irises wandering from Jungkook’s deadly distending ones that are colored black as a shark’s in the predatory way he looms above you to those of the only other man in the room that might just be a puppy in disguise with the way his light brown irises implore your own for some much wanted attention.
Dressed in a plain black suit that contrasts his unique beauty, your CEO wears a tie over a white dress shirt that you wish you could see through to gage which of the pair of them is more muscled between the two of them. His hair is carefully styled in its parting that leaves his entire forehead naked to your sight amidst the thick tufts that arch up along the left while the right side is pressed loosely along his scalp, his sideburns extending to the middle of his ear that is ringed with three hoops along each side. Perfectly sculpted brows frame almond eyes that beg for yours and lips that rival your own boyfriend’s decorate him below a straight nose. His lower lip is slightly thicker than his upper one and they are quite shapely around the thumb he currently gnaws at much like a chew toy, his tongue longer than a dog’s as it curves under the digit while he waits for his master to give him notice.
Jimin is entirely lost in the way that his other hand is presently wrapped around the tie as if it is a leash that keeps his hand from going lower so that he can rut into himself like you know he must want to given the white of his knuckles that mar his skin as he clutches at the thin piece of silk. His hand appears so much smaller around the article of clothing, his fingers so much shorter than your boyfriend’s that clamp down over your mouth as one finger pushes into your hole, your walls clenching around him and the whimper that wants to escape never makes it out of you and when you see Jimin’s digits begin to tremble with how tightly he holds onto the tie, you wonder what they might be able to do to you despite their littler size.
“That’s it, babygirl,” Jungkook tells you as he runs his tongue at the sternocleidomastoid muscle cording the base of your neck, your walls contracting within you as he drives his digit back and forth with his middle finger while using the others to run along your folds as he does, your face contorting into one of pleasure as your hips buck atop him all while Jimin bites hard onto his own thumb as he watches the both of you and it is then that Jungkook mutters lowly, “Keep doing that. He’s getting hard for you, petal. He could never get as hard for you as I do, but he’s getting there, doll,” your boyfriend nibbles at your now exposed shoulder to stifle the groan when you press your ass more insistently on him as he pulls your shirt off of you to give a sotto voce demand, “Use my fingers and get yourself off with them, pretty girl. Fuck yourself on me and let him watch you fall apart on top of me, Y/N.”
You don’t need to be told twice and, following his instruction, you plant both hands in front of you with each on one of this thighs, your fingers curling inward to pitch themselves into the grounds of built up muscle that compose his legs to lift yourself up only to sink back onto his digit that easily goes all the way down to his knuckle in how deep his digit is plunged inside you. Your whine is captured by the hand he replaces with his lips in a passionate kiss that draws all your attention back to him before they flutter closed, his mouth overtaking your own as he glides his tongue along your lower lip before twisting around your own as he feasts himself on you.
Taehyung’s voice cuts through it all as he huffs, “I don’t know what is going on over there, but someone better give me some answers,” there’s a pause and the sound of fabric rustling when your moan writhes itself between Jungkook’s lips that are held over your mouth when a second finger is added and he deliciously curls his fingers in a come-hither motion as your hips jerk atop him and when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth only to release your mouth and leave you in a dizzied daze amid the loss of oxygen he’d taken from you, his lips lower to graze the nape of your neck as your head falls forward amidst the sudden jerk of your hips over him as Taehyung clears his throat, “Jimin, is what Jungkook said what you know to be true? If so, have you any idea where most of her accounts were set up so that we can look into stimulating more in those areas?”
“So sensitive for me,” your boyfriend mouths at your skin, this thumb brushing your clit to have you stutter your hips as he works you open on top of him,” So fucking wet, too. Come on, babygirl. Show them how bad you want me. Make them wish they could fuck you every night like I do,” he husks as he impels his fingers back and forth inside you, your pussy clinging to his fingers in the lewd squelches that permeate the room and all the while, Jimin’s visage is tugged to the sight of your boyfriend’s digits disappear within your cunt as his own member begins to weep precum in want of you.
“S-she um, well…yes, correct,” he flounders as words scramble in every direction within his mind as he observes a sex film right in front of him that is infinitely more arousing than any porno he has seen before in how receptively submissive you are to Jungkook who has you looking fucked out when he’s only just begun his ministrations on you.
You, who has been in Jimin’s dreams and thoughts during many nights when he has been alone in bed with his only company being the pillows he’d rut into for some semblance of relief when his hand would become too tired to bear the burden of lust that you had inspired without even knowing.
Helpless as an abandoned puppy, he can only look on as a rumble razes from between his lips s you raise yourself off of Jungkook’s digits only to fall back down on them as he scissors them into you with precision, each finger stretching you out around him as your own hands tighten their hold on his thick thighs amidst the whimper that is heaved from your lips when his thumb flicks at the bundle of nerves foresting your core to have your jerk atop his rock hard member that strains against the confines of his trousers.
The fingers on your side bite into your skin as he constringes them around you while he leans forward to growl, “Watch it, baby. I never you said you could ride me yet,” you whine only for him to connect his lips to the spot just under your ear to suck the skin into his mouth and that has you keen as your hips careen into the fingers that have deliciously started to thrust into you as he hisses, “You want daddy’s dick, huh? Do you think you can fucking take it, doll? I’m not so sure… I think,” his thumb pressurizes itself into your clit in slight palpitations that are too calculated and measured against the rapid beats of your heart while a third finger is inserted and propelled inside to have you cry out as his tone bottoms in pitch amidst the way your back bows against him, “I think that since you were two minutes fucking late in getting here, you need to be taught a lesson about coming on time. Jimin, come here.”
“You guys act like such children over your toys, fuck. I just wanted to have a normal business call for once,” Taehyung’s voice drones on, but there’s a slight tick to it that suggests he might not be as irritated as he wants to sound while he grumbles, “I don’t want to be privy to this. I’ve only heard Jimin’s voice get like that once when I took him to a strip club and I’m not going to stick around for your little threesome or whatever the fuck you all are about to do.”
“Oh, but you will, co-founder Taehyung,” Jungkook’s hand rises from your hip to unclasp your bra and when he divests it off of your writhing body, it falls with a thump to the floor with the last of Jimin’s self-restraint, his fingernails digging into the silk of his tie to leave crescent moons in his palms as he rises to lick at his lips in the way that your tits sway temptingly to the motions as you jounce atop your boyfriend while Jungkook smirks, his lips hovering only an inch from your own shoulder as his irises flash darkly at Jimin when he asserts, “Jimin here has some nice, big lips and he likes to put them to use and run his mouth around me,” Jimin’s eyes widen as his teeth come down on his cheek while Jungkook’s smile lethally widens, “He’s told me all about what you did the night you came to the office in the supply closet with one of my receptionists and how you told him that you let a particular name slip from your mouth when you had your cock in someone else’s.”
Jimin’s back goes rigid as a rod and he stops midway in his journey toward you, the filaments of his tie near their tearing point with how tightly his hand is wound around it as his cheeks puff out while he peers pleadingly at Jungkook who simply ticks his head to the side, one brow arching in amusement as he asks, “What was the name again, Jimin? I’ll let you touch her if you tell Taehyung the truth. I know you must want to see how responsive she is under your fingers, yeah?”
“For fuck’s sake, Jimin, do not listen to Jungkook-“
“Y/N,” he softly says despite the rough hold on his tie in its stitching that has started to tear. With Jungkook’s heavy ultimatum resting on his shoulders, it really hadn’t been possible for him to crumble under its dense weight with the sweet serendipity of you that was so near that he could almost taste it.
Your face lifts at the mention of yourself, your eyes meeting Jimin’s and in them there is surprise that is flecked by lifted brows, but it is soon smeared away by the desire that blotches them as Jungkook chooses that moment to let his tongue peek from between his lips only to trail it along the nape of your neck before closing his mouth around you to siphon you once again between them, your neck gradually becoming a woodland of reddened petals that rival the color of a rose in the passion that had been emitted in the making of them.
Appeased, Jungkook hums, “Mmm, good boy. I knew you would listen to me. Come and claim your reward,” he husks as he circles your clit with his thumb the way he knows you like it, your end rapidly nearing as your boyfriend shoves all three fingers into you without pause at the same time that you frenziedly meet his ministrations in faltering jolts of your hips over him and when you watch Jimin tortuously pull his lower lip under his perfect buck teeth as he moves mercifully closer, you moan out when Jungkook’s middle finger prods at the cluster of nerves deep within you as your boyfriend groans at the way your slick drips down his fingers with how much taint you produce in want of them both before he goads, “Go on, Jimin. Touch her. Her tits were made by a fucking succubus. God, they’re so good for a nice cocksleeve aren’t they, babygirl?”
“Yes, Jungkook…yes,” you breathlessly reply as your nipples harden in the cold air that prickles at your exposed skin, a dangerous jab of his fingers deep into you drawing a guttural sound deep from the recesses of your body that he expertly forges you with as his thumb swirls over your clit to leave you panting.
In your labored suspirations, your chest heaves back and forth, your tits being pushed out and in to have Jimin’s fingers shuddering from their prison of their cage in his tie while his other hand mindlessly reaches for you.
As he nears you, Jungkook speeds up his ministrations inside you, his fingers curving dangerously to rub against your walls that clench around him and it isn’t until Jimin hovers awkwardly by the side of Jungkook’s desk that he notices the way that Jungkook drags one hand away from your side to snake it around your abdomen and pull you flush against his chest as he clucks his tongue, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Jimin… did I tell you when you were allowed to touch her? Did you think you could just come over here and have what is mine without my permission?”
Jimin’s hand shoots away from you as if he’d been burned as he shamefully casts his visage to the floor as he speaks haltingly,” I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…she’s just pretty as a doll on your lap, Jungkook. Please, let me have her. I’ll be good to her, I promise.”
“Did you both forget that I’m still here? Christ. I can’t believe you told Jungkook that I said the name of his damn girlfriend while I was getting sucked off, Jimin,” there’s a sound of a belt buckle opening as his voice hardens, “I guess I can’t really help it. You do have quite an eye for women, Jungkook. None more so than this one, though,” You feel the grin against you amidst the skin that is currently being suctioned between his lips as he decorates you in another necklace that blossoms in blots of purple and red under the one made of gems gleaming enticingly around you as Jungkook suddenly brings your ass down onto his clothed, yet colossal cock in time with digits that pierce you all the way to your g-spot, your eyes rolling back with your head that lands on your boyfriend’s shoulder as Taehyung cavils, “It’s her fault for getting my dick wet whenever I come to visit the office. You should thank whatever god is up there that you found such a loyal little girl to give herself to you," You preen at the words despite the fingers currently driving themselves ferociously into you as Jungkook agrees with a nod while he rambles, "I will say I tried making a move on her when I last came to the office and when she refused and instead went to your office, that's how I found myself in that supply closet."
“So I heard from Jimin, Taehyung,” Jungkook muses as while he helixes his digits inside you without fail, the arm that still is enclosed around you pulling you back into him so that there is no space that remains between you as he hotly intones into the shell of your ear loud enough for them all to hear, “I fucked her maybe seven different ways that night because of that. She just couldn’t get enough of me, could she, babygirl?”
You agree as you hoist yourself up only to heft yourself back down with a broken moan as Jimin turns to the table in the absence of you to rut himself into it, his face contorted into one of concentration as he tries to think about anything but how your pussy would feel around the cock that cries wantonly for you.
“Look at him, baby,” Jungkook urges as he swirls his thumb over your clit, “he can’t even contain himself for you anymore,” he speaks up, “He just can’t take it, can he?”
“Can…can take it, Jungkook, please. I need to feel her. Need to touch her,” Jimin manages despite the obstinate grooves of the desk that scuff and scrape his member rigidly as he tries, and fails, to simulate some semblance of relief without you as he attempts to say, “You’re t-torturing m-me. Let me do something to her, anything to her.”
“Do you think you should be allowed to touch what isn’t yours so freely? She’s mine,” Jungkook growls as he curves his digits purposefully inside you, his own cock throbbing at the way your juices have now coated his entire hand whilst your walls flutter tellingly around him as you submerge yourself on his digits with thighs that now tremble with your rigorous efforts, a moan slewing from your lips as he slides his fingers so deep inside that they press skillfully at the bundle of nerves that has your back arching against him while he possessively wraps his hand around your throat that had been on your abdomen to keep you in place and when his thumb twiddles itself around your clit, that’s when you cry out for your boyfriend who then smirks knowingly, his eyes flitting from you only to sear into Jimin's as he arches a brow to ask, “She’s almost there, isn’t she, Jimin? How badly do you want to touch her? Beg for me and maybe I’ll let you have a small piece of her before she fucking gets stuffed full of my cock for the fourth time today.”
Your end is so close, yet so far away. Like the waters of an ocean, it washes over your feet, but the waves of pleasure in the distance that roll deeper in the seas of rapture are too far away from you to reach as you sink into the sands that are grained with Jungkook’s control over you to keep you from moving toward it. With your end so close, you hardly even process what is said when Taehyung talks under his breath that has quickly become erratic in your sounds of ecstasy that have wrapped around his cock as he jacks himself off on the other end of the line.
“Tell him what he wants to know, Jimin,” Taehyung advises, his voice strained through the strenuousness of his own indecent actions as he wishes it was your cunt that his cock was enveloped in while his voice deepens, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“You’ll both wait until I decide when Jimin can play with what belongs to me,” Jungkook professes, his fingers speeding themselves inside you and when you whimper at the way he slides his digits deliciously inside you at the same time his thumb strikes your clit, it’s enough to have you buck your hips as he tightens his fingers around your throat in warning while he orders, “You’re not allowed to cum yet, babygirl. Don’t even think about it. I want to put my cock in you so you can warm me up for later, yeah?”
“Jungkook, I can’t hold on for much longer,” you confess through elusive breaths as his fingers constrict around your throat for daring to admit that.
“You’ll hold on as long as I tell you to, baby. That cunt won’t get off on its own, will it?” He husks whilst his fingers deftly stroke your walls in curled motions as his thumb falls from your clit to ream the outer lips of your sex and you sob out at the loss of stimulation to the nerves crowning your womanhood as he watches your expression change in a myriad of different countenances before you settle on submission and nod knowing that you won’t get what you want if you disobey him after many lessons imparted to you in the bedroom.
“That’s right, baby. Obey,” Jungkook groans as you clench around him and it’s when he hears Jimin call for him in a hushed tone that a devious idea unfurls itself in his mind and he doesn’t have to look over at Jimin to see that the older man is bent over the desk and is mindlessly grinding into it to resolving none of the tension that coils around his hardened member.
This little game was far too fun to end so soon and so Jungkook chuckles darkly as you stretch yourself open atop him, his digits tracing the sensitive skin around your hole despite the three fingers that are knuckles deep within you as he starts, “As for you, Jimin, I believe I said you’d need to beg for her if you want her that badly You do want her, don’t you?.”
The older man stops his movements at the referral of his name, his eyes glinting pleadingly as he turns his head to lay his cheek on the table, the bones of his hands pressing taut against the whitened skin he grips the sides of the desk with as he wracks his brain for anything resembling a coherent sentence and it is the sight of you with your eyes closed and mouth parted as you rebound up and down on your boyfriend’s fingers that has his own quiver in the wish to feel you himself as he swallows to comply, “I-I want her so bad, Jungkook. I’ll…I’ll do anything you want, but please, let me touch her.”
Jungkook seems to be satisfied with that as he nods, his irises blazing in acknowledgement as he demands, “Kneel for her, Jimin. That’s what all men eventually do for her and this precious little cunt.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before Jimin falls before you, his hands closing around Jungkook’s knees just inches below your own that squeeze your boyfriend’s thighs in a vise-like grip.
Need saturates his eyes and shaking fingers as he waits patiently for Jungkook to give him the green light and like this, the view he is granted might just make him cum untouched in the way that Jungkook sinfully shears his fingers in your cunt as you come down on them in frantic sweeps of your hips, his hand entirely drizzled in your essence that glistens as if to tempt him in the soft light of the room.
He doesn’t realize that he’s salivating like a fucking dog until Jungkook gruffly commands into the shell of your ear that he flicks his tongue against, “Open your eyes, babygirl. I want you to see how fucking desperate you’ve made our little Jiminie. God, you’re fucking hot, doll. I’m so damn hard for you right now.”
Not wanting to disobey him, you let your lids flutter open, your breath catching at the sight of the pretty boy that is on his knees for you. His once perfectly styled hair is tousled after he runs his hand through it, his tongue darting between his plush lips as he stares at you like you’re food he wants very badly to eat.
And how you’ve wanted him to do just that for weeks, though you know deep down that Jungkook would always take you to the seventh heaven without fail.
Your hips stutter yet again at the visage of him when you lift your head, one of your hands lifting so that your fingers can trace the outline of his shapely mouth. You are slow to make contact with his lips that are softer than a feather yet rival those of the Bratz dolls you’d play with when you were younger. He relishes in your touch and even leans into you as if to grant silent permission for more and when you run your digit down his lower lip to watch it snap back up against his teeth, you moan at the thought of what it would feel like if he-
Your hand is suddenly pulled away as your boyfriend’s long fingers enclose themselves around your wrist as he brings your arm back to marionette it behind you and when he brings your palm down on his weeping member that sobs for you even through his trousers, that’s when you suck in a breath whilst the fingers on your throat release you to grasp your chin so that your head is turned to the side, your visage instantly being pushed back to him as he gives a devastating blow to your pussy through the twist of his fingers in your cunt to have you whine out when he jams them inside you.
“I believe I taught you to wait for my approval before I let you do anything, didn’t I, babygirl?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disobey,” you try even knowing that the last time he went unheeded by you, he’d left you on your bed to finish yourself off with your own hand.
“And yet you did, baby. Do you think you deserve to cum now?” your boyfriend inquires, his fingers slackening inside you to have you whimper when he extricates them from you only to bring all three digits to his lips, his tongue laving at them as his eyes scintillate with fervor to have you clench around nothing and Jimin watches the way your essence oozes out of you without Jungkook to clog you now as your boyfriend’s irises simmer hotly into yours that he trails down your body and everywhere his gaze goes, the ire of fire is stoked in every crevice of you as he decides, “I think you need to be reminded of who really owns you. Take my cock out, babygirl. Do not make daddy wait.”
With your back still flush against his chest, it’s hard to fight past the haze of arousal that clouds your mind. Your boyfriend knows this just by peering down at you and, taking pity on your afflicted state, he helps guide your hand to where his zipper is. With how unbelievably large he is, you don’t need to search for his cock in its obscene girth and lewd length. You don’t have to work at it his zipper for long, for it opens to you easily and really, you can’t think too much on the fact that he’s not wearing any boxers underneath his pants as his cock springs free and your fingers slip along it until you hold him in your palm.
He’s heavy in your hand with the blood that engorges his member and your walls contract at the way his veins all but bulge out against your hand as you drag your hand down all the way to his base before gripping him to earn a groan from him that you swallow down your own throat when he draws you forward into a French kiss that leaves your tongue numb in how roughly he sucks it into his mouth.
When you’re on the verge of losing what little breath you had left and you squeeze his cock, that’s when he releases you to rasp, “Good girl. Now, sit the fuck down on me and ride me.”
Needing no further prompting, you raise yourself off him to line yourself up with him and when you sink down onto him and welcome him into your wet warmth, your head falls forward in the lack of ability to hold it up anymore, your mouth dropping open with the way that he fills you so wholly and completely that there is no room to think of anything but him.
It is a lucky thing indeed that you have a birth control insert so that you don’t have to worry about anything in times such as these and it is pure bliss that pangs through every corner of your body the moment he finds his home inside you and you can only repeat his name with how deep his cock is lodged inside you.
Below you, Jimin raptly observes how your boyfriend disappears inside you as you start to grind atop him, your hips eagerly canting him as he sits back and enjoys the show.
“P-please, Jungkook, can I?” He questions, not caring at this point what Jungkook will let him do so as long as he can do something.
“You know, you do have some really pretty lips, Jimin,” Jungkook considers, his irises burning into Jimin’s own in the view of him he’s given with your head down between your shoulders as you unthinkingly sweep your hips over him to have him grunt, “How about you kiss her with them?”
A shaky breath trembles as it is dislodged from between Jimin’s lips, your eyes irises drawn to the source of the sound as you gaze into eyes that widen bigger than a Boston Terrier’s and you don’t have time to process what has just been said before a familiar hand wraps around the underside of your breast, a groan falling from your boyfriend’s mouth at how supple your skin is between his fingers as he holds one breast as if to offer it to the older man, your nipple hardening as his digits that have been chilled by the cool air cause goosebumps to raise themselves up over you.
You watch as Jimin’s sight becomes entirely transfixed by the way that Jungkook’s hand completely closes around your tit whilst you continue to gyrate your hips atop him, a wantful moan releasing itself from your throat when Jungkook leans forward to take the clasp of the necklace he bought for you between his teeth as he pulls it back with him so that you follow him when he seats himself against the backrest of the chair once more.
In the movement, your breasts sway while you pirouette your hips around Jungkook and, as if to entice Jimin, your boyfriend swirls his thumb around your areola that puckers itself out around the cold digit that draws itself around it.
Jimin makes a sound akin to a wail and it’s what has Jungkook smirking wolfishly behind you as he taunts, “I bet it must be so difficult to just sit there and watch her get fucked so well, isn’t it? You want her, Jimin? Kiss her.”
You observe the way that Jimin’s tongue swipes itself along his lips and the blonde haired man before you does not need to be told again before he slants himself forward and, all in one movement, opens his mouth to take the breast your boyfriend holds inside it.
“Ah…please,” you whimper as his warm lips heat your cooled skin and your boyfriend chooses that moment to constringe his fingers around your breast to the same time that Jimin’s agile tongue flicks along the underside of your tit. His mouth and tongue are smaller than your boyfriend’s, but you’re beyond the point of caring as both men make it their motive to please you.
When your boyfriend plants hot kisses to the tip of your spine right under your nape and below the fastener of the necklace he’d just been tugging on, Jimin seems to notice and suddenly, he’s hollowing his cheeks as he suckles from your tit like a newborn babe.
You splutter as your waist stammers atop of your boyfriend once more as he drives his hips into you, a grin lifting at his features as Jimin hums in satisfaction at the way your flesh melds around his mouth, the vibrations shooting like an arrow straight down to your cunt as your boyfriend impels himself inside you with a powerful thrust that had been drawn from the bow of his own hips.
It’s enough to have you keen, one of your hands lifting behind you and back to tangle in the roots of your boyfriend’s tresses while your other cards through Jimin’s locks as you encourage both of them while you plead, “Please, don’t…don’t stop. I’m getting c-close.”
“What are you guys fucking doing to her? She sounds like she’s about to break,” Taehyung comments against the slick sounds of his hand fastening its pace along his length as he chides, “Jungkook, it’s rude to ignore your superior when he’s asking you questions.”
“You should consider it a privilege that I am allowing you to be part of this at all considering that you tried to take what will never be yours,” Jungkook groans when you pull at his hair while you swivel your hips erratically over him as you turn your head to the side to peer at him with a gaze that appears as fucked out as he will soon feel and he makes haste to attach his lips to the spot beneath your ear, his tongue darting along your sensitive skin while Jimin doubles his efforts on your breast to have you whining and when your boyfriend releases you, his other hand latches onto your neglected breast, his fingers expertly tweaking your nipple between them to have your own fingers tightening along your boyfriend’s thigh at the same moment that your walls contract around his member in warning whilst he amusedly discloses, “Since you’ve you been so complacent today, however, I think I will be merciful and let Jimin, your dear best friend, explain.”
With your breast still in his mouth, Jimin’s eyes have become clouded by the lust that hazes them and Jungkook grins at the sight of the elder man’s ruin while he manages, “I…I’m sucking at her tit, Taehyung. Jungkook was right. They’re so soft in my mouth,” he draws shapes along your areola as he swallows and it’s only when you let your fingernails trail along his scalp that he is coaxed into continuing, “Jungkook is, well… she’s riding him and facing me so that I can see everything. You’d probably c-come if you saw this, Tae. She’s…she’s absolutely heaven in my mouth and her pussy just keeps swallowing Jungkook like it can’t get enough of him. It’s hotter than anything we’ve ever seen at the s-strip club.
“Good boy, Jimin. So obedient for me. You may have your reward now,” Jungkook grunts while you bear yourself down on him at the same time that he slams his hips up into you all while he gropes at both breasts in his mission to have as much of you as he possibly can before he instructs, “Kiss her where she needs us most, Jimin. Taste her for yourself and see how fucking divine she is and understand why all men eventually get on their fucking knees for this cunt of hers.”
The sounds of sluiced skin reverberate through the phone that lays innocently on the desk despite the sin unfolding around it and Jimin does as he’s told like the perfect little student and before you realize what’s happening, he liberates your breast from his mouth and delivers devastating osculation down your chest in flurried busses amidst lips soft as snowflakes as he descends down your body slowly.
Your own movements atop your boyfriend’s member quicken in the rapid anticipation driving you back and forth on him and when you watch him pause his ministrations when he gets to the apex of your thighs, for you are entirely fascinated by the way that Jimin draws his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at your sex that greedily clings to your boyfriend’s dick.
When his eyes roam upward and he meets your own, something flares in them to stoke the already fierce fire within you and when you curl your fingers in his locks to encourage him toward you, he relinquishes to you as if he’s merely your own plaything that you can do with as you wish.
When his mouth finally affixes itself to the bundle of nerves that sit above your glistening folds, you cry out as your cunt closes around your boyfriend’s member, your fingers tethering onto them both as your thighs begin to tremble once more in the attention that is lavished on you between them.
Your boyfriend’s fingers find themselves winding around your neck once more as he draws your back against his chest and he croons, “Are you close, my love? Do you want Jimin to help you cum on me?” He hums when you nod frenetically to say, “I bet it must be really difficult not to let go and get daddy all dirty with your cum, huh? That’s alright. I’ll let you finish on me soon, but first,” his fingers constrict around your throat as he breathes into the shell of your ear, “What did I tell you that you need to do when you want something?”
Language lurks somewhere in your addled brain and, as if to save you from punishment, Jimin lightens his ministrations to your cunt and instead airily pecks at your clit as you search your mind for what your boyfriend wants to hear.
The longer you take, the more compactly his fingers curve around your throat and it’s when the hand still around your breast possessively squeezes you that breathe the air that begins to threaten to enter your airway as you respond,” Words, sir. You have taught me that I need to use my words to get what I want.”
“That’s my girl. You’ve been so good for daddy, haven’t you?” He asks as he propels his hips into you in a harsh sweep of his hips that you readily receive as your walls welcome him.
“Yes,” you suspire when his fingers release you around your throat to dive down and rest on your hip as he eagerly pulls you back down on him to earn a whimper from you, “I want..want to cum on you, daddy. Will you let your babygirl have her release, please? Want it so bad. Want you so badly, sir.”
“Mmm,” your boyfriend hums, “I like it when it you beg for me. Since you’ve been so well behaved and let daddy do whatever he wanted with you, I will give it to you,” he says between kisses down your spine that his own bones will allow him to grant you before he straightens and speaks up, “Jimin, take her into your mouth once more, but this time, make love to her with your lips while her boyfriend fucks her tight little cunt, yeah? I want to see if she’ll squirt for us.”
Jimin does just as he’s told, his mouth closing around your clit at the same time that your boyfriend crams himself inside you whilst his hand whorls around your areola as you squirm atop him. Jimin is tentative in the way he brushes the bundle of nerves with his tongue, but your boyfriend is surefire in the way he pistons himself up into you, your cunt fluttering around him in warning as you blurt,” C-close, Jungkook. Please-“
“Cum all over me, babygirl. Get daddy all fucking wet and cream all over these pants that you fucking ruined because you need me so bad,” your boyfriend declares, both of his hands reaching for and trapping one breast in their hold as you fuck yourself over him before he husks, “Let Jimin see how good you are for me, doll. Show him how much you love my cock by coming around me and soaking me in your sweet juices, baby.”
It is with a devastating swipe of Jimin’s thick tongue against your clit while your boyfriend tweaks your nipples between his fingers as he drives his hips purposefully into you that you throw your head back, your eyes rolling as you careen off the edge of the release you’d been dangling over for so long. It hits you like a watery wave that cascades over you and you scream out your boyfriend’s name as your walls swell around him and he throbs inside you while your walls clench repeatedly in their need to keep him locked within you until the last of your release has deluged you.
Your essence pours down from the rainforest of your sex and you don’t know how long your womanhood ebbs and flows with it as your body is flooded with endorphins that liquifies your insides as Jungkook fucks you through it whilst Jimin sucks at your clit without pause, his tongue lapping at your sopping center that is doused with your taint like he’s a starved man eating away at the delicatessen that is you.
“That’s it, babygirl. Let him taste how fucking delectable you are,” your boyfriend croons, his lips securing themselves to your exposed shoulder to bring your flesh between his teeth as he too suctions you within his mouth as he coos, “She’s getting me all wet, isn’t she, Jimin? Does she taste as good as she looks? Come on, tell me, pretty boy.”
Jimin releases you once he runs his tongue between your silken folds, his entire chin smeared in your essence as wipes it away with the back of his hand before licking away at that which has soiled his own skin as he peers with a hooded gaze up at you to confirm, “She’s sweeter than honey, Jungkook. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pussy that appetizing. I…I could eat her out all day.”
“Of course you could,” Jungkook amusedly replies, one hand settling on your hip to still your shaking limbs as his aching cock sobs for more within you, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your side while the digits of his other palm fondly trace the blooming petals of red and purple marring every inch of your throat and shoulders as he muses, “And what of you, babygirl? Did daddy take good care of you?”
“Yes,” you try between labored breaths despite the way you lean into your boyfriend’s wandering fingers, “You treated me so well, sir. Felt so amazing.”
Your boyfriend watches you lay your head back onto his shoulder, a smirk rising along the edges of both lips in amusement as he observes how your eyes flutter closed, your body sagging back against him despite the cock that is still lodged balls deep inside you.
“I do hope that’s not all that you’ve got to give me, babygirl,” Jungkook tells you, the fingers along your nape ascending until he’s grasping your chin to urge your head to the side so that you stare into his simmering irises that are quick to light the fire of desire within you anew before he darkly declares, “because daddy’s not done with you yet.”
Your breath hitches at that and Jungkook finds it adorable that your eyes manage to widen so largely while Jimin’s own just about bulge from his head at the insinuation.
“D-daddy, I don’t know if I can take it,” you hardly manage to get out before he roughly consumes them himself, his mouth attaching to yours and drawing what little breath you had left away from you as his tongue glides across your lower lip before he nips at you in punishment.
When he pulls away, you’re left entirely breathless as he taunts, “You will do what I tell you to because you want to please me, don’t you? You say that you can’t handle more, but you’re the same person that begs for my cock every night because you’re such a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?”
“I…” You trail off when his irises dip languidly down your body until they souse themselves where you are still connected to him and underneath that, the collection of your slick that you’ve deposited over every inch of his nether region.
“Cat got your tongue, baby? Or should I say cock got your tongue because of how needy for me that little cunt is?” He asks with a flick of a dark, sculpted brow.
Despite the release that has just washed over you, you find the tide of lust soaking you through with each word he speaks, your core dripping even more of your essence onto the pool of it that has accumulated over Jungkook.
Jimin only looks on in rapt interest, his own cock quivering with the want that strikes him through at the spectacle of you spread open atop of your boyfriend.
“Did she get off on you, Jungkook? Shit, that’s got me hard again,” Taehyung curses through the phone that had long been forgotten by you and Jungkook in the rapture that had befallen you both.
“She did, Taehyung. She loved it, too,” your boyfriend affirms as you nuzzle him affectionately before he chuckles at your adorability, “She’s ready for round two now, I think. Jimin,” Jungkook’s blackened irises sear into the elder man’s, “You are to go to the couch over there and strip for her, but keep the tie on. Once you’re done with that, lay down on your back and wait for my precious doll to come to you when I tell her to. Got it?”
“I-I understand.” Jimin responds as he stands, his knees sore from being on them too long as he leaves the two of you and begins divesting himself of his attire much to none of the notice of the both of you.
Jungkook allows you to nudge his neck with your nose, your warm breaths tickling his skin and when you make the mistake of shifting, he hisses, “Careful, baby. You wouldn’t want me to take you right here again, now would you?”
You lick at your lips while you stare openly at his, the hand that still is entrenched in his tresses sliding down to cup the base of his neck as you apologetically blink up at him to admit, “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know you didn’t, petal,” he caresses your cheek with the knuckles of his hand before he helps you off of him only to turn you around in his lap, his still hard cock springing back against his chiseled abdomen and it is only when you face him that he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear to praise, “You’ve been so good for me, baby. Do you want me to give you a reward?”
“You already have, my love,” you whisper as you lean forward to kiss the freckle beneath his bottom lip that you love so much before you tell him again, “You already have.”
“So wonderful for me,” he adulates as he cups your cheek and runs the pad of his finger along it to utter, “Wanna make you come again, beautiful. Will you let me?”
You nod, your own hand taking his tie between your fingers and twirling it around them as you bite your lip, “You already know the answer a thousand times over, Jungkook. I want to please you, too. Can I?”
The hand on your waist wraps around you to pull you close so that you hover only an inch or so away from him and he groans at the way your hand closes around the base of his member to stroke him tortuously, his eyes flashing perilously as his own fingers enfold themselves around you to hold you in an iron hold as he husks, “You want to make me feel good, baby? Fine. Take off this shit covering my chest. I want feel you against me when I fuck you so good you’ll beg for me never to stop.”
The ire of desire blazes at that within you, your fingers quickly moving to unknot the tie wound around the base of his neck. You make quick work of it, for you’d been the same one who had put it on him this morning after he’d taken you in the shower and bed. The coat is next and he has to let go of you for a tormenting amount of seconds that drag on agonizingly slow in the loss of you, but once you get rid of the suit jacket he’d had you pick out for him, the black dress shirt is mercifully the last piece of clothing that separates you from him.
You salivate as you pop open the buttons that had already been opened down to the middle of his chest and with each iota of flesh kissed by the sun that is revealed to you, your salivary glands reproduce within your mouth to birth even more spittle as you hurriedly undo the fastenings of his garment. When the last button has been unsecured, that’s when you wet your lips amidst the aridity of desire that has dried them, your irises drinking him in as if drunk off of him as hunger coils low in your stomach.
Muscle cords every inch of him and the six pack that proudly ridges itself along his abdomen boasts its vigor in the way that they jump against your fingertips that lightly trace along the tautened skin that is so eager to receive you against it.
You push the shirt open thirstily amidst your throat that suddenly has become dryer than the Sahara desert as your irises roam upward to pectorals that must have been crafted by the gods in the thew of musculature that surrounds them.
His darkly colored nipples stand to attention as you draw your fingernails over them to earn a growl from him as he takes both hands and pins them behind your back in one of his own while his other coaxes your chin up as he lifts your head so that you have nowhere to look but his eyes that burn with want into your own as he warns, “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to handle myself. Don’t you want to play with Jimin? If you want to toy with me instead,” his voice hardens as your walls contract around nothing, “I’m more than happy to entertain you myself.”
You whine at his restraint and he simply clucks his tongue at you, “ I know that it’s hard to control yourself around me, babygirl, but wait just a bit longer for daddy, okay? Look,” he urges you to peer over at the couch that presents Jimin to you both and the man lies on his back as he’d been instructed to, his hand on cock as he palms at himself while he watches the two of you, “he’s waiting for you, doll. See what you’ve done to him?”
You can only whimper at the sight of the erect dick that sticks out of the pants he’s left open, his own coat long discarded with his dress shirt to leave only his black tie that dangles just before his cock. He’s about half the size of your boyfriend (of whom has the most monstrously made cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of having inside you), but you have not a care in the world about that as you observe the precum that he swirls around the head of his member, his eyes hooded as he gazes at you and calls for you, “Y/N…please…”
You hardly realize what you’re saying before the words leave you in stilted whisper, “Want you both. Want you to fuck me so well like you always do while I play with him, daddy,” you pull your sight away from Jimin to glance back at your boyfriend who is smirking cockily as you ask, “Can I have your permission?”
“Since you asked so nicely,” Jungkook ghosts his lips along your jawline, “go ahead, baby. Go warm yourself up on him and get ready for me, yeah?”
“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily whilst he attaches his mouth along the edge of your maw and flicks his tongue devilishly against you before pulling away to help you up, the hand that had been holding your own prisoner releasing you to find the zipper amid your backside only to pull it open, your skirt sliding down your legs to puddle around your feet.
You thank whatever force of nature had made you decide on your white lace thong for the day because Jimin’s gasp from behind you is audible to your ears as you preen at Jungkook’s own hitched breath that is fast to deepen into a growl as each thumb hooks under the sides of the panties he’d bought for you, his irises dilating at the sight he’d been denied when he’d been fucking you earlier.
“Can’t believe you were wearing these for me, babygirl. You really do want to tempt daddy into losing his fucking mind over that pussy, huh? Such a fucking whore for me,” he rasps as he pulls the pearled strings of the panties apart so that they too join your skirt on the floor as you rub your thighs together amid the finger he slides between your glistening folds, your own hands finding his shoulders and clutching onto him as you moan, your head falling back as he rubs his digit along your slit.
“Only for you, Jungkook,” you tell him as he spreads your legs apart with his other hand whilst the one currently nestled between your folds drags along your labia.
“As you should be, baby,” he announces as he collects your juices and brings two fingers to his mouth only to suck on them as heat floods your core at the damning view of that as he groans at your succulent taste, “Now go and prepare yourself for me. Rub yourself on top of Jimin’s little cock and when I’m ready, I’ll join you.”
He waits for you to take a step away from him, your knees buckling under you as your weight makes them wobble after what your boyfriend has allowed to be done to you and before you have time to let fear grip you in your descent toward the floor, his hands are there to grasp each side of your waist to steady you whilst your own grapple for each of his wrists as you cling to him for support.
A strong chest melds itself to your back once more as he chuckles, “Everything okay, baby?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it, doll,” he lowers his head to whisper hotly into your ear, “When I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to walk, let alone stand, my love. Now, hurry along,” he ushers you forward and watches you stumble forth amidst the heels that you kick off in effort to reorient yourself with using your feet, a grin rising along his lips as he takes in your cuteness before his eyes flick down to the phone still sat atop his desk, “You’re being awfully quiet over there, Taehyung. Has the masturbation brought you that much satisfaction while you imagined it was my girlfriend that you were trying to fuck?”
“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Taehyung huffs in annoyance.
“Brat? Is that what you call the man that let you listen in while he fucked his soon to be fiancé? Interesting,” he muses as he runs a hand through his hair, his tongue poking against his cheek in visage that is not missed by you, your heart fluttering at the words he’d many times uttered to you in the tender aftercare of passionate lovemaking and you smile at that despite the gruffness to which your boyfriend speaks with next as his irises find and melt into yours, “Such an ungrateful prick that you are, Taehyung. Since you want to act like a dick, I think I’ll just leave you to trying to keep your own hard while I ravage my girlfriend. How does that sound for being a brat?”
“Jungkook, do not hang up on me,” Taehyung cautions, “You’ll regret it. As co-founder of this company, I can take her from you.”
Jungkook growls, his jaw clenching at the same time that you sex contracts around nothing as he ticks his head to the side in a habit you’ve grown fond of whenever he’s especially unappeased with something as he bites out, “You dare to threaten me, Taehyung? You have the audacity to challenge me for what has always been mine and that which fucking ran from you and into my waiting arms when you tried to make advancements on my fiancé? You’ve just awoken the fucking lion, co-founder Taehyung,” Jungkook spits out, “Try me and you’ll get the fucking claws. She is mine and I decide where she goes, got it?”
“Such a child,” Taehyung laughs mirthlessly from the other end.
“Such a fool,” Jungkook jabs, “to lose to the likes of a child that will now ravish what you’ve sought after for years and yet, she chose me. She’ll always choose me.”
“Jungkook, if you end this call, I’ll-“
The man never finishes his sentence, for Jungkook terminates the call with the press of a finger, his chest puffing out in a show of virility that has you wanting to whimper for him as his eyes lift from the screen to your own to raze your insides with heat of a wildfire as he demands, “Get on Jimin right now before I change my mind and take you home to screw you senseless into our bed until I’ve fucked all this irritation out of me.”
Desire flares in your sex as you quickly plant both hands on Jimin’s much narrower chest and swing your leg over him until you sit astride him on the couch, your irises pulled into the magnets of your boyfriend’s eyes that attract you so even when you’re straddling another man.
He stalks forward towards you and, needing to relieve some of the knotted tension between your thighs, you shift and seat yourself over Jimin’s smaller cock, your mouth parting as you rub yourself along his length only to plead for you boyfriend, “Jungkook…more. Come to me, please.”
Your voice wraps around your boyfriend like cool water on a stinging wound and, promptly, the anger that had begun to well up within him is drained by you as you implore him with begging eyes whilst you drag yourself over Jimin’s hardened length and Jungkook is helpless to watch as Jimin’s veiny member slides between your still sopping folds as you draw yourself along his dick.
The elder man stays quiet, his hand rising to cover his mouth to stifle the sounds he’d make so as not to bear the brunt of whatever Taehyung had done to Jungkook, for he knows full well that Jungkook could snap if you do not completely calm the storm that had begun to brew within him.
Your boyfriend looms ever closer and, like a predator to its prey, he stands tall above your much smaller body as his irises distend over you and he devours the sight that is you as you work yourself over Jimin and lather him in your essence. His already rearing member prods at your hole on one particular sweep of your hips over him and your boyfriend catches the way your breath is shakily exhaled from you as you peer up at him and only him, for you do not dare to look away when he’s looking at you like you’re a five course meal he’d eagerly eat.
And gorge himself on you he does, because in the next moment, he’s behind you and sitting on his knees as his fingers spread your ass apart to reveal a puckered hole for him. His dick twitches at the thought of what he will soon do, one finger tracing the rimmed entrance that borders the back of your ass and when his finger is replaced with his mouth, that’s when you moan only for him to shove his tongue inside you as he suckles at your asshole.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight even after the many times I’ve fucked you right here. Relax for me if you want my cock, Y/N. You want it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathe, “want it so much, sir. Please, give it to me. I’m ready.”
Jimin, utterly enticed by the way your breasts bounce in your movements, leans up to take one in his mouth while your boyfriend opens you up for him, your walls rigid at first yet soon they soften to grant Jungkook greater access as he preps you.
The tight ring of muscle around Jungkook’s tongue loosens around him when Jimin dances his tongue along the floor of your tit that he welcomes into his mouth, pleasure lighting you up inside like dynamite as you buck your hips over the elder man’s length.
“You’re not ready if daddy has to work this much to get you to open up for him, baby. No matter,” he hums even with his tongue still stuck inches deep within you to send vibrations at sonic speed to your core as he goes on, “I don’t mind fucking you with my mouth if it means you’ll be able to take my big, fat cock.”
When Jungkook pushes in a finger to join the tongue that swirls around your asshole, that’s when your back bows inward as he strings you like the puppet your body is for him around his digits, his finger curling inside you devastatingly as his tongue whorls around it to have you stutter, “P-please. Don’t want to wait for you anymore, daddy. Need you inside me now.”
“You want something to fill that little cunt of yours?” Jungkook’s tongue extricates itself from you only for two fingers to take its place beside the one he’d already put into you as all three scissor you and you can only make a choked sound until he orders, “Then try and see if you can fit Jimin’s fucking dick inside it and keep his cock warm until mine joins it in your fucking ass.”
Your boyfriend’s fingers shear into you with precision as you obey, your fingernails biting into Jimin’s pecs as you align yourself with his thinner cock and finally sink down on it to sit obediently on top of him in wait of your boyfriend’s next set of instructions. When your boyfriend takes you like this, usually you feel like you’ll burst with how large he is and how wholly he fills you. Jimin, however, is a miniature version that is much easier to maneuver yourself on without the colossal member attached to your boyfriend that you’ve known to satisfy you for so long now.
Jimin’s eyes shut as he releases your breast from his mouth only to litter the underside of it with light kisses. He’s careful not to mar your flesh with his mark, for you do not belong to him and he knows that doing so will only stir Jungkook’s wrath later on, so he chooses to be wiser and avoid that as your hips still upon the final inch of him that you seat yourself on as Jungkook’s hands grip your sides roughly for leverage as the three fingers he’s plunged in you are impelled into you in forceful motions that have you whining in want of him.
“You listen so well, baby. Your ass is so fucking tense, but I guess it’s been a while since I fucked you back here, huh? I’ll have to keep it in mind to put my cock in your ass more often, I think.” He draws his fingers out of you, his fingertips grazing your walls on the way only for him to propel them roughly within you as you fight the urge to ride the man beneath you as Jungkook asks, “Are you ready for me? I don’t think I can wait for you any longer, baby. I’ve been without you for long enough.”
“Please,” you beg as you present your ass to him the best that you can while you’ve got a dick nestled between your netherlips, “Want you so badly, Jungkook. Let me have your big cock. You always take me so well with it.”
The words have hardly left your mouth before the fingers inside you are pulled out, the tip of his well lubricated dick prodding at your hole as his fingers tighten along your sides for him to apprise, “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop until you’re milking the dick inside you while you beg for the mercy only I can give to you. This is your last warning.”
You feel the shift of the couch behind you as your boyfriend rises to his knees, his tip poking at your hole as he hovers over you.
Your hand closes around his wrist as you look back at him to offer, “I won’t stop you. I won’t ever stop you, my love. Do it. Let me feel you inside me once again, for the absence of you is too difficult to bear,” you release a sigh of satisfaction as he inches himself inside you as you breathe,” I yearn for you, Jungkook. Let me have you.”
You watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken as he taunts, “You want me, baby? You can fucking have me.”
With that, he plunges his cock into you without pause, a slight burn searing your walls as he stretches you out with his member as you cry out his name. You’re jostled atop of Jimin in the power that Jungkook sheathes himself into you with, your sex riding Jimin’s member without either of you doing anything in the aftershocks of what Jungkook quakes your body with as his teeth bite at the nape of your neck whilst he pummels you ruthlessly.
Pleasure pangs through you as your boyfriend rocks into you from behind and, wanting Jimin to do something to quell the need that smolders within you, your fingers wrap around the tie still draped around his neck as you pull it so that he’s made to sit up as you narrow your eyes, “Fuck me, Jimin. Let me see if you can please me like my future husband can. No one has ever made me feel as good as he has. Show me what you can do to me, Jimin.”
He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the movement and when your boyfriend thrusts violently into you to have your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jimin’s irises set determinedly before he impetuses his hips within you to have you moan out for them both.
“No one fucks you like I do,” Jungkook hisses as he rams into you, your fingers constricting around the tie as you inhale the same air that Jimin releases in what little space settles between your lips as you bounce on the blonde-haired man while your boyfriend grunts, “And when I have you in our bed later tonight, I’ll make sure to fucking remind me you of that. The only reason he’s here right now is because I can’t say no if it means my babygirl will be happy.”
You bob atop of Jimin as Jungkook continues to pound you, his dick far too little for your cunt that has become too used to the fullness of your boyfriend who splits you open every time he’s inside you and you whine in desire of more, your forehead resting against Jimin’s as you release his tie and drag his hand up so that it envelops your breast, his tiny fingers a stark contrast to Jungkook’s much longer ones as they stroke your supple skin while you part your lips for him and wait for him to take the offering you give to him.
“Kiss me, Jimin,” you plead, your other hand laying itself over his cheek amidst the jerking field of vision your boyfriend wracks you in as you breathe, “Let me prove to him that your lips are as pretty as they look.”
“My…my lips are pretty?” He swallows as you nod and he meets you willingly with soft, plushy lips that are soft as pillows against you and he’s much gentler than Jungkook as his tongue tentatively drapes itself over your own as it asks for entrance and when you grant it, his warm muscle dances with your own to the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart, his digits splaying themselves over your breast to rub soothing circles into them as he holds you close, your whimper taken into his mouth as your hips rotate atop him so that his length brushes the very edge of the cluster of nerves deep within you that your boyfriend aids in pushing him further into you with alongside the shove of his own cock into your ass.
Jungkook swivels his own hips into you while he watches Jimin tilt his head to the side to receive you, the two of you soon becoming enraptured with each other as he traces your lips with his tongue whilst you nibble at his bottom lip.
“Keep going, Jimin, you’re making her feel good,” Jungkook husks.
With each kiss, Jimin seems to grow bolder, his lips soon traveling southward as he busses your chin and then down the column of your throat as you lift your head to give him access. He’s sure to let his tongue brush your flesh as he goes, your core clenching around him when he laves his tongue over your nipple that you lower into his mouth.
“That’s it, Jimin, keep going. She’s getting wet again, isn’t she?” Jungkook inquires, one hand dipping from your side so that his fingers slide through your soddened folds as he groans, “Fuck, she’s so wet for us, Jimin. She likes what you’re doing, doesn’t she, babygirl?”
“Ah-“ you gasp when he attaches his lips to your abused breast, his tongue lapping at your nipple as he you gyrate your hips atop him before Jungkook pounds into you once more, “I like it so much. Your mouth is so much better than I ever thought it would be, Jimin, fuck.”
“I’m glad you think so, Y/N,” he mouths from around the tit that is presently within his mouth, his lips caressing your sensitive skin as he says, “You don’t know how long I thought about doing this,” the hand that still enfolds your other tit warmly kneading at it as he licks at your hardened bud to continue, “You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you here, how much I wanted to feel you like this.”
“Consider yourself lucky that I’m the one allowing you to do what you are to her, Jimin. If it were any other man she’d asked me to do this with, I’d have said no. Want to know why?”
“Why?” Jimin mutters against the slick ‘pop’ that his mouth makes as he relinquishes your breast only to focus on the other, his hand draggling down your stomach to catch on the press of his cock against his palm from within you as you moan when he bucks up into you as Jungkook burrows brusquely inside you.
“Because,” Jungkook smirks knowingly at the blonde-haired man as he damns you with his cock through a devastating blow of his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping sluicing the air around him as Jungkook confesses, “ You’re the only male that’s been around her for more than a week and not succumbed to her fucking charms that she likes to cast on just about everyone that owns a dick.”
“It’s not my fault,” you pout and Jimin takes the opportunity to sweep his thumb under your lip as you turn your head into his touch so that he swipes his digit along your lip that you eagerly pucker your lips against in a fleeting kiss to his finger before you take his wrist to tug it down the line of your chin and along the column of your throat until he’s descending among the valley of your breasts while Jungkook jostles you forward and back. When Jimin’s fingers nurture the bud of nerves hedging the garden of your pussy, you moan, “How can I be blamed when I don’t even do anything but get their cocks wet for me, daddy?”
“It’s all a game to you, isn’t it? God, you look like a fucking ragdoll with how rough you’re being handled, babygirl,” Jungkook says as he slams his hips into you to give a grunt, “Of course it’s your fault when you look like such a pretty little toy that they want to fucking break. You only opened your seams for me, though, yeah?”
“Yes, Jungkook,” you laboriously get out and it is only then that you feel your boyfriend’s chest press down over yours, his arms falling forward to cage you into the solid plane of Jimin, your own breasts falling over the blonde-haired man’s pectorals as you as you’re melded to lay flush against him. Your hips jerk when Jimin’s cock grazes the clump of nerves deep inside you at Jungkook’s powerful ministrations, your mouth dropping open and your eyes fluttering closed as your breath hitches, “O-oh…Jimin…”
The blonde-haired man’s cock twitches inside you at the mention of his name, but in the following moments that Jungkook screws you without abandon, he watches your face contort into one of unadulterated pleasure as he whisks his middle finger over your clit that has become engorged with the blood that pulsates needily for him and the male above you. It is a wonder that the space between your bodies is just small enough to allow him this and he touches you like you’re a glass figurine while your boyfriend fucks into you like you’re his puppet.
“Jungkook, you should see her. She’s so hot. Shit,” Jimin doesn’t know he’s said what he’d been thinking aloud until there’s a dark chuckle that consumes any other sound as it emits itself from between your boyfriend’s lips as he rails you against the elder man and when Jimin drives his hips into you the same way he’d seen your boyfriend do to meet him halfway in reducing you to a mess of limbs between their chests, you give a guttural scream that has the windows around you shaking in the shrillness pitching your voice that has them threatening to crack.
“Ah, there it is,” Jungkook husks, his hot breath drifting over the crook of your neck as he teases, “I’ve got you screaming for me just as I promised I would,” his tongue laves at the nape of your neck before teeth nip the tender spot as he forges forward into you all while Jimin ogles you from beneath him as your boyfriend utters, “What of my other vow to you, baby? Can you fucking tell which direction is which or have I turned that upside down, too?” You shake your head as he plows into you, your world spinning as he corkscrews himself within you as he taunts, “Can you even remember anything beyond my name anymore, doll?”
Your walls clench around Jimin, who hisses at the sudden succumbing of his member to your sex as you’re knocked repeatedly into him like the pendulum of a seesaw, one side of your thoughts swinging to the other as you try, “J-Jungkook…Jimin …I-again…n-need-“
“Mmm,” Jungkook hums,” She’s close. She can’t even fucking talk anymore. Jimin,” black eyes raze his own, “let’s wrap this up, shall we?”
“What,” Jimin swallows as he watches the way your digits quiver around him as he skillfully skims his finger along the bud of nerves cresting your sex and your chest slides against his in the sweat that slickens you along him, the knot of pleasure deep in your core tightening just as your own hand does over the blonde-haired man’s wrist whilst your other grabs onto the twisted nodule of fabric at the base of his neck in your effort to hold onto something as you whisper his name pleadingly and Jimin is helpless to give you what you ask for at your glassy eyes that so resemble a priceless statuette as he adds a second finger to join the first to stimulate the button decorating your treasure as he asks, “what can I do to your beautiful little doll, Jungkook?”
“Look at me while I fuck you, babygirl,” Long fingers curl around your jaw as he turns your head to the side so that you’re granted a glorious view of them both, your breath hitching at the way beads of sweat clamping to thick strands of tresses black as a raven’s wing falling perilously over your boyfriend’s eyes that glint dangerously at you, his own lips red as a rose from biting them too much as he snaps his hips ferociously into you, a moan drawn forth from you at the sight of him in combination with the frisk of Jimin’s shorter fingers along your clit as your boyfriend smirks, “As for you, Jimin, you may keep touching her where she needs it. I’m going to help you ruin her needy, pretty cunt and when I do,” you skin pebbles when Jungkook’s hot breath billows over it as he orders, “You’re going to damn her with your cock at the exact moment I decimate her with mine. Understand?”
“Can she handle that, though? What if she-“ Jimin never finishes because Jungkook’s voice that is draped in certitude covers it.
She will take it because she was made for me and will do whatever I ask of her, won’t she, babygirl?” As if to prove a point, his cock converges with your sex, your nipples poking into Jimin, who makes a choked sound as you rake your fingernails through his hair as satisfaction strikes you through whilst Jungkook’s fingers constrict just enough so that your attention does not stray from him and look away from him you do not when a familiar calloused thumb joins the two of Jimin’s that had been measuredly swiping themselves over your bud as Jungkook flicks a brow up in expectation, “Come on, baby. Tell Jiminie here that you can take it for daddy.”
“J-Jungkook,” you implore with a nod, for the only language that you can possibly speak at this point is his name as he rocks into you while his thumb circles languidly at your clit alongside Jimin that are slower and softer in their ministrations, your eyelids drooping amidst the dark bliss the heavies them.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praises and you preen at that, a dopey smile crossing your features in the vapors of lust that have settled over you while Jungkook’s thumb fastens its movements to reward you as he commands, “Jimin, match your pace with mine, yeah? Playtime is almost over for this one.”
Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice with his own end on the horizon. With determination that twines itself through his eyes, his two digits that he has attached to you mirror Jungkook as if your boyfriend is the puppeteer of you both. Jungkook swirls his thumb expertly along your button while he marionettes his cock into you with fervor and you clench as he licks his lips to husk, “So beautiful, doll. You look like you’re about to fucking break,” he gives a sharp shunt into you, his balls slapping against your ass as you clench around Jimin, a strangled sound coming from between his lips and Jungkook doesn’t have to be in your cunt to know that you’re just as near as Jimin looks to be with the way that drool pools along the sides of his mouth and, with a grin, Jungkook’s irises string from yours to the blonde-haired man’s as he winds you up around him and when he hastens his fingers over you to have you whimper, that’s when he orders, “Now, Jimin. Screw her with your cock while I fuck her with mine until she cums all over you.”
“Fuck,” Jimin curses, his hips twisting up into yours at the exact moment that your boyfriend deliciously drills his own dick with into your plushily lined sex as you’re reared against the blonde-haired man and geared like a fucking machine between the cogs of them both that grind into you and when Jimin’s cock throbs tellingly within you while your boyfriend stares down at you with danger flashing in pupils that dilate automatically for you, that’s when you fucking scream.
The glass rattles as your voices pierces the air around you while you’re battered like a stuffed animal between two rough children and Jungkook’s eyes strike you deep with the cocks that fill you up as they devastatingly pair their thrusts together and when your boyfriend’s fingers intertwine with the one you’d unknowingly been clutching at the couch with, that’s when he grunts, “Come on, baby. Want you to come for daddy. Can you do that for me? Can you show Jimin how beautiful you are when that pretty little cunt finishes all over his cock while you look at me?”
With the wind that is continually knocked out of you, all you can do is blink up at him in answer as you wrap your fingers around his at the same time the digits of your other hand tighten and tug at Jimin’s scalp only for the blonde-haired man to peer up at Jungkook as you’re dangled over the edge of your precipice once more, your walls fluttering in warning and Jimin, through irregular breaths that are drawn out of him in the rigorousness of his efforts, understands enough to let your boyfriend know, “She’s about to meet her end, J-Jungkook. Sh-She’s squeezing my dick. It feels so good.”
“Feels like heaven around your cock, doesn’t it? Of course it does,” Jungkook groans as he plunges himself into you while Jimin rolls his hips, your head falling forward so that your temple rests against Jimin’s forehead while your mouth parts as their fingers quicken against your clit as you moan only for him to husk, “Shit, you’re so good for us, baby. I think I’ll let you cum for me in a minute, but first, what do you say when you want something from daddy?”
Your mind has become wired only to the pleasure that pangs through you with each sweep of their cocks within you, but somehow, you wrack your brain to find the only other words that you know always appease him to pant, “Please, Jungkook…n-need you.”
“That’s it, baby,” he rasps as your boyfriend runs his finger ruinously between Jimin’s own digits that draw shapes into your button and when Jungkook’s digit suddenly drags itself in hard figure-eight motions along it to the same time that his cock cataclysmically crashes impossibly deep into your ass, that’s when you’re thrashed against Jimin. The elder man perfectly times the buck of his hips into you so that his cock arcs against the clutter of nerves hidden precariously inside you, your irises jerking over the him before they’re threshed to your boyfriend that lodges his cock once, twice and then three more times within you to finally command, “Cum for me, babygirl. Get Jimin all fucking soaked because of what I let him do to you. Give me your fucking orgasm, doll. Give it all to me and let him watch you, yeah?”
With the sin he spews, you release is swift to unravel you as you come undone, your walls spasming violently over Jimin and he hisses at the way you contract around him as if to pull him in, his own end quick to follow yours as your sex shudders around him amidst your trembling thighs that shake with the rest of your body as you shriek shrilly, your fingers constricting around Jungkook’s own as you hold onto him for dear life.
When Jimin shoots a hot rope of seed inside you as his member twitches erratically, you hardly have time to moan at the sensation of it before your boyfriend possessively curls an arm around your front to pull you up and against his chest as he sits back on his heels to have Jimin’s own dick slip out of you and the other man throws his head back against the armrest of the couch to stroke himself needily as he hastens to replicate the feel of you around his member while he continues to spill all over himself amidst the pool of your own juices that you’ve splashed all over his dick.
“You’re mine,” Jungkook’s other hand releases your own to wrap around your throat so that your head falls back against his shoulder as he crazedly crams himself into you again and again, the palm on your abdomen resting where his much larger cock pokes against it before trailing up to grab one breast as you whine while your own orgasm still forcibly strikes you through in unending sparks that electrify you as your boyfriend powers into you from behind before he growls, "Let him fucking see you fall apart for the only cock that you'll ever love, baby. You belong to me. Say it."
“Y-yours, Jungkook…yours,” you cry out and it is that that has your boyfriend descending into his own end as he gives a guttural groan that you engulf when he urges your head to the side so that you can swallow the sound through the attachment of your mouths and he keeps his sealed against you until you kittenishly slide your tongue against his lower only for him to open his mouth to you and suck your tongue, along with any remaining air that you had, between his lips as he feasts on you until you have no oxygen or saliva left to give him.
Jimin observes it all, heat stirring in his abdomen as he rubs furiously at his softening length that even now still oozes with the cum both you and he have drenched it with.
Infatuation influxes the blonde-haired man at the way desire rings itself around the corner of your eyes from you in the cords of pleasure you’d been fibrously instilled with whilst Jungkook holds you close, your brows scrunching together as you bite your lip between your teeth in the aftershocks of your orgasm as your chest heaves over your boyfriend’s, the petalled marks that Jungkook had left over you blushing your flesh in your labored breaths.
It’s captivating as a current and Jimin is pulled asunder for you all while Jungkook watches the emotions ripple across the blonde-haired man’s face, amusement lifting at your boyfriend’s lips at how easy it had been for you to capture yet another man in the palm of your hand.
When Jungkook carefully extricates himself from to lay back on the opposite side of the couch with you still in his arms, he chuckles to himself as you silently nestle yourself against his side to snuggle up to him, one arm draping over his chest as you peer adoringly up at him while he makes room for you beside him to entwine his own limb around yours as he croons, “You’re so adorable after you get fucked, baby. Always have to cling to me afterward, huh? You know,” he traces the marks he’d left behind and you sigh with satisfaction as he does, “You’re cute, petal. Have I told you that today?”
“Mhm,” you purr as you turn on your side to give innocent pecks to his chest while your eyes close as fatigue pulls at them and you affirm, “All the time.”
“I think someone’s a little tired, doll. Do you want me to carry you to the car?” Jungkook asks as he brushes an especially red mark that has purple smearing itself around it and you lean into the touch as a smile lifts at your lips while you stare at the brands he’d left on you.
“’S fine. I can stay awake a-“ you yawn, your mouth opening only a little as you stretch your arms out before settling back next to your boyfriend –“little while longer.”
“Yes, you sound awfully convincing, don’t you?” He teases as he sits up and you immediately whine until he laughs and helps you onto his lap as he urges, “I think it might be best to take you home now, baby. You’re about ready to fall asleep. Help me zip myself up, will you?”
Responsive to him as ever, you tuck his member away before fastening his pants so that he looks presentable should someone see you and when he tucks you inside the blanket you’d hand-stitched and made for him for his birthday, you link your hands around his neck as he cradles you, his irises softening as he peers down at you while you whisper, “Thank you.”
The double meaning is not lost on him as you have always said those words whenever he’s done just about every single thing for you and he drags his knuckles along your cheek as he offers, “You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”
You giggle as you beam up at him with the toothy smile that still has his heart flipping in his chest to let him know, “I do. Do you know that I would do everything for you?”
He kisses you along the tip of your charming little nose as he nudges at your cheek, “And how could I ever forget that?”
He carefully swaddles you in the fluffy fabric until you’re completely covered and all the while, his fingers lovingly caress your sides as he gathers you up and stands with you swathed in the safety of his arms. With his attention captured by your irises that swim with devotion for him, he starts moving forward and with his back to the other man that still is splayed along the couch, he glances back to say, “Ah, and I did not neglect to acknowledge that you’re here, too, Jimin,” he winks, “You did well. I can tell she enjoyed herself. I’ll be in touch. Please make sure you lock up, for I have more important things,” he peers back down at you with affection crinkling his eyes for you, “to attend to.”
Jimin waits until the two of you vanish until he allows his own lips to lift out of joy born from watching such domesticity manifest itself in the form of two individuals that clearly were in love with each other with the way the emotion had so colored both of you and, with that emotion lifting his own heart, he dresses and locates his phone amidst the piles of clothes (both yours and his) that had long been forgotten.
Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to walk, Jungkook had decided that foregoing your outfit would be best and so, as he carries you through the halls like the bride you will soon be to him, he smiles as he gazes tenderly at you, your eyes closed as you snooze comfortably in the cushions of his body as he holds you.
You sleep peacefully in the passenger seat of his Mercedes S-Class Coupe and he glances at you every so often, your skin glowing amidst the emerald greens and ruby reds your skin shines with under the traffic lights as the city passes by in a whir with the constant to it all being your slumbering figure that gives him so much strength and stability in a ceaselessly churning life.
You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen even from the first time you’d caught his eye and now, after so much time has passed, you still remain the most priceless jewel to ever gleam for him amidst the dull, dim passersby that pale in comparison to your transfixing bright light.
When he’s pulled into the quiet mansion that stands tall in front of the richly hewn garden you have tended to that borders an impressive watering fountain that cost him thousands, none of it holds a candle to the treasure he takes into his arms as he withdraws you from the car and gently brings you upstairs. He’s careful not to make sound so as not to wake you and when he sets you smoothly on the bed, you do not rouse until the sound of water from the shower in the adjoining master bathroom trickles over your ears.
You divest yourself of your covering in search of the kind of warmth only your fiancé can grant to you and when you join him in the shower, he welcomes you and washes your hair before his hands trail along your body to clean that, too. You sigh in satisfaction as you thank him once more and with some insisting on your part, you do the same for him even in his concern that you might be too sore to do so. Mindless touches turn into something not so sinless as your hands wander along his chiseled figure that has the power to have you salivating with only one glance.
He’s hesitant at first because he knows you ache from the strenuousness of the night’s illicit activities, but in your want to reassure him that you are not as fragile as you appear, you fall to your knees before him and take him into your mouth, his groans heating you up as you rut against his leg while you suckle him. You eagerly devour his seed that you’ve come to love so much when he is ready to feed you and once he helps you rise from the ground, he’s sure to give you a kiss that would rival that of the one in the most beloved romance story before he dries you both against your ailing and feeble legs that are weak for him and when he sweeps you off your feet once more, he still kisses you like his hunger will never stop its craving for you.
Even when he lays you down like you’re a glass doll that might shatter if he’s not careful, he still treats you like a piece of art as he looks at you reverently whilst he makes love to you amid your breathless admissions of love for him while he fills your canvas with his seed until he can give you no more of his paint to taint you with.
And when the breeze blows against your sweat sluiced skin as you lay over him, your chin resting on his sternum while you innocently let the pad of your fingers brush his chest, he asks you, “Did I please you tonight, my love? Did you have fun?”
“Sweetheart,” you press your mouth to the dip between his collarbones before you breathe, “whenever I am with you, those two things are always a given.”
His heart dances in his chest at your admission and the fingers that skim your sides splay out to hold you closer as you stare fondly at him.
“Such a wonderful girl for me. Have I told you how perfect you are for me lately?” He questions, his thumbs drawing shapes into your skin as he goes on, “I don’t know if I have or not. I suppose you’ll have to remind me.”
"Every morning," you brush your lips against his own in a soft kiss before you pull away, "and every night, my love. Not a day goes by that you don't tell me that or how beautiful you think I am," you smile at him.
"It's because it's true. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and this, "he holds up the phone to show a text from Jimin you’d both missed in the middle of your lovemaking as he kisses the crest between your brows, "was for you, pretty girl. Whatever you want, I will always give it to you."
"You're too good to me, Kookie. I really am so lucky to have you," you caress him, your knuckles tracing his jawline as you stare tenderly up at him, "You've always been the best for me and when we marry," you coax him toward you and he heeds your urging fingers along his maw as he meets you halfway to connect your lips to his own, but this kiss is one that he takes control of and you let him, your lips parting for him as his tongue dips low into your mouth to reclaim every contour of you in his touch before he disconnects from you for you to vow, "I enjoyed messing around with Jimin, but once marriage binds us together forever, I will love you and only you until the end of my days. No matter what, I will always yearn for you."
"God, I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you and put a ring on your finger so that everyone knows that you’re all mine," he ardently declares as he rests his forehead against yours to breathe in your air as he confesses, "They say that happy marriages look to the future and not the past," he lays back and brings you with him so that you're lain across his chest, his heart beating to the same rhythm as yours as he grins, "but baby, you are what I want my time to be filled with. You're my past, my present and my future and what we have together, my beloved flower, will never wilt."
#btsbookclub#bangtanarmynet#ksmutclub#btsguild#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#dom!jungkook#sub!jimin#dom jungkook#jungkook smut#jimin smut#bts smut#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts scenarios#hot jungkook#jksource
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𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷 | 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 [22]
Summary: You finally go to the studio with Mingi and Jongho and maybe Seonghwa isn't as scary as you thought...
Genre: social media au
Word Count: 2k
a/n: lowkey a filler but it's important for the next few chapters
You nervously looked out of the window as you, Mingi, and Jongho drove to the studio to meet up with Hongjoong.
You haven’t talked to him in a few days since the two of you kissed and you hope it’s not awkward. You don’t think it’s going to be but you never know until you’re in the same room as him.
“Y/n.. take a few breaths. It’ll be okay. I’ll try to be with you as much as possible, okay?” Mingi let one of his hands fall on your thigh as he squeezed it to comfort you.
“I would comfort you too but I don’t trust Mingi when he’s driving so…” Jongho pats you on the shoulder.
You’re ready to tell Mingi to just drop you off on the side of the street but before you were able to contemplate it any further, Mingi pulled into the parking lot. You look at Mingi with a pout, “Hey it’s okay. I’ll be with you as much as I can, yeah?”
Mingi had his arm wrapped around you as he led you to Hongjoong’s room. The door was opened and you took a deep breath as you walked in, “Hongjoong!”
With Mingi’s voice, Hongjoong turned around with a smile, “Mingi! It’s nice to see you again.” His eyes shifted to meet yours and you immediately looked away, “I’m glad you could make it, Y/n.”
You nodded with a soft smile as Hongjoong took you into a hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly and you almost don’t want to let go. It was only when Hongjoong rubs your side softly and whispers into your ear you feel at ease, “Hey, it’s okay. Seonghwa is gonna be late… and there’s no reason for us to be awkward, yeah?” Your grip on Hongjoong tightened before you nodded and pulled away.
You made your way to sit on the sofa as Jongho and Mingi sat with Hongjoong. You scrolled on your phone for a couple of minutes as you listened to the three of them talk softly about lyrics.
Right as you were about to all Mingi, the door opened. “Oh my God-” You immediately looked down to avoid all contact possible. When you look up, Seonghwa is standing in front of you and you immediately stand up, “Y/n! Nice to see you again.”
You let out an awkward laugh as you greet him. You were ready to bow but your entire body stiffens as Seonghwa pulls you into a hug. You let out a noise close to a squeak and Jongho laughs at your facial expressions, “Y-Yeah. Nice to- Nice to see you again.”
Hongjoong smiles at the two of you before leaning in to whisper in Mingi’s ear. You pull away from Seonghwa and your entire body is tingling. Seonghwa smiles at you and your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your ass, “Mind if I sit with you?”
“Oh- uhh… nonono it’s okay. Here uh-” Everyone in the room watched you with amused expressions as you hurriedly grabbed your things to make room for Seonghwa.
“S’Okay. I don’t bite.” Seonghwa patted the seat next to him. You were still stand up as you looked around awkwardly. You immediately look towards Mingi and he looks as if he’s about to burst into tears from laughing so hard. He nods his head and you sit down while trying to hold in your laughter. You can’t believe this is happening.
You sat next to Seonghwa quietly as you looked down at your feet awkwardly. The three boys went back to talking so it was just you and Seonghwa. “So how did you meet them?”
You watched Seonghwa point to Jongho and Mingi. “Oh… we’ve been friends since we were little. I met Mingi when we were like 6 and then later we met Jongho when we were 8. I guess we’ve been friends since then so I’ve been here for their entire music career so…”
You look at the two of them with a smile and then back at Seonghwa, “That’s nice! I wish I had friends like that. The closest I have is Hongjoong over there, Yeosang, and Yunho. Do you know them?”
“Yeosang and Yunho?” Seonghwa nods, “Yeah. They’re both cool- I mean obviously I’ve never met them but…”
Seonghwa laughs softly but nods, “They are. I guess Hongjoong is too.”
“Hongjoong is! I think Hongjoong is really cool. Look at him… The way he dresses makes me jealous.” You pout but laugh soon after. You feel a large weight lift off of your shoulders as you feel a lot more comfortable.
“Do you want to go get some coffee or like something to eat?”
You blink at Seonghwa for a couple of seconds, “Like right now?”
“Yeah, Come on.” Seonghwa flashes you a smile before patting your knee. You stand up and look at Mingi with wide eyes like you’re asking for him to save you, “Hey we’ll be right back. Do y’all want anything?”
“I do! Go ahead and get me and Jongho an Americano.” You nod at Mingi and Hongjoong agrees.
Seonghwa guides you out, “We can go to the coffee shop next door. It’s really good, we go there all the time.” You stay quiet as you follow closely behind Seonghwa. Once you get outside it’s extremely crowded and your eyes widen as you’re suddenly worried someone will see you out with Seonghwa.
You grabbed onto Seonghwa’s arm as people crowd around the two of you and cameras flash around you and in both of your faces. Seonghwa pulled you towards him before the two of you pushed into the shop.
You weren’t fully able to comprehend what happened until Seonghwa brushed you off, “Are- are you okay?! I didn’t expect- I’m sorry. Are you hurt?”
You looked at Seonghwa with wide eyes before you slowly shook your head, “No- no I’m okay. I just didn’t expect that…” You hurriedly let go of Seonhwa with an awkward laugh, “Sorry-”
“I’ll go ahead and order… do you want anything else?” You shook your head as Seonghwa went to order.
What the actual fuck is happening. Your out getting coffee with Seonghwa?? And got mobbed by crazy fans???
You move to sit down at one of the tables and you watch Seonghwa as he orders. He smiles brightly at you as he brings a sandwich, “Here you go. I know you said you didn’t want anything but we can share.”
You nod and look down as you try to hide an obnoxiously large smile. He hands you your coffee as well as he sits down in front of you. You take a bite of the Sandwich that Seonghwa handed to you before you choke with wide eyes as there’s a flash right in your face, “Did you- Did you just take a picture of me?!”
Seonghwa’s face mimics yours as he looks just as surprised, “Yeah- sorry. I-” Seonghwa laughs loudly, “I didn’t know the flash was on.”
Your hand flings on your mouth as you start laughing, “Oh my- I mean- It’s okay.” Seonghwa’s face flushed in embarrassment, “So uh… does that happen often?” you refer to the mob that was outside.
Seonghwa shakes his head, “No! And I’m really sorry that happened! This is the first time this has happened in like a good 6 months… whenever we go back just stay close.”
The two of you sit in comfortable silence before the rest of the drinks are finished. Seonghwa wraps his arm around your waist and you tense up. You hold onto Seonghwa tightly as the two of you leave the cafe.
Almost immediately cameras flashed in your face and people crowded around you and Seonghwa. You attempted to hide your face in Seonghwa’s arm as he pulls you closer to him. You can hardly focus on your surroundings because the only thing you can feel is Seonghwa’s touch.
Your eyes were squeezed shut and you let Seonghwa guide you before he whispered softly in your ear, “It’s okay. I got you. We’re almost there.”
Songhwa hurriedly types in the password before the two of you push it in. Neither of you let go of the other but you pull your head away from his side and clear your throat. His arm is still wrapped around your waist and you’re still gripping onto his shirt as the two of you walk back into the studio with the rest of the boys.
Once you walk in all eyes turn to you. Mingi and Jongho have big eyes and you look at them with even wider eyes. You pull away from Seonghwa and take the drinks from him, “Here you go.”
Mingi stands up and pulls you with him as he sits on the sofa. He pulls you on top of him to sit on his lap and wrap his arms around you. Hongjoong and Seonghwa watch the two of you for a minute before looking at Jongho with a puzzled look.
Your arm is wrapped around Mingi as he whispers in your ear, “What the fuck was that?”
“We got like mobbed- he’s a celebrity, remember?” You whisper back and Mingi pushes you gently as he rolls his eyes.
“You were getting mobbed on the entire walk back into the room?” Mingi raises his eyebrows at you.
“Well no… but- but like I don’t know?!” You and Mingi both burst out in laughter and you throw your head in his neck.
“What did I tell you? You and Seonghwa…” Mingi wiggles his eyebrows seductively as he makes a kissy face at you.
“Stop! I can‘t stand you! Now be quiet and what about you and him over there…” you tilt your head to Hongjoong as you exaggerate winks, “He’s nice isn’t he?”
“Bye- get off of me.” Mingi jokingly pushes you off of him before pulling you back into him, “I mean yeah but is he… ya know…”
You swallow harshly as the image of the two of you making out pops in your mind, “I don’t know? Maybe he- I‘ll find out for you.”
Mingi’s eyes go wide, “No!! Don’t like ask- I don’t want him to think I’m weird or anything!”
“Hey, Mingi-“ Jongho had called Mingi so you slid off of his lap. As Mingi moved, Seonghwa took the place next to you.
“Hey uh… I don’t mean to like jump to conclusions or anything but you and Mingi… are dating or…?” Seonghwa leans in close to you as he whispers.
You completely stop in your tracks as you look at Seonghwa with a puzzled expression, “Sorry?! Me and Mingi?” you literally laughed in his face, “No- I mean we joke with around but he’s- uh… we’re just friends.”
“Oh okay cuz it looked a little bit… yeah and then you and Hongjoong so I was a little confused.” Seonghwa’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth slightly parts.
You immediately turn to look at Hongjoong, “Right- me and Hongjoong… You know that was like nothing right? The heat of the moment and like we talked about it so like.” Your face gets hot and you stand up, “Hey uh, I have to go.”
“And you’re going to get home how?” Mingi raises his eyebrows at you.
“Seonghwa take her home.” Hongjoong pipes up and reaches for his keys in his pocket.
“Nonono it’s okay. I can call someone…” You attempt to stop Hongjoong but he successfully gives his keys to Seonghwa. You stand awkwardly before you take Hongjoong and Mingi into a hug. You ruffle Jongho's hair before you and Seonghwa walkout.
Seonghwa guides you through the back door and the two of you go into Hongjoongs car, “I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything, did I?”
You shake your head, “Nonono. I’m just tired. It’s nap time.”
Seonghwa laughs softly, “No I totally get that. Naps are my favorite. Um but I wanted to tell you that I’m having a party- hang out this weekend with a couple of friends and I wanted to know if you wanted to come? Mingi, Jongho, and the rest of your friends can come too, of course.”
Your eyes widen, “Oh! That seems like so much fun… if it’s not a burden of course.”
“Of course not. I’d love to see you there.”
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#promise#ateez#ateez social media au#ateez smut#ateez fluff#social media au#smut#fluff#kpop#kpop social media au#kpop smut#kpop fluff#kim hongjoong#hongjoong#park seonghwa#seonghwa#jeong yunho#yunho#kang yeosang#yeosang#choi san#san#song mingi#mingi#jung wooyoung#wooyoung#choi jongho#jongho#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa smut
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the lost princess of terrasen
rowaelin month - september 7th
prompt: fairytale au - (an anastasia au in this case)
important: okay y’all so i went way overboard with this entire au and it got out of hand so now this might just be a full-blown thing. however, with that whole releation and me going crazy with outlining and writing i could really only have this much of the story out and ready for today but i plan on continuing it!! hopefully after rowaelin month. enjoy this little introduction :)
(cw: brief descriptions of violence)
masterlist, AO3
~~~
At freshly 18, Celaena Sardothien was free. She’d aged out of the orphanage and was finally released to go live her own life, no longer held down in the outskirts of Rifthold. Celaena didn’t want to wait a second longer, the need to leave the horrid place she’d lived the last ten years was ingrained in her bones.
The woman who ran the orphanage, Clarisse, was cruel. From a young age, she poked at Celaena, commenting constantly on her weight or how she didn’t act like a proper young lady. Her entire life up until this point was spent at the mercy of Clarisse and her stern ways. All the girls in the orphanage were treated as maids and dolls for Clarisse to manipulate. But, Celaena made it, counting down the days until her birthday.
Now, here she was, stuck out in the cold. She’d imagined her freedom to be more alluring than this instead she was shaking as she wandered through side streets that led to the heart of Rifthold. She carried with her a backpack barely full of her meager belongings and the too-thin coat on her back. Clarisse didn’t even spare her a hat to keep out the cold so she moved her hair to shield her freezing ears the best she could and waddled along the snowy pavement.
She still had her kingsflame necklace around her neck, though, and that’s all that mattered. Where she had gotten it from she hadn’t a clue. The first memory she possessed was waking up in the very orphanage that would become her prison. Clarisse explained to her that she’d hit her head and a nice man named Arobynn had brought Celaena to Clarisse to be cared for. Clarisse questioned her about her family and upbringing relentlessly but Celaena could not recall a thing. Her mind was blank. For many nights as a young girl, she’d sit upright in the creaky, lumpy bed she occupied and willed herself to remember. She’d cry and scream, banging her fists into her head in frustration when nothing ever surfaced.
The only connection she had to whatever life she lived before was her kingsflame necklace. And she’d follow that kingsflame to the ends of the continent if it meant she’d one day solve the mystery of her existence.
Which led her to the first stop on her journey of discovery, Terrasen. Once Celaena had accepted that her memories weren’t coming back and this was the life she’d have to lead she adjusted. She served Clarisse and went to the small, dilapidated school down the street with the other orphans. There she discovered her love of books and the meager library the school offered became her sanctuary. It was there while she read a book on the kingdoms on Erilea, hoping something would strike her familiar she learned that kingsflame flowers only bloomed in one place, the capital of Terrasen, Orynth.
As a child that discovery was a revelation. Terrasen. Maybe she was from Terrasen.
As Celaena walked she felt her toes growing increasingly numb, Adarlan’s winters were bitter and she was not equipped with the proper wear. Her teeth chattered but she pushed forward, she needed to get passage to Terrasen.
She drew the map out of the pocket of her coat once again and checked the status of her journey. Only a little longer until she was at Rifthold’s main dock station.
The city of Rifthold was big and Celaena felt out of her depth as groups of people swarmed the streets walking to and from their different destinations. It was overwhelming, the smells, the tall buildings, the weather, the noise, the sheer number of people, everything.
Eventually, she saw the lights of the station and she blew a sigh of relief, she hadn’t been very confident in her ability to read a map. She approached a man sitting in a booth behind a sheet of glass, smoking a cigarette.
Celaena stepped up to the counter.
“Hello, sir, I’d like to buy a ticket to Orynth,” she gave him a smirk, leaning casually on the box. She’d learned from many years of coexisting with Clarisse and a revolving door of people that to make it through life you needed a mask. Celaena had crafted her mask carefully and had perfected her act after so many years. She exuded arrogance and confidence so that another soul would never see the scared, lost little girl she truly was.
The man grunted, blowing a puff of smoke from between his cracked lips. “Do you have your papers, girl?”
Her brain stalled. Papers? She cleared her throat, “papers?”
“Yes,” his scratchy voice replied, “you need papers to cross the border.”
Celaena’s heart sank but she kept her expression neutral. “Well, I-”
“Listen, girl, I’m not going to sit here and waste your time so don’t sit here and waste mine. If you don’t have the right documents then I can’t sell you a ticket, simple as that,” he held the cigarette between his teeth.
She searched for some way to turn this situation around, chewing on her bottom lip.
From the shadows a little ways into the dark alley adjacent to the docks, she heard a hissed whisper. “You, blondie,” an old woman emerged slightly from the shadows, beckoning Celaena forward with her index finger.
Celaena looked around, the man in the booth was already back to ignoring her, his nose stuck in a newspaper so she decided to approach the woman. She didn’t have much to lose and Celaena thought if it went south she could take her.
Celaena crept closer, tightening her grip on the strap of her backpack.
“You need papers?” Her voice was hoarse as if her throat was made of sandpaper. Celaena nodded her head keeping her guard up, watching her surroundings out of her peripheral.
“I know who can get you some,” her face morphed into a slight smile that unsettled Celaena more than anything. Celaena furrowed her brows, “who?” The woman tsked at her, her hot breath forming a cloud in front of her face.
“That kind of information isn’t free, my dear.” Celaena had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, everything came with a price in this world.
Celaena reached around to the side pocket of her backpack, fishing out a few coins she had to spare. She’d saved just enough from doing odd jobs to pay her fare to Terrasen. She deposited the coins into the palm of the old woman’s hand, her knobby fingers running along their smooth edges.
“Go a few streets north and into the red brick warehouse with the large windows, you can’t miss it. Ask for a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn, he’ll get you the papers,” she instructed, hoarding the scant sum of money she was given as though they were priceless heirlooms. Celaena turned her head in the direction the woman directed as if she could spot the warehouse from here and by the time she rounded back the woman had disappeared once again.
Celaena huffed and shot another glance at the ticket man, he was still paying no attention, tapping his cigarette out with his finger. She didn’t necessarily want to go on a wild goose chase to obtain these papers but she had no other way of getting them so she breathed deeply and shoved her hands into her pockets and twisted north.
The woman was right about not being able to miss the warehouse. It was a large, old, imposing structure, clearly, it had not been in use for some time now. Celaena crept closer peering into the foggy windows as she passed the front of the building. She couldn’t see anything and was unconvinced she’d find the elusive ‘Rowan Whitethorn’ inside.
Nonetheless, she approached a rusting metal door on the side and pushed it open with her gloved hand. The door protested but it miraculously opened revealing a wide area stacked high with boxes along the walls and corners.
She ventured further into the space, dust and broken glass crunching beneath her boots. She didn’t see any signs of life besides maybe some rats. As she neared the opposite corner what could’ve been a makeshift sitting area came into view, blocked from view initially by a stack of boxes. She approached noting the circle of crates, a dusty blanket, and a few books piled on the side.
She peered at the title of the book on the top of the stack.
The Royal Family of Terrasen. Mixed emotions surged through her body.
“Who’s in here?” A male voice boomed nearly rattling the windows. Celaena shuttered, letting her bravo fill her bones as she heard a set of footsteps enter the space.
+++
Rowan Whitethorn’s life since the fall of Terrasen and the reign of the Valg had been a hell-hole, to put it bluntly. His family fell out of status, his parents were slain in the ambush on Orynth’s castle, and Rowan was left in an unfamiliar land at twelve years old.
A sect of the Whitethorn house had been visiting Terrasen’s court for the holidays when Maeve made her move against the continent. Doranelle crumpled first to her rule and Terrasen followed, the army of Valg she’d amassed was too large to stand against. Adarlan only survived because King Dorian bowed down to Maeve.
Even now at twenty-two, he has nightmares about that evening. The terror he felt as Valg poured into the ballroom and slaughtered the royals. The terror he saw in the princess of Terrasen’s eyes as she was shoved into the kitchens by her nursemaid where Rowan had happened to take shelter as well. He was scared too, running as soon as his father screamed at him to as the Valg slit his throat. He regretted it deeply, leaving like a coward when the palace was invaded. He regretted the cowering he did in the kitchens as well but when the young princess had burst in the doors, tears flowing freely down her cheeks something had come over him. He had pushed her out into the snow yelling at her to run and she did, scrambling to find her footing.
The rest was a blur, the Vlag hurried into the kitchens soon after but somehow Rowan made it out with his life. The same could not be said for many people in the castle that night.
Now, Rowan lived in Rifthold as a thief and doer of other’s dirty work. He longed for the day he could get out of this city of nightmares crawling with Valg. One day, he promised himself, one day he’d have to funds to make it back to Wendlyn and witness what had become of his home.
There was an opportunity, though, that’d heard about from whispers on the streets. Aedion Ashryver. One of the few survivors from Terrasen’s downfall. He chosen to stay in Terrasen’s territory afterward, the country had no real structured ruling now. The old King-Consort Darrow was the closest thing there was to a king but from what he’d gathered the man is old and weak, not the same after the death of his husband, King Orlon. Terrasen had virtually crumbled.
Somehow, Aedion had built up the Bane and gained standing for himself. A standing he was using to campaign to find his long-lost cousin. How Maeve hadn’t gotten wind of Aedion and his plotting and squashed him, Rowan wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, Aedion was offering a hefty reward for the return of his dear Aelin, the nation’s true queen, convinced she was still alive.
Rowan thought the operation was useless. Her body was never found, that was true, but he imagined she’d likely fled into the Oakwald forest and perished from hypothermia not long after. If he could make a pretty penny from returning the ‘princess’ to Aedion, though, he wasn’t above doing so.
All Rowan needed was a young, blonde, and blue-eyed woman he could convince to join his cause and he could coach her to be the perfect replacement for Aelin. Truthfully, he wasn’t convinced this could ever be achieved but it was something he’d contemplated.
Rowan was making his way back to the warehouse he liked to operate his more shady business out of, the biting cold seeping into his clothes. The looming, muddy red-brick building came into view and he pushed the frosted metal door open. Immediately, he was aware that someone had invaded his space.
Small footsteps had disrupted the layer of dusk along the floor. His hand flew to the dagger strapped to his chest as he prowled further inside.
“Who’s in here?” he called out, gripping the dagger tightly by its handle. Once he got far enough into the space he could see a young woman was standing near his makeshift seats.
The first thing he noticed was she was beautiful. Long, golden blonde hair flowed down her shoulders, her skin was pale and her lips had a blue tint to them. Rowan pushed aside all those unsavory thoughts, she was an intruder after all. However, he couldn’t help but study her, she was dressed far too light for the dead of winter, not even a hat on her head.
She looked right back at him, accessing him as he was her. She didn’t look scared to have been caught trespassing, no, honestly, she looked annoyed as if he was interrupting her.
“Who the hell are you?”
~~~
let me know if y’all like it so far and would like to see more, xoxo
#rowaelin fanfic#aelin x rowan#rowan x aelin#rowaelin#rowan whitethorn#aelin ashryver galathynius#aedion ashryver#throne of glass#throne of glass fanfiction#rowaelin month#rowaelin au#rowaelin fanfiction
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non ducor duco | {m}
oneshot | historical! au | gang! au | 15.2k words
“The most notorious gang leader in Victorian London can gouge out the eyes of men, steal from the corrupted rich, and terrify an entire city, but cannot figure out a few complicated feelings with you.”
s u m m a r y >> the leader of the sons of seoul, the wanted criminal mastermind, christopher bang, has the courage to commit any deed save for confronting you, his most trusted accomplice, about his feelings. however, when opportunity arises, in the shape of an invitation to a grand seasonal ball, to take down his fated enemy, he takes you to the heart of a lavish estate, both of you unaware of actions that occur inside, and after the mission.
w a r n i n g s >> gonna be using chris instead of chan cause it’s set in 1860s london, chan is a dom of course, jisung and changbin are dumb and dumber, are also massive cockblockers, some cliché scenes cause i’m a sucker for them, sexual! tension!, gore, foul language, making out, dirty talk, aggressiveness, semi-public fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, chan has a thing for being called his korean name, whack spelling for ‘cum’ as ‘come’ cause technically that word didn’t exist in 1860s, there is a plot so there will be build up
a / n > > so i went way over the 10k originally planned lmfaoooo but i hope y’all enjoy this oneshot! i worked my ass off on it and hopefully y’all can appreciate gang leader chan in 1860s london cause honestly i’m a 100% whore for that concept
back to masterlist
IT WAS A UNIVERSAL LAW THAT ONE MUST NEVER FUCK WITH CHRISTOPHER BANG. EVER.
Whatever charge you may have against him, it must be withdrawn. Whatever he had done to you — robbed you, murdered your son, destroyed your entire existence — it did not matter. There were always limits, and trying to challenge this specific criminal would only result in your undoing.
It seemed the target, cornered before you and the very man himself, did not fully understand this order.
Chris Bang, in all his midnight suited glory, took a step towards the cowering man, the ends of his longcoat trailing him in the air. His gloved hands locked behind his back, a grave curve of his lips as he addressed his next victim. “Mr. Shaw, we know you have the documents.”
This said Mr Shaw hastily shook his head, raising his hands in immediate surrender. “Please, Mr. Bang,” he whimpered. “I have no inkling of what you speak of!”
“Don’t you dare lie!” You interjected, sliding out your knife, pointing it towards him. “We received reports of you. Don’t you dare forget the monthly checks we’ve sent for its safekeeping!”
“I was taking care of it, Miss!” He backed further, until the wall of his office stopped his escape. “They came to the office though.”
“Who did?!” You demanded, but the way Chris’s hand fisted in irritancy answered your question.
The Mayor had taken their shares. Once again, the tyrant had robbed them off their fortune.
“Mr. Shaw,” the man beside you started. The raw, dark matter in his voice had the owner’s eyes widening in pure fear. “Who was it specifically?”
“A really large man, about seven foot for sure…God, he had cuts all over his face, slight stubble,” he answered, knees slightly shaking. “Please, Mr. Bang, I have a family, children who have not grown—”
“Why is it that whenever man is at his weakest he mentions his loved ones?” A few stray locks escaped from Chris’ raked hair, caressing the ragged scar from his brow down to his cheek. “Why do you think that I’ll suddenly take pity because you have others who will mourn your existence?”
These questions had the man collapsing, leaning completely against the wall for support. You stole a glance at Chris, wondering if he was now capable of extracting the very souls from men. “Do not keep toying with me, Shaw,” he warned, leaning in slightly. “I know you have information.”
A soft, helpless whine escaped from the owner of the building. “Then-they'll kill me,” he mumbled, looking up at the criminal with desperation. It was a shame that never worked on a man with no sympathy.
“I can kill you too,” Chris countered, and in a flash a sleek, pocket knife appeared in his gloved hand, and hovered it right under Shaw’s chin. “So how about you tell me what you know, and I can prolong your imminent end, hmm? Does that seem fair enough?”
You almost felt sorry for the man. “H-his men…” tears formed in his eyes. “His men kept calling him Carter.”
“Brilliant,” you muttered. ‘Scar’ Carter, the Mayor’s link to the crime world, the dirty dealings of London. Carter, the lapdog of the socialites. The most irritating, disgusting son of a bitch you had ever encountered.
“I see.” The knife stayed, caressing the manager’s skin. “Now I know they’re to sell the documents. The bastard is greedy.
“Question is, Shaw, where is the transaction going to take place?”
Dear God, the man looked as if he was about to piss his trousers. “The ball.” He tried to gulp, but felt the curve of the blade. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a masquerade ball in a few days, and Carter already had a client. They’re going to do the dealing there, I swear on my children!”
A harsh scoff emitted from the criminal. “You better hope for the sake of your sons that you aren’t lying.”
“Did you get the invitations?” You asked, eyes darting around the dirtied room, the messy desks and chairs lopsided from your searching.
“Yes, yes!” He pointed to a set of drawers. “There are two in there!”
You walked towards the destination, opening the drawers and sure enough, finding the gold-edged enveloped, addressed to Shaw and his wife. “Are your names inside too?”
“No, just the envelope, but that is not important! I promise!”
You pocketed the invitations inside your coat pocket, joining your leader’s side again. Chris, after a minute of heart-wrenching silence, stood up, freeing Shaw’s neck from the knife, sliding it within his belt.
“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” His eyes were still upon the man when he said, “Let us return.”
The both of you were ready to leave when you heard Shaw’s sudden protests.
“The Sons of Seoul, everybody!” He declared, almost hysterically. “Coming in, fucking everything up, and leaving as if nothing had ever happened!”
Chris paused in his tracks, a quiet stillness passing over his whole figure.
“What are you going to do now, Mr. Bang?” He hissed, slowly sliding up. “Are you going to infiltrate the biggest ball of the season? Create a bloodbath on the dance floor? It’s what you love to do so ardently, no?”
You heard the harsh spit smack on the office floor. “Stop meddling with the business of the British socialites. Go back to the gutter you crawled out of.” The next words overflowed with hatred. “Go back to where you really came from, you slit-eyed prick.”
Your eyes flashed in shock, swerving around to see the raging expression on Shaw’s beady little face. Fisting your hands, you were ready to knock him out when you felt the man beside you move.
Chris whirled around, eyes promising a horrifying future as he pounced upon the manager.
A yelp was heard as Chris’ fingers dug at the corner of Shaw's eyes, and relished the cries of terror as with a roar of his own, he squeezed with his thumb and forefinger, swelling the balls of vision from their sockets. With a loud pop! the two eyes tore from their origins, gooey residue trailing down his face as Christopher Bang palmed the two organs in his hands.
He observed his victim bellowing in pain as he fell to his knees, hands covering his bloodied sockets. A ghostly smirk accompanied his lips. "Better slit-eyes than none at all."
You had to suppress the severe shivers that threatened to break your stance.
Shaw broke the universal law. His undoing was inevitable.
He flung the eyes upon the owner, and turned on his heel, eerily cool as he walked out of the office, blood and goo still on his black gloves. Not a hair ruffled upon his pretty head.
You spared a look at the victim, crying out in infinite pain, hands on his sockets still. “Do not fuck with Christopher Bang,” was all you said, before following the devil out of the building.
The afternoon London heat hit you as you exited the offices, Chris waiting as he examined the filthy streets surrounding you. People of all classes strolled by, beggars on the street asking for two-pence, children selling newspapers down the corners, and carriages riding away on the wide roads. The man still did not clean his gloves from the mess, and you pointed this out as you arrived at his side.
“It does not bother me,” he waved you off, but you brought out your leather skin.
“Bring your hands out,” you ordered.
Chris scowled. “I said I’m alright,___.” He began walking forwards, towards your humble abode, not far away from your starting point. “Besides, whoever strolls past us, they’ll second guess their evil intentions against us.” You glanced over the strange looking fellows, scattered across the roads. “Shows I am not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Dirty pig.”
You felt daggers glaring into you. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” you said, turning a corner, already catching sight of the docks. “I expect this behaviour from Jisung. Perhaps even Changbin, but not from you.”
“Enough with this,” the man ordered, irritancy clear in his voice. Grumbling, you walked beside him in silence, the Thames entering your vision. You wished it would have radiated a rich, clear blue body of water, but from the stench which even reached your nose, it would be impossible. The river, a dump for the sewers, the rubbish disposed daily, was a toxic mass of water, and the cause of thousands dying from drinking its contents. When you first joined the Sons you nearly drank from the river, being saved only by Chris’ rough hand slapping the cup away. You remembered you received a harsh scolding from him that day, immediately providing you with clean water after to quench your thirst.
A small smile curved onto your lips at the memory.
“Hand it over.”
You perked your head up to see his filthy, gloved hands out. “What is it?” You asked.
“The water.”An irritated sigh escaped him. “I’ll clean the bloody gloves.”
Your smile grew as you handed him the leather skin. “But only because I don’t ever want to be associated with Jisung and Changbin,” he added, and you only laughed, watching the man rub the mess off his attire as you both arrived at the docks.
The first sounds heard were not of the boats bellowing at port, nor the waves lapping in underneath the stilts.
No, all you were welcomed with was a string of curses, spat by Seo Changbin.
“You fucking bastard, how dare you—”
“Here we go again,” you caught Chris muttering, who quickened his pace, thundering to where the two of his sidemen fought, caught in a scrap.
Han Jisung’s whines were carried through the river air, burning into your eardrums. “Bin, no, I said I’m sorry—!”
When you caught up to Chris, he opened his mouth, exasperation clear in his voice. “Boys!” He exclaimed.
Immediately the fighting ceased. The boys addressed, Changbin atop Jisung, ready to throw the final punch, turned back to see his leader scowling. Jisung let out a yelp, throwing the former from him and scrambling to his feet. Changbin followed suit, a little more slowly after rubbing his side in agony.
“Why the fuck,” Chris started, pointer finger darting between his two men, “Are you both fighting again?”
Changbin, fixing his ruined locks with his hand, shot his best friend a glare. “He took my fucking scones again.” He groaned, much too loud. “God, I specifically stored them in a place where no one would find them, but this greedy pig still managed to snuff them out!”
Jisung, a slender and more comical figure, crossed his arms, raising his chin in stubbornness. “I did not see a bloody name on them! Tell me Bin,” he matched his opponent’s stare. “Did you write down your name with blood-red ink across the scones? Because I certainly did not see the words Seo Changbin scrawled on the surface!”
“Argh!” The elder of the two turned his raging gaze towards the leader, who was watching his subordinates with slight distaste. “Chris, permission to cut off his tongue for being the bane of my existence?!”
Chris only stepped past them, heading for the big wooden table situated near the gang’s warehouse. The sounds of ships sailing in the dirty waters thrummed to the port, shouting heard all around over new, imported goods. “Another time, Changbin,” he only said, bringing out a chair and sitting down, propping an ankle over a knee. “I have encountered enough organ slicing for the day.”
Jisung’s face twisted in awed curiosity, settling himself down beside Chris. “Without me?” he let out a disappointed whine, turning to you. “I trusted you, at least!”
“I was surprised myself, Ji,” you argued, raising a hand towards the aloof man as you sat opposite your friend. “I didn’t know Chris gouged out Shaw’s eyes until they were in his hand!”
“You truly are a selfish man,” Changbin complained, plopping himself on the last seat. “Alway keeping the fun for yourself and ____.”
You did not really know why your face flushed a little at his charge, but you made sure to whack Changbin in the gut, earning a pained groan from the boy.
Chris locked his hands upon the table. “Well, gentlemen, then it is time for you to join in on the entertainment.”
The two boys exchanged confused glances. On cue, you brought out the pair of invitations within your coat pocket, tossing them to the table. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a ball,” you explained, rolling your eyes at the boys tearing open the envelopes, yanking out the oblong, cartridge paper, details inked with a precise hand. “Since it does not have names, anyone can enter the estate.”
Jisung let out an excited yell, grabbing onto Changbin’s arm. “Binnie, we can actually have some fun!”
“Not so fast, boys,” Chris said, tightening his gloves. “The invitations are not yours.”
Changbin’s face immediately fell. “Are you fucking kidding me—”
The elder held out a finger, silencing the complaints, but not the quiet grumbling of his members. “As I was saying,” he continued, hands interlocking once more, “____ and I will use the invitations to get inside, with the two of you as our bodyguards.”
“Marvellous!” Jisung exclaimed, sarcasm practically dripping on his words. “Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic!”
“Jisung,” Chris warned, “How about you clean the shit off the docks instead?”
“Chan,” you murmured, causing him to glance at you. His sour expression almost softened at the word, the name which only few have ever said to him. You pondered at the time the two boys, sat to your right, tried teasing him with this name, and nearly earned an ass-beating. You, on the other hand, rather liked the way the name sounded on your tongue.
Perhaps, you wished dearly, he liked the way it sounded on your tongue too.
The man, after a pause, averted his eyes from you, focusing them on his comrades. “You both can still enjoy the festivities, but you have to keep a low profile, because while ____ and I are socialising and distracting the guests, you both need to find Carter.”
“Is he at the party too?” Changbin propped his elbows on the table. “Lord above, I’ve been wanting to kick his arse for a while.”
“So you both just frivol away, then?” Jisung whined. “I want to drink and dance!”
“And you both will,” Chris persisted. “We all will keep a lookout for Carter and his dealings, and if any of us find him first, you report to me. At my signal, you and Changbin will break through their trade. I will be behind you as long as I slip away without anyone discovering our motives.”
You look to your leader. “There’s another problem.”
The three all turned to you. “If we are to go to the most lavish ball of the season, we certainly need to dress for it.” Suddenly, you sounded like a little girl when you pointed out, “I do not have a gown to wear for the evening.”
An eyebrow raised upon Chan’s face, while Changbin and Jisung snickered, puckering their lips. “Aww, poor little ____ has no lace to woo the rich men!”
You made to slap the pair’s arms and narrowly missed, glaring. “As if you animals have any decent attire to wear for the ball! When was the last time you wore a proper tailcoat?”
That was enough for their teasing to cease, but Changbin was adamant. “Don’t throw me in with Jisung! He doesn't even bother to shower!”
“Oi, you bastard!”
The pair were ready to fight once more when Chris cleared his throat.
“You’re right,____.”
A glance at the man who said it. “I have only seen you in stealth gear and rags, the first time I met you.” He leaned back in his creaking chair. “Perhaps it is time to flower you up a little.”
Jisung and Changbin were about to chuckle once again when you shot them a dirty look.
“I will order evening attire tomorrow,” Chris decided. “They will arrive on the day of the ball, which is adequate enough timing.
“Now,” he declared, standing. “Are we all aware of what we have to do?”
The two boys turned sheepishly to you, who sighed and addressed the leader. “You and I attend the ball with these two fools as our bodyguards—”
“Hey!”
“____!”
“We maintain a believable facade and enjoy ourselves while also looking out for Carter and the documents. Once we find out where he is, Changbin and Jisung take him away, and we slip out of the party unnoticed.”
Chris, after a pause, nodded, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. “Good girl.”
And just like that, he left the table, your eyes a little wide and heart a little raced.
When Chris retreated into the warehouse, the two boys turned their malicious gazes towards you, smirking much too wide for your liking.
“Do not,” you snapped, cheeks burning deeper, earning a smattering of laughter from the bastards.
“Whatever you say, good girl,” Changbin simpered, Jisung repeating the damned endearment until you hastily stood from your chair.
You rewarded them both with your middle finger before storming back into another warehouse, Chris’ words still engraved in your mind.
Just as Christopher Bang had predicted, the new attire arrived on the day of the ball.
More planning had been explained, more additions to the grand scheme of the evening which was mere hours away. The gang was ready, but you can never be perfectly anticipated for any ideas gone amiss.
You even taught Jisung and Changbin to dance, ranging from the Polka to the Viennese Waltz, which was popular amongst high society in the growing years of Queen Victoria’s reign. They were terrible at the start, both of them always falling on each other, but with hard effort they learned quickly, almost perfecting the art of leading your partner on the ballroom floor.
You had not bothered asking the other if he wished to learn. There was something about him which made you think that he could do anything. Not once had he ever doubted your theory.
It was as if there was nothing in the world he could not know like the back of his gloved hand.
Thoughts like these were what filled you with such awe for him. Such deep-rooted pride that you worked under this man. Those thoughts did, however, curve into darker corners — when his midnight-lined eyes and raven figure haunted you in restless nights.
You aggressively shook your head, swinging your legs over the dock. Sitting upon the wood, you watched the sun descend slowly, the stark yellows and whites of the sky beginning to darken. Ships docked and stayed, men with their filthy language and filthier intentions flocked outside, and strange women with too-tight corsets and lips too rosey, smirking at the newcomers, carrying out their own ways of living.
Sometimes, you’d watch this run-down life move on in this exact same spot, thanking the lucky stars for not being one of the boys with the weights on their backs, nor the girls with the untied top corsets. You thanked the same man, who brought you out of that hell, giving you the chance to fight all this wrong embedded in London.
You also thanked him, especially that day, for calling you that endearment.
God. The man was a criminal, yet you were the one being imprisoned.
“____!”
You turned, heaving to your feet when you see Jisung running to you, packages in his hands. “Your gown’s inside!” He exclaimed, gummy smile lighting up his entire face.
Throwing you the box, you caught it just before it flew into the Thames, shooting the boy a wary glare. “Careful,” you said, looking over the silk ribbon tied into a perfect bow upon the middle. Although there were greater happinesses in life, small ones such as new dresses had you in near giggles.
“I’ve got my very own tailcoat now,” Jisung yelled, ripping open the packaging, about to whip out his new clothing when you waved him to stop.
“Do it inside, Ji, or you’ll ruin your outfit!”
“Trust him to fuck up a perfectly new suit before trying it on,” Changbin’s voice drawled through the dock, who held a box of his own. “Also, the boss is saying to quit dallying and start dressing!”
You obliged, holding onto your box tenderly as you entered a little building beside the main warehouse, consisting of everyone’s rooms and privies. Your eyes glanced to Chris’ bedroom door before pushing open the door to yours, stepping inside to the small, yet decorated space, filled with a board of knives and bows displayed upon one wall and an erratic strokes of paint brushed along the textured surfaces, courtesy of Jisung and Changbin’s lack of motivation to finish your room. An undone bed was tucked into the corner, and a large mirror stood on its curled railing in the other corner, revealing yourself, hands underneath the package.
The sun fell further, sky being painted with dark oranges and purple and pinks, staining your bedroom the colours of soft autumn as you put your package on the bed, untying the ribbon and unboxing the whole treat.
The first glance of the dress had you smiling in pure incitement.
You brought the dress out of its box, letting it trail free right down to your toes, holding it to arm’s length to examine the details : it was a mysterious, dark red, a colour which instantly attracted attention within the golds of the ballroom. The neck line was low, dipping just enough to tempt until it swelled over for the openings for the arms, black ruffles on the fabric to accentuate off shoulders. The intricate, midnight detail was stitched to perfection, creating a network of swirls upon the bodice before flaring out into the wider skirts. Dear God, you had never seen such an exquisite dress on any noble lady in this damned city.
Your smile grew a little wider. Christopher Bang, once again, has not disappointed.
You turned it on it’s back, mouth parting in surprise at the silk lacing, undone and trailing down the dress, waiting to be tied and admired. Realising that we’re you to wear this, the entire ball would see your back half-exposed. Even the man you’re to be escorted with.
The thought alone made your insides sing.
Chris had ordered this dress. He knew what he was acquiring for you, what he asked you to dare.
Well, you were happy to oblige. Something within you wished to see his eyes blaze at you in the gown.
Closing the curtains of your room, you quickly lit up a metallic lamp, orange light leaking onto your dresser and walls. Setting the source upon a stool, you began shedding your coat, tossing it on the bed before going to the dresser.
You spent about ten minutes on your hair, lifting locks upward and curling them into a messy bun. You brought out clips of pearls, attaching them at the back of your hair, letting the few stray curls bounce along your ears and neck.
After finishing your hair you began shedding your clothing, excitement rushing in your gut at the thought of wearing the ballgown. When you were adorned in nothing but your underthings, you grabbed onto the arms of the new dress, entering one leg into the opening before sliding the other. You raised the gown, fitting the bodice upon yourself and the short sleeves cuffing just under your shoulders.
Looking over your shoulder at the back, it was bare before the mirror, saving your rear only with a small dip which was edged with more black lace. The laces for tightening the back still hung uselessly, begging to be entangled with their partners.
And you tried to oblige. You truly did, straining your hands behind your back and trying your hardest to tie the laces with the opposites, of creating a pattern adequate enough for the ball and announce your preparation. Unfortunately for you, your fingers refused to assist you that moment in the evening.
Letting out an irritated sigh, you called for your friends.
“Jisung!” you shouted, hands endeavouring still. “Changbin!”
Your back still to the door, you waited for the two fools to arrive, but no one came. Again, you called their names, but to no avail, only silence answering you.
“I swear to the Lord,” you muttered, arms now starting to hurt from the stretching. You were about to bring the warehouse down with your roar when you heard the door quietly creak open, the sound of boots emitting against the floor.
“Ah, finally,” you began as you turned around, hands clutching the bodice of the dress, ready to be irritated by your comrades when all words abandoned your tongue.
There, standing by the door, in all his midnight-tainted glory, was Chris Bang.
You hated how your eyes widened at the sight of him.
The man always took care of his appearance, but that evening he had truly outdone himself - His infamous woollen longcoat was hung over his arm, exposing his black tailcoat, shining slightly in the flickering lamp light. His waistcoat underneath fit snug, and his white cravat tie peaked just above the lapels, caressing his Adam’s apple. His raven locks were slicked back, a few stray flyaways drooping over his forehead. The gloves were worn still, skin never exposed.
You caught his eyes flicker, something within stirring at seeing you, holding onto your dress in case it fell to the floor. The prolonging silence was shattered when you forced yourself to speak.
“Chris,” you said, because his name was the first thing, the only thing you could comprehend.
He, too, inhaled, slowly. “Jisung and Changbin...they’re outside, so they could not hear.”
“Oh.”
Another round of silence. God, you wished you could just say something to him, anything which wasn’t a single syllable—
“____.”
You snapped into focus. “Yes?”
“Why did you call them?”
Blinking, you stumbled, “I, I just needed help with…” your hand gestured to your back. “...with the laces.”
There was an indecipherable undertone in his next words. “You could have called me.”
“You’re here now.”
Again. The world-heavy pause upon the both of you.
A few more seconds ticked by when Chris set his coat upon the dresser chair. His eyes never left yours.
“Turn around.”
You dragged your gaze away from his as you complied, baring your back before him, laces dangling. His footsteps sounded from behind you, and his presence was felt, large and magnetic.
Leather sliding from skin, you sensed his eyes on you, taking in your illuminated skin. You had the greatest urge to shiver, but suppressed it, waiting for his next move.
A small breath hitched in your throat when Chris grabbed onto the first pair of laces and tugged them back, pulling you to him.
Almost too conveniently, your rear backed against his crotch, and a minute noise escaped you before putting some distance between you two again. You instantly regretted the action, already missing the mere caress of what lay underneath his trousers.
“Stop fidgeting,____,” he ordered, and you immediately stilled, the tug still adamant at your back. Almost disgraceful how quickly you listened to him.
Slowly, he tied the first bow, right to the small of your back. When he started on the second, though, the first touch of his fingers against your back threw you off guard.
You should have expected this. You should have known from the start of his task that his fingers would graze your skin but each caress was like a lick of fire, threatening to singe the skin. Your breath caught in your throat, each time Chris touched you.
Those damned fingers skirted upwards, tying up the laces with such delicacy it nearly softened your stance, if only you didn’t notice his growing warmth. You realised with no small amount of pleasure that he, too, was possibly flustered.
Christopher Bang. Flustered over a girl.
You almost gasped when his hands brought a few stray curls over your shoulder, the dip of your neck exposed as he began the final bow of your gown. The process was excruciatingly slow, each little caress enough for you to turn around and—
And what?
How you desperately wanted to find out.
Sensing the ribbon curling upon your neck, you understood.
“It is done,” he whispered, and you shifted at the sigh which kissed your skin. God, he was so close, you were scared that if you turned around his lips—
You did not need to worry when you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, whirling you around in a sudden fashion. Your eyes widened at the close proximity of his face, his beautiful fucking face, and the warm, slender hands on your naked shoulders.
“Chan,” you let yourself say, and you swore the criminal’s eyes darkened. His grip on you tightened.
Perhaps he would have closed the distance, saved you from desperation when someone knocked on the goddamn door.
“___?!”
“Hurry up, the carriage is waiting!”
“Women, honestly—!”
You yelped at the sound of your friends bellowing behind the door. Even Chris looked a little surprised, a slight tick in his jaw as the noise grew louder.
Grabbing onto your skirts, you thundered towards the door, furrowing your brows as you twisted the knob, opening to see the same two idiots, shooting you irritated glares.
“Is Miss Fancy-Shmancy finally ready?” Changbin drawled, propping a hand upon his hip, tails of his coat dangling behind him.
“Madame certainly took her time,” Jisung went on, sauntering into your bedroom without a care. “Might as well not attend the ball at all—”
His incessant rambling was instantly ceased when he saw Chris standing before you, putting on his gloves. His face was impassive as ever, save for the jaw still tightened.
“Oh, Chris,” he said, and started backing away to the door. “The carriage is outside.”
“Let us go, then,” he only replied as he grabbed his longcoat, strolling out of your bedroom, leaving your skin tingling and heart confused.
Changbin watched Chris exit the building, turning to you with a raised brow. “What was the Mr. Thorns-up-his-arse doing in your room?”
You scoffed at the nickname, picking up the invitations from the dresser. “He was just helping me.”
Jisung’s lips curved into a smirk. “Helping you…?”
“Stop it!” You demanded, but both of the boys could see the blush on your cheeks, even from the dim lamp light.
“Come on, now,____,” Changbin said, holding out an arm, and hitting Jisung’s arm to do the same. “Let us follow Chris before he shouts at us for keeping you here.”
“Don’t say such things,” you cooed, looping your arms with the two boys. “He will kill you outright instead.”
Laughter emitted from the two, leading you out of the room, down the halls and soon the building.
The carriage was waiting at the entrance of the dock, horses neighing softly at your arrival. Jisung opened the carriage door, letting you climb inside. Chris, inside already, held out a hand, you taking it as he had you sit beside him. His hard figure brushed against your shoulders, reminding you of his fingers on your back not too long ago.
Just like that, you slumped against the seating. That man was truly going to be the death of you.
When the two boys scrambled inside, Chris’ hand thudded against the roof, indicating it to start riding. The carriage obliged to his command.
The small, interwoven streets widened as the carriage rode upon the main roads, going faster with each signal of Chris’ hand. The inside was alive with Jisung gloating shamelessly over his checkered waistcoat, with Changbin giving reassurances for his “ugly face ruining the clothing.” You laughed at every jab the two threw at each other, but would tense at the erratic touches Chris’ knee would send with every shake of the vehicle. Although the many layers of skirts cushioned these brushes, the blood rushing to your cheeks was evidence enough - everything he did made you so unhinged.
Soon, the big roads led from filthy, back-to-back housing to larger homes, the further the dirty central city strayed from you. A few touches of countryside teased your view when you saw mansions, estates the size of neighbourhoods gracing the surroundings. The carriage began to slow down, as more people adorned in fine attire entered your window view, no doubt going to the same destination as the gang.
The most illuminated estate welcomed you as the carriage stopped right before its vast, colourful gardens, smattering of couples taking intimate walks along the hedges. Chris, noticing the destination, opened the door, Changbin following suit. As the former got out he held out his hand to you. Surprised by his sudden manners, you took his hand, stepping down from the carriage, careful of your skirts as they brushed against the pavement. Jisung and Changbin were right beside you, uttering the driver to come back within a couple of hours.
“Now,” Chris began, bringing your hand to his arm. “You both stay behind me and ____. You wouldn’t need invitations if you both act like our bodyguards.”
“Right behind you, boss,” Jisung chanted, counting his knives inside his coat pockets. Changbin took one of the weapons from him, sliding it up his trouser sleeve, securing it with a leather ankle strap.
“Right.” the gang all looked at each other, silent understanding passing between all of you.
“Let’s ruffle some rich feathers.”
With your hand still on his arm, the leader of the Sons of Seoul led his gang inside of the massive estate.
Guards at the entrance shot you grave looks as they stopped you. “Invitations,” they said. You obliged, bringing out the golden paper. They looked over, convinced, and gave them back to you.
You and Chris were about to enter when Jisung and Changbin were stopped behind you. “Protection,” Chris said, but the guards were unconvinced.
“They need invitations too,” was their answer.
Dread, slight yet present, began to fill your stomach. Has the mission failed before it could even begin?
“I suggest you let them in, too,” Chris only said, black eyes piercing the two men with a glare. “Or my friend hosting this party will hear of this inconvenience.”
That seemed to stir the guards, for they said nothing more, letting your friends enter the estate. Jisung and Changbin made sure to smirk at the men before sauntering inside behind you.
Your eyes, upon stepping inside the main hall, were welcomed with paradise.
Gold. gold upon gold was painted, lined, moulded everywhere, upon the walls, on the floor, on the painted ceiling, hypnotising you with its kaleidoscopic pattern. Swirls of white and silver journeyed along the walls, and the floor bore solid treasures, sculpted into the ground and shining exquisitely from the chandelier lighting. Hundreds of lords and ladies, businessmen and escorts populated the manor, either being moved by the orchestral band, dancing, helping themselves to food from the lines of dishes or simply mingling among others.
It was the chaos of the rich. A place you didn’t quite fit in.
You stole a glance at the man beside you. Even though he looked contained as ever, you felt his arm tightening all over. Perhaps he knew he did not belong in this world either.
The grim understanding was cut off when Changbin’s shrill gulp sounded from behind you.
“Scones!”
The man immediately dashed towards the food section, earning blatant laughter from his friends as Jisung stepped beside Chris. “Once he’s done stuffing himself, we’ll get into positions.” He skirted his eyes over the buzzing crowd. “I have already spotted some of Carter’s men in different corners of the hall, so we can see where they’re going to go.”
“Any signs of Carter?” you asked, already feeling suggestive eyes on your body, the dark red curves of your figure.
“He’ll show himself soon,” Chris promised, beginning to take a step forward. “The bastard thrives in attention.” He turned to Jisung. “Make yourself scarce.”
He then saw Changbin making himself much too comfortable with the jam scones rapidly declining in his wake. “And for God’s sake, control Changbin.”
Jisung shook his head, mocking a salute before strolling to his friend. You and him were left to your own activities, and soon you felt the tug of his body, leading you further into the hall.
You looked up to see him scouring the room. His brows furrowed slightly, that stiffness felt underneath your fingertips. “Chris,” you called to him, and were answered with an uncertain stare.
“I’m alright,” he said, walking along the lines of the dance floor, looking away when he gave you the false assurance.
You did not know what was going on. In other missions his composure would never falter — this was what he was so notorious for, being calm despite the anarchy around him. Never before had you seen him so tense.
“Stop it.”
You blinked back into reality. “What?”
“You’re doing it again,” he hissed, raking his hand through his hair. “Looking at me that way. Like I’m about to snap.”
A pout formed on your lips, looking up at him underneath your lashes. “I can sense you’re distressed.” You squeezed his arm in comfort. “I cannot help if I worry for you, Chris.”
With small surprise, you found him soften, only slightly. “I just…” he sighed in exasperation. “I hate parties.”
You understood the connotations. Wealthy parties. The men and women who throw them.
“And I, too,” you agreed, earning a soft snort from the man. Your heart warmed a little at the sound, and thankfully the tension faded between the two of you, not necessarily from each other but from the socialites around you.
Your heart, however, received no such rest, beating much too loud for your liking.
The two of you took another turn of the room before a low, arrogant drawl paused you both in your tracks.
“Mr Christopher Bang.”
You and your leader both sighed simultaneously.
Turning, you tilted your head upwards to none other than ‘Scar’ Carter, smirking ridiculously down at the the two of you. He was something out of a children’s book, the grotesque villains with wanned skin and beady looks, ready to pounce and make you disappear without you ever realising. Although young, he looked to be in his mid-forties, unkept locks and curled moustache, being played by his fingers.
He held out his other hand, extending the smile to the man beside you. “Always a goddamned blessing to see you.”
Chris assessed his hand for a moment before he let go of your grip on his arm, slipping off his gloves. His own olive coloured hands were roughened, no doubt from years of manual labour. He took Carter’s hand, shaking the greeting in place, and the latter turned his enemy’s hold, looking over at the new image inked upon the hand.
“What is this, Chrissy?” He mused, the nickname causing the said-man’s lips to twitch. “Some flowery poetry?”
Your eyes strayed to what he meant; just under his thumb, where the joint began, was a tattoo, inked deeply in a cursive hand. It was a phrase you had never knew the meaning of, nor had you asked, but the Latin was beautiful on his textured skin.
NON DUCOR DUCO.
“Not poetry, Carter,” he only said, tracing his sole tattoo with a finger. “But something I live by.”
Despite Carter towering over the man, Chris Bang pinned him with a piercing glare. His signature phantom smile appeared on his lips.
“I am not led. I lead.”
The giant’s shit-eating grin faltered. You could not help but let a small chuckle escape at his reaction.
And maybe you shouldn’t have shown amusement, because when he focused his animalistic gaze upon you, you had the sudden urge to hold onto the man beside you again.
“Ah, Miss ____,” he jeered, mocking a deep bow which you did not return. “Chris’ little...protégée.”
He then held out his hand to you, and you knew it was not to shake the gnarled fingers. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with you?”
You scoffed, anger bubbling within your veins. How dare he even ask you, after all the trouble he had caused for the gang? Smirking as if it was all a little game.
Your mouth parted, ready to reject him outright when a warm hand settled on your back.
Chris’ fingers stroked the exposed skin, skirting over the lacing, and despite the heavenly feeling, you knew what this signal really meant.
Distraction. This would be the perfect opportunity to divert Carter’s attention while Chris joined in the other’s search. Listening to the instrumental, you realised that would spare them another five minutes.
Reigning in your fury, you offered the bastard a thin-lipped smile before taking his hand, already missing the mere touch of another seconds before.
Carter led you to the dance floor among the other dancers, you hardly radiating the same enthusiasm as the others accompanying you. The man’s other hand, one still holding yours, snaked around your waist, and you hated how it felt against your back, pure distaste staining your features as he tried to impersonate the idle lace curling that Chris did.
As if it physically hurt, you propped a hand upon his shoulder, and when the music began, the game started.
The giant kept ogling at you as the sly grin appeared on his lips. “I must say, I am very envious of Chris.”
You matched his stare. “Of course you would,” you only said, trying your best to sound like your leader, who was an embodiment of calmness. “You can never be the man Chris is.”
“Oh, I did not mean by what he is, my lady,” he corrected. “I meant by what he has.”
He pulled you to him, much to close, and you hissed as the fingers behind you played on your back. “He is much too lucky to possess a creature like you, Miss ____.”
Good God. If he endeavoured to make you as uncomfortable as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You regretted ever listening to Chris, but for the plan, you will do what is necessary.
As if on cue, you felt dark, piercing eyes on you. By the little hairs which stood at the back of your neck, there was no doubt who watched over you, murmuring progress with Jisung as he sipped wine on a tightly held flute.
“Tell me, sweet,” he began once more, making you lose your thoughts, turning about the room as the music went on. “Why do you work for a man like him?”
You sighed at the question. Truly this man did not know how to initiate small talk. “Why is that any of your concern?”
“Because I’ve seen you in action,” he answered, and you could not mistake the awe that threatened to expose in his voice. “You have incredible potential, my lady, and it pains me that Chris does not use you properly. You waste your efforts in a silly gang.”
His condescending speech made you dig his nails in his hand. “Careful, Carter,” you seethed, watching his face crumple in pain from your action. “The silly gang you speak of will not hesitate to obliterate your entire organisation. And neither will I.”
Rage flashed in his eyes as he grinned at your claim. “I doubt the esteemed Christopher Bang would even let you participate,” he drawled, grazing his fingers against your back. “You being his whore is enough for him.”
You parted your mouth in slight shock. The reaction quickly evaporated with pure, unadulterated fury. A lot of people speculate your true relationship with Chris, but your own demeaning always struck deep. How dare people think that you only have the power you have because you slept with the greatest criminal in the city?
With your head raging, you sent your low heel down upon Carter’s boot, a yelp escaping the man as his dancing faltered, grip on you loosening. Fortunately for you, the orchestra smoothed their music to a close, and small applause rang around the room, you joining as you smiled at Carter’s slight groaning.
When the giant looked at you again, all his arrogance was gone, instead a face of wrath. “You bitch-”
You were sure he was going to strike, despite hundreds in the ballroom. Even your smug demeanour dampened when you saw his bear-like hand raise when its journey was paused.
Ceased completely as Chris’ hand wrapped around Carter’s wrists.
Your leader’s smile was sharp, like a decorated dagger. “Are you already creating a scene, just when you finished the first dance?”
Carter, dumbfounded by his enemy’s sudden presence, waved off the foreign grip on his hand. “You are never going to find the documents,” he crowed, glaring at the two of you.
Chris, the magnificent bastard, only kept his magnetic smirk as he took your hand, enveloping his fingers with yours. “We shall see about that,” he promised, and dipped his head in adieu, turning on his heel and taking you with him.
You felt your heart flutter when his grip on you stayed, even when Carter stomped off into the crowd. “Bastard,” you hissed. A hum of agreement followed.
Soon, music began to play a sensual tune, and you looked to the couples joining in the main circle of the floor. You made to leave that area when you felt the man refused to be led.
You looked back, noticing an uncertain emotion swirling in his eyes. “The dance is about to begin.”
“So?” he merely said, hands still clasping yours. The people around you began to take positions.
“Chris,” you got out. “You do not dance.”
A small smile enveloped his mouth at the claim. He answered in wrapping a hand around you, making you suck in a breath. You caught sight of the tattoo inked on his skin as he raised his hold on. NON DUCOR DUCO.
I am not led. I lead.
“You’re right,” he admitted. As the first tune of the violin settled in the ballroom, the man took a step. “But I let it slide on special occasions.”
You did not reply, only staring at him as you happily let him turn you about the dance floor.
Your assumptions were correct - Chris Bang was a wonderful dancer. The man already possessed a natural smoothness in his usual movement, but the way he led you across the room gave fluidity another meaning entirely. His hand on your back was an anchor to reality, keeping you from dreaming away in the skies above, and his fingers, interlocked with yours, were a silent promise that he was never letting you go.
You were so caught up in your fantasies that you did not hear what Chris said until he called your name.
“____.”
You perked up, raising your brows. “Yes?
“Did Carter say anything to you?” His fingers on your exposed skin began to caress you, and it took a lot within you to stay calm. “You were seething while you both danced.”
Oh, so he was watching you. The information didn’t help your nerves. “He was being his usual, charming self,” you drawled, careful of your feet.
He paused a bit at your unhelpful answer. “I see,” he got out, index curling with the ribbon of your back. You let out a shuddered breath, not going unnoticed by the man.
You changed the subject, focusing on the mission. “Are Jisung and Changbin still searching for the documents?”
Chris, on the note, twirled you delicately, and brought you back into his arms. “They have discovered the hideout, and have taken down half the men,” he informed, and you sighed in relief. “They’ll find what we’re looking for soon.”
“I hope so, too,” you murmured, listening to the music ascend in its pitch.
So much finery radiated in this room. As your eyes drifted to the surroundings once more, you became slightly envious of the family fortunate enough to reside in this estate, and drink in the liquid gold splattered everywhere in the vast hall. Complaints were heard from a rather nasty woman, who screamed at a young servant for spilling wine on her oh so expensive dress, and the jewellery which glittered upon necks and ears.
This. you hated this. Despised the wealth which accumulated in this ball, this entire neighbourhood. Not months ago you were about to die from the lack of food in your stomach. No doubt these people simply relished another one of these many balls, occurring every season.
It was the only reason the Sons of Seoul existed in the first place. To battle the ranks of the rich, and establish a sense of justice which had long faded from London.
Perhaps Chris sensed your growing disgust at the environment, for he sighed. “I hate these people.”
You nearly smiled at how similar you both think.
His touches still had you nearing closer to him as he continued, “I hate how everyone here can simply enjoy themselves without a care in the world. I hate the Mayor for letting this chaos happen as he sits back on his arse, corruption spiking under his office.”
His anger grew. “I hate that pig-headed prick Carter and all the trouble he’s brought me. I hate that he stole those documents and constantly fucks with me as if we two had not crawled out of the same hellhole.
“And God,” he snapped, pure venom now lacing his tongue, “I hate how he was touching you as if you were no one but his.”
Your eyes widened at the confession.
He groaned out in frustration, fingers tightening on your hand. “I hate how Jisung and Changbin walked in on us this evening. Despise that the moment I was about to close the distance they burst through the door, leaving me helpless. And I hate feeling helpless.”
You did not know what to say, what words to comfort him with. Not when you were thinking the exact same thing, and felt the exact same agitation, particularly at your core.
The man leaned in, eyes heavy lidded. “You know what I hate the most, ____?”
Gulping, you let out a little, “What?” afraid of what he was going to reveal.
His tongue ran along his bottom lip, fingers continuing their teasing.
“I-” he seethed, gripping your back tightly. “Fuck, I hate how ravishing you look in that dress.”
You parted your mouth in shock, blushing the colour of roses. “Why do you hate that?” you only asked, breath almost lost in your lungs as your blood began to thrum beneath your skin.
His eyes lost all dreamy light when a small curve enveloped his lips. “Because, my dear ____,” he muttered hoarsely, each breath ragged, “It makes me think of all the things I want to do to you.”
The strong hand on his back was felt much more, fingers playing with the laces of your dress. You nearly cried out in front of a hundred people over their idle play, and his bold, bold statement.
Chris relished in your whimpering reaction. “Aren’t you going to ask me?” he whispered, leaning in till his mouth hovered near your ear. “Do you not want to know what I wish to do to you?”
“What,” you rasped out, grip tightening over his neck. “What are you going to do?”
His husky chuckling nearly sent you over the edge. “I’ll find a nice little space, away from Carter and all these people,” he began, breath caressing your skin. “Then I’ll kiss you slowly, like so.” he pressed a chaste kiss underneath your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “These hands of mine will roam all over, but they will gladly trail up your legs, ____.
“And God, when my hands stop at your sopping cunt, I’ll make it cry with my fingers.” He drummed his fingers on your back. “One.” Tap. “Two.” Tap. “Three of them.” Tap. “Perhaps you’d like more.”
You whined into his shoulder, feet stumbling as you clung onto him tighter. “M-more,” you pleaded quietly, so careful to keep dancing, move along to the music.
“Of course you would,” he only cooed in your ear, and you were scared you would collapse over his words. “Luckily for you, I wouldn’t be finished with you either.”
Your hand, clasped in his his, squeezed at his words. “Chris, please—”
“Yes, just like that,” the man mused, whirling you on the dance floor. “Just like that, you’ll beg me to send you over the edge, but I won’t let you be satisfied so easily.”
On God and all his subjects, if he did not cease his filth you were going to come onto the floor by his mere words. You could tell Chris noticed, almost reading your mind as the ghost of a smirk widened. “Already afraid, love?”
Love.
Dear, fucking God.
“You see, ____,” he muttered, leading you to the final round of the song, the steps of the dance going faster. “I won’t let you be satiated with just my fingers.”
And as he broke his hold on you, twirling you with his tattooed hand, he pulled you to him, one last time, crushing you against his granite chest.
His eyes bore into yours when the last string of the violin wailed around the hall. All you could see was pure, unadulterated desire.
“I will have you writhing with my cock.”
Your eyes never left Chris’ as the music finally came to a close, gaze blurring at the dark promise. Applause scattered around the ballroom, yet your hands stayed upon his arm, the other enveloped in his.
You caught the words once more under his thumb. NON DUCOR DUCO.
Indeed you do.
“Chris,” you breathed out, waiting for him to let you go. He did no such thing.
Feeling a few suspicious eyes on you, your feet backed away from the man, hands escaping the feeling he emitted underneath your touch.
A whine threatened to escape you when you saw his desire had not dampened. His hands shook, only slightly, and your stomach erupted into a million butterflies, journeying lower and lower.
You wanted him. You wanted him so badly you feared you would faint on the dance floor.
Excusing yourself, you hastened your footsteps, sending a few smiles to passerbys as you picked up a flute of champagne, hurrying down long hallways, catching a few couples leaning towards each other. When you found a grand wooden cabinet beside another door, no doubt a guest room, you slumped next to it, breathing loud and ragged, too affected by a certain man’s eyes and the hidden intentions underneath. You drank the entire champagne in one gulp, propping the flute on a servant’s tray as he rushed by.
“____!”
Gasping, you turned to the source of the voice. The voice which filled you with such unexplainable hunger you had to clench your thighs as it drew nearer.
Footsteps thudded against the carpet, and you squirmed at the sight of Chris Bang, storming towards you with a ferocity which had your knees near buckling.
“Where,” he began, voice an octave lower as he stood not a foot from you, smacking his hands against the wall, caging you with his presence. “Were you trying to lead me?”
“Somewhere where they cannot see us,” you responded, excitement clear in your voice. The ballroom chatter was still within your range, so technically, anyone could wonder down these halls, look over the cabinet and catch you both.
The throbbing inside you didn’t particularly care.
“And what do you want me to do,____,” he murmured, and his voice was glazed with pure lust, “Which the world cannot see?”
“I…” slight shame tried to course through your body but the overflowing desire was too strong. Not when your tongue was not afraid to voice what was in your heart the moment you first saw him. “I want you to do all those things you said. I want you to ruin me.”
And perhaps that was all he needed, when Christopher Bang pressed his lips against yours and answered your prayers.
He was instantly rewarded with your surprised whine, drowned out by the movement of his mouth as his hands left the wall, holding onto your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks as he led the fiery kiss, opening your mouth to let the little noises escape.
“Chris,” you tried to rasp out, but his lips refused once more as he tilted your head, gaining full access and truly discovering the sheer pleasure oozing from the swell of your lips. God, he had gone through every experience which gave him a sense of thrill, but the kiss he shared with you brought him a new, foreign high — as if he tried the drugs he had seen on the streets for the first time, and becoming addicted on the first dose.
You broke the kiss, gasping for air as the two of you shared a carnal gaze, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm. Chris was ruthless, only sparing you for a few seconds before pouncing back in on your mouth, this time tongue playing along, asking to be let inside and slide along the inner workings. You would have been a fool to refuse him.
The moment you opened your lips for him his tongue slithered inside, sliding it along the roof of your mouth, while his hands left your face and instead gripped onto your waist, driving you further against the wall, snuffing out any distance which dared come between you and him.
A slightly moan bubbled within your throat when he began to roughen your lips, capturing your tongue before closing the seam of your mouth within his own, repeating the action until you didn’t know whether you were sane or absolutely fucking crazy.
You were sure straight after when one of his hands began sliding down. Down. He hurriedly broke the kiss, letting out an angry groan at the never ending skirts which met with his fingers. “Fuck this dress,” he cursed as he descended a little, peppering kisses upon the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck, trailing until he found the hem of your skirts.
Bunching them up with his one hand, he lifted the fabric, baring your legs to the dimmed chandelier light from the main hall. His hand trailed right up to your core, a single layer hiding it from Chris’ fingers. The poor, soaked fabric could not ever compete, when the criminal, with a single finger as he scattered kisses upon your face, hooked under the lacey underwear, sliding it down your thighs. So much desperation lurked he did not even bother to slide it down to your ankles, a chuckle rasping out of him as his fingers skimmed your upper thighs to find them dripping with the suppressed arousal.
“My poor, poor, darling,” he whispered in a menacing tone, the other hand caressing your face, “Couldn’t contain yourself for me?”
“Ch-chan,” you heard yourself say, because at this point your soul was not present, probably lurking in seventh heaven where this man was taking you.
Hearing his name on your slurred mouth only had him plunging the first finger inside you.
You let out an obscenely loud moan, which was immediately followed by hushing. “Don’t make a sound,” he demanded, smiling slyly at your whimpering, “Or else I stop. Understand?”
You could not nod fast enough, and he huffed out a laugh before sliding the second finger in, rubbing against your slit, drawing circles upon your throbbing skin, testing the rather sticky waters of you and your fucked out state.
Satisfied, he delved the two fingers in deeper, pulsating against your walls until they hit a certain spot which had you crying out in pleasure. Chris’ heavy lidded warning flashed in his eyes.
You nearly cried when he began to slide his fingers out over your moaning, your hand immediately stopping him from pulling out further. “Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, pleaded like the whores you heard on the docks, but you didn’t care, did not give a single fuck when those fingers needed to be inside you again. “Chan, please, I’m sorry—”
“One more fuck up, ____, and these—” his fingers plunged back into you once more, hitching you upwards with the sheer force, “—will be back out.”
Nodding hastily, you left your hand on his wrist. Chris continued to work so deliciously inside you that it took every ounce of strength left in you not to bring the manor down with your moaning. The whimpering could not be contained, but the criminal let that slide, finding great contentment every time you begged for more.
He curled his slender fingers, acquainting himself with that same bloody spot which had you seeing stars. Your hands gripped onto his neck for stability, nails digging into his shirt. How you wanted it off, along with all the damned layers he adorned.
The way he played with your sweet spot had you feeling heavy, a pleasured ball of pain forming at your lower back. You knew you were being led to an edge, an edge you could not, did not want to escape, and when you pulled away from Chris, looking into his eyes, he instantly understood.
“Oh my, love,” he simpered, his free hand thumbing your cheek. “Does someone want to get fucked against the wall? When I’m not even finished with them yet?”
Tears lined your eyes, cunt throbbing almost painfully around his fingers. “Chan, I’m going to—ah!” you cut off, closing your eyes as you barely held on to your last grips of sanity. “Chan.”
Your weakened, fucked out demeanour had the most dangerous man in London fearing for his own senses. He wished nothing more than you screaming his name for the whole city to hear, and with you, looking at him like that…
Oh, he was definitely going to drive you over the edge.
Christopher Bang nearly carried out his promise when a shrill call interrupted you two.
“CHRIS! ____!”
“WHERE ARE YOU—?”
Your lust-glazed stare cracked as you blinked. “Chan,” you said his name, but the man let out an enraged roar. You felt the hollow emptiness when those golden fingers were pulled out of you, sticky residue coating his skin. The footsteps grew closer, the volume of the shouting increasing.
Chris brought out a white handkerchief, cleaning your mess on his fingers rather aggressively. “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he guttered out, making your legs tremble. To your utmost misery you felt the orgasm, so close before, fading from existence, and you made a silent vow to break Jisung and Changbin’s legs the moment all of this was over.
Speaking of the Devil, the two hastened, opening all doors and closing them till the two stumbled upon the both of you, infuriated and worryingly turned on.
Changbin looked at the deflated expression on both of yours faces. “Chris? ____?” His eyes narrowed, trying to work out the reasons for the slight electric atmosphere he suddenly entered in. “Are you both...alright?”
“Perfectly,” the man answered in a ragged hiss, sliding on his gloves again, smoothing over his raven locks. “Now why the fuck are you both here?”
The two boys did not understand their leader’s anger. Choosing to let the snipe slide, Jisung said, “We’ve caught Carter.”
That seemed to send you and Chris back in reality. Well, not really, when your core still throbbed, the pleasure fading with each passing second.
“Where is he?” Chris flattened out his coat. “Where are the documents?”
Changbin brought out a small file from inside his waistcoat, holding it out for the former. “Right here.”
Chris took the file, skimming through the contents. His previously angered expression relaxed, just a fraction, and he held onto it as he set his powerful gaze on you all.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
The four of you managed to slip away easily, you trying your hardest to fix yourself after the whole fiasco in the hallway. Your heart was still running a mile per minute, refusing to calm as your mind relived the events. The original carriage which you all arrived in was now accompanied with another one, with a dark figure hunched over from the window’s view.
“We threw the giant fucker in another carriage,” Changbin said, laughing as he recalled the takedown with Jisung. “Man could not believe he was failing!”
Chris ignored his story, turning to you all as he stood before Carter’s carriage. “You three, take the free one,” he ordered, his eyes rooted on you. “I will journey home with him.”
“But Chris,” you began, taking a step towards him, “Let me come with you.”
You caught a glimpse of the desire which swirled in his eyes, not long ago, and perhaps that was why he held your arm in his now gloved hand.
“Go,” he only said. “I have a few things to say to him alone.”
After letting you go, nodding at the boys behind you, Chris Bang stepped inside the first carriage, slamming the door shut. The metal wheels screeched as the whole thing began to move, accelerating away.
You watched the carriage fade from view, Jisung and Changbin stepping beside you.
“What happened, ____?” the former asked, the other trying to comfort you with his gaze.
Silence was their only answer, as you turned on your heel, climbing inside your designated ride and watched the stars twinkle from the window.
The two members of the gang really tried their best.
As you all journeyed home without your leader, the pair told their tale of how they took down Carter and his men, Jisung adding exaggerated gasps as Changbin demonstrated each kill he thrust upon his victims. You offered them a few laughs, giving them your attention, but really your mind was somewhere else, specifically a midnight-tainted criminal who nearly brought you your undoing.
You were insane. Insane as you thought of him, insane as you remembered how wonderfully he had you writhing over him, just by his fingers. The mindless pondering alone had your cunt pulsating, and you deserved an award for how unaffected you acted with your friends.
Soon, the carriage slowed to a stop, and you perked up, not realising you had already arrived home.
You waited for the boys to exit before you stepped out of the carriage, the only light on the docks emitting from lamps and the night sky, reflected on the surface of the river. The first carriage was already there when your feet met the concrete floor, and when you turned to the man who reigned in your mind he had his signature expression, an aloof distaste as he walked over to his gang.
“Jisung, Changbin,” he called, and the boys responded. “Lock the carriage door,” he ordered, jerking his chin towards his transport. “We will bring him out in the morning.”
“Chris, should we not throw him in the cellar?” Changbin glared at Carter’s direction. “Bastard might escape.”
He only slid his hands in his pockets, you catching the dried blood on his gloves. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, striking a step towards the building. “He’s not going to disturb us tonight. I can promise you that.”
Jisung cursed low along with you, only watching the man walk back to the bedrooms. Bidding goodnight to your friends, you followed Chris’ trail, opening the door and stepping inside the hallway.
You saw him before his bedroom door, bringing out a rusted key. His eyes slid to you as your feet brought you to your entrance. You looked back, waiting as Chris unlocked his room and began to enter.
He turned back, something dark and twisted still lurking in his eyes.
You waited, so patiently at the words you wished to hear, of him finally ruining you.
Instead, you received something else entirely.
“Goodnight, ____.”
And closed the door behind him.
Your heart dropped.
Fell to the floor, and shattered under the criminal’s bloodied boots.
The light of the hallway flickered as you stood rooted to the doorway, eyes staring at Chris’ door as if looking at it hard enough would get him to change his mind.
What did you know. The man is not led by exterior forces. Only by his own will.
When you gathered up the strength to the slam the door shut, you slumped against the wood, hating yourself for the tears which threatened to break the lines of your eyes. This was pathetic — utterly disgusting that you were about to cry over his decision.
But you could not help it. You were so enraptured by him. Hell, you were ready to throw yourself in the fires of damnation for him, as he whispered filth all the while rutting against you. Why had that suddenly changed?
“Argh!” You screamed, stomping over to the lamp, light now long extinguished. You relit it’s spark, illuminating the room once more, and set it on the stool before recklessly plucking out the pearls in your hair, a few tears daring to trail down your cheeks.
Fuck him. Fuck him for making you so rattled. Fuck him for having that effect on you.
You looked into your mirror and cursing yourself for the disheveled appearance. Again, the consequences for letting yourself fall for him.
“To hell with you Bang Chan,” you cursed.
You were about to untie your dress when your bedroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges.
Flinching, you grabbed the dagger on your dresser, raised to cut down whoever stupid enough to barge in on an assassin at midnight.
You were met with Christopher Bang.
And the disorder he brought with him.
Chaos reigned in his figure; his tousled locks, his star-struck expression, his rolled-up sleeves and his pandemonic eyes, all working together and against each other to create the man you had never seen in your life.
Good God. What had happened to him?
“Chan?” You got out, dagger now brought down. He said not a single word in response as he slammed the door shut, hard enough for the entirety of London to hear.
Instead, he imprisoned you with his stare, almost giving you his chaos. The chaos you had always shared with him since the moment he picked you off the streets.
No, he said not one word — only took the steps needed to march towards you. You could only watch with widening eyes when he grabbed your face in his rugged hands and collided his lips against yours.
You did not even hesitate to comply, hands grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could, so afraid that he would disappear from your grip if you dared let go. With the way he moved his mouth along yours, however, already opening up the familiar workings, you had a feeling he was not going to abandon you now.
When he broke away, breathing already erratic, his hands slid down to your neck, thumbs caressing the length of your throat. “I couldn’t,” he started, and he was sprinkling kisses all over your face. “I couldn’t leave.”
“I was scared, Chan,” you confessed, fisting the material harder. “I thought you truly did.”
His eyes focused on you. Within the turmoil, there was a promise. “Never,” he whispered, leaning in. “Never again.”
And suddenly his lips were on you, and the desperation was so rooted he nearly stole the very breath from your lungs. The sheer intensity, the longing implied broke your heart to the point you attached yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and refusing to ever let him go.
The rather soft kiss began to heat up, as Chris broke the seam of your lips, swirling your tongue in his, already receiving incoherent praise from deep down your throat, making the man smile against his lips as he continued.
His hands slid further down, right to the small of your back, where he began to untie all the little bows he created for you at the dawn of the evening, the little touches of fire singeing you still. It was fascinating how effortlessly he loosened all the laces, fingers sliding through the patterns until one by one they fluttered down, until the dark red dress slackened around your chest.
A small gasp escaped you as Chris, while creating a trail of kisses down your jaw, right down to your neck, grabs the dress from your sides, hitching it down until it falls to the floor. Leaving you practically naked save for the scraps covering your dangerously soiled underwear.
Chris paused from his ravishing, taking a much too long look at your skin, glowing from the lamp light, and before he could stare any longer you brought your arms to your chest, suddenly becoming a little too embarassed to let him see you at your most vulnerable.
The supposedly unfeeling criminal, however, nearly broke into a smile at your flustered nature, and grabbed onto your wrists, opening the lock to your breasts, peaked by his actions, and the thought of what was to come.
The soiled underwear was about to drip at this point.
“You’re exquisite,” was all he said, making you almost burst into tears at the praise. You pressed a long, heart shattering kiss upon his mouth, and he responded perfectly, hands sliding to your naked waist, each drum of his fingers like a tug towards a dangerous edge.
Things began to take a turn, open mouthed kisses being plastered on the skin of your throat as the man pushed you back, further and further until the back of your knees hit the bed, stopping you in his tracks. His grip on your waist directed downwards, planting you on the mattress as his mouth descended to your collarbone, down and down until he licked your peaked nipple in a way that had you moaning obscenely loud. His husky chuckle resonated along your skin, still not pausing his trail until he hit the end of the dip of your cunt, barricaded by the fabric.
The moment he looked up at you, that alone made you nearly undo yourself. By the increasing volume of your breathing, Chris seemed to realise so too.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he got out, watching you whimper at each touch caressing your hips. “Already about to come when I haven’t even done anything?”
“Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, wishing for those damned fingers of his to plunge inside of you. The son of a bitch was taking his time, making you wait knowing it pained you to stay like this. “Chan—”
His name on your tongue had him gritting his teeth, hands on each of your side grabbing onto your lace, and sliding your underwear down, all the way till it fell free from your legs and threw it across the room, forgotten when Chris parted his mouth at the moistened treasure between your legs.
Those roughened hands steeled their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer till you sat right on the edge of the bed, cunt mere inches from his face. You could not even comprehend the insanity of this situation, that the hidden fantasies you dreamed of shamelessly were morphing into reality right before your eyes.
“So, so pretty,” he murmured, blowing a little air on your slick folds, earning himself a sucked in breath from his truly. “So pretty and wet, and all because of me.”
You let out a ragged breath, words of filth sounding so foreign on his tongue. It was not like he didn’t talk like the sailors living near you on the docks, but these dirty words and dirtier intentions, now all directed at you, made you feel so flustered, in a wondrous way you could not possibly describe. All you wanted was for him to keep singing this filth till you blacked out.
Chris, with the force of his hands, spread your thighs a little wider, and without warning broke his tongue from the seam of his lips, planting it upon your slit and moving it slowly over the surface.
That alone made you cry out in ecstasy.
But that was only a test, a taking on of foreign surroundings before truly welcoming himself, and by God, did he welcome himself in as more than a guest, when that tongue slid deeper and performed strokes which had you seeing all the stars in the universe.
What was first slow teasing then became a starved hunt, tongue relishing in the sweet arousal you emitted, lapping it up brazenly as if he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time. Your blubbering grew louder with every lick, fisting the sheets behind you with such ferocity you were sure they’d tear.
And if that wasn’t painstakingly enough, the man spread your legs a little wider, his tattooed hand, two fingers out, sliding straight inside you, making you mewl at the way they tightened they walls they journeyed in. Curling, just like they did earlier in the evening, they took their time finding the certain little spot which had you bringing the house down with your cries.
“Ch-Chan, please, please, I’m going to—AH!” You rasped out, when the said-criminal found the sweet little undoing of yours and stroked your fingers along the sensitive spot, making that bundle of pleasure resonating in your back appear once more, like a low throbbing begging to be released.
His tongue had not given you any breaks, still working ruthlessly along your clit and you cried for him to give you that sweet release, to just let you come but he had not let you be satisfied this easily. No, he wanted you writhing underneath him, wanted the final ruination to be from underneath his trousers, angered as it outlined against his leather.
You craned your head back, screaming out his name because you knew all else had abandoned you. “Chan!” Looking down, his mouth very much occupied with your cunt. Your orgasm was reaching, was on the very edge, and if he kept working on you like this he was on his way to taste the consequences of his actions.
Something about that image made you want it as a reality with a worryingly strong intensity.
“Chan, I’m going to—” you were about to warn but were interrupted by a squeeze of your thigh, done by yours truly as if he knew. And as if he knew, the two fingers began pumping much faster, harmonising along with his tongue, and the two actions at once, fucking you with that rapidity was so pleasurable that, with the first earth-shattering cry of the night, you were driven over the edge, releasing your orgasm straight into the criminal’s face.
You felt the work of his fingers slow down, along with his tongue, that with one, final lick, he retreated from your cunt, fingers still inside you as they comforted your aching core with slow, soothing strokes.
When he looked up at you, though, with your residue mostly upon his mouth, scattered on his cheeks, and basically a bit of everywhere, that sight alone nearly caused you to come all over again.
Perhaps that was his intentions.
Because when he licked his lips clean of your mess, ever so slowly, as if enjoying your orgasm like a man starved, you instantly saw in his eyes that this night was not over yet.
“Already so good, so wonderful,” he mused, slipping his fingers out, both hands now resting on your thighs. “Coming so quick even though I had been saving for the last.”
You knew exactly what he meant, but still had the nerve to ask, “The last?”
He raised a groomed brow, and that gesture was so breathtaking, more so when he raised himself slightly, so he knelt eye-level to you. “Don’t act oblivious, love,” he mused, leaving your thighs to your disappointment, but quickly diminishing when his fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping upon, each patch of skin being revealed like a show of your own. “We both know this isn’t how it’s going to end.”
Shivers crawled down your spine, but you only watched as the man finished undoing his shirt, peeling it off of him and throwing it amongst the other clothing. You nearly let spit trail down your chin at the sheer finery of his muscle alone, sharpened at his arms, his chest all the way down to his v-line, which dipped dangerously low. With no small amount of pride, you also noticed the large, angry outline of Chris’ cock, begging to be set free.
The man caught you blatantly staring, and a shit-eating grin twisted his glistening lips. “You may do the honours if you’re so keen.”
Blushing, you mumbled a shut up, but was captured by Chris’ lips, tasting your own arousal on his tongue, as his grip on you led you further into the bed, while you fumbled on the buttons of his trousers, popping them open one by one when you broke from the kiss, your turn to shower him with more along the veiny expanse of his neck as you pulled his trousers down, tossing them among the pile.
When you saw the slight-stained underwear of his, you felt the familiar throbbing again, so affected by how you affected him. Noticing your apparent pride, he pressed his lips upon you in a searing kiss, peeling off any last scrap of clothing and forgetting that too among the other clothing.
And by God, when Chris Bang’s cock escaped from his underthings your mouth actually watered at the sheer size it bore. Husky laughter resonated in your ears, and you flushed the colour of blood when he caught you staring much too audaciously than he would have imagined.
“Already fantasising about my cock?” He slurred, the tattooed hand curling stray hairs from your sweat-slick, flushed face. The way you scrunched your nose, clearly flustered by his comment, melted his stone cold heart, as he caressed your cheeks with his fingers.
You did not answer him, only whispering his name along his skin, waiting and waiting for the man to drive that force home inside you. “Chan,” you murmured, and the name you kept saying like a religious chant, like it was the only word that mattered, was what brought him to grip his cock, directing it against your entrance, the still slick folds which grew more wet every time the tip caressed the sensitive skin. “Chan, please—”
“Please what?” He demanded, demanded because he needed to hear you precisely want you wanted. The words he practically prayed would be on your tongue the moment he kissed you for the first time this evening.
Obliging him was like second nature. “Please fuck me, Chan,” you breathed out, holding onto his shoulders, knowing you were going to need a hell of a good grip for what was about to arrive. “Please, just ruin me with your cock.”
A malicious smile curled upon his lips. “Good, good girl,” he purred, and began the descend which you dreamed of the very first night you realised you were ridiculously attracted to him.
His cock slid inside you, and with a soul-wrenching whine, was perfectly snug as the journey went on, and on, and on, until you were certain you could not take anymore, despite the man retaining a few inches. He was slow at first, making sure you were not going to be pained by this action. Although your nails dug into the granite muscle of his shoulders, you only egged him on. “M-more,” you only said, and he readily obliged, until you felt him all around you in your body, as if he had filled you up to the brim.
“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he rested his forehead against yours as gently, he began to pull out.
You nearly whined at the lack of inches filling you up, but then he brought his cock back in, creating this hypnotic rhythm which was so unimaginably ethereal you felt yourself float amongst the clouds. Each thrust out and thrust in was a drive in and out of reality, with Chris Bang holding the tether of your survival, pulling you in and out of his mercy.
Gradually, he began to fasten, panting as his drove into you with more force, and when the momentum hardened, you felt your soul leave your body. His cock created wonders for you, having you scream in unimaginable pleasure, and driving your nails into his back was not enough, your lewd moaning not enough given to his sheer skill, his pure simplicity in bringing his cock back and front which had you seeing stars. Hell, Christopher Bang showed you undiscovered universes, leading you across galaxies and unfamiliar cosmos, each thrust in a different vision, and when he lifted your leg a little higher for more access, you feared that you would wake the whole docks with your groaning, for this criminal, this heartless criminal provided you with the whole universe with the simple strokes of his cock inside you, and all you could offer him were screams.
Even your reactions were pure Beethoven to his ears, relishing in your fucked out state as he gave you all he asked, driving you to the edge of the world. You, finally, clashed your lips against his, offering him sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his face and neck, and that alone had him greeting his teeth, knowing his own release was near. You were going to die if he was not given the same pleasure as you, so you reacted with each of his touches, each of his thrusts, him practically pistoning you upon this bed which very much would break.
“Ch...Chan…” you grated out, eyes blurring, vision completely fucked, “I’m...I-I—”
“I—fuck,” he too got out, for your last love mark painted onto to the curve of his neck nearly had him ruined. “I’m going to come, too, love—”
“Chan!” You whined, because the throbbing was there, and was so close that if the man did not send that last thrust home then it was all for nothing, everything that had ever happened will all be for nothing.
But he listened. The man who did not listen to anyone or anything listened, and pounded his cock so hard in approval that it had you crying out to the cosmos as you finally let go, orgasm spilling out from whatever space the residue could find between his cock. Your own release had Chris groaning louder than he had even done this entire time, praising you unconditionally, until the filth was cut off by a low curse, with his own release barrelling into you, some joining your spilled mess upon the sheets.
Chris let out a shuddering breath, slowly crossing his movement inside you. Carefully, when you stopped digging your nails into his shoulders, he pulled out, reaching for the blanket untouched and bringing it over you and him before collapsing beside you. Both of you breathed as if you had held your oxygen for a thousand years, chests rising unevenly.
A silence hung over you two, heavy yet not uncomfortable, lingering in your bedroom. Chris sat up a little, using your pillows behind him as comfort as he raked his hair back, sweat-slick all over, much like you. You held the blanket right up to your chest, hair in disarray, much like your heart. The poor organ threatened to collapse at the events.
Sneakily, you caught a glance at the greatest criminal in London, staring off at the distance, mouth set in a concentrated line. He looked dashing even in his post-sex state, the lines of his chest still stark against his sweat. You truly had never seen a man this beautiful in your life.
He turned his head to you, catching your staring, and when you tried to look away he captured his chin with his fingers, making you meet his fierce stare. Although dark, the lust had satiated, and instead held passive affection. Well, you hoped it did.
“Why do you still look away?” He demanded in a low, tired voice.
You tried to slide your gaze to the lamp, but was too bewitched by his midnight eyes. “Because you’re beautiful, Chan,” you answered, feeling the blood rush to your face.
He cocked his head, damp curls sticking to his face. “You say that as if you are not,” he countered.
You did not say anything then. Even so, he received your answer.
“____,” he said in a low tone. The grip on your chin loosened, and the hand went to your cheeks, cupping your face. “You are truly flawless. Don’t make me have to make you believe that.”
A small smile hinted at your lips. “And what if I still don’t?”
His answering smirk sent butterflies tumbling once again. After a moment, as if hesitating, he then snaked his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You were surprised when his one hand fully encircled you, while the other hand, the tattooed hand, rested upon your head, stroking your hair with his slender fingers. You did not pull away, was never going to, only wrapping your arm across his chest.
It was the first time you had ever seen Christopher Bang hug someone in his life.
“Chan?” You asked.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you get that tattoo?”
He paused for a minute, never ceasing his fingers intertwined in your locks. After a small sigh, which you felt beneath your own fingertips, he said, “It is simply something I live by.
“Non ducor duco. No one will lead me, love. Only myself.”
You pondered over the roots of this phrase, of the significance for the man you lay with.
“Good,” you said after a while. “I wouldn’t want anyone leading you either.”
With that, you gave into the soothing movement of Chris’ fingers, working lazily in your hair. And while you dozed off to sleep, the criminal mastermind of the biggest city in the world pondered some more, specifically over his motto.
NON DUCOR DUCO. A phrase which had stayed true for so long no one could ever change it.
But after tonight, as you slowly dozed off under Chris’ caresses, he wondered whether there isn’t one person he wouldn’t mind being led by.
And as he stole a soft glance at the specific person beside him, he knew.
He knew that although he will be led by no man, there is one woman who he would, to his own shock, happily be led for.
So, with that new, and slightly terrifying revelation, Christopher Bang went to sleep, knowing that someone had fucked with him and gotten away.
And he was willingly going to let it happen.
#stray kids imagines#stray kids smut#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines#stray kids dark hours#bang chan#stray kids#stray kids oneshot#kpop imagines#kpop smut#skz imagines#skz smut#chris bang#christopher bang#skz dark hours
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It’s You
Pairing: Changkyun and Reader
Group: Monsta X
Word Count: 7,433
Genre/Rating: Valentine’s Day AU - Quarantine AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Fluff - Angst - PG-13
Overview: The last thing you planned to do was celebrate Valentine’s Day. Being single on a holiday that glorified love, especially during a pandemic, was the perfect sign to stay at home to guarantee avoiding having a broken heart. Especially when Changkyun, the one who held it, seemed to have plans of his own.
Warning: Mention of past unrequited love and having a broken heart - swearing -
A/N: Happy - early - Valentine’s Day sweet peas! And yes, Changkyun from Monsta X was the winner of the “Who Do You Want to Spend Valentine’s day With,” and I had so much fun working on this piece. I’m personally not a fan of the holiday - for reasons you’ll read below - but I hope that those of y’all who do celebrate have a happy Valentine’s day, and I hope that y’all enjoy this piece and get all the chocolate that you want this year!
Tagging: @srvdyv @skyys-universe @kpophoneybunny @wheein-whanders @ezralia-writes
Music Playlist:
Main Master List:
Pinterest Mood Board:
The First Installment of the Hoe Catalog.
©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.
“Are you okay?”
Glancing over at the cell phone that was propped up on the dresser, you raised an eyebrow at the black screen. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You do know what day it is, right?”
Fingers pausing, you pressed your lips together, staring down at the button of the black jeans you had been in the middle of putting on. You had known what day it was when you went to turn off the alarm that had set for that morning. It had been painfully obvious, and as the pre-recorded song of birds chirping increased in volume, you had stared at the date for longer than you normally do.
February fourteenth.
Valentine’s Day.
“I’ve only been awake for an hour,” you said, stepping towards the closet for a shirt. It had been a miracle that Changkyun had called instead of his preferred method of randomly video calling. While it was true, you had been up for an hour, you had only started moving about to get on with the day about five minutes ago. And currently you were only wearing pants and a black lacy bra. Although, knowing him, he wouldn’t have complained.
There was rustling on his end and the clinking of a spoon hitting a glass. “I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You seemed pretty upset the other day.”
“It’s not that I’m upset…” You slipped your head through the hole of a black smocked square blouse with red flowers printed on it, adjusting the top so it sat properly. “I just...don’t like the holiday.”
Which was putting it mildly. It was more than a dislike, but as you went to look in the mirror to make sure there weren’t any tags sticking out, you silently thanked him for calling. You never hated Valentine’s Day. At its core, it was rather a sweet concept, one that year after year, a part of you hoped that maybe you’d be able to have someone to enjoy the holiday with. But after years of being single on the most romantic day, and having it ruined by dates turned sour, more often than not a dark cloud hovered overhead while you tried to simply get through the day.
You tried to find some spin on it to turn it around. Starting tomorrow and for the next week, chocolate was going to be anywhere from fifty to seventy-percent off. Sales were always fantastic no matter what the reason was. There were only so many chocolate hearts that you were capable of eating though.
“Why are you calling so early?” You said, turning the conversation back to him. It made sense why you were up – even on a Sunday there was always work to be done – for him to be awake before noon, that caused a bit of worry.
“Ah,” there was a thump that echoed on the call like he had dropped his phone, his voice sounding distant. “I have some things to get done today.”
“Yeah, but it’s nine in the morning. I thought you weren’t even coherent before noon.”
Changkyun forced out a laugh and you lightly smiled, gathering your hair into a bun before carrying him into the kitchen. Even though it was a simple phone call and was a bit distorted, it did nothing to dull the fluttering going on by the butterflies in your stomach. His lazy grin came to mind, and only ten minutes into the hour and you were smiling like a fool while stirring your coffee.
That was another reason why you weren’t entirely fond of the holiday. The entire day was dedicated to love, to telling someone that you love them, and here you were, having fallen for your friend and yet you refused to tell him. It was hard to pinpoint when these feelings began, but it was possible that they had been growing since the day you two met.
There was no doubt that you were a workaholic, always feeling weird if you bummed around for more than a few hours, so it made sense that on the rare day off that you took, something had to crash it. You had been indulging in some binge watching of your precious Inuyasha when your phone lit up with an incoming video call from Messenger. Immediately you had been hesitant. None of your friends ever video messaged you since unlike them, your cell was an android.
You hadn’t planned to answer him. Not only did you not recognize the name, or his picture - despite how attractive he appeared - but you didn’t normally answer requests from strangers. With that in mind and mildly annoyed in having to pause the episode, you were ready to hit decline and be on with the day. Except, you were a dumb ass, and hit accept by accident.
Turns out he had meant to call someone else and had been equally shocked when you answered. In fact, he had been less than classy upon seeing you in instead of his friend, the words, ‘oh, fuck me,’ slipping out before he could stop himself.
In normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes, or told him to go fuck himself, but it had been six months into the pandemic and he was the first new person that you had met in a while.
“I don’t usually fuck strangers,” you had said instead, not missing the way his eyebrow rose and how his mouth curled upwards in a smile. “But if you wanna buy me a grinder and have it delivered to my place; I might eventually be persuaded.”
There had been a tense moment, but when he let out a breathless chuckle, somehow you knew that you were in the safe zone. Turns out, the two of you had a friend in common who he had meant to call, but he hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing and accidentally clicked on your profile. The call only lasted for a few more minutes before Changkyun apologized and with an awkward wave, ended it. You stared at his profile picture and next thing you knew, you were scrolling through his pictures, oohing upon finding an old one of him with silver hair and an eyebrow piercing.
A couple hours later, there was a knock at your door and after slipping on a mask, you were greeted with a delivery man that looked no older than sixteen, announcing that he had a grinder for you. Before you could say that you hadn’t ordered anything, he promised that it had already been paid for, tip included. Not one to turn down free food, you accepted it, and saw the note that was taped to the paper bag.
I’m not a weirdo I promise. Jooheon passed along your address, and I’m not about to let someone go hungry. From, a friendly stranger who hit the wrong button.
There was no second guessing on your part. You pulled his profile back up and hit the video button, only having to wait a few seconds before his face filled the screen, locks of black hair falling across his forehead as he ruffled it up.
“Did you seriously send me a grinder?”
“You sounded hungry.”
There was a brief pause, and suddenly you were giggling, shoulders shaking as you sat down on a chair, his own deep chuckles joining in not long after. It was odd, but after that – and after confirming with Jooheon to make sure he wasn’t a creep, which you were assured he wasn’t – the two of you fell into the habit of video chatting. Some days there was nothing to say. With the pandemic raging on and everything closed, it was nice to have someone simply be there after all this time.
Fast forward five months later, the pandemic had only grown worse, and not only had Changkyun proven to be a good friend, but he managed to worm his way into your heart.
“What about you,” Changkyun suddenly asked. “You’re not actually working today, are you? Forget the holiday, it’s Sunday.”
Rolling your eyes, you went back to the bedroom with the black coffee in one hand, and him in the other. “Not all day. I have a few graphics that I want to finish up or it’ll bug me. Should only take a few hours to do.”
“Only a few hours,” he teased. “I’m willing to bet you’ll still be working tonight.”
“Will not.”
“Will too.”
“Not.”
His end grew silent, and he suddenly cleared his throat. “We’ll see about that.”
There was something about that sentence that stopped you from entering the password to your computer. Glancing away from the screen, you stared at Changkyun’s picture, wondering why his voice had softened when he had said that, as if he knew something that you didn’t.
“What is it that you have to do?” You found yourself asking him again, not looking at the keys as you logged into your laptop, the bleeding hearts screensaver appearing as the icons loaded one by one.
“Just some…stuff. I’ll probably be off my phone most of the day.”
“Oh.”
With the amount of phone calls and video chats the two of you had, it had become normal to hear from him a couple times throughout the day. The text chat was filled with various memes, emojis, and conversations that ranged from how much is too much fabric softener? - all the way to late night conversations involving stories about crazy exes, to insecurities, dreams you’ve always wanted to do, and whether or not the world would ever go back to the normal that you both had known prior to March 2020.
Wetting your lips, you leaned back against the desk chair and cradled the mug in both hands. “Well, have fun with whatever you’re doing,” you said, keeping your voice light so he wouldn’t notice the shift in your mood.
It was suddenly so obvious why he wasn’t saying what he had to do. With the holiday approaching, Changkyun had asked if you had any plans for how to spend the day, and with that came your explanation for why you weren’t overly fond of this particular day. The blind dates that ended terribly and being single had been part of the reason why, but there was one particular instance from the past that was determined to ruin Valentines every year for you.
In all the years, there was one person that you had confessed to on Valentines. Jungkook was someone you considered a friend, but you had only told him the truth to get him to shut up about his girlfriend. Up until that afternoon she had been the ex that, from your understanding, despised being in the same room as him anymore. According to him, she showed up at his place with the usual, ‘I miss you,’ and ‘let’s try again,’ and somehow that all managed to lead to wild and hot passionate sex that was, ‘insanely good.’
If only that had been it.
Whether Jungkook got caught up in reliving the moment and forgot who he was talking to, he gave you a play by play of their reunion. From the way she arrived at his door, to the way she felt around him, he told every detail all while you were on the other end of the phone, fingers twisted and tugging at your hair as you sat on the floor of your childhood bedroom. On all the days, the last thing you wanted to hear was your crush talking about having to move to the living room because his bedroom reeked from all their fucking.
The conversation didn’t last much longer, thank god, but you hadn’t been able to grieve because in the other room mom’s voice could be heard as she talked about her day at work. Instead, you forced back the tears and it took everything to not break down when she smiled and handed you an orange teddy bear holding a red heart that said I love you, along with a bag of Lindt chocolates. She was unaware, and while everyone slept, you buried your face into a couple pillows to muffle the sounds of your crying. You were only eighteen and yet you swore your heart collapsed in on itself before exploding into a million glass shards.
“That fucking dick,” Changkyun had said when you told him.
The screen had been bright as the two of you video chatted, and you rubbed your eyes, tired but not ready to go to sleep. He had been doing the rounds of locking up and shutting off the lights while you spoke, only wearing a thin pair black and blue flannel pants. At least he held the phone pretty leveled so you weren’t forced to stare at his torso, but there had been several times where you found your gaze lingering on his muscular body.
“I mean,” you ran a hand through your hair, shrugging as he looked back at you. “It happens to everyone.”
Changkyun frowned though. “No,” he said, his voice gentle but firm at the same time. “No, it doesn’t. And that shouldn’t have happened to you.”
Blinking, you forced the memory away, shifting in your seat to get comfortable once again. Just because you didn’t enjoy the holiday, or didn’t have anyone to spend it with, didn’t mean that was the case with Changkyun. Why else would he be reluctant to say what his plans were? He was probably just being nice and didn’t want to appear like he was rubbing salt into an old wound that refused to heal.
“Hey,” Changkyun’s voice softened again, and as much as you knew you shouldn’t, you wished that he was here, in the apartment with you for him to hold you. “It’s still early in the morning. For all you know, there’s a Mr. Right, who’s going to stumble into your path today.”
You scoffed, the clicking of your mouse echoing in the bedroom. “I mean, I don’t have plans to go out.”
“Surprises can happen you know.”
“Alright Changkyun,” now that the internet was up, you glanced back at the phone. “I gotta get to work. Stay safe out there.”
“Always am. Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
There was a pause, and when you looked back over, the call was still going. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for either of you to leave it going while doing work, the silence was never awkward, it was more comforting than anything, but this time there was a sense of something being left un–
“You look pretty today,” Changkyun said suddenly.
Blinking, your fingers tightened around the mouse as your heart raced. “What? You can’t even see me Changkyun.”
“So?”
“I could be wearing my pajamas for all you know,” your voice faltered, and despite the constriction of wearing jeans, you pulled your legs up on to the chair to hug them to your chest.
“I’ve already seen you in your pajamas,” he joked. “You’re still pretty though.”
He was smiling. You knew for certain that he was, and that made your palms turn clammy, forcing you to wipe them against the pant leg.
“Maybe I’m not, wearing clothes?” Internally you slapped yourself, instantly regretting those words, and perhaps your entire existence at this point. It was still early. Instead of work, maybe you could possibly bury yourself under all the blankets and never answer his phone calls again.
Hearing shuffling coming from the phone, you pressed your lips together, not entirely sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Are you trying to keep me from my plans today?” His voice deepened and if it weren’t for the fact that you were already sitting down, you were certain that you’d be on the floor.
“No, I’m just stupid,” you blurted out, slamming your hand over your mouth.
Changkyun chuckled, and suddenly the phone seemed closer to him because his voice became clearer. “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”
Oh god. No. It was absolutely the other way around. He was the one who had the advantage on his side, between the lip bites and the selfies he sent that captured his jawline that was perfect to cut glass with. Whether it was his godly features, or when the two of you were video chatting and he rolled onto his stomach and face planted himself into the pillow, you fell for him every time.
“Know what?” You rushed to say, ignoring his laughter. “I have work and you have things to do. Stay safe, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”
There was no hesitation. This time you slammed your finger on the end call button and for extra measure, tossed it away and on the bed, letting it disappear among the sea of messy blankets.
Shakily sighing, you slid further down in the chair as the edge of the desk pinned your legs to your chest to keep from falling to the ground. He had never said anything like that before. Sure, there were times where he’d see you do something or when you’d ramble on about a show or work, he’d might say cute, but that always felt like an afterthought.
“Damn it Changkyun,” you said, glaring at where you had thrown the phone and hating the fact that his words kept circling around your mind, making you feel incredibly warmer than you had been ten minutes earlier. Hating that while he was probably going to be on a date with some pretty girl who was worth his time, you were at home, working on a Sunday, wishing that the guy you hadn’t even met in person was here and telling you that in-between kisses.
You ran a hand over your face with a groan, fingers of course getting caught in the bun briefly as you sat up. There was work to be done, and with a click of the mouse, the programs you needed quickly opened up. It was fairly easy, and if you focused, would only take an hour, maybe even less to get done. But with Changkyun on the brain, all you wanted to do was curl back up under the messy blankets and daydream about him. About what it would be like to hug him, to hear his voice in person, and perhaps, spend a Valentine’s day with someone who wouldn’t let you down.
That wasn’t going to happen though. It was a daydream and nothing more.
Lacing your fingers together, you quickly turned them inward, groaning in satisfaction at the loud crack that emitted from the joints. Outside the window that the desk was placed in front of, the sun had already begun its descent for the night. The sky was painted in splashes of orange with lazy clouds slipping in, the remaining bits of blue falling steadily behind.
Despite what Changkyun had predicted, he was only partially correct. With him swimming freely in your mind, you had been distracted, lost in a hazy daydream that made it impossible to focus on the graphics that you were trying to finish up. More often than not you stepped away from the desk, feet guiding you to the other room or in small twirls with the faintest lovesick smile. It was impossible to get anything done. So, you said fuck it. It was Sunday after all, and you weren’t expected to have those scheduled to be posted for a few days. Where was the harm in having one day to yourself? One with no work whatsoever to stress you out?
With work out of the way and having no other plans, another cup of coffee had been made and in the spirit of the holiday, your gaze had lingered on the makeup that sat on the dresser. Most of it had gone unused as the weeks melted into months. Tubes of lipstick and eye shadow palettes once loved had been forgotten about, and as you recalled, the brushes that you typically forgot to clean had been washed out of pure boredom. It was with new motivation that you grabbed a majority of the collection and hopped onto the counter in the bathroom, music playing from a playlist filled with songs from your younger years that held nostalgia, and simply played around with the colors.
By the time you were done, an hour had gone by, and you gained two cut creases with glitter, contoured cheeks, painted your lips, and looked like you were ready to go out for a date out in the city to be wined and dined. Instead, you slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and slid into the kitchen with plans to see what frozen meal the freezer had to offer. If anything, it had the bare bones of a date. The location? Your couch. The hot leading man? Most likely the main character from whatever show you finally decided on after you gave a good scroll through Netflix. All you needed was utter disappointment and it could be considered a success.
You were torn between making the decision for frozen lasagna or chicken Alfredo, but a sudden and loud knock at the door stopped you. Eyebrows pulling in confusion, you carefully set the food on the counter, taking a moment to slip on the mask that you left hanging on the doorknob for situations like this. Not that they occurred often. With the exception of having food delivered, once the world realized that this pandemic wasn’t just a simple flu and doctors encouraged people to stay home, you hadn’t invited anyone over. It was lonely, and you missed your friends and family greatly, but this wasn’t a situation to take lightly.
“I’m sorry,” you said, opening the door once the fabric mask was securely on. “I think you might have the wrong…”
And you stopped. Stopped talking and stared. Stared at the man leaning against your door frame, wearing a black as ink suit jacket, a pristine white button up shirt was tucked into matching black pants, with the top several buttons undone to reveal a tanned and toned chest that you knew he took pride in considering all the gym selfies he sent. The black fabric mask he wore hid most of his face, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled together.
“I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Changkyun said, his deep voice sounding better in real life than you had expected, and dreamed of.
He pushed off of the frame and it was then that you noticed the things in his hands. In the left, was a plastic bag stuffed with packaged containers, and in the right…in his right wrapped in pink tissue paper was a bouquet of red and pink carnations with babies’ breath mixed in. There had to be at least a dozen, perhaps a baker’s dozen, if not a few extra.
There were no words. After all the books you consumed to pass the time, articles you searched for work, and even countless texts sent to friends, everything escaped you at that very moment because he was here. He was actually here and standing in front of you.
“I know you said you haven’t had anyone over since this started. But I got tested a couple days ago, came back negative, and we’ve both been working from home this entire time so if you want…” Changkyun lifted the bag he held into view and this time, you could see that even though it was triple bagged, you were able to make a red dragon printed on the cartons. “I have Chinese food, and I’m willing to bet that Netflix has something for us to watch. If you’re not comfortable though that’s fine. I have plenty of food that we can—”
Except he didn’t get to finish what he was saying before you tugged him into the apartment by his arm. Immediately, your arms wound their way around his waist and you pressed your face into his chest, tightly hugging him.
“It’s you,” you said, feeling his right arm carefully rest on your back to hold you close, all while being mindful of the flowers that he was carrying.
There was a soft chuckle from above as he laid his head on top of yours. “It’s good to finally see you too.”
Smiling, your arms tightened around him once more before you stepped backwards, letting him enter the apartment completely. “You didn’t have to bring flowers you know.”
“And show up empty handed?”
You gestured towards the table for him to set the food down, taking the flowers and going to the sink. “You bought Chinese food. That more than would have made up for no flowers.” But while the vase filled with water and you trimmed the stems, gently adding them in one by one, there was a warmth spreading within your chest that came right from the heart, even more so when he chuckled. The only people to ever buy you flowers on Valentine’s day were your parents.
Like always, the silence that followed felt natural. The only difference was that you were aware that Changkyun was moving around in the kitchen with you, getting plates and silverware out without having to ask where things were because he had seen you do the same thing countless times before while video chatting. You just never thought he was actually paying attention.
When they were all in the vase, you tossed the ends in the trash and turned around, only to see that once again, he was watching you.
“Why are you staring?”
Changkyun shrugged, running a hand through his hair as the black locks fell right back into his eyes. “I was right.”
Tilting your head, you walked over to the table and set the vase in the center. You were already so close to him, but he leaned his head down, the black fabric of his mask brushing against the top of your ear.
“That you look pretty,” he said softly. “And it’s not because of the makeup. I had a feeling you might dress up today; you look beautiful.”
The air that you had been breathing was instantly stolen, and when you made the mistake of looking up at him, you realized just how close the two of you were. If it weren’t for the masks you both wore…
“You don’t look half bad yourself,” you teased, trying to not glance at where his lips would be. “You’re a lot taller than messenger video makes you out to be.”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed. Straightening up, Changkyun slipped his suit jacket off and set it on the back of a chair to undo the buttons on his cuffs, taking the time to roll each sleeve up to his elbows. “You’re meaner in person.”
Good god. You knew that he worked out, but damn. Maybe not for the first couple weeks, eventually Changkyun fell into the habit of sending selfies while he was working out at the gym. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but seeing his tanned arms and the white sleeve making its way up to his elbow, it sparked the butterflies and gave them a newfound fluttering energy.
“Do you wanna eat or not?” Not thinking of it, you reached up to unhook the elastic from around your ears, removing the mask and setting it back on the counter. With a glance up at him, you saw him raise an eyebrow before he mimicked your movements to take off his own mask, revealing the jaw that tempted your daydreams in more ways than you wished.
He smiled, and you handed him his plate and together, the two of you fixed up heaping plates of Chinese food, using the concept of needing to eat to distract yourself. Everything was still hot and as you settled on the couch, steam curled its way up into the air.
“Were you able to get your secret plans done today?” You asked, glancing over at him while Netflix loaded up on the TV screen.
“Why are you so interested in what I had to do?” He was focused on the dumpling that he held with the chopsticks, not meeting your gaze at all.
It wasn’t that you meant to be focused on that. But he had acted so suspicious on the phone earlier, and now he was here, having dinner in your apartment with enough Chinese food to cost a small fortune, along with sixteen carnations – yes, you counted while cutting them – on Valentine’s Day. There had been no warning, and as much as you wanted to believe that he was here for more than a friendly drop in, the idea of him having been on a date earlier in the day and was here to talk about it, about the possible other girl, killed the butterflies. You had already been through this once, you didn’t want to go through it again. Not with him.
Scrolling through the list of suggestions, you didn’t notice Changkyun looking over at you, or the way his face softened. His fingers tightened around the chopsticks and he leaned back against the cushion.
“What’s that one about?” He nodded towards one of the movies that was in the watch again section.
You raised an eyebrow, scrolling over to it. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve never seen Love Actually?”
“If I did, would I have asked what it’s about?”
Unable to stop yourself, an undignified sound escaped you as you wildly gestured with the remote. “How? It’s like the sweetest romance, Christmas movie ever. They play it every year. It even has Liam Neeson, the man promising to find and kill everyone, as a sweet dad who doesn’t kill anyone! That alone is a true Christmas miracle by itself.”
The thought of him being with someone else dissipated at the sound of his laughter. Even caught up in the excitement of this particular movie, you couldn’t stop the smile that grew. No matter what, even in real life or over video, you always found yourself grinning the second he laughed or smiled. He was without a doubt contagious, in the best way possible.
“What are you waiting for?” He said, gesturing towards the screen with the chopsticks, shoulders relaxing at the sight of your smile and apparent joy for the film. One that he had in fact, seen a few times over the years. “Press play.”
There was no hesitation. You were determined to culture him in what you deemed to be a classic in romance films. So, as you comfortably settled in, belly growing full of warm and delicious food, you once again missed Changkyun’s wide smile. It was the kind of grin that no matter what he did, or how serious he tried to be, simply wouldn’t go away.
The empty dinner plates sat long forgotten about on the coffee table as another movie played, this one involving an action pack fight scene with aliens in New York City. Hours had passed since Changkyun arrived at your door, and despite it growing late and Valentine’s Day was nearing its end, his polished shoes were unlaced and tossed on the floor. A wine bottle had been opened up, and you sat much closer to him to share a blanket with him. You were blaming it on the wine for being so bold because when he stretched an arm on the back of the couch, you didn’t think twice about gently leaning your head against it.
You couldn’t even really blame it on the wine. It was the first glass for both of you, and you were a slow drinker, so you were as sober as a newborn lamb at the moment.
It was just like when the two of you would video chat with the same movie on, but so much better. Having him here, you were noticing the smallest things that you’d miss when on the phone. At the base of his neck was a small mole that you never realized he had, or that he was wearing two thin silver chains – a pair that, now that you thought about it, he never went without. Behind you, he’d occasionally rub his fingers together and the metal of his bracelet would lightly clink against itself. With the few glances that you stole, his attention was solely on the movie and his jaw appeared to be pressed together.
Feeling a sudden weight, you turned to see him settling his arm around your shoulders. His wrist was now hanging over your arm, and it took all your willpower to not reach up with a free hand to lace your fingers loosely with his. When you glanced back up at him, he was in mid sip of his wine, throat bobbing with each swallow.
Shit. This was not helping the butterflies that seemed to have multiplied since his arrival.
Changkyun raised an eyebrow when he lowered his glass, softly humming in question, but you only shook your head and focused back on the movie. Except, now you were hyper aware that he was looking at you this time.
“What’s wrong?” He murmured, his thumb and fingers lightly rubbing against your arm.
That was another thing. His voice was deep. In the calls, the phone occasionally cracked and had made it seem lighter, but it appeared to be just the opposite. He was blessed with a voice that was able to drop lower than a bass, sending your insides to mush when he spoke. It was the type of voice that was destined to recite poetry and old sonnets, to hold three in the morning conversations that went wherever and everywhere. When he called your name, it never failed to send tingles running the length of your body. It was his voice, and you knew that you’d never grow tired of hearing him talk.
“Nothing. I was just thinking,” you said, leaning your head back, his arm comfortable and warm as you looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze for a few seconds.
His fingers didn’t stop. The gentle caress, a small reassurance that he was in fact here and this wasn’t your imagination, made it harder to stay where you sat instead of curling into his side like you wanted.
“Thinking about what?”
Letting out a breathless scoff, you tilted your head towards him. Changkyun was a sight to see and you knew that if this was the only time you got to spend with him in person, you were never going to forget this moment.
Your smile softened. “That you’re actually here, after all these months of texts and video calls. You actually came here, and you’re real.”
“Did you think I was a robot or something?” Changkyun teased, but his fingers stopped moving, and that lock of hair fell back into his eyes again.
“Well, you did accidentally call me instead of Jooheon and last time I checked, we look nothing alike.” There was no thinking as you reached up and mimicked his movements to push that damn lock back, feeling how soft his hair was. It brought you a little bit closer to him and in that second, the world suddenly felt like it was no longer moving when you glanced down at his lips. Those pink lips that you wondered and dreamt about night after night, too curious for your own good on what it would be like to kiss him. Now was your chance to find out, especially when he didn’t lean back and appeared to be getting closer.
“Cookies?” You suddenly asked, leaning back to see his eyebrows start to pull together in confusion. Heart racing, you set your wine glass on the coffee table and walked around the couch to step into the kitchen. With only your back to him, you quietly let out a shaky breath. “I know I have some for us to munch on…”
Opening up a cabinet, you stretched on to your toes to search for the package of cookies that you knew were in there, mentally slapping yourself at having done that. He hadn’t backed away, hadn’t tried to stop you, in fact, if you allowed yourself to believe it, you would have recalled that he had started to lean in when you randomly brought up cookies. As much as you wanted to, the last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship.
You were pushing aside a box of crackers when his hand captured your wrist, halting your search. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its cage when his fingers gently wrapped around your hand, and when his palm settled on a hip, it was equally as comforting as it lit a spark inside you. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to melt into his embrace.
“Sweetheart, do you really think I’m here to just hang out?” He asked, his voice low as he spoke into your ear, his body stepping closer to yours.
“You’re…you’re not?” You weakly asked, nervous because you didn’t want this all to be a joke.
The idea of this being a one night only thing thanks to the holiday left an ache in your bones. You wanted more nights like this with him, wanted to hear him call out your name with that gentle smile of his over and over again. Dammit, you wanted to wake up and have the blankets be stifling hot but not care as you crawled over to his side of the bed, searching for morning cuddles because fuck the person who decided that the workday would start at eight in the morning. The only person you wanted to spend this quarantine with, to be able to touch, to be worried and even scared about all this with, was Changkyun.
Changkyun’s breath hit the back of your neck as he softly chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine. “God, I thought I was being obvious. Let me try this differently.”
Still holding on to your wrist, he turned you around and once you were facing him, let go of your hand to step closer until your back was against the counter. With each breath your chest brushed against his, and when he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear, fingers brushing against your cheek, you almost forgot to breathe.
“I know you’ve always had a pretty crappy Valentine’s day,” Changkyun softly spoke. His gaze was steady with yours, and even though he was being serious, there was a softness to his features that had the corner of his mouth curling upwards. “And I thought that the best way to keep that from repeating this year, would be if you spent it with someone, who loves you.”
Who loves…oh.
It suddenly all made sense. Why he didn’t want to say what he was doing to celebrate, him calling you pretty, the food and flowers, the coaxing touches, he could have rented a billboard and put up a neon flashing sign and you probably still would have been blind.
“Changkyun,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek.
He softly smiled as he closed the remaining space between you to rest his forehead against yours, his palms sliding along your body until he had you wrapped in a hug. “There you go, now you get it.”
Giggling, you rolled your eyes out of habit. It was like him to be a smart ass during a moment like this. With that being said, the butterflies fluttered their way up to your heart, and all the daydreams that you entertained and thought nothing would come of them, now had the possibility of becoming reality.
“I love you too,” you said, running your thumb along his cheek as you watched his smile widen.
There was no hesitation, or smart ass comments this time. Instead, when his lips met yours in a kiss, your heart stopped racing. The butterflies finally calmed down and the world around you went out of focus as your fingers slid through his hair. His lips were soft, and thanks to the red wine, there was a lingering tangy sweetness that reminded you of raspberries. You found yourself becoming addicted to his taste, the kisses melting together until you lost track of how long the two of you stood there, content with doing nothing but being wrapped up in each other’s embrace.
A clock chimed out in the apartment, breaking the kiss which only served to make you pout at the loss of his lips. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Changkyun, who smirked before leaning down to give one more kiss, which quickly turned into two, then three.
“Don’t you have work in the morning?” He murmured, resting his forehead once more against yours.
“You trying to kiss and dash?”
His fingers gently pressed into your sides and you squirmed at his touch, giggling at his antics. However, he leaned his head back and sighed. “Like hell I’d do that. But you usually wake up earlier for work, and trust me, I’ll end up keeping you awake if I stay the night.”
There was no doubt about that, and to be truthful, you’d have no issue if that was the case. He was right, but as ideas turned in your mind, you shrugged. “You can’t go out driving though,” you said softly. “You were drinking.”
Changkyun frowned, head tilting as he removed a hand from your back to run through his hair. “Not even a whole glass.”
You raised an eyebrow. It took him having to say he loved you for you to understand how he felt about you despite his dine and wine attempt, and here he was, completely missing what you were suggesting. Either you were absolutely perfect for each other, or equally dense.
“Well, we also broke quarantine,” you said slowly, slipping a finger through his belt loop at the same time to bring him closer. “Isn’t the recommendation to stay at home for what, at least three days?”
He started to tilt his head, mouth opening to question what you were saying until he saw the smile growing on your face. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips together before looking back at you.
“That was horrible,” Changkyun said. He slipped his arms back around you, pulling you away from the counter. His grin said otherwise. “At least I tried being romantic.”
“Well, I mean, if you really want to go back to your place by yourself…”
He didn’t let you say another word, his lips reclaiming yours again, because there was absolutely nothing that felt better than kissing you after months of dreaming what it would be like.
“Don’t go,” you softly murmured against his lips. “Not when you just got here.”
Maybe it was selfish. But you didn’t want to be alone again. Not when he had gone through so much trouble to make this night special, not when you finally knew that he felt the same way about you. After almost a year of staying inside the apartment whenever you could, of going without hugs or get togethers, being able to touch and kiss Changkyun felt like you were relearning what those were all over again. All you wanted was a few days with him.
Changkyun hummed, his arms tightening around you. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he said, gazing down at you as if he had considered the same thing.
The clock that had rang out to announce the hour of a new day and that Valentine’s day was over, continued to quietly tick in the other room. The Earth continued to spin, and outside, the world was exactly how it had been this morning, full of fear, what ifs, and the unknown of a pandemic that didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.
But inside that small apartment, wrapped in Changkyun’s arms, giggles and laughter filled the walls when he pulled you to the middle of the kitchen and spun you around for a late-night dance. It might not be the thing that changes the world, but for the first time, in a long time, hope began to blossom alongside the butterflies in your stomach. The memories of past Valentine’s days melted away at his kiss, until only the memory of him at your door remained.
Even when it hadn’t felt like it, love and hope had always been there. And now it was here promising lovelier days to come.
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Floraison | 4
genre: fantasy/soulmate au
warnings: it kinda gets angsty, smut (in the future)
word count: 3.6k
pairings: ot7 x reader
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
A/N: omg omg aaaaa sorry for taking so long!! honestly, it wasn’t easy writing this one because of my insomnia. i just wrote whatever came to mind, so i hope you’ll understand (you can roast me) D: oh, and there’s a surprise at the end!! lol i hope y’all won’t hate it
Jeongguk really did end up sleeping beside you after all. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone. He held your small frame against his lean body, your quiet breaths subtly tickling his neck like a feather.
He'd been awake for some time now, but didn't want to go outside yet. Not when you were fluffy and warm, all curled up tightly next to him. He glanced at your sleeping face, lips parted slightly and breathing softly.
It made a lot of sense why the three of them already felt so attached to you. How your senses calmed within seconds when Namjoon touched the crown of your head earlier. You were their mate. Once a soul finds their other half, it was impossible not to be away from them.
That's what he felt for the others, and now, you. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the bedroom door creaking slowly, a disheveled Taehyung peering in, still very much half asleep.
"Is our princess here?" The older asked, rubbing at his eyes which were red from fatigue. Jeongguk motioned for him to join in, wanting to stay until they had to leave the room for breakfast. The former ambled over to the bed, not hesitating to reach over and wrap his arms around you. Your scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Celestial and flowery—such a pleasant aroma.
The sudden movements brought you out of sleep, and you opened your eyes to see another stranger. Shaggy brown hair, strong eyebrows, sharp jaw, and what an adorable boxy smile he has.
"Hello, darling." His husky voice made you shiver, and the action wasn't missed by the two. Your cheeks flushed with pink, reddening even more when Taehyung brought his face closer. He held eye contact, but you couldn't do it so you turned to the other side, where Jeongguk happily opened his arms for you, caging you in when you scooted forward.
"Gguk?" His heart does a little flip at the nickname you gave him and smiles at the sight of the blush adorning your cheeks, realizing albeit too late at how you were practically attached to his hip. Had anyone else been that close, you would have felt your space was being invaded, but in this case, the faint smell of his cologne and his close proximity increased your pulse rate. Your arms were still around the boy, clinging to him like a koala, and you awkwardly clear your throat.
"Hey, no fair," Taehyung pressed his face into your hair and smiled when he heard you giggling. The three of you settled into a comfortable silence, Tae's breathing was fanning over neck, while the other's fingers danced on the small of your back, massaging the skin every now and then.
Their actions combined turned you putty in their grasp. You nuzzled your face into Jeongguk's neck, almost purring while you gave him the attention he'd been wanting to get from you all morning.
The men had smiles plastered on their faces as you continued to lavish his neck with affection. You may not know exactly what you were doing, but they did, and it made their hearts soar in happiness. You were claiming them, as your soulmates, and you were unaware of that. The feeling it gave brought you peace. At that moment, you understood each other perfectly. This is what you've always longed for. Tranquility. The stirrings of revolutionary ardour. A sort of freedom, if you will.
A gentle knock from the doorway brought the three of you from your daze."Breakfast is ready," Jin smiles at you lovingly. Taehyung almost wanted to protest, but he wouldn't want to keep you from eating. and so he forced himself up, pulled you with him and laughed at Jeongguk who was trying to fix his unkempt state.
The elder came over and took your hand, leading you out the room and down the stairs, into the dining hall. Everyone was already gathered around the table that was filled with scrumptious-looking food.
That's when the others took notice of your presence. You were indeed beautiful, just like how Jeongguk described you. Your gray eyes were what stood out to them the most. A tell-tale sign that you are one of the stars from above. Deep as the ocean, deep enough to fall in and drown, the windows to your soul were. With a simple glance, she could calm a torrid sea of heart ache. Longingly they looked at her, with the warmth of a hearth during Winter's Eve, deep in the forest wherein lovers would share the fire. Perfectly wonderful and endlessly enticing them, every blink a kiss to their soul. They almost melted at the sight.
"Jimin and Hoseok went a little overboard this time," Jin says with a chuckle. He led you to an empty chair that was next to Yoongi. He sent you a smirk, picking at your messy ponytail. "Fucking cute." You smiled shyly as he laughed softly at your reaction. Jimin took the seat alongside you and started placing food on your plate. You thanked him, and he gave you a pat on the head in response.
"These taste amazing," you said, as you happily munched on your baked cinnamon donuts. The cooking duo didn't know they were holding their breaths until they heard your affirmation. They tried not to be obvious with their staring, but both of them wanted to see how you would react to their cuisine, making a mental note to make these again for you whenever.
You took a slug of your drink, all the while glancing at the sea of new people. To your right was Yoongi, features akin to origami. Sharp edges and angles. Cute button nose, and lips carved like a doll's. For an adorable face, he has such an intimidating glare. You turned to Jimin next, whose jawline was pronounced, lips full and pillowy, and has straight eyebrows. He regarded you with warmness, like a mother would tend to their child. and Lastly, Hoseok—the boy was sunshine personified. The brightness in his eyes reminded you of home. A heart-shaped mouth with a beauty mark placed just between the cupid's bow and vermillion border. He also has dimples like Namjoon's.
"So, darling, how did you meet the youngest of our bunch?" Taehyung asks, rousing you from your reverie. You were now aware that all of them were staring at you curiously, and it made you want to bury yourself inside a hole. You tried not to let the memories resurface, but his face flashed in your mind, making you drop your utensils. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Thank you for the hospitality, it was well received, but I should go."
"Sweet one—"
"No!" Your sudden outburst surprised them. "I should leave.. I don't want to cause you any trouble.." the stare shared between everyone went unnoticed by you. Jin carefully made his way towards your chair and knelt so he was eye-level with you. Your head was pointing on the floor, eyes downcast, and he took that as a sign you were feeling dejected. He tilted your chin up, only to see tears gathering in your eyes, making Tae feel bad.
"It's okay, little one. We won't hurt you. You can be honest with us." He spoke, sincerity filling your ears. You tried to tell if he was lying, but the way he was looking at you told you otherwise. Yoongi's hand smoothed your hair down, the motion quickly lulling you into a sense of security. You gathered your courage and responded in a meek voice, "I had a previous master, and it took me so long to realize he was treating me badly.."
The word master made bile rise in each of the men's throats. They can only imagine what horrors you went through. Stars, like you, are a kind of rare breed that is gifted by the star goddess. You harness multiple powers, one of which being pyrokinesis, the ability to command and emit fire at will. However, your inability to get a handle on your newfound gifts inevitably results in tragedy. When you turned a certain age, you emitted a burst of fire so immense that it destroyed a city block, killing your entire family and everyone else in the vicinity, having no other choice but to leave your home planet, Stellaris. That's when you turned to Asteria, asking the goddess for a new life and change of scenery. She was hesitant to send you somewhere far away, so she settled for earth, where your soulmates were. Except, you ended up in the wrong hands.
A hybrid smuggler, perhaps? breeds like you cost more than an arm and a leg. Maybe the power you possessed is what drew him in. He manipulated you, used you to fight against dangerous paranormal phenomena. You knew you had to get away—you weren't even supposed to meet him. The bastard took you against your will, threatening to send you back if you didn't listen. You lost the battle because of your naivety.
"Does anyone want dessert?" Jeongguk spoke up, trying to keep everyone's mood from lowering as they learned about your life history. "We won't give you back to him, Y/N," The elder states, eyes boring into yours with determination. You wanted to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. "You needn't worry, lovely. We will do no such thing." Jimin reached for your hand and held it to his chest. Still unable to find your voice, you settled with a small nod, making the boys smile from ear to ear.
"Here," Yoongi nudges your shoulder in a gentle manner as he positioned his fork close to your mouth. It had a piece of steak and nicely cut asparagus on it. "You need protein in order to stay strong, our pretty kitten." he says, almost stuttering as the pet name escapes his tongue without realizing it, it's glossed over though.
You blushed, eyes turning into half-moons as your lips curved upward. "Thank you, yoonie." He'd get so soft after hearing you call him with a sweet endearment. Yoongi's gummy smile was showing, and you couldn't help the butterflies flittering inside your tummy after seeing him smile adorably. The man was usually pretty good at hiding his feelings but, somehow, he was horrible at doing that right now because you were currently in his radar.
"Alright. Since we're finished with dinner, why don't we clear the table?" Jin declared, while everyone lifted themselves from their seats. Taehyung piled most of the dirty dishes, placing them in the sink. You helped collect the cups and followed suit, watching Hoseok as he turned the faucet on with a sponge in hand. "Can I help?" You tugged on his sweater, your shy demeanor made him want to coo at you.
"Of course, little one. You can dry the dishes and Jeonggukie will put them away," The younger's ears perked at the mention of his name, reaching for a towel that was hanging on one of the kitchen cabinets and handed it you, caressing your cheek with his free hand in the process. The others observed the scene, tenderness painting their expressions. It seemed more evident that you fit in perfectly with every passing moment. You belonged here, with them.
"I'll be in my office. Got some digging to do," The elder mouthed at Yoongi, almost having trouble catching the words because he was deep in thought. Chances are, that son-of-a-bastard owner must be looking for you, but there was no way in hell they were going to give you back to him. Not if you didn't want to go willingly. The idea saddened him, because seeing how the younger ones had already taken such a liking to you, it made him feel protective.
"Would you like to watch a movie with us, Y/N-ie?" Jimin came up behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder as you dried the last bowl. Jeongguk takes the plate from your hands and presses a kiss to your temple.
"A movie? I've only ever seen one film though.." Hoseok beckons you over to him and holds out his hand. You let him guide you through the hallways, leading you back up the stairs and into a bathroom. Your eyes widened as you noticed it was huge and prettily decorated, you dare say it might even be bigger than your master's headquarters. He disappears for a hot minute to get something before stepping in, holding a pair of new sleepwear for you to use. You took the soft material from him, and smiled in thanks.
You eye at his arms, one pulling a rectangular, sheer-white cloth made of linen out of a cabinet, the other, a crystal bottle. he leans over the bathtub, turning the tap on and let water fill the tub before pouring the liquid. The sweet smell invaded your senses, automatically putting you in a good mood.
"You're all set. I put the clothes on the counter. We'll be waiting—" He turned his back to you, wanting to leave you to yourself but you cut him off when a whine left your lips. Immediately, he was by your side again, asking you what he possibly did wrong.
"Can't you stay, hobi? I don't want to be left alone.." You felt safe with him. His heart swells with pride. Although the idea of being with you in the same room, having nothing to cover your body made his heart race and face flush. He mentally slapped himself for thinking such vulgar thoughts. Now is not the time, you idiot, the voice in his head kept him in check, and he was grateful.
"I can help you wash your hair," He offered, high-fiving himself for not stuttering. "I'll wait outside. Just call for me, princess. okay?" You hummed in reply. You rid yourself of your dress, letting the fabric pool around your feet and stepped into the bathtub, submerging your body in the water and letting the warmth seep through your aching muscles, releasing all the tension.
You scrubbed at every part, making sure to remove the hidden grime found on your skin. Soon enough, your entire body was clean. Your natural glow was back. You reminded yourself to thank him later for making the water all sudsy because bubbles are always fun to play with."Hobi, I'm ready!" You folded your knees up to your chest just in time as Hoseok walks inside, not forgetting to shut the door behind him.
He sat at the edge of the tub, ready to lather your hair with shampoo when he sees the lines scattered across your back. The atmosphere turned gray. He stopped on his tracks. His gaze darkened. Of course he had to mask it—he didn't want to make you feel sad again, so he takes a deep breath, and decides to inform the others about this matter later. Your well-being was his first priority at present.
Silence fills the room as he massages the product on your beautiful locks. You didn't forget to thank him, mumbling as you relaxed at his touch. He looked at your small form sorrowfully, kept himself from asking for fear of you possibly running away. He only hopes that the time you'll open up to them will come in the twinkling of an eye.
"Everything's going to be fine now, sweetheart. We won't bring you back," you carefully maneuvered your body to his front, the water swishing around the tub at your movement. Your collarbones were showing, complexion looking a bit smooth, reminding him of rose-tinged ivory. You're looking better now, the pink in your cheeks much more visible compared to earlier.
"I can stay?" You bit your lower lip, shoulders shrinking. You wanted to stay here forever, but there was a strong likelihood they would change their minds. Because who would want someone broken? Someone like you?
"We all want you to stay, Y/N. Even if it means forever." Hoseok promises, running his forefinger along your jawline, tilting your head up so you were gazing into his dark orbs, slowly pulling you in like a vortex. "There's seven of us, baby doll. No matter what happens, We'll keep you safe." Why were these people so willing to help? It made you want to breakdown and cry, but you willed yourself not to."Okay, hobi." He smiled, kissing your forehead sweetly.
He pulled himself from the bathtub, the smile never leaving his face as he moved out of the room. You smiled in return as he shut the door, stretching your body in the water once more and stood, reaching for the towel, wrapping it around yourself. After getting dressed in the clothes your hobi got for you, you folded the dress and bundled it up in your arms before leaving the bathroom.
"I'll put those in the wash," Jin says as he ran into you, taking the clothes and continued his walk down the hall. You watch him disappear into another room further ahead and made your way to the living room. Upon entering, you found most of them gathered on the couch or seated on the floor, blankets covering their lower bodies.
You were glued to your spot, not quite sure where to sit. A few seconds later, The elder reappears and quietly takes your hand in his, leading you to an empty space beside Jeongguk and sat on the couch, ushering you to sit on the floor right in front of him, solving your little dilemma. You leaned back against his legs and he starts running his hands through your hair, smoothing out any tangled strands. To say you were content would be an understatement; you felt so at home. so peaceful. so cared for.
"Everyone ready?" Taehyung asks, a chorus of agreements resonating throughout the room. The boys settled into comfortable positions, while Jin's hands stayed on your locks, his nails subtly scratching your scalp. An hour later, the credits were finally rolling. Jin looked over to see both you and Jeongguk peacefully snoring, head resting on his shoulder as your quiet breaths lulled him into a deep slumber.
"We should move them, Jin. They'll wake with sore necks if we leave them be," Namjoon says, rising from his seat, gesturing at the others to clean up before lifting you from the ground. He makes his way into their shared bedroom, where four of the elders in the group sleep. He situates you on Yoongi's bed, placing an extra pillow under your head so you won't be uncomfortable whilst in dreamland.
"Sleep well, princess. You are safe here, with us." He caresses your cheek affectionately. "If he does find you, we won't let him take you."
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ
"He what?" Yoongi slams his fists on the table, anger flashing over his features. He couldn't understand. He did not want to understand either. How heartless would a human have to be to actually inflict injuries upon such precious beings like you? Just across from him was where Namjoon and Jin were seated, the former tonguing at his cheek as he tried to control his raging emotions. He was fuming. On the other hand, Jin and the rest remained dead silent. The atmosphere thickens with visible tension, each of the men taken aback by the information as Hoseok relayed it.
"Shouldn't we report this to the peacemakers?" Jeongguk turns to his elders, eyes pleading for justice. But the younger knew they possibly couldn't let this matter fall into their hands. The uproar it would cause would surely put different worlds to engage in a war. Everyone knew not to mess with Asteria's children. Because to hurt them, would mean facing one's immediate death.
"We can't, young one." Jin reaches for the younger's hand, looking a little crestfallen. "Besides, I heard the bastard got beaten to a pulp by his own shields because they simply couldn't let him step over them anymore," The elder says bitterly.
"Serves that fucker right," Yoongi scoffs, smirking triumphantly. The man must be trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, he thinks to himself, leaning back against his chair, one leg crossing over the other. At least you can live a peaceful life now, without having to worry about anything or anyone else but yourself. That's what mattered to them the most.
The soft padding of your feet down the stairs alerted the men that you have risen, your soft sobs reaching their ears as you were getting nearer. Namjoon didn't hesitate to meet you halfway, scooping you up into his arms and hugged you for the longest time. “Did you have a bad dream, sweetheart?” He wipes your tears away with his thumb, all the while placing lots of kisses on your forehead, nose, and temples.
He walks back to the dining room, refusing to place you back down on the floor, your face buried into his neck because you were too shy to face the others. Tears continue to fall from your eyes. You’re scared, the nightmares made you terrified. “Hey, it’s okay, baby girl,” Yoongi saunters over to your side and holds your face, brushing the tears on your cheeks and gives you another set of kisses on your eyelids, the rest joining in to surround you with worried looks. “It’s okay. We’re right here, princess. You’re alright. You have us. You're okay."
You cried on Namjoon's chest, sobs turning into sniffles after a period of time. You eventually fell back asleep, with them giving you all of their soft reassurances, and Namjoon's hand stroking your hair gently. You looked so vulnerable and so lovely that it made him want to shun you from the world. Oh, what a dangerous world earth was.
But the thing is, you didn’t know you were lucky to have seven, powerful gods disguised as humans, as your soulmates.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#jimin x reader#jimin x you#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#jin x reader#jin x you#hoseok x reader#hoseok x you#bts x reader#bts x you#bts fluff#bts angst#bts imagine#ot7 x reader#ot7 fanfic#bts fanfic#bts poly#bts god au#bts soulmate au
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SURPRISE! , kms
kim minseok x fem! reader
IN WHICH minseok wants to spend his 31st birthday at home with his wife and cat but you have other plans that may or may not involve a surprise birthday party. (based on the second prompt from this post by @creativepromptsforwriting)
genre: married/domestic & non-idol au! fluff, humor
word count: 3.0k
warnings: swearing, light sexual references/jokes, implied sexual content (it gets a tad spicy at times but nothing explicit), chaos, minseok’s butt being The Bomb Dot Com™ (sorry not sorry)
author’s note: happy birthday to my ray of sunshine, kim minseok! i love you so so much darling, i hope your day is filled with so much happiness and celebration. hope this lil piece can help y’all celebrate min’s 31st with me <3
it’s not the 26th yet where i live lmao but it is in korea so yeah! once again have a happy happy birthday minseok, i love you endlessly and forever. <33
MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON’T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3
One day.
One day until Minseok’s birthday, and you were scrambling from bakery to bakery to try and get the perfect cake for him. There were flaws in every place you’ve been: too expensive, the designs were not creative enough, blah blah blah. You wanted his day to be as perfect as possible, and what would be the point of that if the cake was nothing but?
Everything else was all ready. You invited all of yours and his closest friends to your house the night of Minseok’s birthday for a surprise party. You planned on keeping Minseok out of the house for the entire day as your friends decorated the house.
He didn’t want a party. He made that abundantly clear to you as soon as March began. He incessantly told you that all he wanted was a day off from teaching so he could spend the whole day with you and your cat. All he wanted was a nice and relaxing day with his wife. You understood, obviously. But you also wanted to go all out and throw a surprise birthday bash for your husband celebrating his thirty-first year on Earth. Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae’s incessant whining and begging for an excuse to have a party only aided in your need to have a party.
You ended up settling with a simple Carvel ice cream cake from the frozen section of the grocery store. You made a mental note to ask Yixing to write out “Happy Birthday Minseok” the next day as you left the store.
You came home to your husband holding a feather toy over your cat, Tan’s head. She pawed at the red feather, always at the cusp of grabbing it before Minseok moved the line away from her. He cooed at the animal, making soft kissing sounds as he continued to play with her.
Realizing that he may see the cake, you tucked the grocery bag under your shirt in an attempt to hide it from him, shivering at the cold contact the frozen treat made with your skin. The rustling of the plastic bag caused Minseok to look up at you. He gave you a gummy smile as you walked past him and Tan.
“Well hello to you too, honey. What’s under your shirt?” Minseok asked playfully, wiggling his eyebrows as he made eye contact with your chest. You realized that hiding the bag did not do much to hide the cake, as the shape of the large box combined with the plastic grocery bag greatly protruded from the fabric of your shirt.
“Nothing, it’s for tomorrow. Don’t wanna ruin the surprise, hm?” you mused, blowing him an air kiss before retreating to your office. He "caught” your kiss with a smile before going back to playing with Tan.
You entered your office and placed the plastic bag onto your desk. You ran to lock the door before opening the bag and taking the cake out, sighing in relief that the cake did not get ruined. You bent down to your mini-fridge and opened the small door of the freezer compartment and placed the cake inside, glad that it could fit inside. After locking the fridge, you exited your office and made your way downstairs to spend time with your loving husband.
You awoke the next day curled up in Minseok’s arms. You cuddled closer to him before jolting upwards in realization. Today was finally the day! You bent down and began showering your sleeping husband with excited kisses, trailing a hand down his bicep. He let out a sleepy groan as he stirred, wrapping his strong arms around your figure.
“Aah, what’s gotten into you baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse from just waking up.
“Happy birthday, Min!” you beamed, pecking him on the lips. He grinned tiredly as he kissed you on the lips.
“Mmmh, thank you honey.” You grinned as you kissed him again. This kiss lasted longer than the previous ones and slowly yet surely grew more heated. You moved yourself so you were straddling him, not breaking the kiss. He hummed against your lips as you slid your hand underneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his toned stomach. He groaned as his hands made their way down to your ass, squeezing harshly. You bit back a moan as you slowly slid his shirt up his chest, breaking the kiss to ogle at his abs.
“Babe... don’t we need to get ready?” Minseok groaned as you pulled the shirt over his head. You latched your lips onto his neck and softly bit down, eliciting a raspy moan from your husband.
“Shh, let me give you your first gift.” you purred, moving your hands toward the waistband of his boxers.
The mall was packed to the brim with people from all different walks of life. Gossiping teenagers, sleep-deprived parents following their energetic kids around, old couples window shopping, you name it. You walked through the giant Macy’s and into the main hub of the mall hand in hand with Minseok.
Since you started dating, it has been a tradition for you to buy each other’s gifts the day of your respected birthdays. You’d usually scour Amazon or websites of your favorite brands all day and end up splurging half your monthly paychecks on each other. But on occasion, today included, you’d take your shopping day to the local mall as a means to get out of your apartment and actually go out for once.
After an... eventful... morning, you rushed to get dressed and usher your husband out of the house, since the boys were coming over at 11, and it was 10:55 by the time you got into the car and sped away toward the mall.
You pointed out a newly opened jewelry store and pulled Minseok inside with you. You looked at him lovingly as he browsed the display of a multitude of different rings. He’d softly mutter to himself as he picked up ring after ring: trying to see what would look best next to his wedding band, what the right price was, if the store even provided the correct size. You loved how organized he was.
Your silent admiring was interrupted by the familiar chime of your phone, indicating you got a text message. You let out a sigh as soon as you saw who the message was from.
operation minseok’s 31st🥳
jun-bug: (y/n) we have a problem
(y/n): oh god what happened
yee-xing: baekhyun dropped the cake
(y/n): he did what
bacon: cant u read (y/n) i dropped the fucking cake
11 minutes late: no need to be rude xoxo
(y/n): yeah baek u don’t want me to leave my stunning husband inside the jewelry store, come home and mutilate you for dropping his cake and get arrested on his special day (:
kyung-soup: oddly specific but i’m here for it
jong-waeeee: off topic but the sign says “minseop” instead of “minseok”
(y/n): jun, yixing and kyungsoo you better get this settled or else i’m gonna kill all of you
nini bear: yes ma’am ofc ma’am we will do this correct
chain-yeol: yeah i don’t wanna die today
“Everything okay?”
You quickly locked your phone and threw it inside your purse before making eye contact with Minseok. You nodded a bit too quickly, panic washing over you like a giant wave from the ocean.
“Yeah, everything’s dandy.” you sputtered. Oh, why did this have to happen right now? You silently prayed that everything was going to go well. It had to.
“You sure?”
“Positive. Did you choose something?” Minseok nodded as he handed you a box with a simple black titanium ring. You nodded in approval as he led you to the register.
Your next stop was at Express. You were dying to pick out some new work clothes for him to try on. You assured him (and yourself) that he needed these new pants and this was totally not an excuse for you to check him out.
“Okay, I’ve got three pairs of pants that I think would look absolutely amazing on you and I want you to go try ‘em on.” you said, handing Minseok three hangers. Each hanger had a pair of slacks in different colors hanging from them. He took them from you, shooting you a smirk before walking inside the fitting room stall.
Your eyes widened as Minseok opened the door of the stall. The pants fit absolutely perfectly. The way the fabric hugged his perfect thighs, the color complimenting his white undershirt (which you imagined to be one of his famous white button-downs), it left you practically swooning.
“What do you think?”
You let out a hum in approval before motioning for him to turn around. “Lemme see the goods, hun.” He rolled his eyes before turning around. Your eyes landed on his butt, making you swoon for real. You covered your mouth to hide your obvious enjoyment of the sight before you. And it didn’t help when he gave his butt a mini shake. Still, you couldn’t help but squeal softly.
“You sure today’s not your birthday?” Minseok teased. You tutted as you stood from your spot and walked up to him, giving his butt a light pinch before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“With you, every day’s my birthday.” you answered, giving him a peck on the lips.
“Ugh, I think you ate too much of that egg and cheese for breakfast today.”
“You know you love me.”
“That I do, darling.” Minseok mused before closing the distance between you two. You tangled your hands in his silky black hair as you savored the heavenly taste of his lips. You felt his hands grab your ass as you deepened the kiss, tugging at his hair in response.
As you kissed, you heard your phone chime the same chime that indicated a text from the boys. You decided to ignore it and continue making out with your husband until the phone went off four more times. You scoffed as you broke the kiss, fishing inside of your purse to grab it.
“Is everything okay, hun?” Minseok asked.
“Yeah, fine. Just crap from, uh, ‘work,’” you lied, unlocking the phone. “Go try on the other pants.” Minseok nodded before walking back to the stall. Once the door was closed and locked, you looked down at your messages, worry washing over you once again. What the hell happened now?
operation minseok’s 31st🥳
yee-xing: oh christ
yee-xing: (y/n) (y/n) (y/n)
jun-bug: you gotta help us
yee-xing: please
kyung-soup: i am going to kill park chanyeol like my life depends on it
(y/n): what the everloving shit happened this time
chain-yeol: um i sneezed all over the cake
kyung-soup: the custom one u got on wednesday btw
(y/n): you. sneezed. on. the. CAKE?????
chain-yeol: IM SORRY
chain-yeol: I WAS TRYING TO STOP BAEKHYUN FROM KNOCKING IT OVER AND I SAVED IT BUT THEN I SNEEZED
nini bear: ur so gross
chain-yeol: you too
(y/n): i spent 100 dollars on that cake and you fucking sneeze on it??
(y/n): jfc i’m here busy admiring my husband’s sweet sweet ass and u guys are telling me the cake’s ruined? i will murder u all i swear
jong-waeeee: ew i don’t wanna hear about minseok’s ass
(y/n): shut the fuck up sign ruiner
jong-waeeee: I GOT A NEW ONE THOUGH
jong-waeeee: YOU’RE SO MEAN
bacon: WAIT
bacon: (Y/N) WE’LL PAY FOR ANOTHER ONE
(y/n): baekhyun you sweet summer child
(y/n): I HAD TO PRE-ORDER THAT CAKE 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE YOU WALNUT
bacon: oh
bacon: my bad
11 minutes late: W8 W8 I GOT U
11 minutes late: WE CAN STILL EAT IT
11 minutes late: I’LL SPRAY SOME LYSOL ON IT
jun-bug: SEHUN DON’T YOU DARE
(y/n): sehun honey that just contaminates it even more
(y/n): but thank you for trying
11 minutes late: xoxo i try my best
yee-xing: how ‘bout we just buy more carvel cakes to match the one you got yesterday up to 100 dollars so it maxes out
(y/n): yeah alright fine
(y/n): thanks xing ur a life saver
(y/n): but don’t throw away the ruined cake i wanna show min what he could have missed out on if CHANYEOL DIDN’T FUCKING SNEEZE ON IT
(y/n): WHO SNEEZES ON A CAKE
nini bear: only chanyeol
(y/n): yep, only chanyeol
chain-yeol: y’all are mean.
kyung-soup: what u get for sneezing on the cake
You locked your phone, letting out an exasperated sigh. You swore if anything else happened today, you were going to march all the way back home and kill those men. You massaged your temples with your fingers as a means to alleviate your stress. All you wanted was for everything to be perfect for the party; Minseok deserved nothing less than that.
The door of the stall opened, revealing Minseok wearing nothing but the new pair of navy slacks and a devilishly handsome smirk. His smile faded when he saw you with your hands over your face, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down from your stress. He quickly pulled his undershirt on and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly. With a sigh, you buried your face in his chest, your stress starting to wash away as he began stroking your hair.
You stayed like that for about ten minutes. You eventually calmed down, silently reassuring yourself that everything was going to be fine. You were glad that Minseok did not try to ask you anything since you were afraid you were going to let slip what was waiting for him when you arrive home later in the day.
You let out a small sniffle as you pressed a small kiss on your husband’s exposed shoulder. “I’m so sorry I brought down your mood, Min. The p- ‘w-work,’ is just annoying right now. It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a good day.” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.
“Shh, don’t you worry your little head about it,” Minseok assured, kissing your forehead. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips against yours. “All I want is for my baby to be happy today.” You gave him a weak smile and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling so lucky to have him in your life.
“C’mon, let’s go to the food court. All this stress made me hungry.” you joked, standing from your spot.
“Good idea,” Minseok gave you another kiss before walking back into the changing stall to change back into his regular clothes. “Oh, by the way, buy the pants.” You pumped a fist into the air as you took the hanging articles of clothing into your hands.
You were lucky (and frankly surprised) that nothing else had managed to go wrong today. You were suspicious that you hadn’t gotten any panic-stricken texts from Yixing or Junmyeon, but you couldn’t complain about that. Just to be sure though, you quickly texted Kyungsoo to give you a final update on the state of your house. You sighed in relief when he responded with pictures of your living room, kitchen and backyard decorated just how you envisioned it to be. You sent Kyungsoo a text back thanking him and everyone else profusely for their help.
The clock struck 5, indicating that it was time for you and Minseok to go home. The two of you exited the mall, arms filled with different shopping bags from all the stores you went to during the day. After putting your bags into the backseat of your car, you opened the passenger side of the car and slid in.
“Hm, I was thinking of ordering from that ramen place we tried last week. It was really good, don’t you remember?” Minseok suggested, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
“How ‘bout we wait ‘till we get home to... eat.” you responded, a shit-eating grin almost making its way onto your face.
Minseok hummed softly. “I just wanna spend the rest of the night with you and Tan at home, I hope no one’s planning a surprise party for me,” You tensed slightly at his words, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, hun.” You lied. He shrugged, intertwining his fingers with yours.
When Minseok pulled into your driveway, you shot a quick text to the boys, telling them that you were home. You exited the car quickly, grabbing most of the shopping bags and taking Minseok by the arm, dragging him to the front door.
“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” he chuckled as you struggled to get your keys out of your purse. Once you got them out and put the house key into the lock, you turned to Minseok and pressed your lips onto his.
“Happy birthday, Min. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.” you unlocked the front door and pushed it open. You saw Minseok’s eyes widen at the sight of your home. It was filled to the brim with decorations and all of your closest friends holding gifts, balloons and tons of different ice cream cakes.
“SURPRISE!” everyone exclaimed. Minseok’s jaw dropped as he fully took in everything that was happening. He looked over to you with a sly smile, to which you responded with a small shrug.
“I had to, come on.” You giggled, kissing him on the cheek.
“It’s okay, hun. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” Minseok cupped your face into his hands and pressed his lips onto yours.
“Gross, get a room!” you heard Baekhyun scream. You pulled away from Minseok to flip the younger off.
“Oh! I need to show you the cake I initially got for you but was unfortunately ruined because Chanyeol sneezed on it. Jun, is it in the fridge?” you pulled Minseok in the direction of the kitchen as Junmyeon confirmed the location of the cake.
“He... huh?”
“It was an accident!” Chanyeol whined. You laughed softly to yourself at his childish reaction.
Tonight was gonna be fun.
#xiumin x reader#xiumin x you#minseok x reader#minseok x you#xiumin fluff#minseok fluff#exo fluff#exo#exo scenario#exo scenarios#exo imagine#exo imagines#exo fanfiction#exo au#exo au scenarios#happy birthday xiumin#happy birthday minseok
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his bright smile filled the screen. you could tell he had situated himself comfortably on the sink in younghoon’s bathroom, wiggling slightly to edge himself onto it. his hair was slightly damp, it seemed like he had been in the shower… that or eric had poured beer down him again.
it was contagious, his smile. it lit up an entire room, serotonin radiating from him. it wasn’t unusual for him to drunkenly facetime you when you weren’t there, so you set him up against your coffee machine as always, readying your frying pan for dinner.
“what are you making?” his eyes glistened so much that it was visible through the small pixels that flittered on screen. he was so close, trying to get a good view of exactly what you were doing but it meant you could only see from the nose up. damp strands plastered against his forehead as his bare face snuck closer and closer to the camera.
“kimchi fried rice, I think.” he groaned lowly, the mention of his favourite food setting a grumble off in his stomach.
“but that myyyyy favourite.” the syllable elongated for emphasis, his words slurring slightly as his eyes lazily closed and opened again. “will you save me some?”
he looked like a puppy. he was often compared to a cat but at times you could only see a resemblance to the golden retriever your parents had when you were younger. he tilted his head back slightly so you could see his lips turned up into a pleading smile.
“sure.”
his eyes crinkled as his smile grew, and then his eyes grew wider as you headed toward the fridge to grab your ingredients. he couldn’t see your face, your dark hood hiding it from his view. trying his best, he concentrated on angling his phone, hoping it would change the view on your end too. much to your amusement, the sight of his furrowed eyebrows coming in and out of sight as you began to chop your veggies.
“what are you doing?” he halted abruptly, caught red-handed. he mumbled a low nothing as he placed you back against the cabinet.
a giggle escaped your lips causing his own to perk up in a bright smile. he proceeded to rattle on about the night’s happenings… eric beat his own record of how many bottles of soju he could finish before he collapsed, barely half a glass over his previous record of two. chanhee and sunwoo were cuddly as ever, barely leaving each other’s side as they melted into the sofa the whole night. the rest of the boys were huddled around the inaptly placed union jack table in the middle of younghoon’s kitchen, empty green bottles scattered across it. changmin made a point of asking him if he had heard from you every twenty minutes, whining, and he quotes, you cared more about your studies than you did him, with juyeon as an exception.
the eventful evening kept you giggling as you mushed together your late-night snack, quarter past midnight reading on the oven clock.
“be honest,” he started suddenly, waiting for you to nod. you did. “do you like hanse?”
the question wasn’t unexpected, juyeon’s drunkenly subtle hints eluding to it. his eyes were still glistening in innocent wonder. you shook your head, focusing back on the mouthful you had placed on your spoon. “I don’t know hanse, ju.”
“yeah but…” he huffed, “if you did know him.” he looked around again, as if searching for the right words. “do you want to know him?”
“of course, he seems great.” this was followed by a grumble, his eyebrows still furrowed in disapproval.
“what’s so great about him?” he huffed, again. eyes rolling at him.
“well… I’m not sure.” you kept your eyes focused on him, trying to decipher whether he was being the protective best friend he always was, or whether the voice in the back of your head could be right. jealousy.
“he’s been good to eric, from what I’ve heard. and he’s really into coffee and music, like me.” another scoff.
“I, too, like coffee and music.” the drunken glaze over his melted chocolate pools were slowly disappearing, the shower he took obviously doing its job.
“you don’t like coffee… you flinch at the smell of it.”
“I like coffee flavoured ice cream!” he defended.
his lips morphed into a pout. he didn’t have the guts to tell you that he wished he liked coffee or could relate to the music you enjoyed or could talk endlessly about all the things you loved. much like he loved to hear you talk for hours about your favourite things. as long as he could hear you talking, he didn’t mind what it was about.
he was cute. he was a golden retriever, glistening eyes excited despite his obvious disapproval of the topic.
“well… he actually asked to meet me for coffee... at milky’s” you mumbled into your bowl, subconsciously afraid to see his reaction. but you couldn’t help yourself; you looked up just in time to see him look away, an unreadable expression covering his delicate features.
“oh… cool.”
“I think I might meet him?” your sentence came out more like a question, something deep in your heart hoping that he’ll have an answer that wasn’t just … oh, cool.
“really?” he questioned, eyes focusing back on you. your hair was hidden by your hood, gaze focused on the way your fingers were clasping the edges of your sleeves in thought.
“yeah,” you nodded. “he seems really nice.”
“I just-” he began boldly, without realising he had actually started talking. he cleared his throat, angling the phone so that you could see his entire expression. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
it wasn’t what you were expecting. whether what you were actually expecting was a heartfelt, long-lost love confession was beyond your comprehension right now. but he wasn’t telling you not to go, and the dimly lit flame in the depths of your heart threatened to go out. your mind went back to what changmin once said: “you just aren’t looking in the right place.”
you were about to speak up but once juyeon noticed you deep in thought, he tried again. “it’s just… I know how much your break up effected you and I can’t bear to see that happen to you again. it’s my job, as your best friend, to protect you.”
you felt like screaming. its my job, as your best friend? it didn’t sit right with you, what kind of best friend gives mixed signals like this? any kind of thought about any kind of future you could possibly have was dissolving right in front of your eyes. your fists clenched against the spoon in your hand, glowing a deep red which likely matched your cheeks.
you lowered your voice, afraid that if you showed any kind of emotion you would snap. “I don’t need protecting.”
the hurt that flashed across his features was hard to see, but he needed to know that you weren’t delicate… you weren’t incapable of looking after yourself.
“I know you don’t…” he started, thinking carefully about his next words before he accidentally hurt you. “you are the strongest person I know, but you tend to put yourself in situations that might not end how you want them to. you’re so focused on the perfect soulmate that sometimes you don’t see the reality of your situation.”
whether it was the alcohol talking or his true thoughts, he didn’t miss the shock plastered over the peaks of your face that he could gather from the small, slightly pixilated screen. have I messed up? the memory of the abundance of soju shots he had downed came over him as he cursed under his breath, knowing he had run his mouth. fuck.
“listen, you-”
“no, I get what you’re saying, juyeon. me and my delusions will be off now. enjoy your night and get home safe.”
“wait, y/n...-”
you hung up, chair scraping back against the floor and hitting the wall behind you. your plate landed with a clatter in the kitchen sink, half of your dinner sitting idly in the bowl.
time for bed, you thought to yourself, slightly hugging yourself as your head hit the pillow.
angst?! on v-day?! i’m sorry y’all 😞
to feel free [social media au] - thirteen
pairing: best friend!juyeon x reader x do hanse
genre: fluff, angst
summary: what happens when your idea of soulmates is corrupted and the fear of losing your soul places walls around your heart?
warning: mentions of alcohol, drunk!juyeon, mention of food
updates: every thursday and sunday (or sooner if I feel like it)
taglist: @yeolsbubbles @localjisung @cgv-kayy @elcie-chxn @jaehyvnsvalentine @s33saw @softforqiankun @multistan-net @lovecn @maxiimiliane @bbangsoonie ✨
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#deobiwritersnet#tbznetwork#kpopscape#juyeon#lee juyeon#the boyz#tbz#the boyz juyeon#tbz juyeon#tbz juyeon fluff#the boyz fluff#tbz fluff#tbz angst#the boyz juyeon angst
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Prince Jackson Wang~ Royal!AU
WARNINGS: Narcissistic Parent, Angst, Fluff, Jackson Being A Brat, TW Violence. (I’m probably forgetting something)
A/N: Don’t ask me why this one is so long, I couldn’t stop writing for this one haha, although I feel like it could be better. I hope y’all enjoy it!
Prince Jackson was snobby, conceited, and arrogant.
Prince Jackson is brave, wise, and gentle.
He thought he was the best, and he only cared about himself.
But he humbled himself, and he is more caring towards his people now.
His mother was a very gentle woman, and she was able to keep the King from neglecting the Kingdom.
She wanted to teach Jackson how important it was to be kind and considerate.
Unfortunately, the Queen had died when Jackson was a child, leaving him to be raised by an egotisical man.
His father had spoiled him and imprinted a God-like complex in his mind.
He had made Jackson think that he was above everyone else, even their own people.
Jackson had grown up watching his father push around their servants and thought it was okay.
The King didn’t care for the Kingdom, even though there was a rising in crime.
The King let the Kingdom come to despair when the Queen died, for he did not care.
The King was obsessed with war and being the best, so Jackson was taught how to fence, handle a sword, spar, etc.
Jackson is very strong because of this; he can handle himself very well.
Fortunately, Jackson had never fought in a war, for others had managed to steer clear of his father.
The way Jackson was raised is something he is ashamed of, even if he is no longer the man he once was.
He changed a lot of his ways after getting his portrait painted by you.
Crime, poverty, and pain was something his Kingdom no longer had to suffer.
When you had been requested to paint a portrait for the Prince, you were nervous. You had always wondered what the Prince was like. Was he noble and sensitive? Or was he just like the King?
You had silently hoped it was not the latter, but to your displeasure, it was, you could tell he didn’t care about anyone except himself.
As you sit on a stool with a canvas in front of you, Prince Jackson sat proudly on a throne encrusted with jewels, you would’ve thought he was so dreamy...if he didn't have an annoyed look on his face.
“How much longer is this going to take?” he asks you, the insolent tone in his voice had you irritated. “Well, if you would have quit moving and just shut up, I would’ve been done by now.”
Jackson looked taken back by your words, it was clear no one had ever talked to him like that before. He squinted his eyes towards you as your paintbrush softly glided on the canvas, “Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?” he scoffed, “I am the Prince, and you will treat me with respect.”
You put the paintbrush down and stood up in a huff, “Respect, huh?” you begin while taking your art smock off, “You don’t even care, let alone respect your own people. Do you even understand what we all must go through while you live carefree up in that palace? No, you don’t, you’re just a spoiled brat who only cares about himself. Don’t you dare talk to me about respect, your Highness.”
You felt your blood boil as venom dripped from your words. You threw your smock over the stool and began walking towards the door, Jackson furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to process everything and quickly stood from the throne, “Where are you going?” he asks confused.
“I have been painting you for hours, I am hungry. You can either wait here for me or come back later,” you sighed.
Jackson followed you out the door but turned and started walking back to the palace.
The rest of the day your words replayed through Jackson’s mind, it distracted Jackson and made him mess up a few times while sparring. He felt guilty, no one had ever scolded him like that, he began questioning himself.
Was he truly so self-absorbed that he didn’t see how much their people were in need?
Why would his father tell him to not worry about the Kingdom?
He decided he needed to talk to you, so the next day he readied himself and started walking to your art studio, as he started walking up the few steps that lead to your door, he heard a noise coming from one of the alleys.
Curiosity got the best of him and he went to investigate, when he turned the corner, his eyes grew big. Some man had you cornered and was trying to rob you, “Come on, I know you have money, I saw the Prince leave your workshop yesterday, he must have paid you.”
“Please, I don’t want any trouble! Just let me leave!” you pleaded while slowly trying to move past him, you felt very intimidated by the man and knew that you were going to be beaten, if not killed, if you didn’t get out of there.
The man harshly grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall, “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled and raised his fist.
You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the impact about to come but instead heard a grunt from him, you opened your eyes and see Prince Jackson fighting with the man, Jackson was dodging swings and skillfully landing his own, the man knew it was a losing fight, so he quickly took off.
Jackson wasn’t even panting, but his heart was definitely racing; along with yours. You stood there bewildered about the entire situation, “Are you okay?” he concerningly asks you.
You simply nod, “Thank you,” you softly let out.
“Can we talk?”
You agree and lead him into the Tavern you often go to, you ask the Tavern Keeper, Martha to bring out two orders of your usual and then sit at a table in the corner. Jackson looked tense; it was his first time in a place like this.
“What did you want to talk about?” you asked curiously, you could see something in his eyes but couldn’t make it out.
“I don’t know anything about what goes on in the Kingdom, my father had told me to not mind anything that happens to our people. Please, tell me what is going on, I need to know.”
You were taken back, he sounded sincere. He was no longer sitting proudly like he was the day before; and you could see what was in his eyes now, it was remorse.
“Well...as you saw before, crime is the biggest one, a lot of people have lost their home or their shop because they were robbed, trade caravans have stopped visiting here because they’re afraid, so we can’t even trade,” Jackson intensely listened as you explained, mentally taking notes of it. “Poverty is the second one, but I’m sure you can guess why. Everyone is in pain; people have died because they were too poor to afford food or medicine when they were sick,” you tell him with a heavy heart.
Jackson, who was clearly upset, grabbed your hand from across the table and held it in his own, his eyes locking with yours, “I promise you, I will do everything I can to make things right.”
Before you could respond, a servant had walked up with two plates, you pull your hand back and thank her as she places the plates down, then she quickly excuses herself to let you eat.
Jackson curiously looks at the food, he was so used to extravagant meals and wasn’t sure if he would like the food in front of him, “Just try one bite, if you don’t like it, I will gladly eat it,” you chuckle at the last bit.
He grabs his fork and takes a bite, he was delightfully surprised at how amazing the food was, it was enough for him to start devouring the meal, leaving his taste buds satisfied, “That was incredible, I’ve never had something so flavorful before!”
Martha walked over to you both and you smiled, “Hi Martha! How are things?” you greet her as you pull out a few coins for the meal. Her smile was sorrowful as she stopped you, “It’s on the house, consider it a ‘farewell’ gift,” she informs you, you could hear the pain in her voice, as well as Jackson.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to lose this place tomorrow because I can’t pay it off.”
You furrowed your brows, “But you told me the other day you were about to fully pay off this place?” you reminded her, not wanting to hear what she was about to say.
“I was, until someone broke in last night and stole all of my money. I can’t make it all back in a day, it took me months to save it all up. I have no choice but to go back to my parent’s farm,” she explained with her head hung low. You stood up and hugged your friend tightly, “I am going to miss you so much. I’ll visit you tomorrow before you leave.”
Suddenly, something hit the table with a small thud, you both look and see that Jackson had pulled out his coin pouch, “Will this be enough, or do you need more?” Jackson asked with a serious tone.
Martha realized who he was and stood there in shock, trying to find words before giving up and nodding. “Okay, wonderful! I would’ve hated to see my new favorite place to eat go so quickly,” he tells her with a smile.
Jackson took the throne as the rightful King very quickly and kept his word, crime vanished almost overnight, people had their homes and shops back, and trading caravans started visiting the Kingdom again.
Everything was as it should be.
Jackson had invited you to the castle to help him make decisions regarding the Kingdom, it wasn’t long until you both fell in love with each other. He loves you and always aims to be a better person because of you.
The portrait of Prince King Jackson hung in the great hall; showing a man who truly is the best.
#jackson wang imagine#jackson wang imagines#jackson wang headcanon#jackson wang headcanons#jackson wang scenarios#jackson wang scenario#got7 scenarios#got7 imagines#got7 scenario#got7 imagine#got7 headcanon#got7 headcanons#got7 au#got7 royal!au#got7 prince!au
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kfc (kisses for christmas) ; c.sc
✪ summary: You’re unexpectedly single on Christmas Day, but you don’t want to spend it alone. At least you can count on the cute delivery boy to bring you fried chicken.
✪ pairing: chicken delivery boy!seungcheol x reader
✪ genre: fluffy fluff
✪ word count: 2.1k words
✪ tags: @yutacrush thank you for beta reading for me i would like to marry you
✪ a/n: helllo binu here!! i am very excited to be posting my first fic on yakultberry c: this fic is actually part of @merakiiverse‘s job au collaboration (will link after posting). i really have a lot of respect for everyone who writes straight up fluff, because ooooof did i struggle way more than i expected while writing this lmao hopefully it turned out okay and y’all can enjoy! <33
[chicky delivery boy]: your order is 5 minutes away!
At the arrival of the text, you scrambled out of your position on the couch and quickly began to clear away the dirty dishes on your coffee table and the used tissues that had accumulated over the course of the day. You weren’t quite sure what ghost of Christmas past possessed you to continue your annual tradition of binging cheesy holiday movies all day, but you supposed it was because you were at a loss for what to do at all. You had spent the last two Christmases with that asshole. It wasn’t like you could call up your friends to hang out with you today; no, they were lucky enough to have nice boyfriends who didn’t break up with them two months before the holidays. And you definitely weren’t going to go out on the town by yourself, only to be forced to watch all the happy couples cuddle close to each other in the cold.
So here you were, alone in your apartment, waiting on your fried chicken to be delivered.
It seemed to be the one constant in your life amongst the aftermath of your chaotic break up. Whenever you made an order, it would arrive at your doorstep within thirty minutes, always warm and always comforting. Although you wouldn’t quite say that Joy’s Chicken was the best chicken restaurant in the area (the family-owned joint two blocks over was definitely much tastier), it still managed to become your go-to after the delivery person from the family restaurant got lost on their way to your apartment for the third time. That, and once your order had arrived on your doorstep, brought to you by a dimpled, dark-haired delivery boy, you quickly decided that the restaurant had its own charms.
“Coming!” you called out to the gentle knock at the front door, skipping across your living room to reach it. After checking your reflection in the mirror hanging in the hallway, you swung the door open, smiling brightly. “Finally, I’m starving-- what happened to you?”
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the boy said with a chuckle, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped tightly around his face. You reached over to pull down the scarf to reveal that he was smiling back at you, though you did note that his lips were pale and his teeth were chattering. The thick, puffy coat he wore could only do so much when he was covered with a snow from head to toe. You watched as some of it crumbled off of his shoulders when he shuffled to take your food out of an insulator. Today, the box had a cute little bow stuck to the top of it. “Merry Christmas! This is for you.”
You took the bag from his hands, but, as usual, you didn’t close the door right away. “Seungcheol, you look like a marshmallow.”
“Wow, I take it you didn’t get a present for me?” He leaned against your doorframe, a pout now on his lips. “I wish I was a marshmallow. Then I could jump into some hot chocolate and finally feel warm. It’s been snowing non-stop out there since 7PM.”
At this, you felt a small twinge of guilt for being one of his orders tonight, especially knowing that Seungcheol would often make your deliveries by foot since you didn’t live too far from Joy’s. “Does your shift end soon at least?”
“Yeah, we’re closing a little earlier today since the boss has Christmas plans! You’re actually my last delivery for tonight.”
“Oh well, if that’s the case,” you said tentatively, stepping to the side. “Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate before you have to head back into the storm? It’s the least I could do since I did forget to get you a present.”
The boy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his grin remained, albeit a bit amused. Now some would say that inviting some random guy into your apartment just because you didn’t want to be alone on Christmas was probably not the best idea, but Seungcheol was definitely not just some random guy. Every Friday for the past eight or so weeks, Seungcheol had arrived at your doorstep with a box of chicken with your name on it. He probably came by more frequently than your regular friends now that you really thought about it. After the first couple of times he delivered, he decided to introduce himself to you since he thought it was unfair that he already knew your name and you only saw him as the guy that brings your chicken (which wasn’t entirely true-- you saw him as the cute guy that brings you your chicken).
“Unless you have your own Christmas plans to get to, of course,” you quickly added. Admittedly, your conversations with Seungcheol only ever extended to silly banter, so there was no telling what his life was like beyond the threshold of your doorstep. For all you knew, he could very well have a get together planned with his friends or a dinner with his family. Or a date with a girlfriend.
“I mean, I was planning on watching Die Hard by myself again, but I think I can be a little late for that,” Seungcheol mused playfully. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading across your lips as you moved back to allow him to step into your apartment for the first time. He took off his shoes and shrugged off his thick coat before following you to your small kitchen.
“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you too long,” you said, and reached over him to grab two mugs from a cabinet.
“I mean, you can keep me for as long as you like,” he shrugged, but you were quick to catch the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You suddenly realized that this was the closest you’ve ever stood together and turned away to begin preparing the hot chocolate in the hopes of hiding how flustered you felt.
“Anyway uh--” you cleared your throat, but it was proving difficult to think up a conversation starter when you could feel Seungcheol so close. You chanced a glance over at him, noting how he was still rubbing his hands together and shuffling in his spot to warm himself up. “Oh no, you must be freezing.”
He shook his head, but you could see how the snow that had clung to his clothes was slowly melting and soaking into the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m fine. Though I’m definitely not as warm as you.” You followed his gaze down to the festive pajama set you had been wearing all day, which was patterned with reindeers and sleighs, and you reached over to shove at his chest lightly.
“I was doing laundry and this is all I had!” Your voice can barely be heard over the boy’s gleeful snickering. It was now your turn to pout at him. “You know what, it’s actually really bad to stand around in cold, wet clothes. You might get sick. And lucky for you, since I am such a caring person, I have precisely the outfit that will save you from such a fate.”
“Oh no, that’s fine--”
Before he could finish, you had already whisked away to your room and returned with a folded set of pajamas that clearly matched your own. You gave him a cute little smile as you handed it to him. “No, I insist! I’ll even put your wet clothes in the dryer so that you can properly get nice and warm.” At this point, Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you. “What?”
“You just happened to have couple pajamas at the ready?” Seungcheol hummed. “Seems like you were planning this for a while now, sweetheart.”
“What, no! I got them on sale last year!”
“Mm, a likely story,” he said, ducking away just in time to avoid your poke attack. Despite his teasing, he still asked you where the bathroom is, and you nearly let out a long sigh when he’s out of sight. Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest, but you weren’t quite sure why. Were you nervous? Scared? If you were honest, everything about Seungcheol put you at ease; plus, nothing about your interactions with him changed other than proximity. So why did you feel so sheepish when he teased and joked around like he always did?
While he was changing, you finished preparing the hot chocolate, topping them off with some whipped cream, and brought your mugs and your box of chicken into the living room. A small window in your apartment showcased the sky outside, which was dark and dotted with heavy sheets of snow, contrasting with your living room’s warm glow from the light of your small Christmas tree. It made you feel perfectly cozy, especially with the hot cup of cocoa in your palms.
“Ta-dah! How do I look?” Seungcheol announced, walking out to you. The sight of him grinning at you goofily and clad proudly in the matching pajamas only made the fuzzy more prominent until it made your smile just as wide as his. There it was again-- that perplexing heart beat of yours. It accelerated as he came to take a seat beside you on the couch.
“A lot warmer!” You handed him his hot chocolate. “Here is the promised beverage. Merry Christmas, Seungcheol.”
“I was hoping to hear something more along the lines of ‘blindingly handsome’,” he sighed out dramatically, taking a sip of his drink. Immediately, his eyes lit up. “But I’ll let it slide this time, because this is delicious.”
A small giggle slipped past your lips as you watched him drink his hot chocolate with gusto, and when he reemerged from behind his mug, you couldn’t hold back a loud snort seeing how his top lip was decorated with a proper mustache of white cream. You nearly fell over from laughing so hard at his confused expression
“What? What is it?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Between your bursts of laughter, you managed to point at his lips. He reached up and playfully clenched his jaw when he felt the cream covering his mouth. “Oh, you it’s that funny, huh?” He swiped up some of the remaining whipped cream in his mug onto his finger and reached over to place it on your nose.
“Hey!” You scrunch your nose. For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other before bursting into another fit of giggles. “You’re Santa Claus and I’m Rudolph.”
Still chuckling, Seungcheol grabbed a tissue from your coffee table and wiped at his lips, then cleaned off the dollop he had placed on your nose. Your laughter subsided at how such a simple action also felt so intimate. You did your best to avoid his twinkling gaze if only to calm yourself.
“You know, when I took on the responsibility of warming you up, I wasn’t expecting you to be such a handful,” you admitted jokingly, though some parts of you meant it. Namely your easily excitable heart.
“Oh yeah? Well, I wasn’t expecting you to take so long.”
You turned to face him once again. “I gave you fresh pajamas and some hot chocolate! You’re still not warmed up?”
“They’re not taking effect fast enough!” he insisted with another of his infamous pouts.
“Then do you know a faster way?” you asked and almost instantly, Seungcheol expression changes, but this time it’s not a mischievous smile or a childish pout. It’s something softer, gentler.
“Mm, I might know a quick way to warm up. Do you want me to show you?” he asked. You blinked, gaze meeting with Seungcheol’s eyes as he patiently waited for your reply. Despite the somersaults you felt in your chest, you were now more sure than ever that you didn’t feel nervous. Upon the realization what the feeling really was, your lips easily melted into a soft smile, and you gave him a nod. Without another moment’s hesitation, he leaned over to you and delivered a sweet, chaste kiss on your cheek.
The effect was instantaneous: Seungcheol’s ears were the first to go red as his entire face heated up. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he groaned out, covering his blushing face. “That was so cheesy!”
“I thought it was cute!” you assured him, but your laughter does nothing to ease his cringing.
“Don’t look at me for five minutes!” he whined.
“Seungcheol really, it’s okay!”
“Just eat your chicken or something!”
#seventeen scenarios#s.coups scenarios#seungcheol scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen#s.coups#choi seungcheol#seungcheol#tags pls work#let my blog get some visibility
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The Ranch {4}
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty
Cassian rode until the sun had gone down, and after he had everything put away and Daisy was in her stall to rest for the night, he was crashing into his cabin, still filled with frustration and anger. Beau jumped off the recliner and met Cassian by the door, tail wagging.
After kicking off his muddy boots, Cassian grabbed the bottle of bourbon out of his fridge and slumped down into his recliner before putting the cool bottle to his lips.
As he was out riding Daisy, he felt guilty, at first, for the things he had said to Nesta in the kitchen. He hadn’t been fair, and he knew it. He was pissed, and felt stupid for the entire ordeal, and as usual, he had let out those feelings by way of smartass comments in hopes to get a rise out of her.
It had worked, of course, but a little too well. She had threatened to fire him. He, who had dedicated almost a decade to this ranch, who had put his heart and soul into everything he had done over the last eight years. He loved working the ranch, and she wanted to fire him? Why? Because what they had done was inappropriate.
It was utter bullshit.
They were both there that night, and she had wanted it every bit as much as he had. He remembered the fire, the longing, in her eyes, the soft whimpers escaping her lips as his tongue explored her body. He hadn’t imagined it. She wanted him, all of him, but then she left.
Inappropriate.
The word rang through him, repeated in his mind, like a fucking joke.
He grabbed his phone and called Azriel. It rang three times before his brother answered with a breathless, “Hello?”
Cassian gave a quick glance to the clock on the microwave, seeing it was 9:58 on a Saturday night. The one night that both Elain and Azriel are off work and together. And have given their families strict instructions not to call unless it was an emergency.
“Shit, fuck, it’s Saturday, y’all are- well, you know I know what you were doing, but I don’t want to say it because then I’ll think about it and-.”
“Cassian,” Azriel laughed, cutting him off. “I’m at the gym.” He laughed again as he heard Cass breath a sigh of relief, but explained before he could ask. “They needed El to work a double in the NICU today so she gets tomorrow off. So maybe don’t call tomorrow, yeah?”
He cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck. “Right, sorry about that. This would have been real awkward.”
Az snorted on the other end of the phone and the telltale echo Cass could hear in the background told him he’d made his way into the locker room. “Less awkward than that time you took a buckle bunny back to the room in Houston, didn’t tell me or Rhys, and we walked in right when you were about to-.”
“Okay, yes, less awkward than that,” Cass mumbled, all by himself, but still feeling the tips of his ears burn.
He could hear Azriel’s deep laughter on the other end of the phone and when he returned the phone to his ear, he asked, “So what’s got you so out of sorts that you called me on a Saturday night?”
Cassian debated on giving him a little bit of back story, but he’d seen how they were last night. Maybe Az could try and give him a little insight, since he had successfully figured out one of the Archeron sisters.
“I almost fucked Nesta last night.” There was absolute silence on the other end. Cassian pulled the phone from his ear to make sure he hadn't dropped the call somehow. “Az?”
“Rhys and I will be over in twenty.”
The line went dead and Cassian sighed, looking over at Beau. The pup ran over and licked Cassian’s outstretched hand as he said in a singsong voice, “Dad’s in trouble…”
Beau barked as if to say, Trust me, I know. And the pup’s following grin said, And I can’t wait to watch you get your ass handed to you.
Cassian sighed as he fell back in his recliner and waited - waited for his brothers to come give him hell.
Maybe he deserved hell.
He didn’t know.
He took another gulp from the bottle.
Beau jumped up on Cassian’s lap and Cassian let out a long string of curses as he almost spilled his bourbon. Beau was a massive puppy and didn’t understand that he wasn’t a lap dog anymore. Cass didn’t have the heart to tell him either.
Beau was still sprawled across Cassian’s lap, getting his belly rubbed, twenty minutes later, when the cabin door was thrown open.
Azriel was still dressed in his sweaty gym clothes. Cassian assumed he had stopped by to pick up Rhys on the way, who was wearing old sweatpants and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
Beau hopped off Cassian, at last, to greet his uncles as Rhysand said, “Feyre says fuck you.”
Cassian blinked. “Wh- you told her?”
Rhysand shrugged, shutting the front door. “I had to let her know where I was going.”
Cassian groaned. “Couldn’t have said you were just coming over for a drink?”
Azriel chuckled as Rhysand said, “I could’ve, but then I couldn’t watch her kick your ass the next time she sees you.”
Cass leaned back in the recliner, covering his face with his hands. The words were muffled as he said, “She would have figured out a reason to anyways, she always does.”
He heard the couch next to him groan as one of his brothers sat down, but Rhys’ voice came from the kitchen when she replied. “Yeah, but now I don’t have to get my ass kicked when she finds out that I knew, and didn’t tell her.”
Cass moved his hands away to see Azriel shaking his head as he threw his sweaty tennis shoes across the room. Beau immediately chased them to the corner, but a whistle from Cassian had him begrudgingly trotting back to his place on the floor in front of the recliner. He flopped down with a huff.
Azriel, deciding to no longer beat around the bush, asked, “Dude, what the hell? You said you two couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to scream at each other when you called me the day before yesterday.”
Cassian leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know, I just- she just gets under my skin.”
“She’s Nesta Archeron,” Rhysand announced, finally appearing from the small kitchen. There was a bottle of cheap whiskey in one hand and three glasses in the other. “The Cauldron made her with the sole purpose of getting under people’s skin.”
“Rhys,” Azriel warned.
He placed the contents on the small table between the couch and recliner and held up his hands in surrender. “Now, Cassian, because you’ve chosen to make yet another stupid decision, and because the three of us chose to make that stupid pact at seventeen-years-old, we’re here to be miserable with you.” He cracked the seal and put the plastic bottle of liquor to his lips, the burn of the alcohol damn near painful. He handed the bottle to Cass and he blew out a harsh breath and shook his head.
He happily took it and chugged much more than most humans typically would. When he put the bottle down and opened his eyes, Azriel and Rhysand were watching him.
Azriel let out a low whistle. “You’re in worse shape than I thought.”
“I talked to her about it this afternoon, too,” Cassian said, head already feeling light. “It didn’t go well.”
“Did you….expect it to?” Rhysand asked, brows raised as they passed around the bottle.
Cassian didn’t reply. He didn’t have a good answer. Yes, he had, but he wasn’t sure why.
“Well,” Azriel went on, clearing his throat. “We’re here to take your mind off of it.”
“Drink,” Rhysand said, handing the bottle to Cassian, once more. He did, but not quite as deeply as the first. “And start at the beginning.”
Cassian handed the bottle back to him. “You both may want to start drinking, too,” he said, closing his eyes and reclining back in the chair.
Rhys did as he was told, but Azriel asked, “And why’s that?”
“Because it all started with me walking into the kitchen in the main house to find her perky, little ass up in the air, in the tightest pair of jeans shorts I've ever seen, and ended with her legs wrapped around my waist and her tits in my mouth, against that wall.” Cassian gestured towards the doorway, eyes still closed.
He heard two more heavy swallows.
“I assume something happened between those two moments,” Azriel muttered.
Cassian kept his eyes closed as he said, “I blame the alcohol.”
“Bullshit,” Rhysand said, the couch creaking as he shifted his weight. “Your alcohol tolerance is impressive, to say the least.”
“We did run into each other, literally, after our shower yesterday afternoon,” Cassian muttered. “That didn’t help.”
A pause, then Azriel said, “Our? As in...together?”
Cassian opened his eyes just to roll them. “No. She was getting ready in the main house, too, I didn’t know.”
Rhysand gave him a knowing look.
“I didn’t know,” Cassian repeated, words clipped.
“Alright, alright,” Rhysand mumbled, laughing quietly as he took the bottle from Azriel. “Not to mention that you drove her to and from the bar last night.”
“We came back here, I invited her in,” he went on, taking the bottle from Rhysand and fiddling with the label. “We drank a little, got to know each other a little… She wanted it.”
“You think every woman wants to fuck you,” Rhysand said, as Cassian took a sip of whiskey.
He leaned forward, setting the bottle on the side table and rested his knees on his hands. “Yeah, well, when you’re playing Twenty Questions, and someone says ‘If given the chance, would you fuck me’, what the hell would you think?”
They were both quiet.
“She...asked you that?” Azriel asked, reaching across Rhys for the bottle.
“Swear on my mother’s grave.” Cassian stood up and began pacing in front of the television. “Gods, I tried to fucking not, too. I took the drink instead of answering the question and then I left her out here.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it free from the tie it’d been in all day. “I went back into my room and I was going to let her leave and give her some bullshit story about getting sick or something this morning whenever I saw her.” He paused and looked over at that empty recliner, looked at where she’d been sitting just a night ago. “But then I thought, what if I don’t get this chance again? This woman, she’s all that I’ve thought about for the last three days and I just…”
Cassian trailed off and Azriel, without looking away from his brother, nudged Rhys’ arm. “I think we might need that second bottle you left out in the truck.”
“Yeah,” Rhysand said, blinking, before hauling ass out of the cabin. He came back a minute later, with an unopened bottle, as Cassian continued to pace in his little living room.
“Okay,” Rhysand said, settling back into the couch and twisting open the bottle. “Continue.”
Cassian sighed, running a hand, frustratingly, through his hair. “It got a little out of control, for a while...things were getting heated….really fucking heated. Then, she heard my phone vibrate, thanks to you assholes, and I wasn’t going to get it, because, obviously, my phone was the last thing on my mind, but then she kept telling me to answer the fucking phone, so I did.” The words rushed out of him, and as he took another step, he swayed, then cursed. “I looked at the texts, quickly, then when I looked over my shoulder, the front door was open and she was gone.”
“Shit,” Azriel muttered, Rhysand nodded. “She didn’t say anything?”
Cass scooped the near empty bottle from the table and slumped back into the chair. Beau sat up and rested his head on Cassian’s knee. He scratched behind his ear and shook his head, putting his lips to the bottle. He drained the rest of it.
“Should I offer you this before I ask how this morning went?” Rhys asked, extending his hand.
Cassian again shook his head, but stood up and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a few bottled waters. Didn’t matter if he got shitfaced drunk tonight, he’d still have to be up with the sun to start his day. He sat back down and handed the other two bottles to his brothers.
“It wasn’t this morning, it was about, oh,” he glanced at the clock again. “Three hours ago, give or take.” He took a swig from the cool bottle and set it down. “I gave her space, all day, so she could come up with whatever excuse she wanted, and then when I finally run into her, she’s in this extravagant fucking kitchen, cooking the most delicious looking damn steak I’ve ever seen, and the sun was lighting up her eyes and…” Cass reached for the whiskey again. “She said, it was inappropriate.”
“So she apologized?” Azriel asked, clearly confused.
“Fuck, no, us, what we did, that was inappropriate.” Cassian sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “She says since she’s ‘technically my boss’, we can’t.”
A look of understanding passed between them both.
“What?” Cass asked, noticing the two of them.
“Absolutely not,” was all Azriel said, when Rhys turned to look at him.
Rhys said, “If he’s getting into this thing, he needs to-.”
“Okay, but he’s clearly not getting into it, since Nesta shut him down. I don’t know about you, but I like my balls being-.”
“Oh, shut up, you aren’t even engaged yet, you think you’ll have it bad?”
“Hey!” Cassian said, loudly. They both looked at him. “Someone wanna tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”
Rhysand looked at Azriel. “You brought it up.”
“Fuck you,” he mumbled under his breath, but sighed and looked at Cass. “You didn’t hear this from us and if Elain or Feyre ask, you sure as shit didn’t hear this from us.” Cassian, eyebrows raised, nodded. Azriel looked at Rhys one more time and when he gestured for him to go on, Az sighed. “Nesta nearly got kicked out of the most prestigious culinary institute in France for having an affair with her instructor.”
Cassian stilled.
No one said a word as Cassian stared at Azriel. Even Beau could sense the tension, as he whined quietly, breaking the silence.
“Sorry, what?” Cassian asked, at last.
“Happened a few years ago, at the end of her final semester,” Azriel continued, slowly, cautiously. “She was of age, of course, and he was in his late-twenties. She was in love with him, apparently, but when the board found out...well, it didn’t go well. She had to beg and plead to be allowed to finish school and receive her diploma, and she obviously broke it off with the guy, too. And, considering you are technically under her employment…”
Cassian opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. It suddenly all made sense - at least, it made more sense than it had hours before.
And he had been a complete dick to her, then.
“Fuck,” Rhysand breathed, “you look like you’re about to puke.”
Azriel slowly rose to his feet and hurried into the kitchen. He came back to the living room with the garbage can, and tentatively set it down in front of Cassian.
Who still wasn’t saying a word.
“Dude, do you think you should-.”
The sound of retching is all that could be heard in the small cabin.
“Oh shit!” Rhys cried, jumping back into the seat Azriel had just vacated as Cassian emptied the contents of his stomach into the trash can.
He coughed, bracing his hands on the edges of the can. “I’m a piece of shit.”
Rhys mumbled, “Well…”
“Rhys, shut the fuck up.” Azriel said, and handed Cass his water bottle. “Cass, you’re not a piece of shit.”
He groaned, and fell down to the floor as he opened the water bottle and took slow sips.
He should go apologize to Nesta.
But he also knew he had no right to do so. Even if he tried, she probably wouldn’t give him the time of day.
And he didn’t blame her.
His head was pounding, his stomaching rolling. He closed his eyes and put his face into his hands.
“I need to go to bed,” he muttered, talking into his hands.
Azriel whistled for Beau, who was instantly by his side. He then walked to the front door and let the pup out for his last potty break of the night.
“Go get cleaned up. I’ll let Beau in and lock the door behind us.” Azriel leaned beside the wall next to the door and smiled.
Cassian nodded and stood, stumbling back toward the bathroom. He flipped Rhys off as he went.
The second he flipped on the bathroom light he cringed. His eyes were glazed, his eyelids heavy. After grabbing a rag and drenching it in water, he wiped off his face then brushed his teeth. As soon as he walked out into the hall and into his bedroom, he was falling into his bed. He could hear Beau running through the living room, his tail was wagging as he jumped up next to Cassian on his mattress.
Azriel was scolding Rhysand as they walked out. The last thing Cassian heard him say before they shut the front door was, Way to be a prick, dickwad.
Once Cassian was left alone in the silence, though, his guilt only worsened.
He laid there, listening to his ceiling fan rotate and running his hand down Beau’s belly, and he groaned.
He should text her, tell her that he was sorry for being a dick and-.
He didn’t even have her fucking number.
For a split second, he considered going to her house, apologizing, kissing her, he hadn’t decided yet. But then he realized what a stupid idea that was, and likely to get him fired.
So he laid there, room spinning around him as fast as the fan above him, and waited for the sunrise.
#the ranch nessian#shara collab#throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab#tacmc toab tag team#throne of ashes and beauty#tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty#nessian#theranchnessian#nesta archeron#cassian
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Flawless (7)
Con Artist AU. masterlist.
Content Warning: swearing, PTSD, violence, sex
Before we get started here, you all need to know that Flawless will be going on a mini-hiatus. This chapter is the end of my original outline, and I need to spend some time planning out the next plot arc before I write the next chapter.
(Also, shoutout to the lovely humans who translated the line in French. Y’all are the real MVPs.)
Anyway, this is it. The chapter you’ve all been waiting for. The heist. It feels so surreal to finally write it. As always, thank you for coming on this wild ride with me. ❤
*****
In the shadow of its brightly illuminated landmarks, Paris hummed to the tune of debauchery.
Paparazzi gathered around the Louvre’s glass pyramid, waiting to capture a clear picture of a celebrity guest entering the afterparty. Riley shielded her face with her clutch as she walked in, careful to remain unidentifiable in the barrage of photos. The gold buttons on her emerald jacket-dress caught the warm light emanating from the pyramid and the bright camera flashes. She was well dressed, but not enough to stand out. Tonight, Riley needed to blend in.
She ran a hand through her hair, making sure the loose curls covered her earpiece. For the sake of stealth, the team’s comms were skin color, but they were Nikki and Cage’s skin color, not Riley’s.
Riley was half-tempted to throw her comms into one of the fountains out of spite.
She was the last of the Five Eyes to arrive. They staggered their arrivals to avoid being associated with one another, as a precaution. Pulse thrumming in anticipation, Riley bounced on her toes slightly as she waited in line to check in. The Louvre security team meticulously checked each guest’s ID against the guest list; there would be no party crashers tonight.
It had been all too easy for Riley to add the Five Eyes’ cover identities to the guest list a week ago. Now, she handed the stone-faced security guard a drivers’ license bearing her face and the name “Danika Jackson.” Returning her ID with a nod, the security guard stepped aside, allowing Riley to enter the party.
Everyone is responsible for their own entrance and exit. That was her new rule. She got everyone’s names added to the guest list, but her assistance ended there. If someone ran into trouble, it was on them to bail themselves out.
Riley had learned that rule from her mentor when she first dipped her toes into the world of two-faced schemes and nimble-fingered cons, but she never truly understood it—or saw the need to enforce it—until she felt the bite of handcuffs digging into her wrists.
It was a mistake she’d never make again.
Riley strolled through the hallway bearing massive Italian paintings, slowly making her way to the room containing the most overrated painting of all time—and the rendezvous point.
The Mona Lisa room was empty aside from a blonde woman in a beaded, blood-red cocktail dress standing much too close to the glass-encased painting. Riley stood to the woman’s right and studied the painting as well. It was underwhelming.
“You’d think the most beautiful woman in art would be wearing a prettier dress,” Nikki remarked.
Riley snorted, crossing her arms. “Says the woman who just bought a four-thousand-dollar cheetah print pantsuit.”
Nikki feigned offence. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t pull it off. Anyway, quiz time. What year did da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa?”
“1503,” Riley answered easily. “And the woman’s name is Lisa del Giocondo.” Nikki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s that look for?”
“I didn’t think you actually listen when I talk about art.”
Riley offered her friend a small smile. “I’m always listening to you.” The sound of heels clicking down the hall made them pause. When the coast was clear, Riley murmured, “Is everyone in position?”
“Yeah. Desi and Sam should be inside already, and Jill checked in a few guests in front of me.”
“How did that go?”
“Easy peasy.” Nikki glanced at Riley and softened her tone. “Are we sure Jill is ready for this?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we? Don’t forget, it was your idea to recruit her.”
Nikki turned back to the Mona Lisa. “You know, you really do suck at pep talks.”
“Oh shut up.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you want control room duty?”
Nikki spared her a sideways glance. “I’ll do it. You did it last time.” Her second sentence hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the job gone horribly wrong. And a reminder of all the things they still hadn’t talked about.
Riley brushed it aside. They could talk after they were each forty million dollars richer.
Pulling a flash drive hidden inside an old lipstick tube out of her clutch, Riley instructed, “Plug this in, and it’ll do half the work for you.”
“Thanks.” Nikki put the tube in her own purse. “See you on the other side.”
“Don’t get caught.”
“Don’t get caught,” Nikki parroted, and Riley strode down the hall toward the party.
She followed the pulsing music and the stream of guests to a room in the far corner of the museum, passing the employee door Nikki would sneak into along the way. Crossing the threshold, she couldn’t conceal her gasp. Riley had seen plenty of opulent rooms over the years, but the Galerie d’Apollon was something else entirely. Gold moulding framed the dozens of paintings covering the walls and the arched ceiling. Display cases containing the French Crown Jewels formed a line down the middle of the rectangular room. Despite the party’s couture dress code, the bedazzled guests looked entirely underdressed compared to the grandeur of the gallery.
She only let herself be awestruck for a few seconds before getting to work, marking the exits and security cameras. Riley didn’t like how deep the gallery was in the museum—and how far she would have to walk to make a clean escape with the jewels.
She would be the one walking out with them. No one else. Riley had made that crystal clear during the team planning meeting a few days ago.
Draped in black fabric, the case containing the designer jewelry sat in the middle of the gallery. A security guard stood by it, no doubt to ward off nosey guests wanting a sneak peek.
A wave of nausea passed through her, reminding Riley that the closest thing to a substantial meal she’d eaten all day was the two pastries she ate a few hours ago. She slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, heading for the snack table. Jill was already there, gorging herself on bread and cheese. Eyes wide, the blonde froze as Riley sidled next to her, evidently thinking she was in trouble.
But Riley simply reached for a piece of bread and asked, “Which cheese is the best?”
Exhaling audibly, Jill pointed a manicured, light blue nail. “That one.” Riley tried it. Jill was right; it was delicious.
“You ready, Blondie?” Riley asked, lowering her voice. “There’s no job unless you get this right.”
Jill rolled her shoulders back, snarking, “No pressure or anything.” There was a bite to her words, one Riley noticed only came out when someone, namely her, pushed the blonde a little too far.
“Sorry,” Riley said, and she meant it. “You can do this. Don’t second-guess yourself. Commit.”
Jill merely nodded, swallowing another piece of cheese.
Riley wandered off, not wanting to stay with Jill too long. With her back to a wall, she scanned the room in search of Desi and Cage. When she didn’t see them on her first sweep, Riley furrowed her brow. Where the hell were they?
A bright laugh carried across the room—Cage. There you are, Riley thought. She spied her teammate enjoying the spotlight in the center of a group of models all cooing over Cage’s pale pink dress. It suited Cage, with its billowy sleeves and flowy skirt that hit just below her knees. Cage giggled again, putting her hand on a woman’s shoulder a little too boldly for the gesture to be casual.
Predictably, Desi wasn’t far away, staring daggers at her shameless flirt of a girlfriend.
Riley unmuted her comms. “Easy there, Des. It’s just an act.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she snapped. Even from a distance, Riley could see Desi’s tight grip on her champagne flute.
Riley cooed, “So jealous.”
The woman wrapped a proprietary arm around Cage, clearly welcome to the blonde’s advances, and Cage beamed at her.
It was enough to push Desi over the edge. “Don’t forget whose bed you’re sleeping in tonight, Samantha,” she snarled. “And I don’t remember agreeing to share.”
Cage excused herself from the group. “My love, did it ever occur to you that I’m making you jealous on purpose? Because we both know—”
Nikki cut her off, rescuing the team from whatever filthy thing was about to come out of Cage’s mouth. “Don’t be gross, you two.” Riley stifled a laugh. She and Nikki had been subjected to many things they didn’t want to hear over the years. This would hardly faze her now.
Focus. They needed to focus.
Riley finally spotted the sharp-eyed assistant she noticed at the runway show. Always two steps behind the designer, the young woman obediently trailed him as he floated from group to group. The assistant finished her drink, setting it on the tray of a passing waiter, and strode toward the main hallway in this wing of the museum.
“I think she’s going to the bathroom,” Jill said. “Do I follow her?”
Snagging a drink of her own, Riley answered, “No. Bump into her when she comes back.” She watched Jill make her way toward the far side of the gallery, ready to intercept the assistant and steal her keys.
Everything was going to plan. Jill just had to steal the keys, and then all they had to do was hurry up and wait for the big reveal. Eight o’clock, Riley was told upon arrival. The designer would commence his speech at eight, then reveal his masterpiece to the world.
Riley checked her watch. Thirty more minutes.
She knew she’d been standing in this spot for too long already, but Riley was loath to give up the relative safety of having a wall at her back. The twinge of fear she’d felt earlier at the runway show came raging to the surface, rooting her stiletto-clad feet in place. Leaving the wall meant having people in her blind spot. No one’s going to hurt me, Riley promised herself. This is a party, not a prison.
Her legs felt like lead weights, but Riley forced herself to re-enter the crowd, one agonizing stride at a time. She made it as far as the nearest display case before she had to stop, and her eyes landed on a tiara resting in the center of the display. Countless tiny diamonds formed flowery swoops and swirls, with a handful of emeralds scattered between them, filling what would otherwise be empty spaces. In the center, the diamonds framed a large, round emerald, mimicking the shape of a flower.
It was exactly what Riley would have stolen had the Five Eyes agreed to rob the Louvre itself, rather than this party. Maybe she’d come back for it, one day.
Using the case as a pseudo-wall, Riley took a deep breath and re-scanned the room in search of Jill. Unsurprisingly, Jill was exactly where Riley had last seen her.
She kept an eye on the recruit, knowing Desi and Cage were doing the same. Riley was impressed; Jill had quickly figured out how to linger without being obvious she was waiting for something. Jill mindlessly pushed up her glasses—the only visible sign of her nerves—and the movement drew Riley’s attention.
But not to Jill.
To another blond head, far behind her. One Riley desperately hoped to never see again.
“We have a problem,” Desi said.
“I saw.”
Nikki’s ex-boyfriend stalked into the gallery, a taller, older man at his heels like a shadow—the same men who chased Riley, Nikki, and Jill through the taco shop a few weeks ago.
Fuck.
Ducking her head to avoid being spotted, Riley hissed, “Nik, get your ass to the control room and lock the door behind you. We’ve got company.”
“Already here. Accessing system controls as we speak. Whoever designed the security system in this place should be fired, because this is ridiculously simple. I should’ve left it in French just to keep it interesting.” A pause. "Who's here? Wait. No. Let me guess. Interpol? The mob? That bitchy designer I once robbed point-blank?"
"Your ex."
"Oh."
"You didn't tell him about our dream job, did you?" The words came out a little too accusatory, but Riley didn't care. She needed to know.
"No! Of course I didn't. He— Look, I don't know why he's here, and we can figure that out later. Right now, you need to keep him busy. He's smart, Riles. Maybe even smarter than you. Be careful."
Riley scoffed. "Smarter than me? We'll see about that."
"I'm serious, Riley."
But Riley ignored her, instead giving instructions of her own. "Cage, you watch Jill. Des—"
"I've got the big one." Classic Desi, never letting her finish a sentence and yet always knowing what she was going to say. The habit was obnoxious at first, but over time Riley learned to appreciate it. "See the bulge on his left side? He keeps touching it." Desi said. "He's armed."
“He’s what?” Jill exclaimed.
Chuckling, Desi said, “Now look at my left side. We match.” A small, terrified squeak was the only response. “Well, what did you think I meant when I told you I’m the team’s exfil specialist?”
“Not that!”
“And Nik’s ex?” Riley asked, redirecting the conversation.
“Seems clean.”
“He is,” Nikki confirmed. “Mac hates guns.”
“You know,” Riley said, studying the larger of the two men, “The other one kind of looks like a guy who dated my mom once.”
“Really?” Desi asked. “Think he’s the same guy?”
Riley took a closer look. He was tall, with broad, muscled shoulders and a buzzed haircut, and considering how often he fidgeted with his tie, he didn’t get dressed up often. He smiled at a passing waitress. He had an open, friendly smile, which totally contrasted with the systematic way he scanned the room. “Nah.”
Jill squawked, “Wait! Are we really still going through with this? Didn’t it just get a whole lot harder?”
“You say harder, I say more fun,” Cage said. “Just stick to the plan. You’ll be fine.”
Jill, it seemed, wasn’t so easily reassured. “Am I the only one who sees this is a trap?”
“It’s only a trap when you don’t know about it. When you do, it’s a challenge,” Riley said.
“But what if the plan goes wrong? Then what?”
At the same time, all four women answered, “Improvise.”
Riley muted her comms as she approached Nikki’s ex; Jill didn’t need the added distraction. Help her, Riley pleaded with the universe. You owe me.
Pushing her concerns about Jill to the back of her mind, Riley studied her target. There was a champagne flute in the spy’s hand, but he didn’t drink it—not even a sip—and his methodical gaze swept the room, no doubt making note of each guest and who they interacted with.
He was cute, she had to admit. Definitely Nikki’s type.
Purposefully not watching where she was going, Riley collided with him, narrowly avoiding sloshing his drink onto her shoes. She pretended to stumble, and his free hand caught her waist, ensuring Riley stayed upright. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Pardon me.”
His hand left her side. Frowning, he asked, “Do I know you?”
Don’t lie. Evade. Her former mentor taught her that.
Riley smirked. “I bet you use that line on every beautiful woman you stumble into.”
“Only when I’m too blown away to say something original.” He winked.
Maybe this would be easier than Riley anticipated. “Care to wander the museum with me while you practice your next line?”
“Normally I would, but I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking to start anything new.”
So much for that plan.
His honesty, however, was surprising.
“Not even a little fun?” she goaded, but Nikki’s ex declined once more before excusing himself and vanishing into the crowd.
At least Desi had better luck keeping the other spy occupied. She had him cornered, her body carefully angled to prevent him from seeing the slight bulge from the gun hidden in her dress. The plunging neckline had two purposes—easy access to the gun holstered at her side while providing a distracting view of her chest and intricate tattoos. It was just enough to snag wandering eyes and keep them focused on the front of her body, rather than the side. To the spy’s credit, his eyes remained pointedly fixed on Desi’s face.
“Got the keys,” Jill announced. Perfect timing.
Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “Good work, Blondie.”
Now, all they had to do was wait.
*****
While the designer yammered some pretentious bullshit about fine jewelry as the centerpiece of fashion and art, Riley slowly pushed her way to the front of the crowd gathering for the reveal. A few feet away, Cage did the same. Across from them—closest to the still-covered jewelry display case—Desi and Jill took their places. None of them were particularly interested by the designer’s speech, but Nikki would be hanging on every word if she were here.
The designer rambled on, explaining how particular pieces among the French Crown Jewels influenced the designs of his own work. It was awfully arrogant, Riley thought, comparing his own work to such timeless pieces. The longer he spoke, the more Riley disliked him and didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt for robbing him.
Lingering on the edge of the crowd, Nikki’s ex and his partner seemed content to remain out of the way. For all Riley cared, they could stay there all night.
The gallery lights flickered once. A few guests glanced up nervously, but the majority remained transfixed on the designer.
Nikki’s voice crackled through the comms. “Everyone ready? Nod once if you are.” Riley nodded. One by one, so did everyone else. “Alrighty then. Lights out in five…”
Riley counted the number of paces between her and Cage—six.
“Four…”
Paces from Cage to the jewelry case—eight.
“Three…”
Paces from the case back to her original position—ten.
Two…
Closing her eyes, Riley waited.
“One.”
Several women shrieked when the lights went out.
Riley opened her eyes, and before they’d even adjusted to the dark, she strode toward Cage. Six steps. She collided with Cage, dropping her purse on the ground and taking Cage’s identical one, containing replicas of the necklace and earrings.
Cage shouted that someone stole her purse, causing a scene. She’d chatted and flirted with enough people throughout the night for her voice to be easily recognized, and a murmur broke out among the agitated crowd, creating just enough background noise to cover the sound of Riley’s heels clicking on the floor.
Eight steps to the back side of the jewelry display. Riley could just make out Jill and Desi unlocking the case with the assistant’s keys. She braced for an alarm to sound, but there was nothing. Atta girl, Nikki.
Riley opened the purse. Carefully, Desi replaced the real jewels with the fakes, depositing the real ones inside Cage’s purse.
Jill locked the case and replaced the cover, and Riley returned to her original position among the crowd. The designer and his assistant remained oblivious to what transpired behind them, even as Jill slipped the keys back into the assistant’s dress pocket.
“Lights on in three,” Nikki warned.
Emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh white light over the murmuring crowd. A man angrily questioned what happened, followed by a chorus of “Yeah, what he said!”s in a variety of languages. The assistant urged the crowd to remain calm, promising everything would be sorted out shortly.
Riley looked over her shoulder, searching for Nikki’s ex. He was nowhere to be found. She narrowed her eyes, but with two hundred million dollars worth of jewelry in her hand, Riley decided she didn’t particularly care.
The woman Cage flirted with the longest stepped forward, picking up the purse Riley had tossed near Cage’s feet. “Isn’t this your purse?” she asked Cage.
Riley’s teammate feigned embarrassment, gracefully reclaiming the purse. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.”
Just as an outraged Cage exclaimed the purse was empty, Riley melted into the dispersing crowd, slowly making her way toward the museum’s exit. That was the plan. She’d leave first, and once she escaped with the jewels, everyone else would exit as well.
Riley retraced her steps, heels clicking on the hardwood flooring of the museum’s endless long hallways. She didn’t look at any of the art as she passed, not even a single glance. Art had always been more Nikki’s thing than hers.
Weaving her way back to the exit, Riley prayed Nikki hadn’t missed any of the cameras. She was supposed to loop them all, allowing Riley to leave the museum unseen. But with each additional camera—some obvious, some not—Riley’s anxiety rose.
Nikki knows what she’s doing, Riley reminded herself. She won’t let anything happen to me.
Two years ago, that reassurance would’ve been enough.
Now, her distrusting brain shot back, Are you sure?
Riley didn’t dignify it with a response.
Passing the museum’s security checkpoint, Riley smiled at a bored-looking security guard. “Vous partez déjà?” he asked.
Riley hoped the security guard asked why she was leaving so soon. She never did get around to brushing up on her French. “Oui, I have a flight to catch.” Not a lie, although the flight wouldn’t take off until early tomorrow morning.
The crisp night breeze prickled Riley’s bare skin. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. For the first time that night, Riley finally felt her body start to relax. The vast, empty plaza felt so much safer than the packed gallery. Still not safe enough to let her guard down, but safer. Riley slipped her hand into the purse, fingers closing around an earring. It was surprisingly heavy in her palm.
Another flawless job. The Five Eyes were back in business.
She was halfway across the plaza when Nikki started cursing, but Riley didn’t slow. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. The job was done. No turning back now.
There was a distinct male voice in the background, but Riley couldn’t make out what he said.
“What do you mean, ‘I had a feeling you’d be here’?” Nikki demanded. “We haven’t spoken in months, Mac, and I know you didn’t track me here on your own.”
Her ex’s voice was nothing more than a low, indiscernible rumble.
“What?” Nikki whispered, her voice breaking mid-word.
As much as Riley wanted to know what he said, she kept walking. But that didn’t stop the others from hissing Nikki’s name, demanding to know what was going on.
Nikki yelped, and then the male voice purred, loud and clear, “I know you’re listening, Riley. Why don’t we go on that little walk now?”
With a cold laugh, Riley said, “In your fucking dreams.” How did he know her name? As far as she knew, Nikki never mentioned her.
Still, she kept walking. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. No matter what.
Riley muted her comms, and Nikki’s piercing shriek filled her ear. A muffled grunt followed.
Then nothing.
Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.
“Riley, you need to come back,” Jill pleaded. “Nikki needs help.”
She didn’t answer, clenching her jaw with the effort to keep silent. An airplane flew overhead, and Riley tracked its path across the sky. Every step brought Riley closer to her own flight home—and the freedom that entailed. Turning around now would only put that in jeopardy.
But every step also took her away from her best friend. The woman she once believed she’d do anything for.
Jill was overreacting, Riley reasoned. Nikki was more than capable of getting herself out of a bind. Riley lost track of the number of impossible situations she and Nikki had found themselves in over the years, and they always found a way to escape.
“Sam is getting Jill out,” Desi said, slightly out of breath. “Riles, I don’t think I can get Nikki out on my own. Jill is right. You need to come back.”
Riley faltered. If Desi thought there was a problem, then something must’ve gone really, really wrong.
Maybe Jill wasn’t overreacting after all.
“Des—” Cage started. “They opened the case.”
“So?”
“They know the jewels are fake. If Riley comes back, it won’t just be Nikki going to prison.”
Prison.
Riley didn’t think she was breathing. Heart thudding wildly, her stomach tied itself into knots, and her clothes became damp with sweat. The sense of safety she’d felt earlier was gone, and Riley fought the urge to run. Every little noise—traffic, pedestrian chatter, a siren in the distance—was coming for her, ready to drag her into some dark hole she’d never emerge from.
Nothing was logical anymore, like the part of her brain capable of rational thought had gone to sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to wake up, but it was no use.
Run, while you still have the chance, her body screamed.
Everyone is responsible for their own exit, her brain repeated.
She needed to turn around. Nikki couldn’t go to prison.
Two years ago, Riley had gone to prison in Nikki’s stead. She let herself be arrested to protect her friends. Her family.
If Nikki went to prison now, then Riley’s sacrifice would be in vain.
But Riley’s body refused to turn around. Her worst memories from prison flashed before her eyes—ones Riley desperately wanted to forget—like a cougar crouching in the shadows, waiting for the exact moment she was at her weakest to pounce.
She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t go through that again.
She wouldn’t survive it twice.
“Riles,” Nikki pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where are you?”
Run, that voice in her head said. Don’t look back.
Her steps were slower now, less sure. But Riley didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
“I need you.”
Save yourself, girl.
“I’m sorry,” Riley whispered, but her comms were still muted. With a shaking hand, Riley unmuted them one last time.
It’s better this way, the voice promised. You’ll see.
It was all too easy to slip into the brutal, emotionless persona she’d built while in prison, the process having become instinct. It was necessary then, to keep her safe and alive. Now, it did the same, preventing Riley from making a mistake every cell in her body knew she wouldn’t come back from.
In a cold, unflinching voice, Riley said, “Everyone is responsible for their own exit.”
She threw her earpiece into a nearby fountain, and the click of her stilettos echoed in the night.
~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.
@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @losingitovermacriley / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay / @holbytlanna /
#beth writes#flawless au#macgyver#macgyver fanfiction#riley davis#nikki carpenter#desiree nguyen#samantha cage#jill morgan#angus macgyver#jack dalton#<- look who's back
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Love is a myth :: 04 (Finale)
DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy. The taglist is open if you want. Taglist is now closed.
WORD COUNT: 4.8K words (it’s the finale y’all don’t look at me like that)
MAIN PAIRING: musician! Yoongi X waitress! female reader
SIDE PAIRING/S: Jungkook X female reader ; Taehyung X female reader
GENRE: FWB! au ; Strangers to lovers! au
WARNINGS: Implied smut (Forgive me cuz I suck at writing it, no puns intended) ; Mentions of alcohol and smoking (I do not condone smoking) ; Profanity ; Mentions of infidelity ; Heavy angst ; Self loathing (Namjoon’s about to wack me in the head with his slipper) ; I apologize in advance if there’s any spelling errors.
SUMMARY: "You covered your bare form with the silk sheets beneath you, as you watched him walk out your door without a word." // "Love is a myth. All that existed between you two was pure lust." // "The last rule was if anyone of the two of you caught feelings for the other, the deal would be off."
SERIES MASTERLIST: Trailer » Meet the cast » Chapter #1 » Chapter #2 » Chapter #3 » Chapter #4
STATUS: Complete
You were even more motivated than ever to get ready for that blind date. Your fight with Yoongi from 4 hours ago was still fresh in your mind. You needed to get your mind off of things, and this date provided the perfect escape. You looked down at your phone that flashed with a new message.
New message from ‘Michael “Jackie”-son’(2):
‘Dress in something fancy’
‘Address: XXX, 47th street’
After ripping through every dress in your closet, you finally settled on going for a sleek, deep wine-coloured, silk gown that hugged your curves, but also loosely flowed to your feet. A slit ran down your left thigh up to your ankles through which your black lingerie stocking was sticking out. Yes, you’d chosen black lingerie for the night. It was the one you felt most confident in. Your hair was pinned into a simple, elegant, low bun, some loose strands of hair framing your face. You wore a simple chain choker, some elegant bracelets, shiny black pumps, and tiny pearls on your ears. Your lips were tinted in a gorgeous wine-shade, and your eyes were lined with a black liner. You knew your bear arms would feel cold, but you felt confident in your looks for once. But sadly this much reminded you of how your mother would dress. You pushed all these thoughts aside and grabbed your clutch, before you could make a tardy first impression.
You stood before the building, drinking in the beauty of the exterior. You weren’t too surprised as you had worked at a 5-star restaurant for the majority of your life, but you were fairly nervous as you had never been on the receiving end of such ambience, ever since you had run away from your family’s wealth when you were 16.
You walked in and were immediately greeted, “Good evening ma’am, how may I help you?”
“Ummm… I have a reservation for two under the name Mr. Kim?”
“Okay, I’ll check that for you.”
You looked around and observed the luxurious decor of the place while the hostess went through the registry. She finally cleared her throat and spoke up, “Yes ma’am, Mr. Kim has been here for 2 minutes already, if you follow me, I shall take you to your seat.” She said smiling.
Your palms start sweating as you follow the hostess to your table. Why were you so nervous? Was it because he was rich? Was it because he’d treated you to such a fancy place just for a blind date? Was it because you were afraid to break it to him how you were only expecting to have a good time, and not a committed relationship?
Your brain most definitely started malfunctioning when you saw the hostess motion you towards a man sitting at what you presumed was your table. You took small strides as you made your way over to the intimidating man. He pulled back your chair for you and seated himself in front of you.
And when your friends said this man was devilishly handsome, they weren’t exaggerating. His skin was clear and almost glowing. He was dressed in a fitted black blazer and trousers to match, along with a classic white button down underneath. His eyes were deep and intriguing, making you want to sit and stare into them all day. His lips were perfectly curved and looked inviting. You noticed two cute moles, one below his lip, and the other below his nose. His hair was a gorgeous jet black and was gelled back. A single strand cascaded on his forehead making him look even more suave. His poise held confidence, his shoulders held high, which seemed intimidating enough to you.
“Good evening Miss. Y/N.”
You thought his looks had attacked you enough. But that wasn’t the end of it. It’s when he spoke that you melted. His voice made goosebumps travel down your spine. What had you gotten yourself into? There’s no way this man was going to give you just a night of fun! What was Jackie thinking?
“G-Good evening Mr. Kim.” You said trying to cope with his formalism.
“Can we drop the act?” he asks, your eyes widening in surprise.
“Pardon?”
“I meant I know I’m intimidating, but like this is a bit much isn’t it?”
“Wha… but you…”
“Jackie said, and I quote, ‘You got money right? Flaunt it!’.” He says smiling.
“Oh god.” You say trying to hold back a smile and failing.
“Sometimes I wonder how Mark tolerates her.” He says giggling.
“They do love each other a lot.” You say sighing.
“Hey ummm… Y/N?” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, eyes shining.
//
You were sweating and panting as you held onto his shoulders.
“Taehyung, go slower, you’re killing me!” you yell out.
“Jeez what are you? 60?” he scoffs.
“Ayy you try walking in my heels!” you roll your eyes.
You were both currently walking up the stairs to an old skating rink that overlooked the entire city. Taehyung held a takeout bag with 2 simple diner style burgers in them, while his other hand was clasping yours, helping you get up the last flight of stairs. You finally reached the spot he told you about and gasped at the sight you saw. You could see the entire skyline from here and it was a gorgeous sight to enjoy while eating the perfect comfort food.
You both sat down and Taehyung handed you your dinner. “I much prefer these burgers than some expensive ass Pacific Bluefin tuna.” He says with a mouthful of food.
“I’m surprised at how humble you are.” You say sincerely.
“Yeah, the key is to never forget your roots.”
“Sometimes people need to forget their roots…” you whisper unconsciously.
“What?” he asks.
“Uhh… the burgers are delicious.”
“I know right? Mark doesn’t like them.”
“Well Mark can go jump off a cliff.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He said smiling wide, as you admire his beautiful smile.
“To be honest I never thought you’d be such a breath of fresh air when I first saw you.”
��I tend to leave such a first impression.”
“Umm… actually… I just wanted to clarify.” You say as you finish your burgers. “I don’t wanna lead you on. I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“Well you’re lucky, because I’m not either. I tend to travel a lot. And I tend to fool around here and there and not stay emotionally grounded with anyone.” He says shrugging.
“I hate commitment too. I just like to have a fun time.” You murmur.
“Want me to show you a fun time?” he asks smirking.
//
30 minutes later, you were back against the wall of your apartment, as your lips were engulfed by Taehyung’s. His tongue felt hot, clashing against the walls of your mouth, as you shamelessly moaned into the kiss. His blazer had long been discarded on your floor, and your hands were tangled in his soft black hair. His hands roamed on your body rather daringly. His hands travelled up the length of your leg, causing goosebumps across the skin of your exposed thigh. His long fingers gripped around the meat of your thighs before he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped onto his shoulders to balance yourself.
The kiss was sloppy and heated with none of you willing to stop for breath. His hands undid your hair and let your curls fall around your shoulders. His fingers thread through your long locks and he pulled on your hair, biting your lip as he broke the kiss. “You’re gorgeous.” He murmured shakily. You gave him a sly smirk and pulled his neck, connecting your lips again. He broke apart again, and stared into your eyes. His deep brown orbs were completely blown out, drowning in lust, and you were sure you matched it with the same darkness in your eyes. His voice was breathless as he said, “Why is the god damn zipper so tiny?”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency. “What’re you laughing about?” he asks furrowing his eyebrows.
“It’s just you sound like those guys who struggle with a bra clasp and end up giving up in frustration.” You laugh out loud.
“Oh I’m not giving up. You best believe I’m getting that god damn dress off of you.” He says, his voice husky.
He turned you around and dropped you on your bed. He climbed over you, his leg landing between your thighs, his hands working on taking off your dress. He devoured your lips with an almost animalistic hunger when he’d finally exposed your lingerie to him.
//
Your chest was heaving as you stared up at the white ceiling fan. You had a déjà vu from about 2 weeks ago, from one of the many nights with Yoongi, where you had watched him leave after satisfying both your needs. You turned your head to see Taehyung’s angelic face next to you, as you catch his eyes already on you.
“Why’re you staring at me like that?” you ask smiling.
“I’ve slept with a lot of people ‘for fun’. But trust me when I say I’ve never wanted to stay back and cuddle as much as I do with you.” He says sighing.
“Don’t fall in love with me Kim.” You say rolling your eyes.
“It’s next to impossible, but I’ll try.” He says sarcastically, receiving a playful nudge from you in response.
“Pillow talk has never been part of my routine…” you speak out, sincerity lacing your tone.
“Me too…” he whispers and what he does next shocks you. He places his head on your chest, his face burying into the crook of your neck, and his arms wrap around your waist, sending shivers across your bare skin.
“W-What’re you doing?”
“Don’t think about it too much, just relax.” He huffs out, his breath running against your warm neck.
You relax under his touch and involuntarily find your hands wrapping around his head as you nuzzle him closer. You let out a shaky breath as this reminds you too much of your college boyfriend. “Do you have to leave tomorrow?” you ask in a daze.
“Sorry but yes… but I have a feeling I’m not gonna lose contact with you like I do with other people I sleep with…” he said smiling.
“Me too…” you say letting your tired eyes flutter shut.
//
You wake up to a different sound everyday it seems. Today you woke up to the sound of what sounded like empty plastic bottles falling. Your eyes met with Taehyung’s, who came stumbling out of the washroom. “Sorry if I woke you up, I accidently dropped the shampoo bottles on your counter.”
“No it’s okay.” You say smiling as you got up and put on your robe onto your naked form.
You watched Taehyung, as he was folding the sleeves of his white button down to his elbows. His hair cascaded over his forehead in a messy, but still intimidating manner. He looked up at you as he grabbed his coat. “Well I should get going, my driver’s downstairs.”
“Oh okay…” you murmur softly.
He walks up to you and lifts up your chin ever so lightly. You meet his warm smile and you instantly melt. He leans in and lands a soft kiss against your lips. “I left my number on a note on the night stand. Promise me, we’ll stay in touch.”
“Sure.” You say sighing, with a sad smile.
“Hey, I meant to be friends, not for just hooking up again…” he says chuckling lightly.
“Oh…” your eyes were wide.
“Well I have to go now, bye Y/N I had a great time…” he says walking away, his hand slipping from your hold.
You watched as he left your place, and you went to take a shower. Somehow this time when you heard the familiar click of the door, you didn’t feel hurt. Even though Taehyung was gone, you didn’t feel sad. Did it have anything to do with the affection he had shown you, besides the lustful sin you had committed?
//
Yoongi walked up the stairs of your building. His hair was a mess, his eyes were swollen from not getting enough sleep. He didn’t like the way he had yelled at you yesterday. He wasn’t in the right mind and he was just angered when you had told him that the memories he held dearest to his heart were a mistake. He finally reached your floor at 9 am in the morning, hoping he could resolve a few unspoken issues. Confrontation was always Yoongi’s go-to method.
But Yoongi stopped in his tracks when he saw a man with tussled dark hair close the door to your apartment. He could only assume the worst by the sight in front of him. The man passed by Yoongi, bowing out of courtesy on his way to the stairs. All his obsessive thoughts started coming back to him. Maybe you didn’t want to go back to being friends. Maybe you should stick to the deal you had made. The slight bit of confidence Yoongi had when he was making his way to meet you was wiped away as he turned on his heel and made his way towards the exit.
He needed some time. You needed some time. Alone.
//
The next whole week had gone by in a blur. Yoongi was procrastinating on whether or not to talk to you, ultimately deciding against it. You had continued to ignore Yoongi’s presence in your workplace the whole time. He didn’t walk you home every night since. You had also begun texting Taehyung from time to time, and you both had settled on being just friends, since you learned you both much enjoyed each other’s goofy side. Your life was in a constant loop, going to work, ignoring Yoongi, reaching home, and sleeping, only to repeat the same schedule every other day of the week.
But today was a bit different. It was a Saturday night, and tonight was important for you, and every other employee. Tonight, all the heads and managers of the other branches of this ambiguous chain of luxury restaurants, were here to dine. Along with the CEO of this chain. You knew you were a waitress, but you had assisted in cooking tons of times before. Tonight they had all the experienced heads, like you assist in cooking, while they assigned the newly trained rookies as hosts and hostesses. You were all told to be super attentive and to make your nerves worse, you were being supervised by your head chef and manager Kim Seokjin.
But the timing was completely wrong. Today your thoughts about your personal life were unnecessarily heightened. Seeing Yoongi working his fingers across the monochrome keys of the sleek black piano, he himself being dressed in an all-black suit and shirt tailored to be strained across his firm chest, was extremely distracting. You tossed the meat into the pan, aware of the powerful gaze of Seokjin standing in the corner of the kitchen.
You tried to vaporize the alcohol by doing a simple flambé. You had done it tons of times before. You tilted the pan so the fire could catch the alcohol and a flame could erupt in your pan. But your mind being lost elsewhere you were shocked when the flame came on, and failed to move out of the way in time, burning your exposed forearm in the process. You yelped in surprise and pain as Maya took the pan from you for relief.
“Chef, focus! This is no time to slack!” Seokjin’s voice rang through the loud kitchen.
You huffed in annoyance and took the pan back from Maya explaining to her you’re okay, and began tossing the meat, ignoring the searing pain in your arm and the mark that was beginning to darken. As soon as all the dishes were made, you were given a 5 minute breather, till you waited for new customers to arrive. You stood in the corner, your hands cupping the burn on your hand in pain. You looked up in surprise when you heard a slam on the table in front of you. You watched Seokjin walk away, as you looked down at the ice pack he had left for you on the table. You couldn’t help but land a small smile as you iced the burn on your arm.
It wasn’t 10 minutes later, and you were already pan frying zucchinis and slicing cherry tomatoes. Your break had barely lasted 2 minutes, before you had been called in to make a very important dish for the CEO’s family which had just arrived. “Move it! Move it! We don’t want to keep Mr. Kang waiting!” you heard Seokjin clap his palms together.
What didn’t help your sense of urgency and added to the pressure was Yoongi entering the kitchen, as he stood in the corner having a chat with Seokjin. You knew that they were close, but you never knew Yoongi was close enough to lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder like that. You immediately placed the dish onto the counter, your mind distracted by Yoongi’s presence.
Before you knew it there was a sharp call of your name leaving Seokjin’s lips. “CHEF Y/N?!”
You rushed towards the counter, scared out of your wits. You watched as Yoongi’s eyes met yours in a sense of panic. “Y-Yes Mr. Kim?”
“DID YOU DROWN THIS SALMON IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN AND PLACE IT ON THE CEO’S PLATE?”
“N-No sir…”
“IT’S SALTIER THAN THE BOTTOM OF THE PACIFIC! YOU KNOW WHAT COULD’VE HAPPENED IF WE SEND THIS PLATE OUT? YOUR HEAD IS NOT IN THE GAME CHEF! WE DON’T HAVE ROOM FOR AMATEURS IN THIS ESTABLISHED CHAIN!”
“I-I’m sorry sir…” you said trying not to let the humiliation get to you.
“You are one of my trusted employees so this is a warning, but if this happens again, I’m gonna have to let you go, you understand that chef?” Seokjin finally calms down and says.
“Y-Yes sir…” you feel everyone’s eyes on you.
“Retire for the night chef. You’re too distracted. We’ll fill in with someone else. You can leave.” Seokjin announces before leaving the kitchen. You take off your apron and before any of the others can ask you any questions, you stride out the back door. You sit down on your heels in the dark alley and hold your head and pull on your hair in frustration.
Damn you Min Yoongi.
Your cheeks stained with long gone tears, you held a cigarette up to your lips, as you tried to calm yourself down. You heard the door to the kitchen creak open.
“Don’t try to ask me if I’m okay Jackie because frankly I’m n—” you speak out without looking.
“The name’s Yoongi, Min Yoongi. Not Jackie.” A low voice echoes down the walls of the alley.
All you can do is let out a huff of frustration and crush your cigarette under your shoe. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you… just wanted to check on you…”
“Since when do you care about my feelings?” you ask rhetorically, not expecting an answer.
“Since last month I suppose, since when we walked to your apartment that night.” His straight forward answer surprises you.
“What are we doing Yoongi?! What the hell is going on with us?!” you ask frustration lacing your tone. “We’re supposed to be fuck buddies. And we haven’t even had sex in 2 weeks! And before I know it, we’re sharing deep secrets with each other and talking to each other like we’ve known each other for years, and kissing each other like we’re in love—”
“Because I am in love.”
//
Yoongi stops your little rant and shocks you with his words. You weren’t expecting such a direct answer to leave his mouth. You stood up, brushing out your skirt and muttered softly. “W-What?”
“You heard me. I’m in love.” He enunciates.
“But why?” you ask, oblivious. “I’m damaged goods. I’m toxic. We both are in a toxic relationship.”
“But I’m willing to work to fix that.” Yoongi says with soft eyes. “I want to fix that gaping hole that the bastard left in your heart 6 years ago.”
“Listen I really like you too, but I don’t want to… hurt you…”
“You would never intentionally do that…”
“I-I’m not ready…”
“I’ll be here for you when you’re ready. This is new to me too! We can work through it together, please Y/N just trust me.”
You sigh loudly. Before you could think you grabbed his collar and landed a kiss on his lips. He stumbled, but eventually his arms snaked around your waist, holding you so tight, afraid to let you go. You broke the kiss and looked into his beautiful deep brown orbs. “You really wanna do this?”
“Yes.” He smiles and lands a small peck on your cheek.
You smack his chest playfully and say, “You’re creeping me out, what happened to the Yoongi who could never even give me a straight compliment?”
“Well I’m afraid someone changed him…” Yoongi says after thinking.
“Oh really? Who may that special someone be?” you smirk playfully.
“This woman at work. I’ve known her for 4 years, but never got around to talking to her until about 2 months ago.” He says chuckling.
“Wow what a coward.” You scoff.
“Well I don’t care, because I proudly simp for her now.” He says, his precious gummy smile making a rare appearance.
You tug his collar, and smile as you look into his eyes. You lean in painfully slow, your breath ghosting his lips, but never coming close enough to touch them. “Quit playing me like that.” Yoongi whines making you giggle.
“Well maybe I should—”
“Miss. Y/N— oh sorry, please meet me inside, I need to have a word with you chef.” Seokjin says from behind the door.
You immediately shove Yoongi away and walk back into the restaurant, your cheeks on fire. “Yes sir?” you say once you’re inside facing him.
“I’d expect you to be a bit more professional. I didn’t peg you as the type of person to have a romantic rendezvous behind your workplace, but go off I guess.” He sighs. “Well getting to the point, I just wanted to say that, please maintain your work ethic. Your professionalism is something I’ve always respected, and something that made you stand out in this field. And I’d love to keep you in this kitchen, so please focus on your job.”
“Yes sir.” You say softly, feeling a bit relieved.
“And… I apologize for over reacting a while ago. I was not in the right head space. It’s just the CEO never stops pestering me on the tiniest details, and I wanted to prove him wrong, and show him that I can run this place. So if he received an overly salted plate, he would hold that against me my whole life.”
“I understand sir. You don’t need to apologize. I’ll be sure to maintain my work ethic and never make a careless mistake like that again.” You say smiling.
“Great. Well have a good night chef.” He says before bowing in courtesy and exiting the empty kitchen. You noticed that all the dishes had been done, so you went back to grab your coat and exited the restaurant to your new life waiting for you in the dark alley.
//
You were pretty sure you made the cab driver uncomfortable, but it’s nothing he hadn’t seen before. You both had long forgotten the sweet kisses and passionate hugs you guys had given each other merely 30 minutes ago, when you confronted each other, and now you were busy devouring each other’s lips, your tongues twisted in a feverish make out session.
You stumbled into a familiar apartment, not yours, but in fact Yoongi’s. It had been 3 weeks since you’d last been here. You wasted absolutely no time as you both hurriedly discarded all your clothes onto the floor. Yoongi gripped your hip, with enough force to bruise it, as he lifted your form across the house and dropped you onto his bed. You drank in the familiar scent of Yoongi’s sheets around you, and the sight of a hovering Yoongi above you. His eyes mirrored yours, drowning in lust. His hair was disheveled and he looked at you with hunger. His lips landed on your neck, as you tilted your head the other way to make room for him to explore as much as he could. His hands ran along your sides as your hands raked his back. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you let out an uncontrollable moan, when you felt his teeth nip into the skin at your collarbone. You felt his warm tongue lick the mark he had made on you, as he continued his way down your torso.
“You sure you wanna do this?”
“Bitch, we’ve fucked 15 times before!” you laugh out loud.
“Jeez woman, I’m out here trying to make it romantic, and you just rail me like that?”
“Just shut up and do it. I need you right now.” You whine, which seems to turn him on.
//
Your eyes flutter open and you’re surprised that you aren’t woken up by any displeasing noises. The sunlight partially blocked by the semi see-through blinds, cast a dim light in the room. You found your head resting on Yoongi’s chest, a soft rhythmic breath leaving his chest, sounding like music to your ears. Your hand laid across his naked chest, while his hand was wrapped around you, his palm laying across your bare back. You yawned and suddenly flinched when you felt Yoongi’s lips on your forehead.
“Good morning.” He said, his voice raspy and gruff.
“Good morning.” You reply smiling.
“I’ve never wanted to wake up next to someone this badly…” he sighs.
“Why’re you so cheesy? What happened to Yoongi? Who are you?”
“I don’t know Y/N… but I’m open to change.” He says smiling, looking down to meet your eyes.
You chuckle in response. You watch as his fingers run across your hand which is laying on his chest. His fingers brush your knuckles and he looks as though he’s in deep thought. “Where’s your ring?” he asks unconsciously.
“I took it off last night. It’s on your night stand.” You say smiling.
“Oh… well I hate to break it to you, and I know it’s a Sunday, but I booked us a brunch reservation at a nice café down the street.”
“You really didn’t have to…”
“But I did. We’ve been sleeping with each other for 2 months, and I haven’t taken you out on a proper date, like ever!”
“Well food does sound like a good idea, I’m starving.”
“Well then get your tiny tushie outta bed.” He says playfully pinching your cheek, and jumping out of bed to freshen up.
After you both had showered and gotten your clothes on, you were wearing your heels by the door, when Yoongi walked out of his bedroom, “You forgot this!” he says handing you your silver ring. His curious eyes watched, as you took the ring from him, and slipped it into your purse instead of putting it on your finger. “Come on let’s go.” You said grabbing his hand, unaware of the wide smile your bare hand had brought onto Yoongi’s face.
//
Brunch was delicious. And so was the dinner date you had a week later. 2 weeks had gone by, smooth sailing for your new relationship. Your fingers remained naked, no ring in trace, in the entirety of the last 2 weeks. It was a cold Friday night, and you were now sitting at the piano bench, in an empty restaurant. You glanced over your shoulder to see Yoongi’s eyes, focused on the keys in front of him. For once in a long time you could truly say you were happy. Your life was blissful.
“Y/N…?” Yoongi says interrupting your thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Could you sing…?”
“Sure.” You said smiling, as you already knew which song he wanted you to sing. You cleared your throat as you begun the first verse of ‘My Heart Will Go On’.
There you both were, all alone, doing the things you loved, with the person you loved beside you, and you couldn’t have asked for more. No more did you feel lost. No more did you think of love as a myth. You had finally found someone to keep your heart safe, in this cruel world. And you couldn’t be happier, that your savior was Min Yoongi.
«Previous :: Masterlist
A/N: Y’all I still can’t believe I wrote a whole ass series. I’m usually one to write really long oneshots or two shots, but I decided to turn this into a chapter wise series. Anyways, I hope you guys really liked it, and stay tuned for more works from me, in the near future :)
Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69 for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)
TAGLIST: @kookieebangtan
#bts#bts x reader#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fan fiction#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#jimin#jhope#namjoon#seokjin#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#taehyung smut#taehyung fanfic#yoongi x reader#taehyung#kim taehyung#bts taehyung#bts smut#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fan fiction#yoongi#min yoongi#bts yoongi
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s n a k e | e y e s [chapter 3]
pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader
this chapter’s notes; 🥺💕thank you for all the interest in snake eyes!! I can't believe it!! y’all don’t know how happy that makes me because I love this au!! 💕💕💕 in this chapter: jihoonie makes a small oopsies 🥴oral(female receiving), minor switch!woozi, hehehe... im sorry, im mean and u will know why 😭😭💕 also this chapter is long, strap in for the long ass ride!! yeehaw
chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x - x - x
It takes a week and a half for you and Jihoon to really fall into a rhythm that suits his and your needs.
Jihoon is still shy around you, only spending an hour or two with you while you work until he feels too awkward again, slinking away back into his room. You wonder, periodically, if he happened to hear what you were doing in your bedroom the night he came to stay with you and if that was the reason he’d been so shy and quiet around you. But you quickly shake the thoughts out of your head, preferring to believe that he hadn’t, for your sake and his. Jihoon had never mentioned anything to you anyway, so you had no reason to believe he’d heard anything.
But it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon that has you bundled up in an oversized sweater on the living room sofa, laptop haphazardly on a side table while you take a break from writing. A movie plays quietly on the tv in front of you, but you don’t really pay attention to it. Jihoon emerges from his room, covered up in a big sweater and his sweats as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.
“It’s… r-really cold today…” His voice is soft, almost a whisper, as he pulls his legs up onto the sofa, crossing them as he tries to cover his skin. “I… kinda had a h-hard time sleeping.”
“Did you need more heaters? The forecast said it’s supposed to rain for the next couple days, Jihoon…” You trail off, already sliding off of the sofa as you fetch a blanket for the cold male. “I can go pick you up another one tomorrow, if you’d like?” Draping the soft blanket over him, he thanks you, snuggling into the soft material. “If it’s okay… I don’t want you to go out of your way if it’s too much.” You chuckle, settling into your spot on the sofa again as you pick up your laptop to get a bit of work done.
“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable here.”
Jihoon’s stomach grumbles 45 minutes later as he sinks deeper into the plush blanket, hiding the flush that covers his cheeks. You laugh slightly, already hopping off to make him and yourself a snack to eat.
“You’re more than welcome to rummage the kitchen whenever you want, y’kno. Or if you want me to make you something to eat, you can always ask.”
“Sorry I’m just… still getting used to it. You’re definitely nicer than my past owners.” You hum, curious about how his previous owners treated him for him to be this shy, or if he was just naturally always this timid. “It’s okay! Take your time. I know it’s weird but I’m… I’m still getting used to it too.” You feel your body heating up, suddenly reminded of a questionable dream you’d had the previous night; the cute snake hybrid invading even your mind when you slept recently. God I really need to get laid somehow, you think, maybe that cute barista from down the street would be interested? I think his name was Jun. Reminder to self to get his number next time.
You grab a pan, setting it onto the stove as you gather ingredients to make ddeokbokki; something that Jihoon really loved to snack on. “Hey, Jihoon? Did you wanna help me make this? I can teach you a bit!”
There’s a shuffling from the living room before the blonde haired male steps into the kitchen, a curious look on his face.
“I’ve never cooked before though…”
“It’ s okay! I can teach you. Just so that.. Um, just in case I’m not home or something and you get hungry?” He nods, stepping closer towards you as you set various ingredients onto the counter top. “Okay, I’ll just... Watch you.” You smile at him, urging him to come closer as you begin explaining what to do. But Jihoon’s mind fixates on something else, your voice getting drowned out when he feels the warmth radiating off of your body when he steps closer. Unbeknownst to you, Jihoon decides to stand almost directly behind you as you continue to explain how to cook to him.
When his hands start to slide up the hem of your sweater, you pause, setting the measuring cup back onto the counter top where it was before. Jihoon’s cold fingertips begin traveling up your sides, delicately caressing your skin under your sweater. Your breath is caught in your throat when he then leans his head over your shoulder, his tongue softly lapping at the exposed skin of your neck. A moan catches in your throat when you realize your body’s already rapidly heating up at his touch, the snake hybrid behind you also letting out a tiny moan of his own when he realizes how warm you’ve gotten.
But you snap back to reality, panic taking over when you let out a garbled noise, pushing back against Jihoon.
“Oh my g-god, wait--wh--”
Jihoon panics, pupils shaking as he pulls away completely, pressing himself into the fridge for a second before immediately bolting out of the kitchen without a word; only a door slam in the distance letting you know where he is.
A couple hours pass, the rain still pattering against the window as the moon rises beyond the clouds.
The ddeokbokki from earlier went unmade; ingredients going back to their original places as you decided to retreat to your own bedroom to catch your breath and cool yourself down. You really hadn’t hated what happened earlier, but it was quite the shock, and you could only imagine what Jihoon was feeling as well. But you set those feelings aside, making your way down the hallway to his bedroom to ask him about dinner. Fuck, he must be starving. He didn’t even eat earlier, you think.
You knock on his door, a muffled “yes?” coming from the other side.
“Jihoon did you want to eat dinner with me or will you eat later?”
“Uhm, hmm, I’m…um, I’ll.. I’ll eat with y-you.”
You set up the dinner table, setting Jihoon’s food across from you. You were glad that he just ate normal human food as it made it easier for you to take care of him; unsure if you could sit and watch him eat what snakes normally did. Hearing a door click, you break out of your thoughts, seeing him walk towards the dining table with a blush on his face.
“I… um…”
“Yes Jihoon?”
“I just… about earlier, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have… um, stuck my hands in y-your shirt like that…”
The memory alone has you blushing, his delicate and cold fingertips brushing against your ribcage had a tingle traveling up your spine and down to your fingertips. You hadn’t hated it; just the shock from his touches had you initially recoiling, sending Jihoon running straight for his bedroom where he had holed up for hours.
“I… It was okay. I, um, didn’t hate it actually…”
“O-oh, uh, so… um, is it okay? If… If I do that sometimes? It’s… you feel nicer than, um, the h-heaters in my room so…”
“Y-yeah, I mean… y-yes, that would be… okay.” Shock momentarily flits over his features before a genuine smile etches onto his face. “Okay… U-um I mean, it---it won’t---I won’t, y’know, stick my hands in your shirt but maybe like---like we can, um, cuddle? Sometimes?” You almost choke on your food at his suggestion, suddenly too shy to make eye contact with him at how innocent it all sounded.
“Yeah that… that would be fine!”
The two of you have normal dinner conversations, you asking him about songs he’s been working on while he asks you about work. You remind him that you’ll pick up a new heater in the morning and begin clearing the table with his help.
When the dishes are cleared, you bid Jihoon a good night; thankful that the snake hybrid wasn’t too awkward after everything that had happened earlier in the day. He calls your name as you turn away from your doorway to face him again.
“Yes, Jihoon?”
“Um, I was wondering… If it’d be okay if I slept in your room? It’s just… Uh, it’s cold and raining and... yeah.”
You contemplate it for a second, wondering if that was really the best idea, all things considered. But you mentally shrug, thinking, it’s just sleep.
“Sure, why not. Why don’t you get ready for bed and just… come in when you’re ready?” He nods, thanking you before he slinks down the hallway to his bedroom to change. The entire thing feels a little questionable, but you shrug it off, getting ready for bed before Jihoon shows up.
Admittedly, you normally would sleep in a big shirt and panties since you slept alone. But since Jihoon would be joining you this time, you slip on a sweater and some pajama pants, opting to be completely covered in order to prevent any potential mishaps. You could only pray your dreams were normal.
There’s a knock on the door when you slide under the bed sheets, adjusting your pillows before you reply.
“Come in!”
Jihoon opens the door, shutting it behind him as he stands in front of it awkwardly. Much like yourself, he stands there in an oversized sweater and pajama pants, hands digging into the material of his sweater as he takes in the features of your bedroom. When his eyes finally land on you already under the sheets, you pat the side of the bed that’s empty, inviting him in.
“C’mon let’s sleep. I still need to go out tomorrow morning to get your things.”
The extra heater is forgotten the next morning when you wake up in his iron grip.
It’s not uncomfortable, but he’s only got one arm wrapped around your waist and you find it almost virtually impossible to escape his hold as he snores softly into your neck. So you lay there, listening to the pitter-patter of the non-stop rain and his soft breaths, thankful that the two of you had fallen asleep without a hitch and that your dreams were normal.
Jihoon had quietly slid into the large bed with you, muttering a ‘good night’ before your radiating warmth under the sheets had lulled him to sleep.
You don’t know how much time passes as you lay there, but eventually Jihoon decides to wake up, a yawn and a simple ‘good morning’ muffled into your skin before he pulls away, turning to face the opposite side. You sit up, rubbing your tired eyes as you check the clock. 11:09am.
“Did you want breakfast?”
You never buy the heater; Jihoon happily moving some of his personal items to your bedroom after that late morning breakfast. And you didn’t mind, as long as the snake hybrid was happy, so were you.
He had dragged in a heater, using it on nights when you came to bed late, only for you to shut it off when you finally slid underneath the covers. He would easily find your warmth, rolling over to lock you into his grasp as you fell asleep.
It became routine over the next couple of weeks, even when the clouds cleared and the days and nights were warm. Jihoon opened up to you more as well, dragging his keyboard into the living room to play you some of the songs he’d been working on in his old bedroom, now a work space. You’d often work in your spare room but recently you’d been spending more time in the living room with Jihoon, finding the space more comfortable to be in. Setting your work away, you lay down on the sofa, a yawn on your lips.
“Hey, can I, um, ask you something?”
His voice breaks you out of your train of thought as you adjust your body. Jihoon sits on the floor near the window, fingers tapping random keys on the keyboard as he avoids eye contact.
“Yeah, what’s up?” There’s hesitance written all over his face before he nods to himself, exhaling sharply before he replies.
“I… I know maybe I’m asking for a lot and, I mean, feel free to say no because I know you probably will! And that’s--that’s okay but I was wondering… if--if I…” Jihoon pauses for much too long as you raise a brow.
“If you what? Jihoon, is everything okay?”
“I, yeah, everything’s fine, I just.. I’m sorry, I… It’s okay if you think it’s weird and I’ve never really done it before either but I just, I noticed when… when I touch you, you get really, um, warm and I… I like it a lot so I was wondering if I could try something?”
A million different thoughts float through your head in a millisecond and you can’t stop the blush that creeps up your neck and paints your face red.
“Um, I guess… it would depend? What exactly… did you want to try?” You bite the inside of your cheek, already trying to keep yourself from squirming around.
“I… can I try… eating you out? I wanna see something.”
The formality of Jihoon asking so politely if he could go down on you sends your brain short circuiting quicker than lightning.
He’s convinced at this point you hate him and will probably send him back to the adoption home the next day when he sees the blank look on your face as you process.
“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked that, I---”
“Y-yes…”
“Wait, what, hold--” Jihoon turns into a sputtering mess, his palms clammy against his sweats as he squirms. “Wait, did you say… yes?” You nod, already feeling the heat pooling in your lower abdomen as you shift awkwardly on the sofa. “Yeah I… um, I’d… be okay with that…” Trailing off, you try to look at everything but Jihoon, mildly embarrassed at how increasingly wet you were already getting.
“O-okay, um, when should we… do it?” Jihoon’s voice is shaky and to anyone else he sounded nervous, but inside he could barely contain his new found excitement.
“Now is okay? I… I’m okay with right now.” You finally look at him, finding him already crawling over to you on the floor before moving the coffee table enough to sit on his knees in front of you. “I guess, let’s start…?” He trails off, the blush never leaving his face as he twiddles his thumbs. You nod, sitting up to slide your shorts off, shimmying to the edge of the sofa as you spread your legs for him.
“Interesting.”
“W-what?” You stare at him from between your legs as he slots himself in front of you, cold palms holding your thighs open as you shiver from his touch. “Nothing, just… you’re already wet.”
If there was a sinkhole underneath you, you’d like for it to take you right about now. The embarrassment sets your body on fire as Jihoon chuckles under his breath. “And now you’re really warm? Interesting.” You bite your lip as he leans in closer to your clothed mound, his tongue peeking out from between his lips.
“Ready to test my theory?”
Gulping, he doesn’t even give you a chance to reply before he’s licking you through your panties, his tongue adding pressure along the wet patch growing on the fabric. Your thighs threaten to clamp shut around his head but his grip on you is too tight, prying your legs wide open as he continues to lick at your clothed entrance.
Jihoon pauses for a second, a groan leaving his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good, I need to get these panties off of you now.” Agreeing, you hook your fingers into the band of your panties, ready to get them off.
“Ah, ah, not like that.” There’s a ghost of a smirk on his face before he lets go of your thighs, fingertips pushing your hands away and replacing them with his before he tears them in half, the soaked material sliding off of your body as you stare at him in shock.
“Jihoon, what th---”
“What? Didn’t think I was capable?” You’re at a loss for words; the sudden change in his demeanor from shy to slightly dominating, intoxicating. “I’m just… wow.” He laughs at your lack of response, gripping your thighs again as he leans back in, his tongue already on your slit as he licks up a stripe from your clit to your entrance. Your hands immediately tangle into his hair, moaning as his tongue laps at your wetness.
You feel like you’re floating on clouds, warm and dreamy while Jihoon eats you out. He hadn’t even used his fingers on you yet, only sliding his tongue through your folds and prodding at your entrance and you were sure you could cum just like this.
“Ngh, Jihoon… Can you… make me cum?”
The male between your legs hums in response before his tongue flicks at your clit, a groan leaving you when he draws harsh circles around the nub. You can feel the pressure in your body cresting as you try to grind down on his waiting tongue.
“Jihoon, I’m---”
When you wake up, Jihoon is still by the window, notebook full of music related jargon as he glances up at you. “Oh hey, I was wondering when you’d wake up. You fell asleep so fast after you laid down, I was gonna ask if you wanted to hear some of the stuff I was working on but you were out like a light.”
Your head is void of any thoughts as you stare blankly into Jihoon’s face; the entire thing had been a dream. A cold sweat coats your body as you sit up, the wetness between your legs insanely real.
“I… yeah, I guess I was tired… I--I didn’t say anything weird in my sleep, did I?”
Jihoon ponders for a moment, lips tilting cutely up into a pout.
“No, I mean, you made some weird little squeaky noises but… that was it. Why? Did you have a weird dream or something?”
“Uh… no, just… wondering.”
Fuck.
#snakehybrid!woozi#woozi smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios
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