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leriexoxo · 21 days ago

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Hands On My Throat

Bestfriend! Chan x Reader

Tags: explicit sexual content, choking kink / neck play, brat taming, praise + possessiveness, slight dom/sub dynamic, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, multiple positions, couch sex, shower sex, best friends to lovers, sexual tension

Word count : 9.6k

Summary: He’s the golden boy of your friend group, also your best friend of ten years. Touchy without thinking. Protective without asking. And hot—criminally hot—without ever being yours. Until one night, in the middle of a crowded living room, his hand wraps around your neck without thinking. And you realize… he has no idea.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

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There was no knock. There never was.

Chan walked into your apartment like he paid rent—hoodie half-zipped, keys jingling in his hand, the familiar scent of clean laundry and whatever cologne he swiped from his dresser that morning trailing in after him. He kicked off his shoes like a man with no shame and made a beeline for your fridge.

You didn’t even look up from your laptop. “You steal one more yogurt and I’m reporting you to the building board.”

He opened the fridge. “You don’t even like Greek yogurt.”

“You don’t know my life.”

“I know you used it once for a TikTok mask and gagged.”

You grinned. “Okay, fine. But still. Ask before you mooch.”

He shut the fridge and padded over, yogurt in one hand, water bottle in the other. “Never have. Never will.”

Chan dropped onto the couch beside you, close enough for his thigh to press solidly against yours. He stretched his arm behind you like he was at a movie theatre trying to flirt with a stranger. His fingers brushed your shoulder, then stayed there. Rested. Comfortable.

Normal.

You didn’t move. Just kept typing, one leg curled beneath you, the other pressed tight against his. You’d long since stopped noticing how often his body found yours. Chan was touchy—had been since high school. Always stretching across your lap, squeezing your arms, playing with your fingers absentmindedly during long talks. You didn’t even flinch when his palm dropped to your knee now, warm and casual.

This was just how it had always been.

People didn’t get it. Not back in school, not in college, not now when you lived a few floors apart and spent most nights either at his place or yours. The teasing from friends had been endless, and the side-eyes never stopped. But neither of you had ever crossed that line. Not even once.

Not even close.

You were hot. He was hot. That was an objective fact. But hot didn’t mean available. It didn’t mean interested. Not between you two.

Chan opened the yogurt with one hand and shoved the lid at you. “Lick this. Be useful.”

You turned your face slowly. “You want me to lick your foil lid?”

“I’m not dirtying a spoon just to eat this.”

“You’re so unserious.”

“I’m efficient.”

You took the lid, licked it once with a dramatic roll of your eyes, and handed it back. “Happy?”

He grinned. “Always.”

He popped the rest of the yogurt into his mouth and grabbed the TV remote, settling in like he didn’t plan on leaving for hours. You weren’t surprised. Most nights looked like this—Chan in your space, touching you somewhere, somehow, while the two of you talked about everything and nothing. He never asked. You never flinched. You barely noticed anymore.

And even when his hand slid just a little higher on your thigh—thumb brushing back and forth across the thin fabric of your shorts—you didn’t think twice. It didn’t register. Just Chan being Chan. Just another Tuesday.

⸻

Chan’s living room was loud. Like it always was when everyone crowded into his space.

Music buzzed from the Bluetooth speaker someone had connected half an hour ago. Your group of friends were splayed across every surface—couch cushions, beanbags, someone cross-legged on the floor—arguing over which movie to watch while the food delivery slowly made its way through Friday night traffic.

You were curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, half-listening, half-scrolling on your phone. Comfortable. Cozy. Familiar.

You’d lost count of how many nights like this there’d been. Movie nights, lazy dinners, game nights that never ended with the actual game. And Chan—always at the center of it. Hosting, leaning against walls with his arms crossed, eyes creased from laughter.

Right now, he was behind you, one knee on the couch as he leaned over to grab the remote off the coffee table. The angle brought his chest close to your back, the edge of his hoodie brushing your cheek before he spoke over your head.

“Why are we even voting?” he asked. “We all know it’s gonna end up being some sad indie movie with subtitles.”

“Because you like chaos,” someone shot back. “We’re trying to have feelings tonight.”

Chan huffed a laugh, dropped the remote onto the cushion beside you, and stayed where he was—half-standing behind the couch, his weight shifting from one arm to the next.

Then you felt it.

One hand landed lightly on your shoulder. And before you could glance back or even think twice, it slid upward.

His palm curved gently around the side of your neck.

Not tight. Not firm. Just resting.

His thumb brushed the underside of your jaw once, then paused, like he was measuring something.

“Huh,” he murmured, half to himself. “Your neck’s tiny.”

He squeezed—not hard, just curious. Testing the width of it in his hand. Like he was checking the fit of something he already owned. His fingers spread easily around your throat, thick and relaxed, his thumb nearly meeting his fingertips on the other side.

You didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

You kept your phone up, face calm, body casual. But inside?

You were choking.

Silently. Violently.

He had no idea.

He wasn’t even thinking about it. It was just Chan being Chan—touchy, absentminded, always touching you. Always. You’d never given it a second thought.

But this?

This was the one place you’d never imagined his hand.

The one part of your body that could short-circuit you with just a look, if the wrong person stared too long. And here he was—fingers wrapped casually around it, thumb brushing over your pulse, eyes probably still on the TV while your soul momentarily left your body.

You blinked. Swallowed. Scrolled aimlessly to mask the tension pooling hot in your stomach.

“Chan,” someone called out. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he said distractedly, thumb still grazing your neck. “Just thinking how weird it is that this—” he gave the softest squeeze, “—could pop like a grape.”

You let out a short, strangled sound that you masked as a cough.

Chan chuckled and finally moved away, dropping onto the armrest beside you with a bounce. His arm still brushed your shoulder, but the pressure on your throat was gone. Like it never happened.

Like it meant nothing.

And to him, it probably didn’t.

But to you?

You weren’t even sure if your breath had come back yet.

⸻

The door shut with a final click.

Silence fell over Chan’s apartment, the kind that only came after hours of noise—empty cups scattered across his counter, the echo of laughter still clinging to the walls. You sank deeper into the couch with a sigh, one hand absently rubbing your shoulder where it ached from sitting in the same position too long.

Chan reappeared from the kitchen, hair pushed back by a band now, hoodie sleeves rolled to the elbows. He tossed a bottle of water onto the coffee table and plopped down beside you, then paused.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you said, too quick. “Just… tired.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re stiff.”

You shrugged, not looking at him. “Yeah, well. You try staying upright for four hours while Minho screams at the TV like it insulted his mother.”

Chan smiled lazily. “You’re carrying tension. Scoot up.”

“What?”

He patted the space between his legs. “C’mon. Let me fix it.”

You hesitated, but only for a beat.

This wasn’t new. He’d given you shoulder rubs before—during finals in college, during hell weeks at your old job, after long car rides or moving days. It was Chan. Your Chan. The one person you trusted not to make anything feel weird.

So you shifted forward, sitting cross-legged between his thighs, and let him rest his hands on your shoulders.

At first, it was nothing.

Just firm pressure. The pads of his thumbs pushing slow, rhythmic circles into your traps, rolling out the knots like he had all the time in the world. You melted, just a little, head tipping forward under the strength of it.

“Jesus,” you muttered, “where did you even learn how to do that?”

“Years of stress,” he said. “You get good at fixing what you live with.”

You huffed something like a laugh, eyelids falling shut.

Then his thumbs pushed deeper, finding the ridge near the base of your neck, and you let out a low groan of relief.

It felt too good. Way too good.

But it was still safe.

Until his hands shifted.

Slid higher.

Thumbs brushing the edges of your neck now. Rubbing the muscles that fed into it. Soft. Slow. Intent.

Your body tensed before your brain caught up—and then it slipped.

A sound left you.

High-pitched. Sharp.

Needy.

You bit it back immediately, lips slamming shut, but the damage was done. It hung there in the air for a second too long—too feminine, too out of place for the room’s quiet.

Chan stilled.

You didn’t breathe.

Then—

“You good?” he asked lightly, voice above your head.

You could hear the confusion. Like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard it right. Or if you meant it the way it sounded.

“I—yeah.” Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat. “Just sore.”

He hummed. Didn’t say anything else.

His hands moved again, this time slower, gentler—sweeping wide across your shoulders before sliding up again, thumbs circling your neck with almost tender pressure. Like he was feeling out the muscle tension—but also maybe trying to see if you’d make that sound again.

You were still. Too still.

“Didn’t think you were holding this much here,” he murmured. His thumbs pressed gently into the dip just behind your jaw. “You always carry it this high?”

You nodded too fast. “Y-Yeah. Must’ve slept weird.”

His touch softened, almost affectionate now, tracing down your neck with his thumbs before slipping away entirely. The absence of it made your breath hiccup.

You couldn’t look back at him.

Not yet.

Because now you weren’t sure if he didn’t notice…

Or if he definitely did.

You hadn’t mentioned it.

Neither had he.

Not when you stood to leave a few minutes later, not when he walked you to the door like he always did, not even when his hand lingered low on your back as you slipped on your slides.

If anything, he looked more normal than usual. Relaxed. Even smiled when you told him you’d come by tomorrow to help clean.

“Don’t forget I’m your friend, not your maid,” you said.

He gave your arm a little squeeze. “You’re both.”

And that was that.

Or so you thought.

—

The next day, his apartment looked exactly the same. A few stray cups gathered in the sink, a throw blanket half-draped off the couch, crumbs on the coffee table. You tossed your bag down and got to work wiping things down while he gathered trash from the bedroom.

“You could at least pretend to clean while I’m here,” you called out.

“I am cleaning,” he shouted back. “I just clean in peace. Unlike someone.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning.

It was easy again. Like nothing happened.

Until it wasn’t.

He emerged from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck, then padded barefoot across the room to take the rag from your hand.

“Okay,” he said. “Can we talk about something?”

You glanced at him. “What?”

He didn’t speak right away.

Instead, he took the rag, folded it neatly, and set it on the table—slow and deliberate, like he was giving you time to brace.

Then he looked at you. Really looked.

“That sound you made,” he said, voice quiet. “Yesterday. When I was rubbing your neck.”

Your stomach dropped. Not in panic. Just in… sheer mortified awareness.

You played dumb. “What sound?”

Chan tilted his head, amused.

“Don’t do that.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” you insisted, backing a step toward the kitchen, like that would save you.

He followed. One step. Two.

“You made a sound,” he said, not letting it go. “High. Like… I don’t know. Not pain. Definitely not pain.”

Your cheeks flamed. “Okay, and?”

“It just surprised me.” His voice stayed calm. Curious. “You don’t usually sound like that.”

You swallowed hard, crossing your arms in a weak attempt at a barrier. “It was nothing. You just hit a spot. I didn’t even realize I—”

“Sure,” he cut in gently. “But… I’m sure I’ve hit that spot before.”

You froze.

He smiled again, but it was slower now. Measured. A little too knowing.

Your voice came out small. “So?”

“So…” he scratched at his jaw, like he was still figuring out what he wanted to say. “I don’t know. It just sounded like… something else.”

Silence.

Heavy. Awkward. Charged.

You looked down. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Chan stepped a little closer.

You could smell him again—clean and warm, the same scent you’d been surrounded by for years. But now? It clung to your skin differently. Sunk into your pulse.

He was watching you carefully. Not pressuring. Not pushing.

Just… observing.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I believe you.”

Relief hit you, fast and fleeting.

“But if you had meant something by it,” he added, voice lower now, “you’d tell me, right?”

Your breath hitched.

He wasn’t teasing anymore.

He wasn’t joking.

You met his gaze—eyes warm, calm, steady. There wasn’t a trace of judgment in them. No expectation either. Just the softest, slightest pull of curiosity.

And something else you couldn’t name yet.

You looked away.

“Clean your damn table, Christopher.”

He smirked. “So that’s a no?”

“That’s a goodnight.”

You grabbed your bag and made a beeline for the door, pulse thudding in your throat, your skin hot all over. You could still feel the ghost of his hand there, even now. Still circling. Still squeezing.

And the worst part? You knew you’d dream about it.

The second you turned toward the door, you knew he wasn’t going to let it slide.

You felt it.

That shift in the air. The narrowing of his patience. Chan wasn’t dumb, and he wasn’t oblivious. You’d slipped out of a hundred close calls with him over the years, danced around every whisper of tension—but now?

He had a thread.

And he was pulling it.

“Wait,” he said, quiet.

You kept walking.

“Don’t be weird about it,” you muttered. “I said it was nothing.”

The words barely left your mouth before you felt his hand curling around the waistband of your sweatpants and pulling you back into him with a snap.

Your breath hitched.

Back to his chest. Spine to his hoodie. You froze, lips parting in disbelief.

“Chan—”

He grabbed your face before you could finish. One hand cupping your jaw, the other squishing your cheeks together so your lips puckered slightly, tilting your head back against him.

Your breath caught.

“Tell me,” he said, voice low—so low it brushed against your ear like a hum. “That moan. Was it your neck?”

You squirmed, heat rushing to your face, but his grip was firm. Not rough. Just insistent. Gentle like the beginning of something you weren’t ready to name yet.

“I said it was nothing,” you mumbled through his hold.

“I heard you the first time.” His hand loosened just enough for your jaw to move, but his palm didn’t leave your skin. “But that’s not what I asked.”

You turned your head slightly, but he followed the motion, chest warm against your back, his breath fanning across your temple.

“I’m not judging you,” he said softer now, almost amused. “I’m just asking… do you have a thing for this?”

His hand dropped—slow, steady—fingertips trailing from your jaw down the curve of your throat.

You stopped breathing.

His palm hovered just under your chin, thumb resting at the side of your neck, fingers spread. Barely touching. Barely grazing.

Then— He wrapped.

Not tight. Not firm. Just enough to feel his fingers circle you.

Just enough to remind you how small you were in his hand.

Everything in you went still.

Your lips parted again—useless, breathless, caught. You didn’t moan this time, but the silence said enough.

Chan’s voice dipped, teasing now. “So you do.”

You turned your face away, jaw tensed. “It’s not like that.”

His hand didn’t move.

“Then what’s it like?”

You stayed quiet, hands fisting at your sides.

“I didn’t even squeeze,” he murmured, voice velvet-slick. “And you froze like I switched you off with a button.”

“Shut up.”

He grinned. “Ohhh. So it’s like that.”

You tried to step forward, but his grip on your waistband tightened just slightly—reminding you he still had you. That he could pull again. That he would.

He leaned in, lips almost brushing your ear now.

“I’m not mad,” he said, gentle. “I’m not freaked out. I just…” his thumb grazed under your chin again, slow, sweet, deadly. “I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Chan,” you warned, but it came out too soft. Too breathy.

He let go of your jaw, finally. Stepped back a little.

His hand dropped from your neck like nothing happened.

But nothing about your body felt normal anymore.

“I’m gonna order takeout,” he said casually, walking to the kitchen. “You want the usual?”

You blinked.

Stared at him, stunned. “Are you serious?”

He glanced back with a smirk.

“Dead serious. But—if you wanna talk more about your kinks after dinner, I’m free.”

⸻

Dinner was a blur.

You barely tasted anything.

Chan ordered your usual like it was a normal night, like he hadn’t manhandled your face and wrapped his hand around your neck barely twenty minutes ago. He sat across from you at his counter, hoodie sleeves shoved to the elbows, digging into pizza while casually talking about Genshin.

You blinked at your own bowl, lips still tingling, mind running marathons.

He’d touched you a thousand times before—your waist, your thigh, your cheek, your lower back—but not like that.

Not with intent.

Not while calling you out about your kinks like he was just checking the weather.

You poked at your own noodles.

“So we’re not gonna talk about it?” you asked.

Chan looked up, chewing, one brow lifted.

“Talk about what?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t play dumb.”

A beat of silence.

Then the softest smirk curled on his lips. “Thought you didn’t wanna talk about it.”

You stared at him.

Something low and hot coiled in your stomach. That smug little tone he always used on you when he knew he’d won—when he baited you into spilling, or laughing, or saying something you didn’t mean to say.

And suddenly?

You’d had enough. You dropped your fork. Sat back in your chair.

“Fine,” you said, eyes locked on his. “You wanna talk kinks? Let’s talk.”

The smile slipped from his face, slow and sharp—like something in him clicked.

“…Now?”

You crossed your arms, chin high. “You started it.”

Chan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Let’s go.”

His voice was low again. Not teasing this time. Steady. Intrigued. Like you’d just pulled a loaded weapon on the table and told him to pick a side.

You swallowed. “We’ve never talked about this before.”

“I know.”

“We said we wouldn’t.”

“I remember.”

“So why now?”

Chan shrugged. “Because you moaned like someone touched your soul when I only grazed your neck and then tried to lie about it. And now I’m curious.”

You flushed.

“Curious about what?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You.”

A silence stretched between you—hot, tight, heavy.

You laughed once, hollow. “God. This is so fucking weird.”

Chan tilted his head. “Is it?”

“Yes!” you threw your hands up. “You’re my best friend.”

“I’m still your best friend.”

“And we don’t talk about sex.”

“We do now.”

Your breath caught.

His eyes were too dark. Too steady. There was no out here.

You inhaled slowly. “Fine. What do you wanna know?”

Chan sat back again, folding his arms. “What else does it for you?”

You blinked. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Dead serious.”

You hesitated.

Then—like the words tasted like sin—you said quietly, “Hands.”

A pause.

Chan’s lips twitched. “Yeah. I figured.”

“Big ones,” you added without thinking. “Veiny. Rough. Confident.”

His eyes gleamed. “That why you always let me manhandle you like a ragdoll?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m just observing,” he said. “What else?”

You gave him a flat look. “What, you taking notes now?”

He leaned in again, elbows on the table, voice dark velvet. “I will if you keep talking like that.”

Your thighs pressed together under the table.

You looked away. “You go. Say something.”

He was quiet for a second.

Then—casually—“I like brats.”

You choked.

“Excuse me?”

Chan grinned. “Smart mouths. Girls who push back. Who pretend they don’t wanna listen but fold the second I—”

“Okay!” you raised a hand. “That’s enough, Freud.”

He laughed, head tipping back.

But the tension didn’t ease.

If anything—it twisted tighter.

You bit your lip. “So like… choking. Is that weird?”

He blinked. “Is what weird? Wanting it done to you? Or doing it to someone?”

You paused. “…Both?”

Chan tilted his head, thoughtful. “Not weird. But it’s intense.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Another silence.

He watched you. “You like intense?”

You looked up.

His eyes were too sharp again. Too serious.

You whispered, “Yeah.”

He stood.

You froze as he walked around the counter, bare feet soundless against the tile. He stopped in front of you, hand sliding onto your jaw—soft, slow—and tilted your face up again.

Your breath caught.

“You could’ve told me,” he said, voice low. “Any of this.”

“I thought you didn’t wanna hear it.”

His grip firmed just slightly—thumb brushing your cheek, the edge of your lip.

“I didn’t,” he said. “Until you moaned like that.”

His hand dipped.

Neck again.

Only this time, his fingers wrapped tight—not choking, but claiming. Measuring. Knowing.

And this time?

You didn’t pretend.

You looked him dead in the eye as your lips parted on a breathy, involuntary gasp.

“Yeah,” Chan whispered, smiling now. “That one.”

You should’ve walked away.

Should’ve laughed it off, said something dumb and deflective, gone home and buried yourself in blankets until the heat left your skin.

But you didn’t.

You sat there—his hand on your neck, your thighs clenched under the counter, breath caught somewhere in your throat—and you let him.

Chan was quiet. His eyes searched yours, slow and steady, like he was reading pages of you you didn’t even know were open.

His fingers flexed slightly around your neck. A light squeeze.

Not rough.

Just enough to say, I’m still here. You feel me, right?

And God… you did.

“You’re really into this,” he murmured.

You looked away, cheeks warm. “It’s not like I think about it all the time.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

He hummed.

Then leaned closer.

“But you’ve imagined it.”

You stiffened.

He chuckled lowly, and you felt it through his palm, the softest vibration echoing down your spine. “That’s not a no.”

You turned your head, just slightly, and muttered, “You’re annoying.”

He pulled back.

Only to hook his fingers under your jaw again, tilting your chin up like you weighed nothing in his grip. “There she is,” he said, smiling like you’d done something delicious.

“What?”

“That mouth,” he said, tapping your lip once with his thumb. “That bratty tone.”

“I wasn’t being bratty.”

“Mhm,” he smirked, stepping back. “Sure you weren’t.”

He let go.

The loss of contact was immediate—jarring.

Your neck felt cold without his hand on it.

Chan crossed to the couch and collapsed into it, legs spread, arms stretched along the backrest. Like nothing had just happened. Like your whole reality hadn’t just tipped sideways.

You turned slowly. “What the hell was that?”

“What?”

You gestured vaguely at the space between you. “That.”

Chan shrugged. “Just testing a theory.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What theory?”

“That I’ve been missing out.”

You blinked. “Missing out on what?”

He grinned, head resting lazily against the cushion. “This side of you.”

Your heart thumped.

“There’s no side,” you lied quickly. “That was— That’s just how I talk to you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious.”

He cocked his head. “So you’d moan like that if Seungmin gave you a massage?”

You glared. “Seungmin gives serial killer energy.”

“Then what about Hyunjin?”

“Hyunjin cries at perfume ads. I’d never let him near my neck.”

Chan laughed.

You didn’t.

“I’m not teasing you,” he said after a moment. “I just… I don’t know. Feels like we’re finally being real.”

You chewed your bottom lip. “It’s not like I was hiding anything on purpose.”

“I know.”

“I just thought it’d be… weird.”

Chan leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. “It’s not weird.”

“You’re not freaked out?”

“Nope.”

You hesitated. “So what now?”

He smiled, that slow, cocky, dangerous smile. “Now I get to learn things.”

Your stomach flipped.

“You’re making it sound creepy,” you muttered.

He stood up again. Walked toward you, deliberate this time.

And when he stopped in front of you again, it felt different.

He wasn’t teasing now. He was… curious. Focused. Like you were a puzzle he’d just realized had more pieces.

His hand came up again—back to your neck—but this time, he didn’t wrap it.

He traced.

Knuckles down your throat. Fingertips skimming your collarbone.

You held perfectly still.

“So sensitive here,” he murmured. “And you never said a word.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“It matters now.”

You swallowed. “Why?”

He leaned in. Close. His breath brushed your lips.

“Because now I’m gonna find out what else does it for you.”

Your legs weakened.

Chan reached behind you and gently pushed you back into the nearest couch, standing over you now, looking down like you were a question he wanted to spend the night answering.

He tilted his head. “You like being told what to do?”

You blinked, heart hammering. “Why?”

“Just wondering how deep the brat thing goes.”

“It’s not a brat thing,” you snapped.

That smile again. Sharp. Addictive.

“There she is.”

“Ugh,” you scoffed, sinking back.

“C’mon,” he said softly. “Give me something else. I’ll tell you one of mine.”

You looked at him, wary. “Promise?”

“Swear.”

You exhaled slowly. “I like being touched… slowly. Like… teased. Not rushed.”

Chan’s eyes darkened.

“Oh,” he said. “We’re gonna have fun.”

You blinked. “Your turn.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you. Rested his hands on your knees, just above them.

Then leaned forward and said—

“I like control. But only when someone wants to give it up.”

You froze.

“Like… the second you say stop, I’m out,” he added. “But if you give me the green light…” His thumbs stroked slow, slow circles over your legs. “I’ll ruin you sweet.”

Your breath hitched.

“Too much?” he asked, smiling.

You didn’t answer.

Because truthfully?

You didn’t know if it was.

You weren’t sure what had shifted.

The air, maybe.

Or the weight of his eyes when he looked at you like that—like you were becoming something right in front of him.

But Chan didn’t back down.

He stayed where he was, hands resting on your knees, thumbs rubbing slow, distracted strokes into your skin like his mind was already a step ahead.

“I’ve never really talked to anyone about this stuff,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “Not like this.”

You swallowed. “Me neither.”

“I didn’t think I needed to. Thought I had it figured out.”

“And now?”

His eyes met yours again, and there was something deeper in them now. Darker.

“Now I think I’ve been fucking around in the shallow end.”

You stiffened, legs tensing under his grip.

He felt it.

His thumbs stilled.

“That bother you?” he asked softly.

You shook your head before you could stop yourself.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing like he’d found a loose thread in you. “Then why are your thighs clenched?”

“I don’t know,” you breathed.

“Hmm.”

He moved his hands slightly up your legs, just a few inches, nothing dramatic. But his gaze stayed pinned to yours the whole time.

“Do you like when I talk like that?”

You hesitated.

Chan leaned in, whispering, “Tell the truth.”

Your lips parted, no sound coming out.

He grinned, barely. “Thought so.”

You flushed.

He sat back on his heels, exhaling a little laugh like this whole thing was amusing—and fascinating—and fucking exhilarating.

“I think I like this side of you,” he murmured.

“What side?”

He brought his hand up again, knuckles brushing your neck, then trailing down your collarbone. “The one that can’t sit still when I do this.”

You shivered.

He smiled. “You get quiet when you want something.”

“I’m not quiet.”

“Mm. You’re quieter than usual.”

He leaned in again.

Not touching this time—just watching you breathe.

“You always give this much control without realizing it?”

Your mouth went dry.

“I’m not—” you started.

But he shook his head.

“No, don’t answer. I like watching you try.”

Your stomach dropped straight through the floor.

You were wet.

God, you were already so fucking wet, and he hadn’t even touched you where it mattered. Not once.

He moved one knee forward, bracing his arm on the cushion beside your hips. The shift brought him closer. Too close.

And that’s when you felt it.

Hard. Heavy.

Brushing your inner thigh.

Your breath stilled.

Chan didn’t move.

His lips quirked—just barely.

And that’s when you knew.

He felt it too.

Still, he played innocent.

“Something wrong?”

Your eyes flicked to his, wide. “Are you—?”

“I am,” he said calmly. “You surprised?”

You blinked.

“No.”

“Because you’re hot?”

You exhaled slowly. “Because you’re different.”

That made him pause.

“How?”

“You’ve never… acted like this.”

He hummed, low in his chest. “You’ve never let me.”

You stuttered. “I— I didn’t stop you—”

“No,” he agreed, nodding once. “But you didn’t give me an invitation either.”

You looked down, eyes on the space between your bodies, his arousal pressed right up against you like a secret you weren’t supposed to notice.

And still, you didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t say a word.

His voice softened. “So now that we’re here… wanna know another thing I’ve never told anyone?”

You nodded without thinking.

Chan’s fingers skimmed your hip, slow and deliberate. “I like watching people fall apart.”

Your lips parted, breath catching.

“But not in a mean way,” he added. “I like the process. The way your body learns to trust me before your brain catches up. I like how shaky your breath gets when I press on the right spot. How your legs tense when you’re trying not to give in.”

He smirked, voice dipping lower.

“I like hearing that little gasp you just made. And I really like how your thighs are squeezing together again.”

You gasped again, this time audible.

He was rock hard now. You could feel him throb slightly against you. A steady pulse through his sweatpants.

And then—God help you—he moved just a little.

A subtle, deliberate shift of his hips.

Just enough to feel how warm you were.

How ready.

Your jaw clenched.

Chan’s eyes flicked down to your mouth.

And that was his breaking point.

Because suddenly his hand was back—on your neck.

Not squeezing. Not dominating.

Feeling.

Like he was trying to understand how something so small could make him so desperate.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” he murmured, half-lost in it.

You swallowed. “Then show me.”

His eyes snapped back to yours.

Dark.

Ravenous.

But he didn’t kiss you.

Didn’t push further.

Instead, he leaned in—nose brushing yours—and whispered, “Not yet.”

That’s what he said—low, husky, brushing your lips like a secret.

But then his head dipped lower.

And you felt it—his mouth at your cheek first, warm and lingering, then sliding lower still until his lips brushed your jawline… his teeth barely grazing your skin.

You jolted.

He smiled against you.

“Still holding it together?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

And then he bit you.

Soft. Right on your cheekbone. Just enough pressure to make you gasp—nothing overwhelming, but so intimate, so damn suggestive, it felt like your body cracked open around it.

A moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

High. Desperate.

Sinful.

“Fuck…” you breathed, under your breath.

But he heard it.

God, he heard everything.

His mouth dragged to your ear—barely brushing it—before his tongue flicked once at the shell of it and he whispered, “Say that again.”

Your head tipped back into the couch, fingers digging into the cushion beside you.

He watched you fall apart, kneeling between your knees like you were some holy thing unraveling at his mercy.

And then, without even thinking, it slipped out.

“…Chan.”

His name, like a prayer.

Choked. Shaken.

Raw.

He stilled.

Completely.

You opened your eyes slowly, vision slightly hazy, only to find him staring back at you—eyes wide, chest rising visibly beneath his hoodie.

“Shit,” he muttered, like it hit him all at once.

Like he just realized the weight of what was actually happening.

You blinked, cheeks burning. “What?”

He shook his head once. “Say it again.”

“What?”

“My name.”

You bit your lip, too overwhelmed to even fake control.

And that was it.

That broke him.

Chan’s hands flew to your hips, dragging you down the couch cushion just enough for him to lean over you completely. His mouth caught yours in a kiss so devastatingly hot you forgot your own name.

Teeth clashing. Breath mixing.

Tongues tangling like they’d been waiting years for this.

Your fingers curled into his hoodie, desperate for something to hold onto as he kissed you like a man starving—like he was angry you’d kept this from him, angry you made him wait.

And the way you moaned into his mouth? The soft gasp you let out when his hand slipped beneath your shirt and splayed wide over your waist?

It shattered him.

Chan groaned against your lips, grinding into you once—slow but solid—and the friction was unbearable.

You whimpered, breath hitching, thighs tensing around his hips.

“Jesus, babe,” he growled into your neck, voice cracking with restraint. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

But you did.

You knew now.

And worse? You loved it.

You tilted your head without thinking, exposing your throat like instinct, and the second his lips found the base of it, the moan you let out was filthy.

Loud. Guttural.

You felt him throb against your core through both your clothes.

And he didn’t even try to hide it.

His hand found your neck again—cradling, not choking. Not yet.

Just holding.

Possessive. Protective. Like it belonged to him.

“You were gonna hide this from me?” he whispered roughly against your skin. “This part of you?”

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back.

Chan laughed. Dark. Breathless.

“Not anymore.”

That was the last thing he said before everything blurred.

Your best friend had kissed you before—on your forehead, your cheek, once at midnight on New Year’s when he was tipsy and too sentimental—but this was different.

This wasn’t affection.

This was possession.

He kissed like he’d earned it—like every time he let you sleep in his bed, every time he pulled you into his chest when you were crying, every time he called you baby under his breath without thinking… was just a slow burn countdown to this moment.

His lips moved against yours like he already knew your rhythm. Like he’d been dreaming of it and now he was tasting it for real.

And when you moaned again? He growled into your mouth.

His hands were wild now, frantic. Pulling at the hem of your shirt, tugging you closer by the hips until you were slotted right against him, heat to heat.

You could feel how hard he was.

And when he shifted his weight and pressed into you deliberately, you gasped—high-pitched and startled.

He tore his lips from yours just long enough to pant, “Fuck. You’re driving me insane.”

“Then do something about it,” you whispered, already breathless.

His eyes flashed.

“Say less.”

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants so fast it made your breath catch—and when his fingers reached your panties, he froze.

Because you were soaked.

Dripping.

His fingers brushed along the fabric—slick and clinging—and then he dragged them lower, curling them against the wet heat right between your legs.

You gasped. Shuddered.

Chan’s head dropped to your shoulder, lips at your ear, groaning deep in his throat. “You’re fucking soaked.”

You whimpered.

His fingers stroked once—just enough to tease—before he yanked your sweatpants down in one go, panties and all.

You squeaked, legs instinctively clamping together, but he was already on his knees again, big hands sliding under your thighs and pulling them apart with a groan.

“Let me see,” he rasped. “Come on, babe, show me how bad you need me.”

You swallowed, chest heaving.

You had never seen him like this—never even imagined him like this.

Hair messy, lips red, hoodie halfway off his shoulder as he pushed himself between your legs like a man starving.

And it wasn’t until he looked up—until those dark, wrecked eyes dragged slowly up your body and met yours—that you realized:

You were gone.

Undone. Open.

And he loved it.

His fingers returned, sliding into your folds with maddening slowness.

You cried out, knees trembling.

He sucked in a breath, watching his hand work between your legs like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling.

“Dripping,” he whispered, almost reverent. “All this for me?”

You bit your lip. “Don’t be cocky.”

He smirked.

And then he curled two fingers inside you in one smooth thrust.

You screamed.

Your hand shot out, grabbing at his wrist, your thighs threatening to close—but he was too strong.

He pressed one hand firmly on your stomach, keeping you grounded while his fingers moved—slow, then fast, then deeper.

“Not cocky,” he panted. “Just maybe obsessed.”

You cried out again, body arching, trying to grind into his palm. Every nerve ending in your body was on fire—and he was eating it up.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned. “Melting for me. You gonna come already?”

You shook your head, biting your fist.

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t hold back now, baby. We’ve got years to make up for.”

You moaned louder—desperate.

And then he stopped.

Just like that.

Fingers sliding out, breath ragged.

You blinked at him in shock, your whole body pulsing.

“What—?”

He wiped his fingers on the hem of his hoodie like it was nothing, then leaned forward and whispered against your mouth, “I’m not letting you come with my hand. Not the first time.”

You whimpered, a broken, trembling sound.

He kissed you again, rougher this time.

And then his hands were on his hoodie, yanking it off in one smooth motion, chest glistening with sweat, body hard and flexed as he stood to kick off his sweatpants.

You stared.

You’d seen him shirtless. You’d seen him in boxers during sleepovers. But this?

This was feral.

Ripped, flushed, bulging under tension—and fully hard now, cock bobbing as he leaned back over you, eyes wild with want.

“You ready?” he asked, voice wrecked.

You couldn’t even speak.

Just nodded.

Because the fire had already started, and now?

You wanted to burn.

You were breathless beneath him—bare, dizzy, skin hot and tingling in all the right places. And when he hovered over you now, sweat-slick and wild-eyed, your best friend didn’t look like your best friend anymore.

He looked like a man unraveling. One second away from ruin. Yours.

His hand slid behind your knee, lifting your leg over his hip. “You good?”

You nodded again, swallowing hard.

He smirked, gaze dropping to your lips.

“You sure?” he asked, dragging the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds—slow, teasing, maddening. “You look like you’re in trouble already.”

And something in you—something playful and wicked—snapped.

“Guess we’ll see if you can handle it.”

Chan paused.

Your voice—usually warm, teasing, light—was lower now. Challenging.

Bratty.

His brows lifted. “Oh?”

You shrugged, purposefully lazy beneath him, your leg tightening around his waist. “I mean… you talk a big game, but—” you made a little face, “—you’ve never even kissing me before today.”

Chan blinked slowly.

Then laughed once—dangerous and deep in his chest—before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head in one swift movement.

“You’re cute when you’re mouthy.”

You gasped, startled, but didn’t stop.

“I’m just saying,” you said sweetly, shifting under him, deliberately dragging your slick heat along his length. “You’ve waited ten years for this. Hope you’re not rusty.”

He stared down at you like you were made of sin and gasoline.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, lowering his face to yours, lips brushing your cheek. “You want me to wreck you, don’t you?”

You smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

And that was it.

That was all it took.

He snapped.

His hand came down, wrapping tight around your throat and the next thing you felt was the blunt push of his cock stretching you open in one slow, greedy slide.

You cried out, head falling back, legs trembling from the stretch.

“Fuck—”

“That shut you up quick,” he growled, watching your face as he bottomed out.

You whimpered, fully filled now, completely caged beneath him, and for a moment all you could do was breathe.

You weren’t used to this—this intensity. This power shift.

You weren’t used to being his.

Chan didn’t move right away. He stayed there—deep inside you, hand on your throat, his other still pinning your wrists—just watching.

Then his voice dropped to a whisper. “Say my name.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering. “…Chan.”

He pulled out halfway.

“Say it right.”

“Chan—ah, fuck—Chan,” you gasped, back arching.

He snapped his hips forward—hard—and your moan broke into a scream.

“You’re soaked,” he panted. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

“I didn’t know—” you whimpered, completely undone, “—you’d be like this.”

He smiled against your throat, kissed it once, then bit down lightly on your jaw. “This is what you do to me.”

And when you clenched around him at those words?

He lost it.

His grip tightened—your wrists, your throat, your hips—and he started moving, every thrust thick and deep, sharp enough to send your thoughts scattering into stars.

“Still wanna be a brat?” he growled, pulling out only to slam back in harder.

You whimpered, breath catching. “Yes.”

He chuckled darkly. “Wrong answer.”

He dragged your hands down, pinning them to your chest now as he fucked into you, his entire body a weapon. Every thrust hit somewhere new—some place that made you cry out, curse, beg without knowing you were doing it.

“Look at you,” he said, voice wrecked. “You gonna be good now?”

Your pride screamed no.

But your body—your soaked, trembling, wrecked body—sobbed yes.

You swallowed hard, hips twitching, and whispered up at him with all the strength you had left:

“Make me.”

Chan’s eyes blazed.

“Oh, baby,” he growled, snapping his hips forward again. “I’m gonna make you beg.”

And from the way your legs shook?

You knew he already was.

You didn’t remember when your moans got louder than the thoughts in your head.

Didn’t remember when you stopped trying to talk back and started crying his name like a plea.

But your body remembered. Every inch of it was tuned to his touch now—sweaty, sticky, soaked, and strung out beneath the weight of your best friend losing his damn mind inside you.

He hadn’t stopped moving.

And he hadn’t stopped talking.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he groaned against your skin, hips snapping forward. “Been dreaming about this—about you—for years. You were right in front of me—walking around like that, giving me attitude, pushing my buttons.”

You gasped, fingers dragging down his back. “I wasn’t trying—”

“Bullshit,” he growled, pulling out just enough to thrust back in hard, rocking your entire body against the couch. “You knew what you were doing. You knew I’d snap.”

You choked on a scream, grabbing at his shoulder for balance.

And then, with a glint in his eye, he lifted one of your legs onto the couch arm and pressed forward—deep and low.

You damn near sobbed.

“Fuck, this angle—” he hissed through clenched teeth, “—you’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

You shivered, mouth open, unable to answer—until a familiar bratty smirk broke onto your lips.

“Still think you’re in control?” you managed, breathless.

Chan stopped moving.

Dead still.

And grinned.

“Oh, baby girl.”

And just like that, he yanked out of you, flipped your body, and shoved your front down into the couch cushions.

His hand was already on your back, pressing you down as he lined up again—and when he slid back in with one long, filthy thrust, your scream was muffled in the fabric.

“Who’s in control now?” he grunted, pounding into you from behind, one hand on your hip, the other wrapped around your neck again—pulling you back, making your spine curve deliciously.

You tried to fight it—tried to sass, to squirm—but every stroke hit your g-spot like he’d mapped your body in his dreams.

And when he growled “look at that arch,” you whimpered.

“I can feel you clenching, baby. You gonna come already?”

You hissed, bratty again through your cries. “You wish—”

So he pulled out, flipped you again.

“Keep testing me,” he breathed, dragging you into his lap, guiding you down onto him so slowly it made your eyes roll back.

He didn’t move.

Just held your hips steady, eyes locked on your face.

“You think you’re the one riding me?” he whispered, almost tender—until his fingers dug into your skin and he thrust up hard.

You screamed, forehead dropping onto his shoulder.

“Oh no, baby. You just get to watch this time.”

He started bouncing you on his cock, fucking up into you, his grip rough, his rhythm feral.

“You gonna be good yet?” he panted, breath hot on your cheek. “Or should I fuck the brat out of you?”

You couldn’t speak. You could barely breathe.

But you nodded.

You were gone.

Gone for him.

He kissed your shoulder, then bit it.

And then?

He moved you again.

He was everywhere—his weight, his mouth, his cock so deep you felt like you’d split in half.

Your cries were high and broken now, your hands slipping against his sweat-slick back as he pounded you into the cushions with intent.

And then his hand went right back to your neck—holding, lifting, claiming you while he fucked the soul out of your body.

“You’re mine,” he panted, hips relentless. “Say it.”

You moaned, arching up into him. “Yours—yours, fuck—Chan—”

He dropped his forehead to yours, eyes wrecked, heart thundering.

“Come for me.”

And this time?

You did.

With a scream that could’ve broken glass.

Your body snapped, back bowing, thighs clenching around him, tears streaking your cheeks as the pleasure tore through you.

Chan didn’t stop.

He groaned, deep and desperate, as your walls clenched and fluttered around him—and then he stilled, cock buried to the hilt, trembling against you.

“Fucking—shit—”

You felt him pulse deep inside you, hot and thick.

And when he finally collapsed on top of you—panting, wrecked, his face buried in your neck—you couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that left you.

“…That’s one way to discuss kinks.”

Chan huffed against your cheek.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, kissing your jaw sweetly. “You’ve got no idea how bad it’s about to get.”

—-

Your body was buzzing—tender, used, and so completely ruined that you barely noticed when Chan lifted you off the couch like you weighed nothing.

You whimpered at the movement, tucking your face into his neck as he carried you down the hall, both of you still catching your breath.

Neither of you spoke. There was only the soft pat of his feet against the tile, your fluttering heartbeat in your ears, and the low, satisfied hum he made when you clung tighter to his shoulders.

The bathroom light flickered on. Warm. Clean. Familiar.

He didn’t hesitate. Just toed off the last piece of fabric on his body and stepped under the stream with you still in his arms.

The hot water hit your back and you gasped at the contrast—already sensitive, skin electric under every drop.

Chan’s big hands slid over you, soothing, slow. He lathered up a washcloth and began running it gently over your shoulders, your thighs, between your legs with such focus you had to fight the urge to melt all over again.

“You okay?” he asked, quiet against your ear, lips brushing your temple.

You nodded. “…Think you broke me.”

He chuckled, chest rumbling against yours. “Not even close.”

But still, his touch was careful now. Reverent. Like he couldn’t believe you were real.

And maybe that’s why you did it.

Why you let your hands roam a little more than they needed to.

Why you leaned in and started trailing soft kisses down his collarbone.

Why your lips didn’t stop there.

Because you couldn’t believe he was real either.

Not like this. Not yours.

He stilled when your mouth reached his chest.

You kissed it slowly, tenderly, running your fingers down his abs, over the ridges of muscle that flexed beneath your touch.

“…Babe,” he whispered, voice low, warning, already unraveling. “Don’t start.”

You looked up at him through wet lashes, lips parted, innocent and knowing all at once.

“Why not?” you murmured, kissing just below his ribs. “You let me fall apart for you. Let me return the favor.”

His breath hitched. He was already hardening again—and he knew it.

You kissed lower.

And lower.

And then you were kneeling—naked, dripping, your knees cushioned by the shower mat, hands already stroking his length back to full, pulsing attention.

He groaned.

“Fuck. Fuck, you look so good down there—”

You wrapped your fingers around his cock, squeezing gently, lips brushing against the flushed head of his cock. He jerked in your hand, and you hummed.

“I never told you my last kink,” you said sweetly, licking a slow stripe along the underside.

His hand hit the wall above your head, unsteady. “Yeah? What is it, baby?”

You smiled up at him—dark, sinful, soft.

“I don’t have a gag reflex.”

Chan let out a noise—guttural, choked, wrecked.

“Jesus Christ.”

And then you took him in.

All of him.

Slow. Deep. Deliberate.

His mouth fell open, eyes rolling back as you swallowed around him, your throat relaxing on instinct.

“Oh my fucking God—” he rasped, hips jerking forward before he caught himself, panting hard, water cascading down his back.

You pulled off with a wet pop, licking the tip before dragging your tongue along the base and sucking him back in just as deep.

He moaned—loud, shameless, one hand grabbing the back of your head while the other gripped the shower wall like a lifeline.

“Fuck, fuck, baby— you’re gonna kill me—”

You moaned around him in response, eyes half-lidded, hands stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach.

Every sound he made went straight to your core—deep and breathy and so needy, it felt like a reward just to listen.

“You’re unreal,” he groaned. “Fucking unreal—how is this even real—”

You let your eyes flutter closed, increasing the rhythm, hollowing your cheeks, spit and water dripping from your chin as you let him fall apart above you.

And when his stomach clenched—when his thighs started to tremble—you just held him tighter, took him deeper, and moaned his name from the back of your throat.

“Fuck— I’m gonna come—baby, I’m gonna—shit—don’t stop—”

You didn’t.

Not until his hips jerked one final time and you tasted all of him—thick and hot and desperate on your tongue.

He roared your name, damn near sliding down the wall as his whole body seized, then shook.

When he finally opened his eyes again, you were smiling, swallowing, licking your lips like you’d just won.

Chan stared.

Then laughed—ragged, disbelieving, utterly in awe.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he panted, hauling you up into his arms again. “Mark my words.”

You kissed his jaw, cheeky. “Then what a way to go.”

He groaned, forehead against yours.

“We’re not sleeping tonight.”

And you knew he meant it.

—

The water was still warm when Chan reached for a towel and wrapped it around your body, gathering you into him like you were something precious. Like you might disappear if he blinked.

You were trembling a little—not from cold, but from the comedown. The wild pace of everything. The stretch, the heat, the orgasm that had left your legs like jelly. The way he’d held your gaze while wrecking you on the couch like you weren’t his best friend—like you were already his everything.

Now? Now he was silent. Gentle.

A hand on the back of your head, stroking slowly.

“You okay?” he asked, voice raw and deep, brushing his lips to your temple.

You nodded into his chest. “Mhm. Just… processing.”

He smiled faintly, lifting you into his arms again—still naked, still wet—and carried you to his room without another word. The towel stayed wrapped around you, his hands never letting go, like it physically pained him to stop touching you.

He laid you on his bed with careful hands, kissed your forehead, then disappeared for a moment—returning with your hoodie, a fresh pair of his boxers, a warm water bottle, and a glass of juice.

You stared at him, body curling toward his naturally as you laid there—wrapped in soft cotton, legs still aching in the best way. “So… this really happened.”

Chan tilted his head, gaze steady. “Are you regretting it?”

“No,” you whispered, too fast. Then, “Are you?”

His brow furrowed like you’d offended him. “Baby. I’d do it all over again right now if you weren’t already shaky.”

You flushed, heat blooming up your neck. He noticed it. Of course he did. His thumb brushed the side of your throat, reverent.

“Still can’t believe that’s your kink,” he murmured, soft and possessive and wrecked. “You have any idea what that did to me?”

You licked your lips, looking away. “…There’s more.”

Chan’s eyes darkened. “Oh, you’re gonna tell me.”

You tried to hide your smile. “We never talked about sex in ten years and now you wanna hear all my kinks?”

“Now I need to,” he replied, curling his hand behind your neck and pulling you closer again. “You let me touch you like that. Let me own you. You think I can go back to pretending you’re just my best friend after that?”

His mouth was so close. His fingers were back to stroking your skin, down your back, over the dip of your waist.

Your voice came out quieter now. “I’ve never given up control that easily.”

“I know.” He cupped your jaw, kissed the corner of your mouth. “And I’ll never take that for granted.”

You met his eyes. “But I’d do it again.”

His breath stuttered. And then he kissed you—soft this time, lingering.

“You have no idea how hard I’m holding back right now.”

“I can tell,” you whispered, glancing down at the way his towel was starting to shift.

He growled against your skin, pressing his forehead to yours. “This changes everything.”

You nodded slowly. “But it doesn’t ruin anything.”

“No,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “It just means we’ve got… ten years to make up for. And I plan to.”

You smiled. “So… you’re mine now?”

Chan pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you.

“No, baby,” he said with a dangerous smirk. “You’re mine. And I don’t share.”

Your stomach fluttered. You pushed at his chest, bratty. “Mm. You weren’t this cocky when we were just friends.”

He climbed over you again, straddling you on the bed with that wolfish glint in his eye.

“You never let me touch you like this before. Now I know what you sound like when you moan my name?”

He leaned down, voice dark, hungry.

“You have no idea how cocky I’m about to get.”

And just like that, you knew.

You’d opened Pandora’s box.

And Chan had no plans to close it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: AAAAAHHHHHHH!!! God this was sooo juicy to write!!!! I am so sorry for my absence guys, theres been so much on my plate… I’ve actually started an original book that i plan to publish some time in the future. 🤭 But I’m here now and ill post more frequently. As for all the requests? I SEE EVERYTHING, I WILL WORK ON THEM!! Just hold on for me babes!

Anyway, if you enjoyed this one, leave me a comment, like and reblog guys!! My taglist is open so let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8 @sunflwerstar @shxdowofdarkness

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kooktrash · 1 year ago

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TEMPEST ☆ jeon jungkook

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

☆ genre/au: obsessed!jungkook x college student!y/n [afab, she/her]

☆ 31k words [😭]

warnings: soft yandere. smut. jk is a little delulu. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. underground streetfighter by night, gym owner by day. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—hes aggressive but he hides it. calvin klein jk. spoiler: he slutshames oc’s bff but she’s snakey. depictions of violence [streetfighter, aggressive, he beats a man with a brick deadass, and physically assaults someone]. He’s not a good guy. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough sëx. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. missionary. riding. needy and clingy jk. possessive jk. jk is good at pretending. jk has familial problems. severe abandonment issues. unprotected smüt but also only for one round [they go for two]. oc is aware of his red flags but does oc care?

tempest by deftones

There was something about someone seeming unattainable that always seemed to draw him in the most. It’s almost like he enjoyed making things harder for himself, like he wanted to make a game of it. Of course it wasn’t a good thing for him to do this especially not when it was at the expense of another person’s emotions but he couldn’t help it. When someone as beautiful and bright as the person across the bar from him catches his attention, how was he not supposed to want them for himself?

You didn’t look shy, maybe just quiet, or mysterious would suit you better. There was a sense of wariness around you that he could spot from a mile away with the gaze you used to eye the crowded bar. Everyone here looked more rugged, a mix of band tees, leather jackets, motorcycle boots and smoke clouding the air. Even the women around were more fit for a place like this with their deep shades of red lipsticks, low-cut tops and tight jeans whereas you seemed to illuminate in a different light.

“When you said you wanted to get a few drinks, this isn’t what I thought you meant,” you said with distaste as you spotted a reddish-brown stain on the cement flooring of the bar looking eerily similar to washed up blood. It made your fingers tighten around your small handbag and the pink pepper spray you had inside it. You pressed your legs more firmly together, deeply regretting the satin miniskirt you wore and how little it covered you from behind. In your defense, you thought you would be going to a relaxing lounge bar with expensive champagne and servers dressed in suit and tie… not some run-down bar on the wrong side of the tracks.

“It isn’t? I could’ve sworn I specified,” your best friend lied with a grin as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the bar, “And it’s fine, we’re meeting some guys here tonight and you’ll start feeling comfortable soon. Just don’t look so prissy, Y/n, you might get robbed.”

“Or worse than that,” you mumbled to yourself as she leaned over the counter without a care of how her tight dress raised from the back and smiled flirtatiously at the bartender. You circled your arms around yourself in an attempt to appear smaller and more closed off—also hoping to hide the exposed parts of your torso. While she did most of the talking, you took in more of the area with a faint scrunch of your nose, clearly displeased by it all.

It was somewhat small, beer posters and neon signs on the wall. The bar was a long strip filled with scary men with tattoos all looking at you and your friend. There were a few tables here and there, dart boards on one side and a couple pool tables scattered around too. It was technically a one-story building aside from the lofted area that only seemed big enough for another pool table or two and a line of slot machines. The lighting was dim but not dark and maybe that’s what made it so easy for you to notice the eye contact you made with someone else.

He was… intense. He had the structure of someone you would find attractive but the look in his eyes nearly drew you away with just that. It was hard to pull away from it and it made your heart race. It wasn’t the look you gave someone on accident, it was purposeful and long, one that demanded to be noticed. He held a pool cue in his hands and was with a group of men you could barely make out but there was no denying he was more focused on you than whatever happened around him.

“You made it!” A voice cut into the blur of noise that you had tuned out, and suddenly your attention was taken away from the stranger. You looked at the two guys in front of you, brows scrunched with confusion as you studied them. They couldn’t have been more opposite from the man you just looked at with their pastel colored button-ups that screamed of years spent in a Fraternity. Still, not the type who would come to a place like this.

“Sorry we’re late, I take full blame since I forgot my wallet and had to drive back for it but I’m here now and I’m hoping I haven’t missed anything,” one of them said to your friend, as he pulled her into a hug and his hand slid down to her waist. Sieun smiled, “No worries, we haven’t been here long anyway.”

She turned to you with her hand pinned to his toned chest and pressed to his side, “Y/n, this is Rowoon.”

“Hey,” the guy said with a cocky nod of his head before looking at his friend, “That’s Jisoo, he’s a good buddy of mine.”

You raised an impressed brow but looked at his friend who seemed to have a quieter, more toned down nature that made you feel a fraction less uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t care to be here either.

A familiar whooshing sound followed the movement of his pool cue as he aimed for a solid green number six and watched the ball sink into one of the holes. He couldn’t help but smile knowing how close he was to winning and only two more to go. With careful calculation to how he could make it in, he rounded the table looking for the best angle.

Facing the same direction as another earlier occurrence, he looked up for a second, searching the crowd below him with a quick sweep. The light he had found earlier was dimly lit behind a pair of lean shoulders that had his eyes narrowing. The guy’s back was to him and he towered over you obnoxiously that he could barely make you out. You weren’t at the bar anymore, now you were tucked away at some far table, smiling at whoever you talked to and he quickly did the math. Your friend and you had suddenly become four, two noticeable pairings that had him wondering if the pretty girl from earlier was taken. If so, how does he go about that obstacle? Does he still take his chances for a little bit of fun?

“Hurry it up man, I’m gonna piss myself already,” his friend, Hoseok, nearly cried as he shook his leg, tightening his grip on his pool cue. Jungkook didn’t say anything as he looked at you one more time, eying suspiciously at the sight of your smile disappearing and an awkward glance toward your friend replacing it.

He angled himself with the cue and aimed for a yellow number two before looking over, hardening his gaze as he watched you hold a hand up to the guy as if asking for some distance. He shot the cue without meaning to, and failed to notice how he pocketed the 8 ball too soon and lost.

“Well that was shit,” Namjoon sneered as he pushed off the high table he was leaning against and took Jungkook’s cue from him, “I thought you were better than this.”

Hoseok practically ran to the nearest bathroom as he won the round and Yoongi took his place, “Wow, he really is about to pee himself.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook huffed as he looked toward the staircase, “I think I’m gonna get another drink, go on without me.”

“Bring me one,” Yoongi called out but Jungkook was already heading down the steps, shouting back a quick, ‘Get it yourself’, and disappearing.

“Brat,” Yoongi muttered under his breath as he took the small chalk square and rubbed it on the tip of his cue.

“No, I don’t think I owe you anything, actually,” you said with an annoyed sigh as you looked up at Jisoo. What you had hoped would be a somewhat comfortable night quickly turned left when you realized the two guys Sieun invited were nothing but entitled law students wanting to get their dick wet. You should have recognized it sooner, it would have saved you all this time if you just went home instead of following along with your best friend’s ploy.

It had been alright at first but then the drinks became a couple too many and suddenly the nice guy you thought Jisoo was became an arrogant manchild who’s upset you won’t let him grind against you for a song.

“Come on, don’t be such a bitch about it, it’s just dancing,” Rowoon said, apparently attempting to play matchmaker for his best friend to get some tonight too. Your brows raised in disbelief before looking down at Sieun who seemed stunned. She was leaning against him with his arm secured around her waist and she made no move to pull away from him either.

“Y/n,” she bit her lip nervously, “You are acting kind of stuck up, they’ve been buying us drinks all night.”

A scoff left your lips, “Because they wanted to, Sieun. I never asked nor did I promise anything.”

“Whatever man, it’s not even worth it,” Jisoo said as he looked at his friend, “I knew you were going to have us hang out with spoiled bitches tonight.”

“Is that a way to talk about a someone standing right in front of you?” A deep voice cut in from a couple feet away and it took you all a moment to realize they were talking to Jisoo. You looked behind him at the man from upstairs, throat tightening in surprise by his darker aura up close. He was attractive, godly, and you couldn’t deny it when he stood near you now. He looked down at you with that familiar gaze from earlier and only looked away when Jisoo processed his intrusion.

“Hey, why don’t you turn around and mind your business, bro,” Jisoo said with a scoff. You looked at Sieun with worry but her eyes were trained on the stranger as he glared at Jisoo.

“I can’t when you’re shouting out your business for anyone to hear,” Jungkook said with a tight smile, “It just sounds like you can’t handle rejection, bro.”

“Is this guy bothering you?” He asked you in a gentle tone, not caring for the eyes on him as he grew closer to you, “I was just at the bar and I heard some of what he was saying and… well, I just couldn’t stand by when he disrespected you. I didn’t feel like it was right.”

“Yo, why don’t you fuck off already?” Rowoon asked as he pushed Jungkook by the shoulder, “Don’t create a problem where there isn’t or I swear I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Jungkook asked as he stood straighter, “You’ll stick up for your buddy here? Because if that’s the case I can call a couple of my friends down too and make it a little more fair.”

As if called upon, they looked up to where Jungkook pointed and met Namjoon’s glare. The three were still playing pool but found what was taking Jungkook so long and looked down. You looked up too, mouth dry with anxiety as you turned to Sieun but she seemed intent on sticking to Rowoon’s side. The safest thing to do was to get away from a suddenly messy situation and take your friend home but she was more interested in talking Rowoon down instead.

Jungkook just smiled as he took a step back, “But that’s not necessary, I really just wanted to check on if she was alright or not so I can leave you guys alone now.”

You waited for the stranger to head back to the bar to speak and all you could do was call out to your friend. “Sie—“

“Whatever, fuck this shit is lame,” Jisoo huffed once the stranger was too far for earshot, “You guys do what you want I’m going somewhere else.”

“Yeah,” Rowoon said, trying to pry Sieun’s hands off him, “It’s gotten dead here anyway. I got what I wanted so let’s have fun somewhere else.”

“Wait for me,” she said giddily and you scoffed. She still wanted to go with them? “Sieu—“

“Look, if you don’t want to come out with us that’s fine but I’m not going to be rejected just because you aren’t into your guy,” she rushed to say as she began to walk away from you, “Call Jin, or an Uber and text me when you’re home.”

You looked taken back, surprised by her tone and it had your eyes narrowing with a sense of annoyance. You watched her walk off without you, completely surprised by her audacity to just leave you alone at a place you were clearly already uncomfortable at. You assumed you would be meeting up with others tonight but not somewhere like and not people like those guys. Sieun knew all along what she was dragging you into and wanted to paint you like the problem when you didn’t follow along to everything. They called you a bitch for fuck’s sake.

It was obvious what she said had been somewhat of a bluff considering she looked back at you like she still expected you to follow after her. Instead, you stood back looking indifferent to her departure and waited till she was out of sight to let yourself worry.

The spring night air was still chilly, too cold to be outside waiting for an Uber in the clothes you wore and you didn’t want to stand out there alone anyway. Your best bet was to wait at the crowded bar and pray no one put anything in your drink or something.

Jungkook was evidently surprised to see you alone out of the blue and sitting on the stool next to his, not bothering to even look his way as you focused on your cell phone. He couldn’t help but bite back a smile, thinking of what he should say and how he should say it. You barely reacted to him earlier but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. It was all about timing and patience.

“I’m sorry for butting in earlier,” Jungkook said in a gentle tone that drew your attention toward him, “It wasn’t my place at all and I should have just ignored it but I heard them go on for a while and no one was doing anything to stop it and I guess I just acted without thinking.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, simply looked at him as if debating if it was even worth your time to respond. With a polite smile you said, “It’s fine, but thank you.”

“No problem,” he cleared his throat, “But uh, you shouldn’t surround yourself with guys like that.”

“Trust me I don’t,” you sighed, “It’s the first time I’m meeting them and it’ll also be the last. Sorry you got dragged into it.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook said as he looked down at his drink thinking of what to say, “I uh… well, I saw you earlier and I guess it was the perfect excuse to talk to you. Does that make me seem like a hypocrite? Here I go trying to save you from being hit on while I wanted to do the same, shit.”

His suddenly shy and flustered demeanor amused you in a way you hadn’t expected. His exterior was rough with his tattoos, dark clothing and obvious chiseled body underneath. He also sported facial piercings you rarely get to see in person and he didn’t seem like the type to blush yet here he was with red cheeks and a nervous smile. It made you more keen on talking to him, made you feel flattered to leave him in such a state if you were being honest.

“I think I would have preferred if it was you instead,” You confessed, remembering back to the eye content you two held with each other when you first got to the bar. He had definitely taken notice of you from the beginning.

Your response caught him off guard and he had to stop his eyes from trailing down to your lips just to see how they looked when you said it. A smirk threatened to show as he sat straighter, “You’re making me blush. I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, I mean.”

“Y/n,” you said shortly as you looked at his soft rounded eyes that stared back into your own with curiosity. They were focused entirely on you again, “L/n.”

Y/n.

“So Y/n…” he swallowed dryly, “I see your… friends are gone, what are you going to do?” He sucked in his cheek to keep his expression still as he watched you crane your neck out with an exaggerated sigh. In all honesty, it was the perfect amount of exposure for him to press his lips to your delicate skin and leave a soft trail of kisses in their wake.

He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but you were so appetizing like he wanted to have a taste. Just one.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted as you looked down at your phone, “I’ve just been waiting for my ride to get here, but I should probably get going now.”

“Can I walk you out?” He asked. All it took was a simple nod of your head for him to be getting off the stool, stretching a hand out to you and helping you down. You took a moment to adjust your skirt that had risen when you were sitting and let him take your hand once more as you walked out.

It’s so strange knowing that if Jisoo had acted better, there was a chance you would be walking hand and hand with him instead. What was stranger was how your eyes had been on Jungkook at first too.

Eyes followed behind you like they had when you arrived and it made you nervous all over again. There was one thing to know people were looking at you, it was another to know people were glaring at you. Even if it wasn’t maliciously it felt like a lot to be stared at in a room you had never been in. Not to mention half of the men here gave you the serious creeps and now that you weren’t distracted by conversation, their wandering eyes were more noticeable.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Jungkook stepped back to say into your ear over the loud music, essentially pulling you closer to him, “You don’t look like the type to hang around these parts.”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, walking a little bit quicker to stay close. He slowed his walk to match yours better and cleared room for you to walk ahead of him as you went on, “Are you?”

“Am I?” He asked with slight confusion before he could fully process what you said and in an attempt to brush it off, he simply said, “Every now and then if I want something more lowkey.”

The two of you made it out in one piece but the red tesla Uber X that was supposed to pick you up was still a couple minutes away and it was cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself immediately after the cold hit and your teeth chattered loudly that he couldn’t help but look down at you. He didn’t want to grab you but he didn’t want you to freeze either, so he stepped closer so that you nearly touched and tried blocking you from the direction the chilly night air was blowing.

“You don’t have to wait with me, you’re probably cold too,” you said between trembling teeth, nearly jumping in place to warm yourself up. Jungkook just smiled as he looked down at you, “And leave you out here all by yourself? No thanks, I’m feeling fine, you’re the one who looks like you could use some more warmth.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, leaning into him without meaning to and feeling the body heat radiate off of him and cast you with a hint of warmth you desperately needed. If you had forgotten about Sieun ditching you for two guys, you remembered now and very clearly at that. She was probably off having fun and doing what they want while you practically froze outside.

“Come here,” he whispered gently, taking the initiative to just go for it and pull you into his arms. You were hesitant to let a stranger touch you — no matter how attractive he was — but it was just for a short moment while your Uber was a couple blocks away. You tucked yourself into him feeling his hands run up and down your arms as if to offer you further warmth and hugged you close.

You stayed against him for as long as you needed to until your ride was finally pulling up to where you stood and confirming you were their customer.

“Get home safe,” Jungkook told you and without thinking, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a goodbye before getting in the car with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown his way like it was nothing.

It took Jungkook a moment to bounce back. His face felt flushed and warmer than necessary and he stood at the end of the street watching the red Tesla drive off with his newest infatuation inside it.

“See, he didn’t leave.”

“Aye, Jungkook, mind telling us where you’re headed?” Hoseok asked as his friends from upstairs followed him out the club, “They thought you were ditching us for some chick.”

“Where’d she go anyway?” Yoongi asked, staring down the direction Jungkook was still facing, “And where’s her little friend? She was cute too.”

He thought about you for days. The very little amount of information he learned the other night played on a loop in his mind and he tried to dissect every little thing as if it’d help get closer to you. He hoped for anything that could fill the space of deep regret. How stupid could he be to not ask for your number?

It was such a rookie mistake and it made him want to gnaw at his skin. He had the chance to try and pursue it further and he had been too distracted by your innocent kiss to think properly. There were so many chances where he could’ve asked for your number but instead he just blanked. And how could he let himself be so distracted?

He’s hyper aware of his looks and how easy it was for him to charm someone but he never did anything about it. Every now and then he might indulge in time spent with someone else but anytime it started feeling a little too intense for his liking, he would end it quickly. Usually, he didn’t have to make the first move and people come to him. It makes it easier to turn them down that way too but he acted on impulse when he cut in. He wanted to get closer and once he’d done that he forgot how to act apparently.

How could he not ask for your number?

“You nervous?” Namjoon asked as he helped Jungkook wrap his hands with gauze. He was silent while Namjoon worked around him and it’s rare to not see him readying himself for a match. Jungkook could barely hear him speak as he listened to some rock song on full blast through his headphones. His mouth was practically sewn shut with how tight he held his jaw in place and his leg bounced with adrenaline.

When Namjoon freed one of his hands, he knocked the headphones off and looked at his friend, “What?”

“Are you nervous?” Namjoon asked again with a smirk this time, “You’re zoning out on me more than usual.”

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Jungkook said as he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror of the locker room. The room was ugly green from old fluorescent lights and it reeked of sweaty gym equipment making it feel gloomy. It made him feel dirty.

He thought about you and your pretty outfit, the way it hugged your shape promiscuously in all the right places but also felt shy. Maybe that was part of your charm aside from your strong eye contact. You presented yourself shyly but he had a feeling that wasn’t the full truth of it. As if underneath your worrisome exterior, you had enough confidence to not need attention on you—even when you already have it. At least that’s what he thought when he saw you down in the crowd for the first time.

You had gone from someone attractive he had caught a glimpse of to someone he wanted to talk to. All you had to do was catch his eyes with yours and you had him thinking about you for days. When you willingly stepped into his arms and kissed his cheek, it had actually made him flustered. It was unexpected and cute, made his heart race just a little. Is that why he couldn’t let you be? Was it because his heart raced annoyingly while his head told him to let it go?

Stupid.

He was so stupid to let you go.

“It’s time.”

Namjoon gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder and the two left the room ready to start. He played with the tape over his eyebrow piercing as he began to feel the slight rush set in when he was readying for a fight. The crowd was loud and cheering on whoever they were betting and most had a tendency to bet on him.

The opponent across from him was taller with broader shoulders and bleached blond spiky hair. He was glaring at Jungkook like he was trying to intimidate him but he just walked onto the mat calmly. The cheers around him grew louder, all chanting his name knowing he’d be taking home another win tonight.

The fight was going to be simple tonight, no eye gouging specifically but aside from that, no rules. He preferred them that way, he could practically do anything he wanted to win and he used everything he had, every time.

Just one, simple round.

”Look, I swear I didn't invite those guys again, plus Jimin is already here,” Sieun promised for the third time tonight as she pulled you closer to the front of the line where security was checking ID’s and taking fees. After nearly a week of ignoring her because of how she ditched you the past weekend, you grew bored of it and when she reached out to you, you responded. She does a lot of things to annoy you but you never care much to stay mad especially after knowing her for a couple years now. You were originally roommates your first year and developed into friends quickly after that.

She's more of a party girl than you are but it’s never bothered you before, even when some of the men she chooses to surround herself around are questionable. In all honesty, you don’t know how many friends she has aside from you and Jimin.

“I thought you guys were gonna cancel on me,” your friend said as he met with you two at the front. It was loud with flashing club lights and music that blared through your eardrums. He looked uncomfortable with everyone around but he tried to mask it with a smile.

Like yourself, Jimin rarely chose to go out so you would often find yourselves hanging out while scrolling through Sieun’s many posts of how great her night was. It was a choice and that’s why he was so hesitant to agree this time around. You practically had to beg him to join after Sieun begged you to come along too. There was some sort of underground ‘rave’ tonight at some abandoned warehouse not far from downtown and she had been buzzing about it for days.

You don’t even know where she heard of a place like this and when she waved the pink flier in front of your face, you were worried and curious. Now you find yourself surrounded by sweaty bodies drunk and high off who knows what while you try to anchor your worrying thoughts on your friend.

“I got you drinks,” he said, handing you both a cup, looking you up and down quickly and shifting his gaze away nervously. Sieun took hers and looked around, “Oh my god it’s so loud in here. There’s so many people, isn’t it fun?”

“Just don't run off like last time, we can’t afford to go looking for you again,” Jimin added, remembering back to the last time she got the two of you to come out with her. It was around Halloween and she left to go take shots with someone and before you knew it, she was gone. Her phone was in your purse after whining that she didn’t have pockets and it wasn’t until the next day you found out she made out with some guy before he paid for her cab to go home telling you how she blacked out.

“Jimin, don’t act like my dad and let’s just have fun,” she said, taking his hand in hers, trying to get his limp fingers to lace with her own, “I’ve got my two favorite people tonight.”

“Let’s take a shot then,” Jimin said with a sigh, letting go of her hand and turning toward you, flustered. You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re such a pushover, y’know.”

“Yeah, whatever, it’s hard not to be when I’m friends with you two,” he joked as the three of you walked to the bar, “And just for clarification, I’m more of a pushover when it comes to you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked playfully as you got to the bar first, leaning against it as you waited for the bartender to notice you.

“Last weekend when you showed up at my door and crashed on my bed,” Jimin reminded you of the Saturday before. In a slightly tipsy mistake, you had been too annoyed with Sieun to do anything thoroughly and when you scheduled an Uber it was to Jimin’s place not yours. It had been the last saved address put into the app and you hadn’t cared to notice your mistake until you were so close to his apartment that there was nothing you really thought to do. It didn’t help that you had been distracted by the events of that night and the small moments with a handsome stranger.

“You let me in, you could’ve turned me away,” you joked knowing that he never would. You woke him up out of his sleep with a phone call asking to be let up and he tiredly let you kick him off his bed making him sleep in the living room. The next day you told him what happened [leaving out certain parts ] and he ignored Sieun because you did and he forgave her when you did.

A scoff left his lips, “Like I ever could.”

“What can I get you guys?”

You looked away from Jimin quickly, unsure how to feel after his mumbled words and quickly told the bartender what you wanted. An audible sigh was heard from his lips as he turned to Sieun, ready to feel her prying eyes mocking him silently like she usually did when the three were together. She seems to think he’s just your little shadow but he’s not.

“Where’s Sieun?” He asked suddenly, shifting his gaze back to you, “Did she go to the restroom?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, grabbing your card out of your wallet to pay, “She didn’t say anything?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin huffed, “I’m gonna look around real quick, just stay there.”

In all honesty, Jimin was kind of thankful for Sieun’s disappearance. He could take a moment and rethink what was on his mind. Tonight was not the night to ask you out, especially not at a place like this and not with Sieun who he was sure had already drank a little bit before getting here. She was a good girl but sometimes she was reckless and he cared about her too so he left to find her and escape you.

The warehouse was in decent condition for being turned into a club like this and big enough to get lost in. It was shameful to admit how easy it was for Jimin to get lost.

After the fight, Jungkook had a heavy sense of adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His win was a given and with a promise to buy his friends drinks tonight, he went out to celebrate, landing himself at the same place as you for the second time in his life.

One might think it was just coincidental that they both attended the same place a second week in a row or you could look at it from a different perspective. Once again, Jungkook was given a second chance. You had been on his mind for days and it must’ve worked some string of fate to bring you together again and he couldn’t let that go.

You haven’t noticed him yet but he doesn’t blame you. The place was huge and dark so even if he sat across the squared bar counter, you couldn’t see him past the bottles at the center and the bartenders checking each side. He could only see you because of one of the strobe lights that kept casting you in a green glow. He recognized your features quickly and was reminded all over again of the strange trance you seemed to put him in.

Jungkook wasn’t oblivious to the guy you had been talking to for a while and unlike last time, you didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. You seemed to enjoy his company and when he left in the same direction your bitch of a friend did, you looked sad. He watched and waited while you did, the minutes passing by and still standing alone he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer.

Jimin and Sieun took forever and the longer you stayed hogging the bar while people tried to order, the more uncomfortable you got being alone. It’s the only reason why you chose to go and find your friends yourself, hoping they weren’t off arguing somewhere.

The last thing you wanted to do was get through the thick crowds to find your friends when you could barely see through strobe lights and random flashes of blue or red. Faces blurred together with deep shadows that barely let you see anyone clearly and your cell service was awful right now. It left you at a stand still, unsure which direction to take and annoyed by it.

In the mix of unfamiliar faces, one began to change and it didn’t take long for you to recognize him. Jungkook didn’t shy away from your soft glare, looking at you with a glint of adrenaline. His heart was pounding in his chest making his mouth feel dry in surprise. He closed the space between you, taking in your appearance in front of him and with an urge to smile, and shyly pointed out, “You again.”

“Me?” You questioned dumbly, still trying to wrap your mind around this coincidence. How is it that you’ve run into this stranger twice and so suddenly? Sure, you thought about him briefly and you assumed that was the end of it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Jungkook said. Your brows furrowed together and he’ll admit your look of confusion hurt him a little. Had you already forgotten all about him and was he just making a fool of himself this time? As he waited for you to respond, his nails pushed into his palm in a closed fist trying to ease his nerves.

“Why?” You asked, barely giving him any sort of response before it was his turn again. You too thought you’d never see him again yet you asked because you wanted to know his reasoning.

Despite his growing anxiety that he was the only one who couldn’t get you out of his head, he smoothed his tone and said, “Because you make me nervous.”

“You’re lying,” you said with the hint of a smile that encouraged him to keep going.

“I’m not,” Jungkook admitted truthfully, a soft look in his eyes as he said, “And you have no idea how mad I was that I didn’t get your number.”

When you didn’t say anything it made his smile falter, “Or did you already forget all about me?”

With a roll of your eyes, you released a small sigh and shook your head no. If anything you were forgetting your search for your friends because he was too distracting. A new smile spread across his features and he looked down at your full hands, “You plan on drinking all that yourself?”

It’s obvious they were for you and your bitch of a friend [who he remembers clearly ditching you for guys who insulted you], and some guy. Something inside him is asking who the guy was and if it was someone he should worry about being in his way but he’s decided to ignore it. Until you make it known that you don’t like his interest in you, he’s not planning on stopping.

You looked down at the drinks he was referring to and without thinking, you thrusted one toward him, “No, why don’t you take one?” As you juggled the three drinks in your hands, he was so close to grabbing one when a group of drunken people pushed past you to the bar, pressing you toward him.

His focus was on keeping you upright and in his arms rather than the three red cups that were crushed between you, or the cold liquid that spilled down the front of your dress. A soft gasp left your lips, stumbling into him as he held you up but locked eyes with one of the people who bumped into you. The guy didn’t even bother apologizing and that annoyed Jungkook even more. He looked up at Jungkook, feeling his glare on him that you didn’t even seem to notice as you worried more about the front of your dress being drenched in alcohol.

“Hey” Jungkook said over the loud music and the guy scoffed, rolling his eyes and attempting to follow his group. He moved to stand in front of him, same height but bigger build and said, “Don’t you think you should apologize?”

The guy tried to ignore him but Jungkook made it hard. He stood in front of him, little space between them and it was so obvious he was intimidating him. Jungkook watched the guy look back at you as you tried to dry off the front of your dress, he muttered a useless apology. You rolled your eyes, turning to Jungkook instead as you said, “I’m gonna go dry off.”

He let you walk off without much of a worry as he looked around. Your friends were nowhere to be seen and you left to the bathroom so he had a moment to think of what to do. He wanted to be somewhere you could easily find him, or that he could easily find you. At his feet, a bright screen lit up on the floor capturing his attention and without hesitating, he leant down to pick up the phone, recognizing the familiar wallpaper he had seen nights ago when you sat at the bar with him. Two notifications were stacked at the top and he couldn’t help but read them.

jimin: we’re upstairs

jimin: come

The phone has a passcode but he could still read the messages and without thinking, he cleared the notification away and followed after you.

He was not going to miss his chance again.

It took you minutes to dry off alone in the washroom, annoyed by the entire thing. Aside from getting soaked with the stench of alcohol, you were once again reminded that you’ve got no idea where your friends are. You liked seeing Jungkook but you’re still feeling alone somewhere you’re not used to. You need to call either Jimin or Sieun and bitch them out for leaving. Once you finished dabbing dry as much of it as possible, you felt around for your phone.

Your eyes widened suddenly, realizing it wasn’t with you and you felt the unbelievable weight of fear making its way into your fear wondering where it went. You rushed out of the packed washroom to start your search and came to a full stop as you stepped into the dark hallway.

A smile spread across Jungkook’s face, holding your phone up and waiting down the hall for you to find him. Your hands circled his as you took it from his hand, “Oh my god, thank you.”

You quickly checked your notifications screen for any sign that your friends were still alive and rolled your eyes when you found it blank. If they weren’t going to reach out to you then whatever, you were just going to do what you want. You tilted your head to the side in thought, looking up at him and asking, “Dance with me.”

“Okay,” he smiled warmly, holding your hand and letting you lead him to the music, already swaying your hips to the sound of the music. He let his free hand find the curve of your waist and pulled you toward him happily.

“You’re so pretty,” he said against your neck, soft touch tracing along your hips as they molded against his to the rhythm of the song playing. When your hands touched his all he could think about is how soft they felt. His fingers were rough and bruised from all the fighting he’s done while yours felt more delicate.

“Do I still make you nervous?” You asked playfully, turning to face him, your chest against his as he kept his arms secure on your sides.

“Extremely,” he looked into your eyes, “Especially right now that I’ve got you here with me again.”

Now, before anyone pegs you as the type, you’ve never been one to do things on such a whim. Usually, it took more to get you to show interest in a guy enough to want to sleep with him and that’s why this was so confusing. All you wanted to do was act out and get your hands on Jungkook.

Your decision was sudden and the only reason why you had the courage to tilt his chin down and press your lips against his. Jungkook was quick to respond, eager and hungry to taste you on his tongue. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you so close that it felt suffocating.

“Mm,” you hummed, pushing against him to catch your breath, “Was that too much?”

You both had shaky breaths that left you panting for air. Jungkook didn’t bother to respond as he leaned in for another kiss. This time around, Jungkook kissed you with more purpose.

The first one was on impulse, you kissed but did you really feel anything? He was too rushed and nervous to kiss you right that it felt shallow. Of course it still left him breathless with excitement but he wanted to feel it. When he kissed you the second time, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Jungkook was a good kisser, his lips were surprisingly soft and once you got used to the feel of his lip rings, you kinda liked them. You didn’t even think about everyone around you.

Your friends were so far out of your mind and all you could think about is Jungkook. He was intoxicating in a way. You know nothing about him but you want him and you can’t seem to get enough.

“It’s crowded in here,” You gasped for breath as he kissed down your jaw toward your neck. He was unbothered by the people who watched him, more interested in the way your body seemed to whither against his with each kiss he trailed lower. Your words nearly went past him but they registered enough for him to stop and catch his breath. He looked at you with a dark gaze that reeked of desire.

“Do you want to get out of here then?” He asked, sliding his hand down to yours and pulling you through the thick crow. He made his way through the dark warehouse with ease, not once thinking of the friends he was supposed to be celebrating with tonight. He found a better way to celebrate his win and it was with you and him standing outside with his lips on yours.

He wished he could say he remembers how everything happened but he can’t. He doesn’t want to remember the agony of driving to your place without the need to feel you again. He couldn’t keep his hand off you, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. It wasn’t enough and he had to bite on his bottom lip to keep from jumping over to kiss you at every stop light. You were too distracted telling him directions to notice the way he itched for more but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head either.

There was just something about Jungkook that you wanted at this moment and you don’t even know why. He was attractive, so attractive that it was hard to believe him when he says you make him nervous. A guy like Jungkook is nervous because of you? You wanted, no, needed to know why.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked him shyly once you were in the comfort of your apartment. It was big for one person and littered with things he wanted to learn more about.

“Sure,” Jungkook said with his back to you as he took it all in. There was a backpack on a chair in the corner of the living room and beside it were a stack of textbooks telling him you were most likely in school. He assumed you’d be somewhere in your twenties, possibly younger than him or even around his age.

There was a wall of framed photos of you with friends, some where you looked obviously younger than now and others that seemed more recent. He found the two people you were with tonight in a couple of them and his eyes lingered a little longer on the guy.

He wasn’t in a lot of pictures but he was in enough for Jungkook to notice. In one of them, it was you, Jimin, and some other guy to your side. It looked like a group dinner and if he goes based off the numerous college apparel he found sported by the group, he assumed it was some sort of class gathering. You looked cute with glasses and it took him by surprise to see how different you looked tonight. You looked good either way but he didn’t know the side to you that these pictures showed and he wanted to.

Like this pretty one where you laid in bed with a cat on your stomach, resting casually and effortlessly stunning. Is that what you looked like in the morning?

“Here,” you came up behind him and handed him a glass of wine. Jungkook took it with thanks and turned to face you, “Wow.”

“What?” You asked with a slight scoff. Jungkook shrugged as he tipped back his glass for a drink, “Is it my pictures? Ignore them, I look horrendous in some of them but I need them for the memories.”

“Wow, as in I’m with a pretty girl who’s been on my mind since the first time we met and I can’t believe it,” Jungkook said, taking a step closer to you.

You couldn’t help but smirk when you watched him set the glass down on the coffee table and walk toward you, “You’re a little too good with your words, yknow.”

“Really?” Jungkook asked, circling your waist with his hands, dipping his head to meet yours, “You think it’s because I’m telling the truth?”

“Is that it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him pull you into him, “I take it you’re not nervous anymore.”

“Terrifyingly nervous, actually,” he whispered, lips brushing against yours teasingly, “Because I still want to kiss you.”

You kissed him suddenly but he was ready for it and crushed you against him. His fingers were shaking to unzip the back of your dress and he had to remind himself to be patient. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him, just that he wants you.

He pressed himself closer to you, tongue slipping past his lips and to yours. Somewhere between the way your tongues danced for control, he had gotten the top of your zipper unhooked and was letting it fall apart along your back. It happened so quickly you gasped and circled your arms around his neck hoping to keep the dress from falling and exposing the expanse of your naked body too soon. He distracted you with his mouth along your jaw while his hands roamed your smooth back, feeling you without a barrier and letting his fingertips buzz with want.

He circled his hands down to your hips, tightening his grip and you got the hint quickly, throwing your legs around his waist as he carried you, not once breaking the kiss. You panted, out of breath, and a little shocked by the pace of it all. You weren’t complaining but you also weren’t expecting him to unzip your dress and hoist you up so easily.

He followed where you pointed and kicked your bedroom door open without a care to how hard it slammed against the wall or how hard he shut it back before he was throwing you onto your bed.

“I usually have more patience,” Jungkook spoke in a low, raspy tone as he reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it off, “But you have to understand, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

You would’ve responded back about how he has been on your mind too if you hadn’t been so distracted by the veins running down his V-line. His abdomen was nothing but solid muscle and his tattoos went farther that you had first originally thought. He had a pretty body, and you were staring at it too hard to articulate a response. He unbutton his jeans, kicking them off and looked at you with a darkened gaze.

As if moving mechanically, you pulled at the straps of your dress, letting it fall off your shoulders and pulled it the rest of the way thanks to his earlier help. It slipped to your feet and he knelt on the bed to help you remove it completely, hovering over your now naked body and staring down at it.

“Now I’m the one feeling nervous,” you admitted in a teasing tone as you pressed your thighs together knowing the only things separated his manhood from your heat was your thin lace underwear and his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook heard what you said but he couldn’t understand it. How could you feel nervous? why do you close your thighs and try to hide your bare chest from his eyes?

Do you not realize how perfect you are to him? From the length of your legs to the figure he liked to trace with his hands. He found you beautiful from head to toe and with you laying bare beneath him, he could really appreciate it.

Jungkook couldn’t think of the right words for you to know how lovely you looked to him, so instead he kissed your neck, practically pushing your head into the pillows. His hands traced along your sides, caressing teasingly whenever he got too close to your breasts and made a move to touch them but trailing down the last second. It made you arch your back off the bed wanting to feel more and he took it as his sign to keep going.

“Pretty, Angel,” he whispered softly, kissing your neck down to your collarbone, moving down toward your chest. He pressed teasing kisses to the soft mounds, his hands circling the underside and squeezing lightly as he kissed over one of your buds, “So fucking pretty.”

You gasped in surprise when his teeth ghosted over your hardened nipples and soothed the rough feeling with his tongue while his other hand pinched your bud between his index finger and thumb.

His hair tickled your chin and collarbone and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through it, feeling him smirk against your skin and scoot down more. He kissed down your stomach, annoyingly skipped over where you craved him most, and kissed your thighs. When you felt the urge to hurry him along, he knew exactly when to slip his fingers under your lace underwear and pulled them down.

“Fuck,” you gasped ever so lightly when he spread your thighs apart giving you absolutely no way to conceal your obvious arousal. Jungkook loved it, he loved the sight of your exposed pussy to his hungry eyes. He liked that he could see your clit and the slick that huddled at your center, wondering how it would taste when he ran his tongue along it. And he’s never been one for much self control when he really wanted something, so he went for it.

Your legs threatened to shut the moment his tongue made contact with your clit in a long, teasing lick but he held the open. Your immediate reaction to his touch made his dick harden in his briefs and he pressed it into the mattress for some pressure as he wrapped his lips around your clit in a kiss while his tongue swiped over it. It was obvious to you now that Jungkook was highly experienced in pleasuring someone and it showed in how he licked down your folds, collecting arousal on his tongue and coating your clit with it.

Your head sunk into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling trying to contain the small whimpers that nearly slipped past your lips but it was hard. He was so attentive with his mouth, making sure to tease all of your cunt but making sure to go back to your clit because that’s where you would respond the most. When he looked up at you and found you looking elsewhere with your bottom lip between your teeth, he hadn’t liked it. He released one of your thighs letting it fall over his shoulder while his hand snaked its way along your body, running over your tits and dragged along your neck.

He felt the way your breath caught in your throat when he pulled at your bottom lip, tracing the curve of it with his fingers before pushing them into your open mouth. You curled your tongue around his middle and index fingers, coating them in saliva and gagging lightly when he pressed them a little too deep. All the while, his mouth worked tricks on your pussy.

When Jungkook felt that his fingers were wet enough, he pulled them out of your mouth and felt you pant at the release. He brought his hand down by his face, pulling at your labia and teasing the folds with his fingertips. It was all you got for warning when his lips sucked at your clit and he pressed his middle finger into your wet cunt. Even with just one, you felt tight and he didn’t have to patience to wait before the second one joined.

“Oh,” you moaned helplessly, hand blindly searching the sheets for something to hold before trailing over your thighs until you found purchase in Jungkook’s hair. It was all the guidance he needed to thrust his fingers in and out in rhythm with the way his tongue circled patterns into your clit. You shook your head with pleasure, “I can’t.”

Jungkook didn’t pull back when you squeezed your thighs around his head. Your grip in his hair didn’t ease and he knew you wouldn’t want him to stop now matter what you said so he didn’t. He hooked his fingers into the soft tissue inside your walls, knowing it was your pleasure spot by the way your moans grew.

It was now while he ate out your pussy and fingered you to bliss, that you called bluff on his so-called nervousness around you. No man he claimed to be nervous around you had ever pleasured you the way he has, not this conf

“Jungkook,” you whined, tugging at his hair and dragging a groan from his lips at the sudden pull, “Can’t wait anymore.”

He heard you clearly but he kept going, he kissed your clit harder and fingered you deeper until your walls tightened around them so much that he couldn’t pull them out. He could practically feel the knot forming in your stomach and when he felt as though it could fall apart, he stopped.

An impatient whine slipped past your lips as your legs shook with anticipation for what had been coming and you glared up at him. He was pulling his briefs off, reaching for a condom packet that had been tucked away in his car that he grabbed while you weren’t looking.

“What, baby? Thought you said you couldn’t wait anymore,” He teased as he tore into the packaging with his teeth and brought a hand down to his hard member. You wished you were being dramatic when you thought it was the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, but it was. It was long, not too thin with just the right amount of girth and he was around average in length. Just the right amount to reach that spot that made your toes curl. He was also clean shaven, the veins down his V-line led straight to his cock and their prominence was mouth watering when he stroked himself for friction.

And Jungkook was well aware of the way your eyes traced down his naked body and it only made him smirk. He worked out so often he probably lived at the gym, he ate an appropriate diet, he was fit and healthy. He worked hard to look the way he did and it was obvious you liked it all. He slipped the condom on slowly, letting you imagine how your own hands would feel curled around him and moaned.

“You can touch if you want,” once again he was teasing you, smirking as he said it and crawled onto the bed.

“You’re kind of cocky for someone who claims to be nervous around me,” you groaned against his lips as you sat up to kiss him, following his lead as he laid down on his back and pulled you onto his lap.

He grinned, guiding your hips to align with his and he could practically feel your pussy take him in. His cock stood straight at attention, directly pointed to your entrance and you teased his tip by softly grinding in it. He took a deep breath, feeling it catch at your hole and without warning, pressed your thighs down and made you take him in.

“Fuck,” you both moaned softly as you sank down his length. You pressed your hands to his chest for support as you adjusted to the intrusion and lifted your hips slowly, feeling the stretch and forcing it away. Jungkook kept his hands on your hips, not moving you but keeping you in place when you began to fuck yourself with his cock. You were hesitant at first, shy as you dragged your hips up but after a while, you began bouncing. Your pace had picked up and you weren’t as careful taking him in when you came down on his cock.

“That’s it,” he moaned, fingers digging into your hips, “Keep going.”

You tossed your head back in pleasure, doing as told and letting him walk you through it as you went faster. You never expected him to be someone who liked when the other was on top but damn did he look good beneath you.

Jungkook’s hair was coated in sweat and he had the arm with the tattoos holding your waist. His lip piercing was pulled between his teeth to hold back his moans and his cock felt so big inside you. The muscles in his abdomen flexed everytime your walls squeezed around him and after a while you didn’t notice that he began to take over.

His hands were now moving your hips for you setting it at a quicker and rough pace for his liking. His hips met yours every time you went down and his dick reached a deeper part inside you when he did so. It prodded at your pleasure spot like it knew exactly where it was each time and when it felt like your arms couldn’t support your weight anymore, he pulled you down.

“So good,” you slurred on your words as you fell against his chest, feeling him fuck you roughly from below and move your hips for you while you hugged him.

“Mhm, baby, you feel so good,” he grunted.m, bouncing you on his cock feeling his orgasm build up intensely, “So fucking tight.”

“Jungkook,” you moaned, “Kiss me.”

He did.

He rolled you onto your back, tired of being stuck below you and nearly folded you in half when he raised your legs up. He kissed you harshly, thrusting back into you with more vigor when you moaned for him.

He can’t remember the last time sex ever felt this good—if it ever felt this way, and he couldn’t control himself. He knew he was close already, his cock was now fucking your pussy with more rhythm and determination to make you cum.

Jungkook’s back flex with each buck of his hips and he trapped you below him leaving you with nothing but pleasure and making you take every second of it. Your jaw fell slack, fucked into nothing but a moaning mess and you clawed at his back, “I’m close.”

Those were the right words to egg him on. He was close to cumming too, and he fucked you like he’ll never get a chance again. He fucked you good and hard like you never had before and your pussy walls tightened around him with anticipation. The feeling had built up from earlier and now there was no holding back anymore. You physically couldn’t stop the crash of your orgasm that wrecked your entire body. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your throat went dry and your thighs shook dramatically around him.

The intensity of your arousal knocked his into action when he felt your slick coat his covered cock in your cum and he fell apart. His body crushed yours under its weight as he pushed into the hilt and held it there, cumming into the comment with a long, drawn out groan in your ear, “Fuck.”

It felt like forever before the feeling of being high left your body and when he rolled off of you to lay beside you instead, you took your first real and steady breath of the night. He laid on his back, pulling you into him and tried to catch his breath, “You felt so good.”

“You’re so hot,” you admitted to his face, looking up at him and how he began to absentmindedly play with his brow piercing as he looked down at you.

The one round had tired him out if he were being honest, maybe it was how you tightened around him heavenly so it simply because it was you he was sleeping with of all people, but he was tired.

He hadn’t expected to feel your hand trace down his lean stomach toward his cock that was still semi-hard and covered in his own cum from when he pulled the condom off.

“We’re not done, are we?” You asked teasingly, pressing a light kiss against his abs, hand finding his dick and circling around it.

Jungkook couldn’t bite back the groan that escaped his lips when you began to jerk him back to hardness, “Not even close, baby.”

5AM

“You’re leaving?” You asked in a tired tone as you watched him sit up from the bed. It’s been hours since you slept with him and you both must have fallen asleep when you were snuggling and now you’ve woken up to him wrestling his jeans back on.

“That depends, do you want me to stay?” He asked and he wanted you to say yes. When you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to also and it was so peaceful. His usual soreness after a fight hadn’t kicked in yet and he was able to relax. The only reason he woke up at all was because of his annoying phone that lit up from inside the pocket of his jeans.

It was his friend asking for a place to crash. He was going to go home and let Hobi in but instead you woke up with a pout asking if he was leaving. You shrugged, “I mean… I get it if you want to leave, I was just asking.”

Your response kind of hurt him and made him wonder if that’s what you wanted. He looked back at you and the way you laid on your side to look at him. The street lamp hit your window directly and rows of orange light filtered through your blinds and on the edge of your bed. He didn’t actually want to leave but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Some people don’t like the morning after and he was going to save himself from getting hurt by someone who might not be too interested too soon.

“I don’t want to,” Jungkook admitted with acknowledgement to the way you looked at the thought of him leaving. It didn’t take more convincing for him to be pulling the covers over him once more so he could lay beside you.

As the days passed, Jungkook stayed on your mind. It didn’t help that your friends felt the need to know everything that happened over the weekend including how you didn’t see their texts. You swore up and down that you hadn’t received anything from them but the next day after Jungkook finally left your place, you called Jimin who scolded you over the phone.

Even now he’s intent on reminding you how you ditched them for some guy. Sieun was more lenient on the matter, “There’s nothing like hooking up with a hot stranger on a Saturday night. I didn’t think Y/n had it in her but from what I remember, her savior was hot.”

The three of you huddled inside a study room that you booked in the library a few days ago. There was supposed to be actual studying going on but instead the three of you were more interested in discussing the events from the weekend. Apparently, Sieun had spotted someone she knew and that’s why she ditched you two so fast. It took Jimin a while to find her but once he did, he appreciated the lack of people on the second floor and deemed it safer and probably more enjoyable than where he had left you. He sent you texts that you never read and with bad connection, his calls wouldn’t go through.

It wasn’t until the morning after that you told them what you had been up to and with who. Sieun remembered Jungkook from what happened with Jisoo and Rowoon and even she could admit he was attractive—making sure to tell you she would have happily jumped his bones too. Usually you’re not as vocal about who you choose to spend a night with but considering the three of you separated on Saturday, it felt like you owed them that much.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Jimin asked as he mindlessly jotted down notes from a seminar he missed this morning.

“We're supposed to meet up later for dinner,”you admitted, scrolling aimlessly through your online textbook to find the short questionnaire.

“Ooh, you’re already going for round two? Look at you, you little slut. First you sleep with a stranger and now you plan on hitting him up for more. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Sieun joked obnoxiously.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to say, “It’s just a quick meal… nothing serious.”

Jimin pursed his lips, “Hm, just be careful alright. When’s the last time you dated someone?”

“Oh my god, it’s really not like that, nobody is talking about dating anyone. We’re just going to hang out, that’s it. We don’t even know each other that well,” you told him but he only shared a look with Sieun.

“Was he at least good in bed?” She asked and Jimin covered his ears instantly. Your studying had been long forgotten as you talk about quite literally anything else going on in your life and in a weird way, it felt good.

Usually, you’re locked up in a room studying for the next big exam but lately you’ve been trying to loosen up. You weren’t super big into going out but ever since you ran into Jungkook for the first time it made you wonder why you weren't out having fun like everyone else. You forced yourself out this past weekend and you had the luck to run into Jungkook again, so why shouldn’t you let yourself have fun with someone new? That’s what this was all about, why you’re going out with Jungkook.

Your day went by in a blur probably due to nerves as you anxiously waited for Jungkook. Your last lecture finished late and the sun had already begun to set when you left the auditorium with Jimin who waited outside for you.

“So he’s picking you up?” Jimin asked, taking your backpack off your shoulders so he could carry it. The walk was short to the gate entrance but he did it out of habit and you never argued against it. Jimin has been a good friend to you for some time now and he’s been this way with you. When he gets curious about who you’re potentially seeing, you never think too much about it and always answer honestly.

“Yeah, but I’ll text you later about the project,” You told him, staring out to the entrance trying to see if he was here yet. In an attempt to put yourself out there more, you met Jungkook and it’s been the most exciting thing to happen in a while.

It’s not that you weren’t hit on before or had past ‘relationships’ but none made you feel as giddy as Jungkook does. Usually you’re on your own studying or going to your part time job so making time for someone else wasn’t on your radar until Jungkook. How strange it is that you could quickly change and act interested in someone else. Jimin felt pushed aside as your friend but he didn’t want to think about it. He’s seen you ignore guys so often that it’s taken him by complete surprise to see you show interest in someone who wasn’t him and he’s still not sure how he should feel.

“He’s here,” you turned to Jimin, taking your backpack off his shoulders and wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace. Jimin didn’t hesitate to hug you back, quickly looking up to find the guy you’ve been talking about. His hold on you didn’t ease as he locked eyes with the guy with shock.

Jungkook was nothing like the kind of guys Jimin pictured you with. He was rugged, rough around the edges and in all honesty, intimidating. How else was he supposed to take Jungkook’s appearance as? He stood against a black Yamaha with his arms crossed in front of his chest staring Jimin down.

He wore a black compression shirt with his tattooed arms on display, black jeans, and shoes. The only color on him was the flash of silver from the shining chain around his neck, his piercings, and the silver Rolex on his wrist. He matched the motorcycle behind him with its silver, chrome rims and a clean engine.

Jimin thought about himself and the other guys you hang around. He tends to wear softer colors and he’s heard too many times how approachable he looks. Jin, who you’ve been close to since you started Uni, was your senior and he always evoked a welcoming smile on his face. He was buff from working out but not scary. Not even the last guy he remembers you talking to wore this much black or drove a motorcycle. What was this about?

“Be safe,” Jimin mumbled as he finally let you go and broke his gaze away from the guy.

“I will,” You waved goodbye and looked at Jungkook, unable to stop the bite on your lip as you looked at him.

Jungkook waited until your friend walked away for his glare to soften, only able to think about the way he hugged you tightly and watched him as he did it. You didn’t fight off his touch either, you enabled it and he wished you wouldn’t. You shouldn’t need to be so affectionate with anyone else now he’s here, especially not another man. He tried to smile when you approached him but all he could think about was where the guy’s hands had been.

They touched your waist, sliding under your cropped knitted sweater just slightly and touching your bare skin. When he let go, his hand had gone down to your hip, one final attempt to keep his hand on you and that meant he knew how soft the denim of your jeans was.

Why did he get to touch you first?

A smile spread across his lips as he eased the lines of irritation off his face the closer you got. Pushing off his bike, he uncrossed his arms and opened them wide, waiting for you to come to him, “Come here, Angel.”

You nearly jumped in his arms, and it made it easy for Jungkook to lift you off the ground in a tight embrace, taking in the soft and familiar smell of your perfume. Jungkook didn’t shy away from showing affection as he left soft kisses against your neck while you tried to keep yourself from losing your footing and with a small laugh, you pushed him back, “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” Jungkook said as he released you, only keeping your hand in his, leading you toward his bike, “I’ve missed you.”

“Liar,” you teased, eyeing the motorcycle before you, “This is yours?”

His muscles tensed when you said he was lying but he tried to let it go and answer your question, “Yeah, why? Are you scared?”

“No,” you shook your head looking over at him, “I’m excited.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and he lifted up a black helmet with light pink detail around the framing, “Good, because you’ll be riding it more often. This is yours.”

“What?” You touched the helmet as he helped you put it on, “The helmet?”

He nodded with a bite of his lip, “Can’t have you riding around without proper safety. I picked it up this morning, it’s custom.”

You didn’t stop to think about what he said, too excited to get on your first motorcycle. Jungkook had your helmet ordered a few days ago with some added detail he thought you might like. In all honesty, when he left your place the next morning, he submitted the order and began to think of what else you might like. He’s surprised you weren’t nervous and he had thought the helmet would ease you into the idea of letting him drive you around but you didn’t even hesitate to get on. It was cute how excited you seemed and it did things to him.

“Hold me around here,” He said, adjusting your legs to straddle him as moving your arms around his waist, “How does it feel?”

As he waited for you to answer, he felt your hand press against his abdomen, sliding over the ridges of muscle he’s gained in training and toward his taut stomach, fingertips brushing against the belt around his waist. He looked down at your ringed hand catching a feel of him with a crooked smile that you couldn’t see under the helmet. Your head rested against the back as you brought your hands back to where he had them first and said, “Feels fine.”

Tease.

You’re a fucking tease.

Here you are, straddling his bike, feeling him up but hugging another guy. He wants to enjoy it but Jimin is on the back of his mind and it was annoying the shit out of him. He just wanted to be with the person he has feelings for without thinking of anyone else. He has to remind himself you’ve only just started seeing each other, there’s still some things to learn for the both of you.

For him, it was to slow down. He couldn’t jump into it and expect you to give him the same energy, this is why he was hesitant to approach you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take things slow.

Your first ride on a motorbike had been exhilarating. When you first found Jungkook standing beside it, your heart raced with worry but then you remembered what you told yourself. You were going to try new things and you liked it. Jungkook knew what he was doing and he made you feel safe when he would run a soothing hand along your thigh at a stoplight.

He was a gentleman too. He took your helmet off you when you got to the restaurant and held the door open for you. He pulled your chair out, let you order first and kept his eyes on you and only you. You’ve never met a guy who acts the way he does and it’s a shame.

“Tell me about yourself,” you asked after it felt like ages of him listening to you rant about one of your professors. Jungkook had such a look of patience as he listened but you were tired of talking, and scared you were secretly boring him. You needed to know something about him.

Your food arrived at the table and Jungkook unwrapped your silverware for you, cleared the table and made sure you were taken care of first before saying anything. When he finally did decide to speak, it started with a clear throat, “What do you want to know?”

“Are you in school?” You asked, remembering the night in bed when you figured out your ages through late night cuddles and superficial conversation. You could barely remember what i you talked about because your mind was so clouded and there was still so much to know about him aside from his name and age.

“No, I never went to college,” Jungkook admitted, shifting his gaze toward the other end of the restaurant, “I own a gym.”

“Really?” You asked with surprise, trailing your eyes down to his shoulder muscles, “But you’re so young.”

Underneath the table, Jungkook’s leg had stretched out toward you, foot hitting yours teasingly as he went on, “Yeah, I worked a lot and saved up enough to put a deposit down on a studio. The equipment is old and it’s usually used for kickboxing so there needs to be open space without bulky new machines in the way. I make do with what I got. What are you studying again?”

“Uh uh,” you waved a finger at him, “I’ve been going on and on about myself already, I want to hear more about you.”

“But I could listen to you all day, Angel,” Jungkook said with a smooth tone. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Nice try but keep going.”

He stayed silent for a moment as you waited for him to keep going, looking down at your plate. A small smile spread across his lips as he said, “There’s not much to know, I’m a boring guy. I've got two loving parents, an older brother I’m close to, and a son named Bam, he’s a Doberman. That’s it.”

”Do they live around here?” You asked, trying to get him to open up more. Jungkook just shook his head no and said, “They live in Busan. What about you? Are you close with your family?”

”Um, not really, they think I’m always too busy so they stopped checking on how I was doing,” You told him honestly, “But they pay for my schooling so I guess that’s a plus.”

The two of you stayed and talked long after the plates were cleared from your table and you couldn’t remember the last time you had a good conversation with someone. Jungkook was a lot softer than his appearance let off. He was sweet and caring and he seemed to listen to every word you said intently your first impression of him as someone tough and intimidating was slowly beginning to dissipate. Jungkook only allowed himself to come off this way but he was into you. He wanted you to know he can be a good guy and so far he thinks he’s done a good job. You’ve been all smiles this entire time and he’s loved every second of it.

If he could, he would stay here all night just listening to you go on and on about anything that interested you. You had his full attention, nearly making him miss the person behind you. He recognized him right away and his lips curled in a knowing smirk when the guy spotted him.

“Looks like they forgot to take out the trash,” the guy mumbled under his breath as he passed by the table you occupied with Jungkook. You couldn’t help but turn at those words, wondering who said that and locked eyes with a tall, good looking guy. Your brows furrowed with confusion, unable to tell if he was talking about you and Jungkook but as you looked up at Jungkook, he was watching the guy closely.

“Do you know him?” You asked under your breath as Jungkook motioned for the waiter to bring the check now. He shook his head, “No.”

”Good for nothing, I’m telling you, and he doesn’t fight fair,” the guy spoke from a table not too far from where you two were, ‘I bet the next time, I’ll take him and he won't be running his mouth like he did last time.”

Jungkook couldn’t help back the scoff that left his lips and he tried to hide his annoyance from showing on his face. All he wanted was to have a good night with you and now someone from his past has decided to unexpectedly rui it. It wasn’t even anyone who mattered, just some guy he fought against a couuple years ago. The guy is still bitter that his trash talking left him with a broken nose and dislocated shoulder. It’s obvious he hasn’t learned his lesson and now that he’s seeing Jungkook again, he’s reminded all over again of the physical pain he put them through and thins this time would be different.

If jungkook really wants to, he would show the guy that time hasn’t changed anything and that he could easily still wring his neck if he chose to. The guy should feel lucky that Jungkook is here with you and doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene.

“Ready to go, angel? It’s getting a little crowded here,” Jungkook’s tone was strained as he tried to sound unaffected by the guy’s remarks but in reality, he was pissed. It was one thing for the guy to run his mouth but to do it when Jungkook is clearly trying to enjoy himself with someone?

“Sure,” your energy was down as you looked back to the guy and the people he was with. They were staring over at you with dark gazes that send a shiver down your back.

“One chance and I’ll knock his fucking teeth in,” the guy said, “Then I’ll take his bitch while I’m at it.”

The last comment seemed to have Jungkook frozen in place. You watched him turn back to the guy with a tense jaw and dead eyes as if in warning and it left you feeling worried and confused. It’s obvious he does know this guy or else why would he be saying those things just to get a reaction out of him? What were you supposed to do in this situation?

“Kook?” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself and for a second you thought it had gone unheard until he turned to you with a gentle smile. Jungkook completely switched out of his hardened expression as he walked to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and said, “Let’s go.”

”You okay?” You asked as the two of you made it out of the restaurant in one piece. Jungkook’s motorcycle sat perfectly in the parking lot, waiting for you two to get on it and Jungkook pressed you against it.

Your arms went around his neck without question as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss against your lips, “Of course.”

He pulled away shortly, meeting your gaze, “Let’s get you home.”

In the back of your mind you knew something was off about the entire thing that happened at the restaurant but you weren’t sure how to bring it up—if you even could. The guy was talking about him, and you, and what he said raised questions that you wanted answers to but Jungkook wasn't going to give them to you, especially not tonight. His entire demeanor changed even if he tried to pretend like it didn’t but you saw right through his tense face and deep, jagged breaths. It was messing with his head but you couldn’t ask him about other things so soon. For all you know, that guy did Jungkook dirty and he had no desire to open up old wounds.

Plus, you’ve only known him for a short time so why bring it up? Over time if it mattered, he’ll tell you, you think.

Jungkook dropped you off at your apartment with a kiss goodbye and a promise to call. You didn’t even have time to stall and see if he would come up to stay the night before he was speeding off with a roar of his engine. You went upstairs to unwind, wondering what had bothered Jungkook so much about the guy. He seemed to have good restraint or else he would have acted out at the restaurant but he also could’ve been acting calmer because you were there. What would have happened if the guy caught him alone?

It took him hours to get over it, and even then, he wasn’t actually. If anything he was just pleased to know he could do something about it without putting you in the middle and that’s why when he pulled up to the address he scribbled, he couldn’t help but grin with excitement.

“You found it?” Yoongi asked through his car’s Bluetooth. He switched out his bike earlier to look less suspicious and began his search for that lowlife.

“Yeah, he just got home,” Jungkook muttered quietly as he watched the shittalker, Minho, get out of his red Nissan. He left his garage open and gave Jungkook a good view of the garage door opening and closing behind him as he entered the house alone.

“You should’ve heard what he said about Y/n, hyung,” Jungkook said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. He called you a bitch just to see if it’ll rule him up and if there’s one thing he hates, is disrespect someone he’s with. He was supposed to ask you to be his girlfriend tonight, officially, yet here he was pulling his black hood over his beanie clad head and sliding on a black face mask.

Yoongi released a sigh, once again being reminded of you. Jungkook had been going on and on about you like a lovesick puppy for some time now and Yoongi was just waiting to see when he would act up. In truth, Jungkook’s never been in a real relationship, only short flings but he never fully gave anytime the time of day. He was always distracted and uncaring so when he started talking about you and how he wanted to be with you, it was hard for Yoongi or the others to believe it.

Now here’s Jungkook more bothered by the fact Minho referred to you as a bitch than all the trash talking he had been doing. He was about to do something reckless and Yoongi couldn’t help but support it, knowing how much his friend needed to get out of his system before something worse could happen?

What could be worse than Jungkook tracing the guy’s footsteps into his house with a brick in hand?

Who knows.

“One more minute,” his voice was low and gentle, as he whispered against your neck. His cold hand traced along your exposed waist and pulled you closer to his embrace.

“Jungkook,” you said with a sigh, reluctant to leave your side of his bed, “I’ve got a presentation at nine that I have to prepare for.”

After dinner with him, you had been home trying to unwind and call up your friend to work on the project together. You stayed up past midnight trying to finish it and when you received a call from Jungkook asking to be let up, you had debated saying no. Whatever happened at the restaurant had raised some questions but in the end, his smooth talking got him in your bed for the rest of the night.

Your words held little sway against the relaxation of your body against his and feeling the light warmth of his kisses lingering on your skin. His lips trailed down your collarbone, bunching the small top you wore to bed and to your exposed navel. The touches there wouldn’t last long before he was back to your shoulder, soft kisses decorating your skin. It felt so intimate even if it was so harmless. You turned your head to face him better and he took it as a chance to kiss the corner of your mouth gently, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

He wasn’t even asking for sex, he just didn’t want to leave your bed yet knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you all day. He locked his fingers around yours as you shook your head no, “I’m meeting my partner early so we could run through lines one more time.”

“Do I know them?” Jungkook asked, eyes looking down at yours as you laid beside him. Despite still sounding calm and relaxed, there was something off about his tone. You thought about his question for a second, debating if you should tell him or not.

“Yeah, Jimin, he was with me when you picked me up earlier,” you said as he finally loosened his hold on you enough for you to get up. He watched you leave the bed in nothing but your top and a lacy pair of underwear, making your way to your closet as he made himself comfortable on your bed.

He watched in awe as you came back out and dropped the clothes down on the foot of the bed while beginning to undress what little you wore. You carried on your usual morning routine and turned the TV on to the first thing that played for some background noise.

“Last night around 11:00pm, a neighbor heard strange noises coming from a residential area in __ district.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook called your name as he stared at the remote you tossed onto your vanity. You were slipping on a skirt you deemed appropriate for your presentation and looked at him, attempting to zip up the back on your own.

“Help me?” You asked before he could say anything else and he sat up to just that, listening to the news playing quietly.

“It wasn’t until this morning that the brave neighbor knocked on the door of Kim Minho’s place early at 6:00am, checking to see what the noise was.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Would you um, w-well, I want you to— go out with me? Like, maybe start dating, officially.”

“Officially?” You turned to him with a playful grin, shoving him back on the bed softly, “As in?”

“The 24 year old was found unconscious lying in a pile of what appears to be his own blood with blunt force wounds on multiple parts of his body.”

You made an attempt to turn to the television, finally feeling it pique your interest but Jungkook pulled you onto him with one swift tug of your skirt and said, “Girlfriend, I want you to be mine.”

“Kim has been transported to the local hospital where they attempt to bring him back to a stable condition. That is all the news we have as of now but we’ll get back to you as soon as more becomes available.”

“Okay,” you smiled, straddling his lap now in nothing but your skirt and bra, “But I should finish getting dressed.”

Your now boyfriend had an evident pout on his face as you quickly kissed him on the lips before pulling yourself off him. He watched you finish getting ready, making himself comfortable on your bed before saying, “Change the channel or something.”

The room he locked himself into was filled with gloom. There were no family pictures on the wall or any sign of a happy childhood like yours. Instead there were empty picture frames nearly identical to the ones that adorned your apartment that he soon planned to fill with pictures of the two of you together. So far he’s only got one picture and it’s of you laying in bed together.

Your head was resting on his bare chest as he kissed your hair and took the selfie. You looked so cute to him and every time he looked at it, it would make something bubble in his chest. There’s no way for him to truly explain the depths of his feelings for you and where they sprouted from and they only seemed to grow stronger the more he thought about you.

You’re just everything he’s ever imagined and he’s not being dramatic at all. Whenever he thought about the perfect person for him he always imagined someone like you. You were the craving for his sweet tooth. If he were coffee, you’d be the sweetener.

His world has been so black and blue and finally explosions of other colors were clouding his life. No longer was he just thinking in the negative, he was thinking about the positive and how that was you. He’s decided he’ll become a better man for you, someone who truly deserves you even if he already thinks nobody else does but him.

Life has been so unfair to him and you have been the only upside to it so how could he not want to keep you for himself? You understand him, or at least the version of him he’s told you and he’s sure that over time you’ll understand the real him.

Yes, he’s been hiding things but it’s been for the best. He can’t just introduce his full self to you and expect you to be alright with everything he’s done. He has to ease you into his faults and hope that you’ll love him for him.

The first night when you asked him how often he goes to that shitty bar, he was passive. He answered your question without telling the full truth and he thinks that lately that’s all he’s been doing. When you asked him about his family… he was truthful.

His parents were loving, and he does have an older brother. Were they loving to him necessarily? He would have to say no, but you didn’t ask him for clarification. You simply asked about his family and he answered. Of course he left out the part where he was kicked out when he was 15 for getting into too many school fights. In his defense, thinking about that still hurts him.

It was obvious he’s always been a troubled kid but for his parents to just turn him away the second it gets too hard? They were fine with all those times he would steal the car or smoke behind the school building. What difference did it make when he put his hands on someone? Maybe they were upset he wasn’t more like his brother, his perfect brother.

Student council president.

Top of his class.

Accepted into the best schools.

Caring.

Jungkook could be caring. He’s proven it with you. He stepped in when you needed help, he offered you company when you were ditched by your so-called friends, he listened to every word you said with such devotion.

In the back of his mind he imagined his family, and how they would feel to know he’s finally found someone who cares about him. And yes, he’s aware his hyungs care about him but even then it feels superficial at times. Hoseok was partially at fault he got ran out of home. He was the one always helping Jungkook train and start problems when he felt like it.

But Hoseok was also the one to take him in. He’s the one to put clothes on his back and all Jungkook had to do was release all the pent up anger from over the years and win a fight for him. That’s it.

And he can’t act like it’s a burden. It’s gotten him money, and his gym studio [which wasn’t a lie], it’s gotten him opportunities he couldn’t imagine before. Plus, he’s an angry guy and it helps get it out of his system. Now all he can be is loving and sweet to the person that matters to him, you.

You were just so perfect to him and he can’t explain why.

There was a chance he wouldn’t get to see you today and it was eating at him. When he got home from some of his boxing lessons, the first thing he had done was call you to see what you were up to. You couldn’t even answer the phone because you were studying and only promised to call him when you were done. It’s been an hour now and he’s finding it hard to believe you’re still at the campus library.

As if the thought of you had magically made you reach out to him, his phone rang and he answered so quickly, “Hey.”

“Hey,” your voice sounded airy like you were exhausted, “I just got done and I’m about to leave now.”

“Really?” Jungkook shot out of bed, looking over at his dog, who lifted their head up with piqued interest, “Should I come over? Have you had dinner? I could pick something up on the way.”

“My place is a mess right now,” you admitted as you walked to the exit, “How about I come to your place this time? I’ve never been there and I want to see how my boyfriend lives.”

Jungkook looked around at his bedroom, “You want to come to mine?”

“Sure, why not, I’ll get to meet Bam and maybe get more of that homecoming of yours,” you were smiling, your playful tone making his heart flutter, “I mean it’s only fair.”

“I—okay,” Jungkook stood up, searching around for where to start, “But it’s nothing special. Are you going to spend the night?”

“I can, I just need to stop home and pack some things,” You told him, taking a right to the closest train station.

With the promise of you finally seeing his place, Jungkook grew frantic. It’s not like he lived in a dump, he was decently well off but… he doesn’t pay attention to it at all. He’s overly clean but it’s so spotless it doesn’t even look lived in. Your place was filled with things that reminded him of you. Books, vinyls, posters, even your choice in culinary set seemed exactly like you.

His place looked like a blank slate. All he had was the punching bag in the corner of his living room, the matching motorcycle helmets, and the now framed picture of you on his bedside.

When you were dropped off in front of the duplex, you weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. The place was big with a garage below the main floor you could only assume had his motorcycle and car parked. It was clean and well kept so when he answered the door, you hadn't expected anything less. Of course you didn’t expect it to be so bare either.

“Am I getting a tour?” You asked looking around the living room to a plain black couch, flat screen tv, dog bed, and punching bag. On the entrance table were your helmets but aside from that it felt pretty gloomy. Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Sure, uh, well you’ve seen the living room…”

He led you down an empty hall toward the master bedroom and stood at the doorway as you looked around. His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was worrying away at it the longer you looked around.

“Wait,” You walked off, sitting on the edge of his bed as you looked down at the frame, “This is cute. You need to get a look at me before falling asleep?”

“Obviously,” Jungkook tried to say with a relaxed chuckle as he joined you on the bed, “When I can’t get the real thing.”

“Well it’s nice to see I’ve made it as one of the very few essentials in your home design,” You joked, pulling him closer to the collar of his shirt, “It’s cute.”

“You're one of the few people who have ever said that to me,” Jungkook said with a chuckle, leaning into your touch and brushing his lips against yours.

“Good, let’s keep it that way,” you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly, “It sounds so cringy to say, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said. He took you to your classes before leaving to the gym earlier but it felt so long ago. He really did miss you and to hear you say the same things to him, it did things.

“So, I actually wanted to talk to you,” you mumbled between kisses, sitting up in his bed, “I’m going out with Sieun this weekend, but I just wanted to let you know.”

You waited to see how he’d respond, if he would act upset or annoyed. Most guys tend to get jealous and possessive but you were hoping he was different. You weren’t doing anything behind his back so it’s better to know where you stand now. If he asks to go out with his friends, you wouldn’t get upset, you’re only hoping he’ll feel the same.

“Sieun?” He questioned, looking away from you for a moment. The same bitch who chooses a guy over you? The one who seems boy crazy? “It’ll be fun, and just call me if you need anything.”

His response caught you by surprise but you tried not to dwell on it, a smile spreading on your lips as you hugged him, “Thank god, I thought you were going to be one of those guys that throws a fit whenever their girlfriend goes out without them. Can we take Bam for a walk now?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, simply smiled a tight smile and hugged you back.

He had been dreading the weekend. His friends were all on his line asking him to go out and get drunk with them but he was too nervous. He was too scared thinking about you and what you were doing to try and relax. Yoongi had to try and physically drag Jungkook out of his apartment and even that hadn’t been enough for him to ease up.

He loved going out with the guys, it usually entailed drinking, money, and some random girl to occupy his interest. Now all he could think about is where you were and what you were doing.

“Kook, come on you’re better than this,” Namjoon said as he tried to hand Jungkook back his darts, “What’s on your mind?”

“Y/n is out drinking with a friend of hers,” Jungkook said, checking his phone for any notification, “And she hasn’t called or texted me since she left.”

“Isn’t that good?” Hoseok asked with a chuckle, “She’s off doing her own thing and you’re doing your own. I’d kill to be with someone who wasn’t blowing up my phone anytime I’m out.”

“Seriously, I get about five texts from Jia everytime I’m out with you guys,” Yoongi said as he took a drink of his beer, “But I gotta say, I’m surprised you let her off her leash. I feel like lately, you’re latched to her side.”

Jungkook looked up from his phone with hardened eyes as he looked at his friend. He’s not sure what Yoongi meant by that but he didn’t like what he was possibly referring to you as.

“Whoa, careful there. Jungkook’s got actual feelings for Y/n, you can’t go calling her a bitch or anything,” Hoseok said jokingly. The two never held much respect for anyone but themselves but it never bothered Jungkook this much.

“Now I didn’t say that,” Yoongi responded with a laugh.

Namjoon watched as Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he was quick to try and intervene, “So how long has she been out? I feel like we just barely got you out of your house.”

“A couple hours now,” Jungkook said, choosing to ignore his other two friends, “She left long before I did.”

“Who knows, maybe she’ll be calling you up soon,” Namjoon said as he tapped his beer bottle against Jungkook’s, “Until then just try and let loose.”

Just as the sigh in agreement left Jungkook’s lips, his phone began to ring.

When you called him, telling him how much you wanted to see him, you hadn’t expected him to answer so quickly. All it took was for you to tell him the address of the club you were at before he was showing up in search for you. It was cute how quick he was to see you.

“You okay?” Was the first thing Jungkook asked when he found you among the mix of people. His arms circled your waist and you threw yours around his neck in greeting, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and nearly growing weak in the knees. He held you up with a strong arm as he looked around to who you were with.

“Yeah, I’m great, do you want a drink?” You asked, already trying to lead him to the bar but he shook his head no.

“I’m not drinking,” he said. He had barely drank half of one beer when you called and now that he’s seeing you, he’s decided it’s better he stays sober. You were very obviously intoxicated but not to the point where you were making a mess of yourself. He could just tell from the way your eyes glossed over and your slurred words. You called him to take care of you.

“Y/n,” Sieun called to you as she held up another shot, “One more.”

He watched you take it from her hands and down it back, scrunching your face in disgust as the warmth traveled down your throat. You chased it down with soda to wash away the taste and he held you upright. He didn’t want to sound pushy but he had to ask, “How much have you had already?”

“Not too much,” you said, leaning against him, “Five, maybe six drinks, Sieun?”

“And two shots,” Sieun said with a laugh as she looked up to Jungkook with curiosity in her gaze, “But come on Y/n, isn’t it time to finally introduce me to your new guy?”

You smiled, pulling Jungkook closer, “Right. Jungkook this is my best friend, Sieun. You might remember her from that first place we met and… Sieun, this is my boyfriend. Isn’t he so cute?”

“The cutest,” Sieun said looking at him, “You said I could sleep over right?”

You nodded your head, sniffling slightly as you blinked away your blurred vision. Jungkook held you tighter as he turned to look at you, “Are you ready to go?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, feeling the sense of nausea begin to set in.

“We’ve been drinking for a while, she might have had one too many at this point,” Sieun said to him but he wasn’t listening to her. Instead he was reading your face to see how you felt, “You want to go home baby?”

You gave a weak nod and it was all it took for Jungkook to step up. He led you out with your friend close on his trail and helped you into the front seat. He buckled you in and kept your head from rolling to the side while your friend got in the backseat.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Sieun said as Jungkook drove off, “You seem like a good guy.”

Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgment, silently driving to your place and taking your hand in his. Now that you weren’t standing and actively moving, your energy seemed to have died down. You looked tired now and he wondered if you were starting to get a headache.

“Was it just you two all night or did someone else join you?” Jungkook decided to ask. You were half asleep and he wanted to ask you instead but he was too impatient to wait. Plus, he didn’t want you thinking he was worried.

“Just us two, you should’ve joined us,” Sieun said from the backseat, “It would’ve probably been more fun.”

No it wouldn’t have. All Jungkook would be able to think about is how annoying he thought she was and it would be evident on his face.

“Next time,” Jungkook lied as he pulled up to your building. He turned the car off and walked to your side, opening your door and helping you up. When you raised your arms to him, he couldn’t help but lift you all the way to your apartment. He took your keys and unlocked your door, leaving it open for your friend to follow as he led you to your room.

“Kooky,” you whined, falling onto the bed and lifting your leg. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to help you out of your heels and get you into something else to sleep in.

He kind of liked that he was getting the chance to take care of you.

“Can you get me some water?” You asked, making yourself comfortable in your bed.

“Of course, Angel, I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said, softly caressing the side of your face before making his way out of the room. In all honesty, he had nearly forgotten Sieun was over until he was in the kitchen. She seemed to know where the extra blankets and pillows were and made her bed on the couch. She was in a skimpy dress and too tall of heels which she was struggling to get out of and looking at Jungkook, “Once again, thanks for picking us up.”

“Well I wasn’t just going to let Y/n find another way home,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as he opened your cabinet for a glass. He had already assumed he’d be picking you up if Sieun ditched you.

“You know, you’re a lot cuter than I remember,” she said with a laugh as she kicked her heels off. She got up from her spot and made her way to the kitchen as Jungkook filled your glass, “It’s a shame, Y/n found you first.”

Jungkook couldn’t stop the curl of his lips in disgust as he processed what she was saying. He looked over at her, “Meaning?”

“I just mean… you’re not usually Y/n’s type,” Sieun tried to say, her drunken speech more prominent, “I saw you that first night too.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Was that before or after you laughed when those guys called her a bitch?”

“They were joking, and I told them off after,” Sieun said, invading his space to grab a cup for herself, “But it was kind of hot how quick you were to jump in.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at her in disbelief. He couldn’t believe she was trying to hit on him while you were in the other room. He was finding her more and more disgusting.

“You’re kind of a slut, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked with a slight chuckle, seeing her taken back expression.

“Excuse me?” She asked, her cocky smile gone as he insulted her suddenly.

“You. You’re a slut, right? I mean that’s what I’ve picked up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, “Why else would you be trying to hit on your friend’s boyfriend in her house?”

“I wasn’t h-hi—“

“You weren’t?” Jungkook asked, “So should I just get Y/n out here so she could listen to you too?”

Sieun had nothing to say at this point. She had in fact been hitting on him, or at least trying to see how far her teasing could go before he stopped it but she didn’t expect to be called out like this. Jungkook didn’t seem to care that she stopped and had begun to think about what was going on as he continued, “Now, if you ask me, I can’t tell you why she would want to be friends with a trashy whore like you but I guess that’s not for me to figure out. All I can really tell you is to stay out of my fucking way and don’t bother talking to me again.”

With that, he left her alone in the kitchen trying to process what had just happened.

“I think I drank too much,” you whined tiredly when your boyfriend made his way back into your bedroom. An amused smile pulled at his lips as he handed you the glass of water and sat on your side of the bed, “I’m never drinking again.”

“Okay,” he whispered, only half-believing you and smoothing his hand down your side when you groaned about a headache, “Did you at least have fun?”

Jungkook just seemed to be too good to be true. You had never met, much less been with, a guy who seemed to have everything together the way he did and it was still hard for you to understand it. Not to mention the fact that he treated you so well and always has since you first met, it’s just hard to believe. What was his deal?

Maybe you were being paranoid and thinking that something bad was bound to happen soon but that had to be the case. Never once has anything ever worked out for you as well as your relationship with Jungkook has and you can’t let it go. You’ve been with him for weeks and he hasn’t made a single slip up.

He always texts back fast, and calls you when he’s free. He’s always putting effort to see you and just takes care of you over all. He does a bunch of little things that make your heart flutter like bringing home whatever sweet you told him was your favorite, or cooking you something for dinner when you’re not in the mood to do it yourself. He lets you pick the movie or song and rarely makes you pay unless you beg him to and he’s always showing how much of his attention he has.

He's too perfect, sure there’s still some things you don’t know about him but he’ll tell you over time, hopefully.

“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” Jimin asked over lunch on Friday. The cafeteria was full with college students and the two of you occupied a small table close to a window.

“I have to work but if I can get off early then I might,” You admitted, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram. You looked up at the third chair beside you and asked, “Where’s Sieun? I feel like she’s been M.I.A for the last couple of days.”

“I don’t know, she probably forgot she had a project due and is doing some last minute work on it,” Jimin said with a shrug, noting her absence, “Or she’s tired of seeing you all lovey dovey when she can’t keep a guy around.”

“Don’t start with your little remarks, Chimmy,” you waved a playful finger at him, “Sieun is happy doing what she wants.”

“Yeah but that’s because it’s her only choice. Do you think if someone showed actual interest, she wouldn’t want to settle down?” Jimin asked, making you look at him skeptically. You didn’t want to talk about Sieun behind her back but he made you think.

“I don’t know, it’s not in her character, I don’t even know what kind of guy she likes,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed to say. Assholes.

She usually likes the bad guys.

“Do you think she’ll go later?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Probably, Jin’s gonna be there and some other guys she’ll want to flirt with so I don’t see why she’d miss it,” Jimin said, watching you begin to pack up your things as you finished eating. He followed suit and the two of you carried your trays to the drop-off station.

You rolled your eyes at what he said but didn’t deny any of it and looked at the time on your screen, “I’ve gotta get to my lecture but I’ll see you later?”

Jimin waved you off with a goodbye, letting you run off in one direction while he took the other and left the lunch room alone.

“Where’s Y/n?”

The scream he let out was high-pitched and squeamish, he had a hand supporting his beating heart as he looked at Sieun with widened eyes, “Don’t sneak up on people like that. She left to her next class, why? You avoiding her?”

He meant it as a joke, not caring much if the two of you talked either way. He can’t count the amount of times he has to pick sides between your arguments. He usually bounces between you until one of you says something he agrees with and waits for everything to be square for the three of you to talk again. Sieun bit her lip instead of responding and that was a clear give away that you were.

“Why?”

“I mean, I’m not avoiding Y/n, like I’m not mad at her or anything,” Sieun said as she walked with Jimin, “I just… I don’t know ever since she started dating Jungkook—“

“Oh, fuck no, I don’t want to hear it,” Jimin said with a laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I’m not! I mean I was, but I’m not. I swear,” Sieun confessed, “He creeps me out.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with piqued interest. Sieun let out a sigh as she shook her head, “I don’t know he just seems… intense.”

And cruel.

And brutally honest.

And aggressive.

Jimin couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together with confusion as he looked at her, tempted to ask her to elaborate. Before he could even think to ask her to explain, she was quick to say, “I just want to know if he’s coming tonight.”

“I don’t think so,” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks, “What’s up with you? Did something happen?”

“No,” Sieun rushed, “But I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you later?”

Jungkook had canceled his plans tonight for your sake. He had decided to tell Namjoon he wouldn’t be fighting so that the two of you can spend time together and he could possibly bring up the thought of his fights to you. He needed to think about what he could lie about still and what you should know. If you handled the idea of these ‘sanctioned events’ then maybe you’d be fine with him doing them. Maybe you’ll want to see one live and clean up his wounds after. He was trying to think of every possible outcome before bringing them up to you.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to tell him you have plans that didn’t involve him at all.

“So you’re going out?” Jungkook asked as you talked over FaceTime. You had him set up on the computer as you sat around your part time job doing nothing but talking to him.

“Not really, I’m just meeting up with some seniors for dinner. We’re all good friends, you can come if you want. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,” You told him, flipping through some magazine you pretended to browse. You weren’t paying close attention to his facial expression and the way it hardened.

“Are there gonna be guys there?” He tried to sound casual like he didn’t care either way but his nails dug into his palm the longer it took you to answer. Usually, he doesn’t ask you these sort of things. He always quietly accepts whatever you tell him so you’re a bit surprised.

“A few, but Sieun is going, and there’s a few seniors who aren’t guys going too,” You told him honestly, waiting for him to say something but he just stayed silent. It made you pay closer attention to him and his tensed jaw.

“Didn’t you go out last weekend?” Jungkook asked with a clear of his throat, “I was kind of hoping we could do something together later.”

“I mean, you can come along,” You tried to reason with him but his tone was slightly different. He seemed annoyed that you had plans and now you’re trying to avoid making him upset.

“Maybe I don’t want to tag along with your friends, maybe I just want to spend the night with you and no one else,” Jungkook said, his tone sounding harsher than earlier, “I didn’t realize I’d have to schedule time to see my girlfriend.”

A light scoff left your lips as you took in what he said, “You don’t, and we saw each other last night and this morning so why are you making it such a big deal that I want to go out with my friends? I haven’t seen some of them in months.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a moment and the longer he stayed silent, the more anxious you got. You didn’t want him upset with you but at the same time it's not like you’re constantly leaving him for someone else. He’s with you nearly every night. You talk to him at nearly every point of the day so what's the big deal that you have plans tonight? Finally, you heard him release a sigh through the phone, and muttered out, “Whatever, have fun.”

The call ended abruptly and for the first time since you started seeing him, he seemed to be upset with you.

He threw his phone down on his bed trying his hardest to not seem as bothered as he clearly was. To him it was complete bullshit and he couldn’t understand you at all. Why did it feel like he was the only one putting effort to be in a relationship? Was it his lack of true experience because he seriously thought he was doing fine. He treated you well and never got mad at you but you’re making it hard for him to keep playing nice. He doesn't give a shit about your friends and who you haven’t seen in how long. You haven’t made a single effort to meet his friends or know what he likes to do so it all just seems really fucking unfair.

Here he is trying to be a better person for you and you don’t even seem to care. Instead you would rather go be with anyone but him and. He was not just going to let that happen.

With shaky fingers, he made a call to Namjoon, and retracted his previous statement because he changed his mind. He will go and fight tonight since clearly there’s no reason for him to try and be better for you when you couldn’t care less about him.

It’s not like you could forget the fact that he was most likely upset with you now but you also weren’t going to miss out with your friends. It made you feel selfish but at the same time… you were with him this morning. He slept in your bed and maybe you should have told him you had plans that had been set for some time now but you didn’t think it mattered. He had seemed alright with every other time you were out so why was he so bothered this time around? Plus, you didn’t lie to him. You really are just going to get dinner with some old classmates of yours so is there any real reason for him to be upset by it?

“So I’ve heard you’re seeing someone, have I ever met him?” Your friend, Jin, asked over dinner. You were quiet for the most part, still thinking about Jungkook that when you finally got to the restaurant where everyone else had been waiting for you, you hadn’t made any talk with anyone. You didn’t want to be one of those people that brings your relationship problems out for everyone else to have to go through and maybe you were already overthinking it, but you didn’t want to talk about Jungkook right now.

“No, he’s uh, we met at a bar,” You said simply, stuffing your face with whatever was in front of you. Jin let his brows furrow and asked, “Is he good to you?”

”Yeah,” You said honestly. Jungkook really was good to you and its making you realize that you were probably in the wrong tonight. You should have canceled on your friend because it was so obvious that he wanted to do something together but instead you chose to be stubborn and have it your way, “He’s amazing.”

Jin looked surprised, and turned to Jimin and Sieun, “And what do you guys think about him?”

He’s always been like this, probably because he met you when you were new to the area and showed you around. He’s always had a tendency to act like an older brother with you which you were thankful for until it came to whoever you chose to date. He rarely took your word for it like you’d lie to save face of whatever asshole you’re seeing.

Jimin looked at Sieun, remembering the way she acted with you earlier. She said she’s not avoiding you but she’s made it a point to talk to everyone but you tonight and now that Jin’s looking to her, she can't ignore it any longer. He, himself, does not have much of an opinion on your boyfriend. He knows that he looked pissed off when Jimin hugged you goodbye that one time, but he might’ve dragged it on to push his button too. He doesn't have anything to say about the guy but Sieun made him question if there was something going on there.

She’s been acting strange and he wonders if Jungkook has something to do with it, but his mind goes to the wrong thing. He has to tell himself that Sieun would never do anything that could put you in a bad spot like going after your boyfriend but he cant help and wonder if that’s why she’s been stand-offish with you all day. He doesn't know Jungkook but is he the kind of guy to fool around with his girlfriend’s best friend?

Jimin looked at Sieun expectantly, waiting for her to respond and she shifted her gaze away nervously, “H-He’s cool. He seems to care a lot about Y/n.”

”So are we going out after this or what?” Someone asked from across the table, “It’s a Friday night, we should be out getting shitfaced already.”

”Let us at least finish our food, Tae, not everyone wants to drink more on an empty stomach,” Jin said with a laugh as he pushed your full plate close to you, “Right, Y/n?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I might call it a night when we get done here,” You said, checking your phone to see if you had any missed call or text from your boyfriend.

“Y/n, you can’t,” Another senior classmate, Yuna, said as she called for you, “I haven’t seen you in so long and Jinnie has been hogging up all your attention. Just one drink, yeah?”

“Her boyfriend wont let her, I bet, does he always tell you what to do?” Cai asked with a laugh making you roll your eyes. Once dinner came to an end, you tried calling Jungkook but he didn’t answer, instead the call went straight to voicemail and you were dragged out to another bar.

Jungkook hadn’t been in the mood when he got onto the fighting mats. It was obvious on his face that he didn’t care much for how to fight fair, he cared more about getting his hands on someone and that made him scarier. It’s kind of alarming how one person can affect his mood for everyone else to deal with, especially when it meant fighting someone till he felt like stopping or was dragged off of them.

That’s evidently what had to have happened. His opponent was on the ground, coughing up blood and tapping on the mat wanting it to end but Jungkook just grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him up once more. The guy made a gurgling sound, surprise making him choke on his words and fell hard with a thud when Jungkook pushed him down once more. He kept him down with his hands in tight fists until the bell rang and Hoseok was hopping over to pull him up. Once again, Jungkook was a winner.

“Atta boy,” Hoseok said with a grin as he was made winner and followed after him and Namjoo to the locker room. Jungkook was tired and annoyed that he couldn’t even celebrate his win, even if Namjoon held the stack of money he won from not only the match but the betting too.

“Are you taking us out to celebrate, big winner,” Yoongi asked, the three oblivious to how silent Jungkook has been all night.

“No,” Jungkook said as he threw on a hoodie, feeling a tinge of paid on his shoulder from one of the times the guy was lucky enough to land a hit on him. He would surely raise but it wasn’t dislocated—he doesn't think.

“He’s probably tired of us and wants to go see his girl,” Namjoon said with a chuckle, handing Jungkook his portion of the money and letting him walk off on his own. Jungkook ignored the crowds of people congratulating him and got on his bike, slipped on his helmet and drove home.

He connected his dead phone to its charger before heading to shower and wash off the grime of fighting, the sweat and blood that came with it and try to rid himself of anger too. The whole time he was fighting, he couldn’t seem to let the thought of you go. It really did annoy the shit out of him how it felt like he wasn’t a priority in your life. How it seemed like he was the last one you think about while you’re at the front and center of his. It was unfair. You were probably off sitting at a table with your friends, not even caring about him at all.

When he got in bed he hoped you’d be calling him some time soon. He didn’t want to end the night without talking to you but he didn’t want to call you either. If he called you, then once again he would be the one putting effort into talking and you wouldn’t even care. So instead, he laid in bed with his feet hanging off the bed and his bruised arm thrown across his chest.

He thought about sleeping it off and just talking to you in the morning instead. That way he wasn’t annoyed by your absence anymore and he could talk to you when he was more level-headed but that thought head been instantly thrown out the window by what he found out.

At first, Jungkook didn’t want to believe the picture that was on his screen. If he believed it then he would have to come to accept that you lied to him and that was hard for him to swallow. Maybe he was overreacting, but then he thought about the way his chest tightened, his ribs squeezed around his heart, and his insides churned uncomfortably the longer he looked at it. The veins around his forearm protrude with the force he was applying on his phone, worried the screen would crack or he’d do something to make it stop working.

He needed it to work if he wanted his questions answered. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he went back to his messages, fingers trembling as he typed with urgency.

jungkook: y/n said she was just going to dinner.

hoseok: 😬looks like she lied to u

He had to read over the words twice, three times almost as he tried to think about what Hoseok was saying. You had no reason to lie to him and you both knew it. The two of you were supposed to be working on your relationship and it isn’t good for one of you to lie to the other. It was wrong, very wrong and he did not like being lied to.

Especially not when he couldn’t understand why you would want to lie to him. Even if he had been annoyed you were going out, you didn’t have to lie. You said you were going to dinner but you said nothing about going to the club, especially not with guys around you. Is that why you lied to him? Is that why you told him you would just be grabbing dinner? So that he wouldn’t have to think about the guys you would be drinking with and laughing with like you didn’t care about the boyfriend you ditched?

You were such a fucking liar. He sent one final text to Hoseok, asking where this was and it was the last thing he did before he got out of bed to find out for himself what you were up to.

“How come we’re always the last one’s to know you’re seeing someone?” Cai asked with a chuckle as he stood with you to the side while the others talked loudly about some old professor everyone shared, “Is it because I’m old? Be honest.”

“Oh my god, no, plus you’re still younger than Jin,” You laughed, “And because it kind of just happened. I don’t know, I haven’t been seeing Jungkook for long but he’s honestly great. When you meet him you’ll like him.”

”Well why didn’t you drag him out tonight?” Cai asked, slurring on his words a bit, “It would’ve been nice to meet my competition.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully. It isn’t the first time Cai has made comments like that but you always brush them off. He was talking to talk, he never meant anything by it and everyone knew it, “I should probably get going soon though, I've been gone longer than I told him I’d be.”

“Who cares, you’re with your friends its not like you’re doing anything wrong,” Cai said pulling at your arm to keep you next to him, “We haven’t had a chance to catch up in forever, he’ll be fine.”

A sigh left your lips as you looked down at your phone to see if he’s messaged you yet but there was nothing. It made you wonder just how upset he was with you and in the end, all you wanted to do was leave and go find him, “I think I should go.”

”Y/n,” Cai drunkenly whined as you began walking away but something stopped you and it wasn’t the arm Cai was holding onto you with. Just a couple yards away, your boyfriend’s familiar cold stare was directed to the person at your side and you couldn’t think fast enough. How did he know where you were? Ours not sure, everything happened so fast and that had been the last thing on your mind.

”Jungkook,” you called out to him as he stormed past you and with a closed fist, hit Cai straight on the jaw. The punch had him stumbling back into the bar table behind him and falling to the floor with a hand on his bleeding face. You cringed with shock as Jungkook kicked his side making Cai curl his body into a ball to stop the hitting but Jungkook didn’t stop.

“Stop!” You cried out, wanting it to end but unsure how to make that happen when Jungkook got on top of him and delivered clear blows to your friend’s face with a relentless amount of strength that not even Jin could put a stop to. A crowd had begun to crowd and bouncer’s were trying to make their way through but some guys you faintly remember hanging around Jungkook got to him first. It took both Namjoon and Hoseok to pull Jungkook off and even then he was fighting against their hold.

You were shaking with worry as you watched Yuna crouch down next to Cai who was covered in blood, you looked at Jungkook who was just seeing red and without thinking, you followed him out, uttering out apologies to all your friends as you did so.

”What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked him as Hoseok dragged him all the way outside.

“Get in your car and go before the cops show up,” He told him, speaking over you like what you said didn’t matter but Jungkook wasn’t listening to him.

“I thought you were just going to dinner!” Jungkook said angrily, sweat coating his hair as he yelled angrily, “Instead I find out you’re getting close with some other guy as if you don’t have a fucking boyfriend!”

“What are you talking about?” You felt like crying as you watched his friends keep him from getting too close to you, “He’s my frien—“

”Right, everyone is just your fucking friend, Y/n. So explain this,” Jungkook showed you his phone screen and your heart nearly dropped. It was a picture of you from inside the club with Cai’s arms around your waist. It had been two seconds of hi trying to get you to dance with him before everyone told him to keep his hands to himself but of course th picture made it look a hundred times worse than it was. You would never cheat on Jungkook nor give anyone the wrong idea and before this mess had happened, you were planning on leaving them and going to him.

“I tried to call you,” you attempted to say but Jungkook wasn’t listening, “Jungkook, you just attacked my friend, do you get that?”

”Oh fuck off, Y/n, why is your friend all over you when you have a boyfriend? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You lied to me, you ditched me for all of them—“

”That doesn't mean you put your hands on someone!” You yelled back in anger, “It feels like I don't even know you.”

You thought he was sweet. He was calm and caring and although you had wondered if he was scary, you never believed it. He was always so soft it’s you but right now… right now you watched him beat your friend to a pulp and h didn’t look sorry at all. If anything he looked ready for more.

Sirens were going off in the distance, surely coming in this direction and you took a step back from him,”We’re done.”

“What?” Jungkook asked, genuinely surprised, “Y/n—“

”Jungkook come on man, you can't get arrested again,” Namjoon said trying to pull his friend back and you didn’t miss what he implied. This wouldn’t be the first time he would get arrested and it just solidified how little you thought you knew about him.

“Get off me,” Jungkook pushed at his best friend as you began to walk away from him, “Y/n!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around as you headed back inside, ignoring the way he yelled out for you and looked for your friends.

It took two days for him to do something. You left him alone outside some nightclub while he called out for you and you never turned back. You didn’t answer his calls or texts and he waited. He waited two entire days for you to cool off and talk to him. In reality, he felt as though he should’ve been the one ignoring you. This happened because you didn’t prioritize him.

Now, you’ve tried to toss him aside like he didn’t matter to begin with and that is what bothered him the most.

He doesn’t give a fuck about your friends or the guy he left to bleed out on the ground. He cared about you and how you comforted someone else while he was dragged home by his friends. And even with how angry he was at you for trying to end it with him he still gave you time to get over it. He let you ignore him. He gave you the choice and now you’re taking advantage of it. Why are you doing this to him?

“I don’t know man, it was bad, you kind of went crazy,” Yoongi tried to tell him as he watched Jungkook bench press over his weight. The two were at the gym with Yoongi trying to get Jungkook out of this mood he’s been stuck in since Friday. He had this anger in him that wouldn’t disappear and the other night he was so mad, not only at the fighting match but at the club too and he should’ve stopped him. It’s not like none of them saw the signs, it had been so obvious before the fight that Jungkook was upset. Hoseok should’ve never shown him that picture.

“I was fine,” Jungkook muttered under his breath between counting his set, “Do I not have a right to be upset when another guy is grabbing at my girlfriend?”

Ex girlfriend, Yoongi thought but he pushed it aside as he spotted for Jungkook and made sure the barbell was put back into its holder when he sat up, “I didn’t say that but… don’t you think you’ve been taking things too far lately? What happened to that Minho guy?”

“Who cares? I’m tired of these people trying so hard to ruin what I’ve built with Y/n,” Jungkook huffed, “I love Y/n and she loves me too, alright? I’ve never felt this way for anyone else and I’m not going to let these fucking… pieces of shit take away the one thing I have ever wanted. You think I want Y/n to be scared of what I’ll do? Do you think I want her to push me away? No! She has to know that I love her so much I’ll do anything to make sure no one hurts her or gets in our way. That’s it.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what to say anymore. He would never do anything to go against his friend, he’s known him too long and knows too much about what the kid has gone through to ever turn against him but… for the first time, he truly believed something was seriously wrong with Jungkook.

“Is he really okay?” You asked Jin as he joined you for lunch on Monday.

“He’s alright, just a broken nose I guess,” Jin said to the three, “He said he’s not mad, y’know.”

“I know, but I just can’t look at him without feeling guilty,” You admitted, Cai had texted you he was alright after your dozen apologies but you haven’t gone to see him yet.

When you had gotten back inside, everyone was gone and off helping Cai up. Jin took him to the hospital because he didn’t want to deal with the cops either and Yuna and Sieun went with. The only one that had stayed behind was Jimin, hoping you’d be back and away from Jungkook. He took you home and you haven’t been able to see Cai since.

You just couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Jungkook was… he was like a stranger to you. The nice guy you had met was gone and replaced with some monster and it was hard for you to grasp.

Was this the same guy who stuck up for you when Jisoo was upset you rejected him?

The same guy who made you a custom helmet and whined whenever you left bed? He carried you home after a night drinking and took care of you without complaint. Was this really the same guy you saw ignoring the obvious egging of that stranger at the restaurant?

“I swear I’ve never seen Jungkook act like that,” you sighed, biting your bottom lip with worry, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Have you talked to him?” Jimin asked from your side.

“No,” you gasped in shock, “Obviously not, I— he’s tried contacting me but I’m not responding. He broke Cai’s nose.”

“I was just asking,” Jimin said with a shoulder shrug, “The guy’s a psychopath the way he just showed up and did that. He’s dangerous.”

Part of you wanted to deny that and say that Jungkook wasn’t dangerous at all but you can’t. You’re aware something is off about the way he acted and you couldn’t ignore it.

But he reacted so calmly when that guy at the restaurant was trash talking him. He didn’t even look at him and when you asked if he was alright, he said he was fine. How could he assault Cai without wasting a second to think it over? What made this instance different from the other guy? The other guy was actually saying things to get under Jungkook’s while Cai was just being his usual self but photographed in the wrong moment.

“Does anyone remember the news a couple weeks ago? Some guy was hurt in his own home?” You suddenly asked, “Who knows his name?”

“What?” Jin asked with confusion at the change of subject. He wondered if you were still uncomfortable talking about Jungkook and wanted an escape, “Kim Minho or something.”

Don’t ask why you suddenly thought of that but it had been at such an odd time. You had just been having dinner around that neighborhood and suddenly from somewhere around there someone was attacked. You didn’t think of it much back then but now with the way Jungkook had acted with Cai, it made you wonder.

“Alright, well I told Yuna I’d pick her up from work so I should probably get going,” Jin said as he stood up looking at you, “Are you gonna be okay?”

You gave him a brief nod as Jimin stood up too, asking for a quick ride with and it left you alone with Sieun faster than either of you realized. You talked a little during the dinner on Friday but it feels different lately, like she doesn’t want to be around you. Even when Jungkook attacked Cai, she didn’t message you and only tagged along when Jimin made her. It was strange.

“So are you mad at me?” You asked her. Sieun wasn’t looking at you but at the front of the cafe window trying to avoid your stare when you caught her off guard.

“No.”

“Really? It just feels like you’ve been acting different with me lately,” you said, “Is it because of Jungkook? Because of what happened on Friday?”

“It’s not tha—well, I don’t know Y/n. Jungkook seems… he seems like a violent person,” she said to you, “A-nd he doesn’t deserve you and neither do I.”

You looked at her with a sudden racing heart, “Neither do you? What do you mean?”

Her silence alarmed you and it was hard for you to ignore the nervous bite of her bottom lip and shifty eyes, “Did something happen between you guys?”

Now was the time to tell you, while you were still bothered by Jungkook. You had no idea what would come out of her mouth but knowing your friend and her history, it made you worried to find out. You already didn’t want to see him but if something happened between the two of them you can’t imagine it wouldn’t hurt you.

Sieun shook her head, “No. No—I mean, not what you think, but I was drunk and—“

“You slept with him?” You asked, tired of the way she kept stumbling over her words. She needed to just spit it out at this point. What was she trying to say?

“No, but I… Y/n, you’re my best friend and I know what I did was wrong but I did try and flirt with him—he turned me down fast! B-but, I don’t know, he just said some really hurtful shit,” Sieun said with her head down like she was too embarrassed to admit her wrongs.

“So… you were hitting on my boyfriend while sleeping over at my house and he said something that hurt your feelings?” Your tone was cold and distant like you want to sympathize with her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, “What did he say?”

“Nothing, I mean, he called me a slut and a trashy whore and basically told me to fuck off—understandable! I’m really sorry, Y/n, I was drunk,” she practically cried, “I don’t know, he was kind of scary and then seeing what he did to Cai…”

You didn’t say anything and it scared her. Obviously she’s well aware she made a mistake the night she slept over at your place and she seriously regrets it. She wished she wasn’t like this and she doesn’t want you to think you can’t trust her but Jungkook is intense and she doesn’t want you around him.

“Y/n—“

“I should go, I’m gonna be late to my last class,” you finally said with a sigh, raising from the table with your things and ignoring the way she called for your name. To be honest, you just weren’t sure how to take that. Part of you doesn’t want to care because of what Jungkook did to Cai and how it’s better that you just don’t talk to him again… but at the same time, you did have feelings for Jungkook. You wish you could say they disappeared the second he acted like someone you didn’t know but that wouldn’t be the truth at all.

You still want to be with Jungkook and that’s why it hurts you that he put his hands on someone you consider a friend. Not to mention what Sieun said hurt you more than you would like to admit. She’s supposed to be your friend and you know her habits but to find out she would do something behind your back to try and get with your then boyfriend… it doesn’t sit right with you at all.

And it’s annoying how much you missed Jungkook.

jungkook: can we talk

jungkook: ik u don’t want to see me but I miss u

jungkook: u haven’t talked to me in days

jungkook: im sorry

jungkook: can i come over to talk?

Days.

He watched days go past him and you still wouldn’t talk to him. It was getting ridiculous at this point and it was harder for him to be patient. Did you seriously mean it when you said it was over? Did you think he’d just let you walk away from him and have to suffer knowing you won’t talk to him ever again?

Not once since the two of you have met did he think he gave you any reason to want to end things with him and it’s hard for him to believe you’ll end it over something like this. He was upset that you lied to him after knowing he was already upset about you going out and then you dump him like he was in the wrong?

Frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck about what happened to your friend. He doesn’t care if the two of you were close or if he beat him on the floor till he was dragged off him. He doesn’t care if the guy is suffering or if your relationship with him is cut. You are with Jungkook, he should’ve been your first priority the same way you are his. He shouldn’t have to worry about other guys wanting to get with you. He’s loyal to you and he deserves the same so how is it his fault that he reacted in such a way? The picture was enough proof that you didn’t have boundaries with the people around you and all he did was help you set them. Why are you so upset with him because of it?

And it wasn’t fair for you to ignore him and not want to hear his side of things, it bothered him more than anything. He tried being patient, tried giving you time and not show up at your door every hour but he was left with no other option. It’s been hours since he pulled up to your apartment, waiting to see what time you would get home and it’s beginning to get to him.

To be clear, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with what he’s doing. He’s just decided that he’s going to make sure you have no choice but to talk to him. That’s why he’s been in his car across the street waiting to see what time you’ll be home so he could knock on the door.

What he hadn’t expected was to see you walk to the entrance with a guy at your side.

He told himself not to react. All he needed to do was sit back and wait for you to be alone. He didn’t want to think about who this person was and judging by the work attire—a coworker, he assumed—nor did he want to overthink it. You weren’t standing too close to him or looking too happy talking to him and Jungkook had to remind himself that the longer the two of you stood at your door talking. He was not jealous.

Seriously.

You can talk to whoever you want but while he can’t sleep over the fact that you tried breaking up with him, you seem completely fine. Maybe his vision is skewed but why don’t you seem as affected as he does? Why is he the one feeling tossed aside? Is it because he’s always put in more effort? He continues to put in more effort. And despite it all, you would rather spend your time talking and with literally anyone but him. That’s what he was mad about.

So he sat in his car and waited for the guy to leave and all he could think about was how he would storm over there and make you talk to him and try to work things out. He was going to make you forgive him because he can’t stand being away from you or seeing you with anyone else.

When the moment was right, he got out of his car, crossed the street to enter your building, and knocked on your door.

Your vision of him through the peephole was warped but there was no denying that was your ex boyfriend and you couldn’t contain the drop in your face. For some reason, since Jungkook hadn’t shown up at your place crying for you back, you hadn’t taken him as the type but now here he was, leaning his hand against the door looking through the peephole and waiting for you to let him in.

You were stuck between inviting him in or ignoring him further but you were too curious. You haven’t wanted to even think about Jungkook because you knew you would struggle being around him but you also wanted to see him. You missed him and everything you’ve heard should make you run but you can’t just forget he exists. You don’t want to and he’s tired of letting you.

“It’s late,” you said, using little effort to turn him away.

“I just want to talk,” Jungkook said, looking down the hall with worry, “You’ve been ignoring me.”

He said it so nonchalantly like he didn’t care either way and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Because we’re not together anym—“

“Says who? You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself, baby,” Jungkook said, circling the door handle and testing to see if it was locked.

You bit back a scoff in disbelief, swinging the door open in anger and barking back, “Defend yourself against what? I literally watched you attack my friend for no reason.”

“I know, I was out of line,” Jungkook pushed the door open, stepping in quickly before you could regret opening it and closing it behind him, “But… you lied to me. You knew I wanted us together that night and you chose your friends and then you lied about what you would be doing. I even told you how uncomfortable I felt for you to be with other guys when I’m not around and you lied and did it behind my back anyway. Do I not have a reason to be upset?”

“Then, you want to ignore me and act like I don’t matter at all and you expect me to just be okay with that?” He went on, his tone growing harsher the longer he went on, “I’m just supposed to stand back and let you throw me away when I’ve done nothing but try and show you how I’ve felt about you since the very beginning? How is that fair, Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, hand touching your forehead to ease an approaching headache as you tried to wrap your mind around everything he was saying. You also didn’t expect to suddenly be put on blast and have to deal with the mess that happened.

“I… you broke his nose—how did you even—how’d you know where I wa—you were so angry! It was scary, I’m sorry for lying but I was going to tell you. I tried calling you and you didn’t pick up!” You stumbled over your words, pacing your living room as you tried to talk, “And either way it doesn’t mean you put your hands on someone.”

He wanted to just scream at you and tell you to forget that. Forget your stupid fucking friend.

“Y/n, please, it was a mistake,” he tried to even out his tone and sound calmer, trying a different route to talk to you and get you to sit with him at least, “And I’ll apologize everyday if I have to but please don’t leave me because of it. I—I wasn’t thinking and all I saw was some guy talking to my girlfriend and trying to get touchy.”

“It was scary,” you admitted, warily as he sat down, taking your hand and trying to guide you to sit too, “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I know, and you don’t know how much I regret acting that way but I can’t deal with you ignoring me either, sit down please,” he said in a soft, calming tone. You reluctantly let him pull you down, sitting about a foot away from him.

Honestly, Cai had been acting a little too touchy that night but he was supposed to be one of your good friends and you were just going to move on and play it off like his usual self. It is one of those moments where you could understand why Jungkook was bothered, you do have a lot of guy friends and clearly not all have the best intentions. Does that still give him a right to do what he did? No, but… maybe Cai deserved it a little.

He’s the one who insisted on going out for a drink after dinner. He’s the one who stayed by your side majority of the night and begged you to stay. You’re still not sure how Jungkook knew exactly where you were or what picture but now you could only assume someone he knew spotted you. Maybe it looked like you were playing him for another guy and it sucks that you can understand why that would bother him.

Cai isn’t even mad still, of course he thinks you broke it off with Jungkook [which you did!] but how would he feel to know you’re sitting so close to him after feeling so sorry for your friend?

A sigh escaped your lips as you felt yourself slowly giving in to Jungkook and felt his arms down at your waist trying to pull you even close. You were being stubborn and making it hard for him to move you but he didn’t mind putting in the extra effort, he can just see your walls beginning to break down again, “Y/n, please baby, just stop ignoring me.”

You let him pull you onto his lap and even went as far as circling your arm around his shoulders for support as you said, “Why do you know how to fight so well?”

Your question took him off guard but he wasn’t going to act phased by it, instead he took a deep breath and decided he should be honest, “I box, remember? At the gym, a-and make a little money on the side from it.”

“Is that what you do when you hang with your friends?” You asked and he shook his head no.

“No, I wanted to put it behind me but the other night I went to fight because you wanted to go get dinner,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Y/n, I will put it all in the past if you take me back.”

“And what about what your friend said? About how you can’t go to jail again?” You asked abruptly, shifting away from him just slightly and his arms tightened at your waist, “Why are you keeping things from me but expecting me to be honest?”

“Because it’s different,” Jungkook answered bitterly, “I’m keeping things that I’m embarrassed of from you. There’s parts of me I’m too scared to show you and I don’t want you to run away from me, please. I know I have to work on things but I’ve been trying. I’ve been nothing but caring to you and I don’t think it’s fair that my past, of all things, is what pushes you away. I can’t change the things I’ve done but please, Y/n, I’ll be better. I swear it.”

You debated bringing up the Sieun part now that you’ve thought about it better but honestly, there’s nothing to mention. Obviously you hate any sort of slut shaming but she tried to get with your boyfriend. Jungkook chose questionable wording to turn her down but she shouldn’t have thrown herself at him in the first place, right? You decided you won’t stop talking to Sieun over it because as it seems, your boyfriend turned her down pretty fine on his own and it makes you want to trust him so it’s only right he’s able to trust you when you’re with guys, right? You’re going to continue to talk to Sieun but for now on you’re gonna keep her far from whoever you’re seeing because clearly she doesn’t respect you enough to stay away in her own. There’s just too many factors into being her friend or not and you don’t want to jeopardize your friendship with others because of it.

At some point throughout your rampant thoughts, Jungkook’s soft touch on your thigh hadn’t been enough to snap you out of your daze until you felt it travel higher than before.

“Think about it baby,” Jungkook said, thankful that today was like every other day where you wore your pretty little skirts that made it so easy for his hand to find where it wanted to go. Now, his rough fingers were grazing along the softness of your thigh teasingly, “How good are we together? Have I ever treated you wrong?”

You didn’t say anything, quite literally feeling where this was going and stuck between putting a stop to it and letting it go on. He placed a soft kiss against your shoulder blade, “And you’ve missed me too, I know you have so why act like we don’t belong together?”

He felt the way a gasp caught in your throat as his hand disappeared just under your skirt, teasing your inner thighs now. Your hand fell over his as though you’d push him away if he took it too far but you didn’t. You let the tip of his middle finger press against your pantie clad heat testing to see how far he could go before you stopped him. He just can’t help it, he really had missed you so much and he hasn’t been able to see or touch you in so long. How was he supposed to hold himself back when you’re sitting on his lap? If you were still upset with him, you wouldn’t even want him around you but instead he’s managed to get you exactly where he wants you and that’s in his arms.

“Because we barely know anything about each other,” you said bitterly, your back stiffening with anticipation as he teased your covered cunt under your skirt. You really should push him away.

“That’s not true,” Jungkook whispered against your neck, his other hand joined the one under your skirt and moved your underwear to the side making you let out a gasp at the sudden exposure, “I know where you grew up, what you’re studying, what you look like in the morning, what makes you upset, how you like your breakfast and… and I know the sounds you make when I touch you right here.”

To further his point along, he pressed a gentle touch to where your clit is hidden under its hood. He was pulling reactions from your body that you didn’t expect to give him anymore. There was a slight wetness between your folds now that he teased a finger into, sliding it between your labia until his finger was soaked in it. Then, he brought the same coated finger to your clit, softly pressing circles around it as it hardened with his touch. As he did all this, he kissed along your neck nearly making you forget whatever went wrong.

“But what do I really know about you?” You tried to ask between panting breaths, unable to stop your hips from slowly gyrating against his lap when he touched you with both hands, “You’re the one who has been lying, you never told me about your fighting.”

“I planned to,” he admitted, his hand sliding down your folds gently, middle finger pressing into the puddle of slick he knew your entrance was located at. With the added stimulation to your clit, he could feel your body begin to squirm on his lap and it was making his jeans tighten around his groin as he felt arousal begin to seep into his own body. “I was going to tell you everything when the right time came along, you know that.”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, either in a moan or warning but you couldn’t tell anymore and let your head fall back against his shoulder, bucking your hips to meet his hand. His touch was gentle but firm, his caress along your thigh was teasing and when his lips pressed against your neck, you couldn’t help but spread your legs just a little further.

“Yes, baby?” The length of his finger fit perfectly between your folds, massaging them each time he pulled his finger out of your wet pussy. You had begun to grind against his hardened bulge, dragging your hips against his cock while he fingered you. A low groan bubbled in his chest as he looked at your pretty face, lips parted softly and fucking yourself on his fingers, “Did you miss me too?”

You nodded your head, breathing heavily when you felt him dig his stiff cock against your sensitive cunt. The rough material of his jeans felt surprisingly good against your thighs and couldn’t help but hump against it. His lips brushed against yours, “Say it.”

“I missed you,” the words barely made it past your lips before he was kissing you, making you try and twist your upper body to reach him better and moaned into his mouth when he pushed another finger into your cunt, fucking you with both while his tongue made out with yours.

You didn’t receive much warning to the knot that tightened in your stomach the deeper his fingers felt like they could go, and with the sudden adrenaline coursing through your veins, you couldn’t control the wave of orgasm that hit you. Jungkook knew just how to curl his fingers, tease your clit and kiss your neck. It was unfair to come undone by him so easily. Embarrassing even.

Jungkook was left to think the complete opposite. He felt the way your body gave itself to pleasure, felt your thighs twitch and threaten to close. Felt the way your breath hitched between kisses and how you arch your back off him to fight against the feeling he brought to you. It made his cock jump to know he so easily pulled such responses from you, made you feel good and relaxed. Since the first time, he’s been obsessed with making you feel good.

“Let’s take these off,” Jungkook mumbled in a groggy voice laced with arousal. He tugged at the hem of your ruined panties, finally annoyed by them and pulled them down your thighs, “They’re in my way.”

You helped take them off as he began to unbutton his jeans, kicking them off along with his tight briefs that did a poor job of hiding his erect dick. It nearly peaked out from the hem and he got rid of them as fast as he could. His cock stood at attention, watching the way you had leant forward to toss your underwear aside and he couldn’t help but touch it. His hand was still covered in some of your release but it created a soft glide as he jerked his cock teasingly, “Can you sit on it?”

Jungkook had a strange way of sounding demanding while gentle, he had a way of getting what he wanted. Although you were the one to be so hesitant to even let him inside, the thought has completely left your body as you did as told. You didn’t care for protection or anything in the way, in truth you were beyond turned on and you forgot how good Jungkook made you feel.

All that talk about being done, not knowing anything about him and being scared was for nothing because you took his cock all the same. You both moaned at the raw feel of your walls tightening around his dick. You weren’t at all crazy about sex, but you had it with him often and going without it the past week and a half felt too long. Jungkook knew how to please you, he was a good boyfriend and so fucking attractive it was hard for you to care about his other red flags.

And as if someone knew you were succumbing to your supposed ex boyfriend and how his walls stretched you out, the table lit up with a call displayed on your phone. Your hands supported yourself on his knees as you sunk down on his cock, feeling the way his hands inched up your torso, yanking on your shirt to get it off you.

“Good girl,” Jungkook sighed out when you took him fully, swaying your hips to adjust to his size and giving his cock a squeeze, “Just ignore them, alright?”

You bit your lip, looking at the screen where a group call was waiting for you. It was like a wake-up call about your friends and how intimidating Jungkook was to them. He was aggressive and cruel, but was he? He apologizes for what happened with Cai, and he doesn’t care for Sieun because he’s loyal to you so where’s the real problem? It’s definitely not where he groped at your tits, bucking into your cunt with his thick cock, knowing just what pace you liked.

“Fuck,” you let out a soft gasp when it felt like his dick was reaching deeper inside you as he leant forward, making you hold onto the end of the coffee table for support. Your knees hit the ground and he knelt behind you, arching your back just a little more to feel the way your walls rubbed around his dick during every thrust.

“Unless you want them to know who’s fucking you right now,” Jungkook said, his free hand gripping at your hips under your skirt and fucking you on his cock from behind. At some point he hand flung his t-shirt off and he had a clear view of your ass under the skirt. His V-line seemed more pronounced everytime he bucked his hips into you and the veins leading down his navel seemed to throb to life with all the blood flowing to where he fucked you.

He was clearly bluffing [you think] and it made your eyes roll to the back with pleasure, arching back into him and pushing your phone further away before he got any ideas. You clicked for it to stop, struggling with the way your body seemed to jump with each thrust, and flipped it to face down.

“Fuck,” you repeated, dropping your head down, “No.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the way his face hardened at your whispered no, surely implying that you didn’t want them to know who you were with. He, personally, didn’t seem to care if they knew he was fucking you so well that you could barely stand. What did they expect? He was patient, he was persistent and he was the only one you should be with at the end of the day. Was it the thought of your friends knowing you were having sex or the thought of them knowing it was with him that you didn’t want?”

Didn’t you want him?

“No? Why not?” He asked, hunching over your back to reach your neck, speaking in your ear, “You don’t want anyone knowing you’re with your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend.

Did you decide to take him back and forget everything else? You could fight back and tell him that he’s not your boyfriend but what if that made him stop fucking you?

Did it make you a bad friend to still be with the one guy who makes you feel things and treats you in ways you’re not used to? Jungkook knew you were close again, and he knew it would be hard to get any real response from you but he tried it anyway, knowing just what he wanted you to say, how he wanted you to say it.

“Right, baby, you’re not leaving me,” Jungkook said bluntly, fingers tracing down your side knowing how sensitive you were to any touch, “You and I aren’t breaking up.”

“Jungkook—“

“You’re not going to try and leave me again, are you?” Jungkook asked with a harsh thrust that had your head falling forward with a moan. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, trying to drag your head up to look at him. “I love you.”

Your hand tapped against the coffee table as if asking for a tap-out but he kept going, feeling how you tightened and recoiled against his cock. You were so close. So very close to cumming all over him and he couldn’t wait.

“Say you love me,” he begged, teasing you with open mouth kisses.

“I love you,” you gasped the quicker he went, feeling yourself close to snapping.

“Say it again,” he thrusted into you deeply, giving your hips no room to move as he trapped you against the coffee table.

“I love you,” you repeated with a moan you couldn’t control.

“Again,” he begged, hands falling to the edge of the table and stuffing you with as much of himself as you could take, your sudden high hitting you like before.

The words could barely form on your lips as you let go, feeling your orgasm reach your entire body. Jungkook waited, clenching his jaw the tighter your walls clamped down on him and before he knew it, he was cumming. His eyes squeezed shut with pleasure as he fell limp against your back, “I love you so fucking much, please don’t ever leave me again.”

You would think that by the way he was acting it was like you were broken up for years, not days, and it reminded you of just how obsessed it felt like he was. His need to talk to you all day, visit you all night, and get jealous whenever your attention wasn’t on him.

He was possessive and a liar but why did he care for you so gently? Why was he so harsh with everyone but you and how could you not want to give in to him?

Even as you felt his cum drip out of you when he pulled out, you weren’t worried about the failure to use protection. In truth you were a little dazed by the entire evening to process what had just happened. Your ex suddenly showed up to your place begging for you back with his dick in your pussy and stars in your eyes. Were you not supposed to give in after all of that?

“Angel,” Jungkook touched your naked back softly, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you said looking back at him and the way he still struggled to catch his breath, clearly as equally affected by it as you.

“Come here,” he said lovingly as he helped you to your feet, “You look tired.”

He was smug too, a smile showing as he led you to your bedroom like everything was back to normal and you let him. He washed up with you, joined you in your bed and held you while you slept the night away.

All his hard work had paid off and he was back with you in his arms and no one in the way. Whatever you might have thought about him, about him and the guy from the restaurant, or his secret fighting and how he attacked Cai went out the window. You didn’t care about any of it when you were with him.

Everything had gone back to what he considered normal. He was spending practically every night he desired over at your place and you weren’t pushing him away. You gave up on trying to push him away and you’ve been happier ever since.

You haven’t been honest with your friends about him though, they don’t know how you’re back together and frankly, you would rather keep it that way. Cai is finally doing better but things are still awkward between you even if he says he isn’t mad. At the end of the day, he was assaulted just for being around you, even if he had been too touchy. You’re lucky he isn’t pressing charges on Jungkook and you really don’t want anyone to know how easily you took him back. It made you feel shitty but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkook does make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“Are you going to go get it?” Jimin asked as you searched inside your backpack for the sixth time in search of your laptop. You forgot it at home and you only knew this because Jungkook had so kindly sent you a text asking if you didn’t need it today. You were running late this morning due to your boyfriend who wouldn’t let you out of bed fast enough and left it on the counter on your way out the door. You had an online exam in less than an hour and you really didn’t want to have to borrow one from the campus library.

“Yeah, if I run I can make it back in time,” you said with a sigh as your two friends followed behind you.

“Want me to come with?” Sieun asked, clearing her throat awkwardly. Since you found out about how she threw herself at Jungkook, she’s made it her mission to get on your good side again. You could’ve easily ended your friendship with her but then you thought about how funny the situation was. As annoying and absurd as it was that she would even try to get at Jungkook, there was something satisfying to know he didn’t succumb to her flirting. Plus, she apologized and you enjoyed making her have to beg for your friendship again.

“Not really, you’ve got another class soon, don’t you?” You said, brushing it off like you were thinking about the trouble it would cause her. In reality, you knew your boyfriend was probably home early from work, probably video gaming on your couch with Bam at his feet and no shirt on. You really didn’t need that to be what she walked into. They walked you to the bus stop but you found yourself wanting to turn away when you looked ahead. You were too nervous to look at either of them but you could read it in the way that they slowed their pace, they were looking at Jungkook.

Just at the entrance gates stood your boyfriend with his signature motorcycle behind him and a baseball cap lowered over his eyes. He smiled at you, opening his backpack and pulling out your laptop.

You couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief you felt as you walked up to him still feeling nervous. You took your laptop and stuffed it into your backpack, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a laugh, taking your hand in his and pulling you closer, “I brought it so you wouldn’t have to go back home for it. I thought you’d be a little more thankful.”

“I am, thank you,” you confessed, unable to help the way you looked back at Jimin and Sieun who stood there surprised at the sight. They couldn’t wrap their mind around the idea of you taking your violent boyfriend back.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, lifting his head to look behind you but his vision was slightly obscured by the rim of his hat. He didn’t have to see more to understand what the problem was and he couldn't help but let his jaw clench with annoyance. He had growing suspicions and what it might be and he’s not liking it. It’s as if you didn’t want your friends to see you with him.

“Nothing, but seriously, thanks for bringing it to me. I was just about to start walking home,” you said, hoping to ease some of the tension, “I should probably go and study for this exam because I have a strong gut feeling I’m going to fail. Are you staying over again?”

“Can I?” Jungkook questioned, arm tightening around your waist, “Or are you tired of me yet?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You can come over whenever you want, you know that. But okay—I should get going.”

He caught you before you could let go of him and smiled sweetly, teasingly, “Can I get a kiss first?”

It was such a small favor but it felt deeper than that. His smile barely reached his eyes and he was strongly aware of the audience behind you that stared at him with worry. You haven’t told your friends and it bothers him to know you want to keep him a secret. After everything he’s done to get back with you, you want to hide it from your friends? You thought he wouldn’t find out?

“Your hat is in the way,” you said awkwardly trying to pry his arm off you so you could disappear into the library where your friends wouldn’t ask what was going on. You could feel their eyes glaring at the back of your head and seeing Jungkook was surprising enough, watching you kiss him would be unspeakable.

Jungkook grabbed his ballcap by the bill and turned it around on his head, flipping it so the bill was facing the back and the back was in the front, “Better?”

Your lips parted in a small gasp, practically drooling at how he looked. He made it so incredibly hard to resist him. This time around, he grinned, loving the way your cheeks flushed when he riled you up and without asking, leant down to catch your lips with his.

You immediately kissed him back, forgetting about the people who would soon be interrogating you and enjoyed it. When you pulled back, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning at the taste of you on his tongue, “I’ll pick you up after?”

“Sure,” you said breathlessly, “But I should really go now.”

“Mhm,” Jungkook chuckled looking back at Sieun and Jimin, not caring about the glares they sent him, “Text me when you’re done.”

He watched you walk away with him satisfied by the look of disgust in their faces. When he looked at Sieun, she looked a little scared, and self conscious. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to hide from the hurt his words made her feel still to this day and looked away quickly. Jimin seemed more annoyed than anything, he couldn’t stand the sight of you with Jungkook and it brought him a sort of smugness. He couldn’t take his smirk as he threw a leg over his bike and put his helmet on.

It never bothered Jungkook what anyone else thought about him anyway. He was always going to do and act the way he wanted and at the end of the day, it didn��t change a thing. You saw how violent he could be, you’ve heard what he’s said and yet you still choose him. You chose him over everyone else and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

::.

gahdamn this shit is so long 😭😭😭 damn near two months worth of writing so bare with me

NO PART TWO cause look how long this hoe is. to clarify, jk is not a good person in this fic but he’s hot and it’s fiction so who cares. I was going for something that radiated romantic dreams and fighting hearts so I’m hoping it landed 🤞

PSA: I will be posting a new Google form for my taglist soon bc I can’t access my old one and ik some of the users are inactive now but who knows when I’ll be able to do that sooooo

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions

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mariacallous · 1 year ago

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The Ocean Sciences Building at the University of Washington in Seattle is a brightly modern, four-story structure, with large glass windows reflecting the bay across the street.

On the afternoon of July 7, 2016, it was being slowly locked down.

Red lights began flashing at the entrances as students and faculty filed out under overcast skies. Eventually, just a handful of people remained inside, preparing to unleash one of the most destructive forces in the natural world: the crushing weight of about 2½ miles of ocean water.

In the building’s high-pressure testing facility, a black, pill-shaped capsule hung from a hoist on the ceiling. About 3 feet long, it was a scale model of a submersible called Cyclops 2, developed by a local startup called OceanGate. The company’s CEO, Stockton Rush, had cofounded the company in 2009 as a sort of submarine charter service, anticipating a growing need for commercial and research trips to the ocean floor. At first, Rush acquired older, steel-hulled subs for expeditions, but in 2013 OceanGate had begun designing what the company called “a revolutionary new manned submersible.” Among the sub’s innovations were its lightweight hull, which was built from carbon fiber and could accommodate more passengers than the spherical cabins traditionally used in deep-sea diving. By 2016, Rush’s dream was to take paying customers down to the most famous shipwreck of them all: the Titanic, 3,800 meters below the surface of the Atlantic Ocean.

Engineers carefully lowered the Cyclops 2 model into the testing tank nose-first, like a bomb being loaded into a silo, and then screwed on the tank’s 3,600-pound lid. Then they began pumping in water, increasing the pressure to mimic a submersible’s dive. If you’re hanging out at sea level, the weight of the atmosphere above you exerts 14.7 pounds per square inch (psi). The deeper you go, the stronger that pressure; at the Titanic’s depth, the pressure is about 6,500 psi. Soon, the pressure gauge on UW’s test tank read 1,000 psi, and it kept ticking up—2,000 psi, 5,000 psi. At about the 73-minute mark, as the pressure in the tank reached 6,500 psi, there was a sudden roar and the tank shuddered violently.

“I felt it in my body,” an OceanGate employee wrote in an email later that night. “The building rocked, and my ears rang for a long time.”

“Scared the shit out of everyone,” he added.

The model had imploded thousands of meters short of the safety margin OceanGate had designed for.

In the high-stakes, high-cost world of crewed submersibles, most engineering teams would have gone back to the drawing board, or at least ordered more models to test. Rush’s company didn’t do either of those things. Instead, within months, OceanGate began building a full-scale Cyclops 2 based on the imploded model. This submersible design, later renamed Titan, eventually made it down to the Titanic in 2021. It even returned to the site for expeditions the next two years. But nearly one year ago, on June 18, 2023, Titan dove to the infamous wreck and imploded, instantly killing all five people onboard, including Rush himself.

The disaster captivated and horrified the world. Deep-sea experts criticized OceanGate’s choices, from Titan’s carbon-fiber construction to Rush’s public disdain for industry regulations, which he believed stifled innovation. Organizations that had worked with OceanGate, including the University of Washington as well as the Boeing Company, released statements denying that they contributed to Titan.

A trove of tens of thousands of internal OceanGate emails, documents, and photographs provided exclusively to WIRED by anonymous sources sheds new light on Titan’s development, from its initial design and manufacture through its first deep-sea operations. The documents, validated by interviews with two third-party suppliers and several former OceanGate employees with intimate knowledge of Titan, reveal never-before-reported details about the design and testing of the submersible. They show that Boeing and the University of Washington were both involved in the early stages of OceanGate’s carbon-fiber sub project, although their work did not make it into the final Titan design. The trove also reveals a company culture in which employees who questioned their bosses’ high-speed approach and decisions were dismissed as overly cautious or even fired. (The former employees who spoke to WIRED have asked not to be named for fear of being sued by the families of those who died aboard the vessel.) Most of all, the documents show how Rush, blinkered by his own ambition to be the Elon Musk of the deep seas, repeatedly overstated OceanGate’s progress and, on at least one occasion, outright lied about significant problems with Titan’s hull, which has not been previously reported.

A representative for OceanGate, which ceased all operations last summer, declined to comment on WIRED’s findings.

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restinslices · 2 months ago

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So I'm still not seeing how anybody thinks Mark Grayson is a dom

I mean this in the most respectful way possible - Mark is whiney as fuck.

Once again, I say this with love. I love Mark real bad, but I've seen this mf whine and cry too damn much to think he's telling anybody what to do during sex. His ass was shaking in his boots when he asked Eve out. I'm not taking him serious.

Maybe alternate versions of him, but the Mark we watch all the time? No.

Mark is a crybaby ass sub.

I think at first he'd be very shy. He feels awkward asking for things and being so vulnerable with you, but after some time, he's on board.

Mark is the type to look up at you with the softest eyes as he's eating you out/sucking you off then legit tear up if you don't cum in his mouth.

Mark is the type to buy extra suits because he likes you fucking him in them and he keeps getting them dirty.

Mark is the type to somehow forget how strong he is when you two are being intimate. For example, you have his back to your chest as you're jerking him off, overstimulating him. Instead of just pulling your hand off, which he definitely could do, he just whines and sobs. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, breathing uneven. "No more" he'd say, "it's too much!" yet he'd keep bucking his hips upwards.

He loves the feeling of you controlling him. He loves just being Mark Grayson and not Invincible. He loves that he has a safe space and he's not expected to be this big and strong superhero.

He loves being praised. Tell him how good he's doing, that you're proud of him when he takes a punishment well, tell him how happy he makes you and that he's the most beautiful person you've ever seen. Kiss his lips softly as you fist his cock or abuse his hole. Let him moan as loud as he wants without making him feel ashamed for it.

And once he moves out his mom's place and y'all live together? On the counter, the couch, the floor, the bed, the table, the bath-.

In conclusion, Sub!Mark is the only answer.

I'm RestInSlices, and I approve this message.

#invincible #invincible smut #mark grayson #mark grayson smut #Sub!Mark Grayson #Sub Mark Grayson #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #He's pathetic

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1nthedarknessofthenight · 8 months ago

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﴾ haunt me

pairing: demon!lee minho x f!reader

genre: one-shot, horror au, smut

word count: 11,2K

warnings: small!stalking ⋆ obsessive behavior ⋆ blood ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ ass!slapping ⋆ biting! ⋆ pain!kink⋆ choking! ⋆ small!fear play⋆ dom!leeknow & sub!reader ⋆ rough!sex ⋆ ass up face down!position ⋆ fingering (f.receiving) ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: on Halloween night, you and your friends gather for a classic spirit summoning, eager to make the most of this tradition, unaware that you will be the one to face the consequences…

author’s note: this is actually the first ever thing I wrote here, but I forgot about it but now it’s finally seeing the light of the day

main masterlist

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The blanket around you did nothing for the coldness that seeped into your skin. Your teeth are still chattering, lips dry and nose runny. You should’ve known better, all of you. Your muscles are straining with every small move you make to get yourself a little more comfortable on the hard floor. Your eyes go over the room, finding only disappointment. The costumes, makeup and left over mess reminded everyone of how horrible the party was. You remember how excited you and your friends were. You all spend so much time getting ready, almost freezing to death while walking to the so called party. You looked forward to it so much and maybe you did have way too high of expectations. Everything was awful and mostly — it lacked the Halloween spirit.

Your attention goes back to the television, just as the lead character is being chased by the killer. Her screams pierce your ears, while you take a small sip of the wine in your hands. You and your friends decided to just rather go home and have a small party of your own. The disappointment was so great that none of you had an appetite for searching for another party. However the costume still wrapped around your body was telling you something different. Just watching horror movies and sitting in a costume didn’t fill the need of thrill you so needed.

Soft footsteps are heard, making you all turn, some in fright, thinking that something evil is coming right towards you all, but is just your friend Katherine. The soft light, illuminates her figure clad in dark, long dress, her nails glimmering as she lifts up something to show you. Firstly you only see what seems like a plate, but as another one of your friends goes to switch on a lamp beside you, all of you immediately realize what she was holding.

“Look what I got!” Her voice is chippery, but it holds a small mocking at the end. A series of groans and small sounds echo around you, while your eyes are still on the Ouija board in her hands. Your eyes go quickly over the letters and the planchette. Even with alcohol in your system, you are getting a really weird feeling from the piece of wood. It makes the hair at the back of your head stand up, shivers going down your spine. You are definitely not alone, because your friend Jade is almost trembling from even the thought of using such thing. Your hand falls on top of her messy hair to soothen her, but your eyes are still on the witch who rolls her eyes at her other friend’s noises. “Oh, common, it’s mandatory.”

The girl next to you shakes her head immediately, hand pointing to the board, making the others for a second silent. “You know what happens after using that thing, right?” You have to agree a little with her weariness. You have ever actually thought about talking to the death. Nothing made you believe something evil existed, but also you were not a sceptic. just nothing made you believe there was something more so far. Jade was scared of everything, so your friends didn’t take her warning so seriously and you have to huff softly at that.

“Well, yeah—“ Katherine shrugs, looking down at the Ouija board. “But also no, because I’ve never tried it.”

You watch her as she sits down on the floor before you, your other two friends circling around her to look closely at the wooden tablet. You too can’t help, but tilt your head at it. There were few scratches, dark smudges, but maybe it was that design. “Where did you get this?” You wonder, because you don’t think she has these kinds of things just laying around in her apartment.

She looks up at you, dark eyes peeking out from behind her neon yellow contact lenses. “The thrift store.” Some of you have to laugh shortly at her dry response, some too occupied by the board laying before you all.

“Are there at least instructions?” Wonders out loud your friend Hannah who sits across from you in her scary clown costume.

“Who needs them?”

It has to be the alcohol or maybe you were already getting tired, but as the television is shut off, lights switched off, you have this weird feeling on the back of your head. You scratch at the burning spot, distracting yourself for just a second by liting up some few candles. The flame gives you the small amount of warmth you so desperately need. You can still feel the coldness licking at your skin, but there was also this awful heat gathering in your chest. Were you nervous? Scared? A frown is plastered on your face, eyes never leaving the Ouija board, like the planchette would move at any second.

This uneasy feeling is not shared however, but still your friends seem to get a little quieter. All of you sit on the floor, the only light being the few lit candles around you and the Moon peeking behind the curtains. Was it the thought of doing something you shouldn’t that was scaring you? You refuse to believe that something in the shadows was peaking at you. The paranoia was eating you alive. Your frozen finger digs into your skin, pulse jumping rapidly and you have to remind yourself that it is all just in your head. None of you were touching it so far, however the sight of those scratches, dips and cravings on the board seem to pierce your soul.

You blink rapidly, smudging your makeup, because you have to sigh in exhaustion. You can’t remember the last time you were so paranoid and — scared. Maybe it is only because you have never tried it, but looking at your other friends they didn’t seem too into it. They still chatted between each other shortly, swallowing down the cheep wine. You look down into your own cup, swirling the liquid around as you can’t find the appetite to take a sip right now.

You are startled a little when someone claps their hands together, making your attention move to Katherine who rubs her palms together. “Are we going to do this?” Your eyes flicker to your scared friend, a little tipsier than before, so you are not too surprised by seeing her just nod in agreement. You do not protest either, putting down your cup next to you and outstretching your hands to the planchette that sits in the middle of the floor.

The silence is heavy, completely aware of the darkness wrapping around you, piercing your back. You try to ignore it as best as you can, shaking your head at yourself, pressing your finger lightly on the planchette. Nothing is heard for a second, all of you looking at each other briefly, before Amanda speaks up. “Is anybody here?” She calls out and her voice seem to echo around you almost.

Silence again, but you can’t help, but look around. Though you have to sigh a little when the same question is repeated. “It doesn’t work like that.” You say, cutting through the quiet.

Everyone turns to look at you and your friend can’t help, but raise a challenging eyebrow. “Okay, you try then.” Says Hannah.

You clear your throat a little, swallowing the invisible lump in your throat. The way you are becoming nervous is making you anxious. The blanket around you slips from your shoulders, the cold immediately kissing you. It felt like there was no layer left between you and the darkness. When you straighten your back, shuffling a little closer to the board, your fingers start to tremble. The small frown of confusion by your body reacting like this is visible, but you try to keep it together. Licking your lips, your eyes go around the room, before plastering your eyes back down. “We welcome everyone who wants to join us and if anyone is here, we would like you to make a sign.” You take a deep breaths between each word, not knowing exactly what is suitable to say in this kind of situation.

Your voice seems almost loud in the quiet room, but everyone seems to listen carefully to you. You do too, a little too hard, because the only thing you can hear for a while is your blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes are wide open, searching in the dark behind your friends. You don’t even know for what you are searching, but you feel like the answer is close. You have never talk to the dead, but you can’t say that people who do this are exaggerating. The waiting for something to happen is frightening and you think you have never been so on high alert over something that wasn’t even there.

“Could you maybe knock on something?” Asks Jade, her voice quiet, but in the room even a pin drooping could be heard.

“Or make that candle blow out?”

Questions fly across the room, though nothing happens for a moment. All of you look at each side of the room, your eyes however fall into the hallway where you were sitting next to. Nothing is seen, only those specks of light made by your eyes. However you swear you feel warmth coming from the end of the hallway. It was almost suffocating in a way, already thinking it’s just you, but then something does happen and you feel it yourself as very one else in the room.

“It’s moving….” Exclaims Amanda in shock, staring down at the planchette. Your own breath gets stuck in your throat, because you swear you feel the planchette vibrating under your fingers. Your eyes immediately trail over to your friends in disbelief. It moves subtly in short stops and you have to shake your head at it.

“Who is moving it?”

“It’s not me! You’re doing it!”

The voices of your friends fall to deaf ears. You don’t want to believe it, but looking at the frightened faces of your friends, you can tell that their reactions are completely genuine. Nervous feeling creeps up on you, watching the planchette travel over the board, before it stops at a corner. “Yes?” You say softy the word and you swallow roughly, eyes trailing over the room. You don’t want to believe it, but you are now left with no choice. “Is it yes that someone is here with us?” You ask again, listening carefully.

For a moment you only hear your friends’ whimpers of fear and your own heart in your ears, but then a small tap is heard behind you. Your head whips around quickly, your own gasp matching with the others as you stare with wide eyes at the window behind you. Only the Moon and swinging trees can be seen, nothing other than that. You turn back around to look at your friends, but your eyes fall onto something different.

The candles around you seem to rise, flame flickering and bending like something is blowing at them. Your own face of your fear, makes them look into the direction and few hushed curses are being shared across the room. “Holy shit–“ Says Hannah.

“Maybe you left the window open?”

“You know damn well that I didn’t, Jade”

You are not following their conversation again, lost in thought or to be honest you can’t even think straight right at this moment. Your face scrunches up, shivers going down your spine. You eyes widened again, freezing in your spot. The side of your body burns, it left like something was poking you, telling you to turn around. You can’t move however for a second, from the corner of your eye watching your friends panic over the planchette moving again, but you are not even touching it anymore. The thing that frightens the most is the feeling of someone’s eyes staring at your back.

Your head turns slowly around, body screaming at you not to, but something is controlling you, pushing you to look back into the hallway. The hot air rushes to your face and it wasn’t from the candles. When you finally turn to glance into the darkness, your blurry eyes from not blinking at all don’t see anything for a moment, but soon from the darkness appears a sphere, then it forms and forms till it turns into a silhouette of a person.

You gasp, breath getting stuck in your chest. It is eery, horrifying sight and even if you finally blink rapidly, like it was just your own eyes playing tricks on you, it only seems to get closer. It reaches for you and you want to pull back, but can’t. You watch the mass of darkness become fuller slowly, before you see pair of red beaming eyes forming out of it. You lips fall apart, a loud scream at the back of your tongue, but before it can fall out of you, the candles that you just now realized became even higher dim back down by blink of an eye.

The sound of the board being thrown across the room, makes you snap out of the trance, scrambling away, just like your friends. You are breathing hard, head turning to look at others who only have their eyes on the board in the corner of the room. And you at the moment realize in your frightened state that you have been the only one who saw the truth.

────

With every step, with every breath you took, your head would turn around. Paranoia seemed to follow you the moment you left your friend’s apartment and you hoped that was the only thing truly following you. You lived quite far, too late to catch the last bus, leaving you to walk your way home. However you were at least walking through the city and maybe you were just imagining the burning eyes at the back of your head. And if you weren’t, a look from a stranger couldn’t make you feel like this. Someone — something was sizing you up, following you, perfectly mimicking your movements like your own shadow and just as you though you caught it, turning around swiftly — nothing, only a crowd of people who didn’t even acknowledge your presence.

You didn’t either, there seem to be invisible to you and the thing following you that couldn’t be seen either however, had a strong sense of presence. Was there really safety in numbers? After a while, every little noise made you jump, laughter and occasional screams of terror when the unreal monsters jumped at someone, made your head spin. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe, like you already you have already considered, it was only in your head. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to try and talk to the dead and on this night specifically as everyone around you made your delusions even stronger.

You couldn’t breathe. Every time your feet moved faster, it seemed to be even closer to you. So close you that you could feel it reaching the back of your neck or was it just the wind? Your eyes trailed over the people. No one was looking at you, everyone minded their own, drinking the night away and crowding the small square. What if you and your friends decided to go here instead and not the party? What if you wouldn’t play with the board?

Your stroll slowed down to a full stop. It felt like whatever that was following you disappeared, but also at the same time seemed even closer to you. Just out of sight. You didn’t want to search for it, but something was telling you to do so. You stopped at the middle of the crowd, eyes almost like being pulled by a magnet stopping on a one specific place. The people walked through your line of vision before it become clear to you why you were so drawn to that spot.

There — right there, under the roof of a stand stood what it looked like a man by his slightly broad shoulders and short hair, but by the shadow which the roof casted on him, you couldn’t even get a glimpse of his face. However that wasn’t necessary. The way he stood…from his whole body radiated this menacing, evil aura that made your whole body freeze. Your breath was taken away from you, eyes wide, staring at the unknown figure. The same, almost even more intense wave of fear washed over you, it felt the same when you looked down the dark hallway. He didn’t feel like a real person, he felt like something way more than that. Something dark and hungry and it was staring right back at you. You didn’t see his eyes, but you just know. This couldn’t be real…

This couldn’t be real. Things like this don’t exist and if they did you feel like they would be more documented. You weren’t a true believer nor a sceptic, but you really didn’t feel like wanting to know the truth right now. He, it didn’t move and even by blinking, it didn’t vanish like you wished it would. It was probably just a person, a person with a really scary costume.

A gasp leaves you as suddenly someone elbows you. You turn to the person, catching there sneer and you realize that maybe standing in the middle of the street wasn’t a good idea. You looked stupid, but that was the least of your worries as you glance back at the man, only him being nowhere to be found. Were you just imagining things at this point? Maybe your fear was only playing with you. You ignore the weird occurrence as best as you could, deciding to continue heading back home. Your apartment was just few blocks away and at the thought of finally being inside your safe space makes you pick your pace.

The feeling of being followed doesn’t leave you however, but you keep your head high in a mock confidence, showing whatever this thing was that you are brave. You really weren’t much of an actress, because as soon as you reach the entrance door to your building, you rush to unlocked it, slipping in quickly, like the thing would just squeeze right through you. The doors slam shut loudly and you hope that none of the other residents won’t come to scold you. The more you walk your way up the stairs to your apartment, the more you don’t acknowledge the creepy feeling that someone is watching you.

Your apartment door shines brightly at you and you out of breath fumble with your keys. The satisfying click and smell of your home made you sight out in relief. You were so happy to be finally inside, greeting your cat who waited for you just as you opened the door. Your hands smoothen down her fluffy hair, sighing at her calming purring. Everything that happened flew over your head as you finally started to feel at ease. Like you thought — it was just your imagination, nothing more…

You weren’t one for drinking till you passed out, but you find yourself stumbling just a little as you pull off your shoes, already ruined just by a one night of walking. Making your way into your kitchen, you go to give some food to your fluffball who meowed at your every move and that sound really ease your racing heart.

Putting down the bowl on the floor, you watch your cat eating away for a second. You are lost in thought, though nothing specific was running through your head, just blankly staring into space. But just as you move to make your way to your bedroom, you saw something shift from the corner of your eye. Looking up, you however find nothing, but the dark corner of your unlight living room and at that your patience runs low. For yourself, because you can’t believe that you are making yourself see things in your own home where you are supposed to feel the safest.

You flip the light switch next to you, illuminating the room in subtle orange hue, your eyes still unmoving from the spot and still nothing was there. A sigh leaves you, but you refuse to say it was out of relief. At that you went to take your upper layer off, also fixing yourself something knowing that if you won’t eat or drink something, it will kill you in the morning.

You are exhausted, a heavy weight on top of your shoulders telling you to just lay down. In some way however you are still on high alert, maybe the aftermath of your own self scaring you. You thought about showering, but to be honest you didn’t have the energy to do all of your routine at this hour and also there is nothing for you to wash off.

You stumble again, but now over the bottom of your dress, catching yourself just in time with your hand on the doorway to your bedroom. The sheer, soft fabric is thrown on your bed, ignoring the mess all over the room. The corset around you didn’t suffocate you and you wonder what exactly is it that is making you lose your breath. Your hands fumble over your back, fingers just at the lacing of your top, but just before you can pull at it, you hear a noise.

It was loud and it momentarily makes you look back into the direction of your living room. You sigh shortly after, shaking your head at your own delusions. It was just your cat probably. However when you again go to pull at the string of your corset, you hear a meow right beside you, before you see your cat jumping into your field of vision on your bed. You freeze slightly, hands stilling. It is an old building, it makes noises all the time — it was nothing. You try to gaslight yourself by thinking it didn’t even happened, but then there’s even a louder bang! coming from behind you.

Your head whips around wildly, hair falling into your wide eyes that stare into your dark hallway. You feel your heart pounding against your chest and in your state of shock you are not quick enough to stop your cat from running to the direction of the noise. Your hands outstretch before you, in hushed whisper pleading your cat to come back, but her fuffy, long tail is soon gone from your vision. You hate the lump forming in your throat and the way your bottom lip quivers. That noise almost again makes you wonder if you imagine it, but then you hear it again, now in series of three bangs that echoed in your apartment. It sounded like knocking, mocking you to let whoever — whatever it was in, but what if it was already here with you? It sounded like the noises were meant for you to come in, get closer.

The noises weren’t the only thing making you frighten, it was also the way the air around you seems to drop in temperature. You immediately shiver, goosebumps appearing all over your body. But there was this odd warmness, starting right at the entrance of your open bedroom door. It was so appealing…

You finally take a step closer to the hallway when you hear another loud noise. The sudden realization that your cat might be in danger makes you take few steps further even with the fear you held in yourself. You hate her for it, but you are now only scared for her. You quickly look around your room for any kind of weapon, but you find nothing, realizing that your pepper spray was in your purse that you left on your kitchen counter. You just have to be brave…That’s what you try to tell yourself, while slowly making your way out of the room.

The darkness seemed deeper that when you went in your bedroom. It is intoxicating, heavy, it pierces your skin and stings at your eyes. Your lungs scream for air as you try not to breath at all, scared to even make a sound. Your light costume leaves you in very vulnerable state and it makes you wrap your arms around your stomach that grumbles uncomfortably. What if the thing you thought followed you was a man and he somehow got into your apartment? You don’t know if a man is better than an entity, but it certainly would make you feel less crazy. You hope that the knocking was mistaken, that it was only someone at your door. You have to tell yourself that there’s no way for someone to break in, because you locked the door immediately when you came in. However something at the back of your mind is telling you that you have the right to be frightened.

And you were to death, when you stop at the corner, living room just right behind a wall. Your eyes didn’t get use to the darknesss and looking at the threshold leading to your living room, you realized you weren’t going after light. You were only going down the path that seeped warmness, blazing hot, coming right from your living room. There was no light, the one you switched on was left that way, but now there’s not a single flicker of it peeking out. You listen carefully, for your cat or your intruder, but the sound of your heart makes your ears ring, so you had nothing, but your sight right now.

Your hand almost tears the fabric of your skirt as you lean forward a little, squinting into the room. A whiff of the same feeling washes over you again, making you pull yourself back with a choked sigh. It is the same one — like the one you felt while looking into the hallway, like the one when you saw the silhouette of the man and the same one that has been following you. Your eyes become blurry with tears, panicking, mind racing. You have no clue what to do. You have no weapon, your phone is in your kitchen and your keys…right beside the door to your apartment.

It is a bad idea, but if you would run through the living room quickly enough, you can get out. There’s still a chance that the intruder had your keys, so you ask yourself — are you willing to take the chances? Of getting caught by this…thing. You don’t want to leave your cat alone or worse with it, but if you would just make it next door to your neighbor, you can safe her and yourself. Your hand tightens around your skirt, picking it up and sprinting out of your hiding spot, but as soon as you do — you see him.

You choke, the sound bumbling in your throat, your eye staring straight at the silhouette in the corner of your room. Even in the dark, you can see it. The mass of darkness coming from him alone and the hot air suffocates you, just by looking into his direction. Tears stream down your face as you turn back to the direction of the door and back at the man, but then you hear a soft purring sound. Your cat is rubbing herself against the man’s feet and even if you are thankful nothing happened to her, you are terrified from seeing her so close to that man. Her white fur is bright and you almost come rushing to her, but as your eyes go back to the door, you run to that direction instead.

Your hand outstretches, reaches for the doorknob, even if you can see the keys glimmering before your teary eyes there was no salvation for you. You are turned around, roughly pushed to the door and a whimper of pain leaves you as your back meets the wood. Your mouth opens, ready to scream, but like he knew, his hand falls over your lips, silencing your cry for help.

Your teary eyes stare at the faceless person, eyes streaming down your face and pooling at his hand. You are held against the door, but not with his body, it was like your whole body had frozen over. You want to scream in fear, instincts telling you to just run, but you can’t move an inch. Though your body trembles, eyes searching, trying to get a view of this man. He didn’t feel real, his skin is hot, breath fanning over your face. You are starting to sweat from all the different temperatures, sobbing in fear as you hear his lips fall apart.

“Don’t scream.”

His voice is low, quiet yet strong. You don’t want to fulfill his demand, but the tone of voice — it echoed in your mind, repeating and repeating. His hand falls from your lips and you take in deep breaths, choking. You can’t even muster to scream, you can’t and you don’t want to, because he maybe will hurt you. “Please, don’t hurt me — don’t kill me.” You are shuttering over your words, choking again in your tears.

You can see him tilt his head at your pleas, standing right before your shaking body so casually it made you sick. He didn’t even try to do something to you yet and that definitely heightens the terror in you. You sob, crying and you gasping at the sound of him sushing you. You back pressed harder against the door, finally finding enough strength to move just a little away from him, when he leans just a little closer to you. “Where’s the fun in that?” He whispers to you, teasing you almost, amused tone in his voice. You look at him slightly confused, eyes blurry, still not knowing what this man looks like. You don’t feel at ease at his tone nor his words of small assurance. It is like he could see you, because you can hear the click of his shoes, stepping a little away from you. “I thought you wanted me to make myself known?”

You are left even more confused, before it quickly comes clear to you. You can’t — you won’t believe it. Those words pierce you painfully and with seeing him this much away from you, makes you immediately think of the silhouette you have seen following. This man could be just a man, but his words…back at the small seance you spoke them. A sharp intake is heard, shaking your head at the thought of this man being something more. The thought crossed your mind, but you actually never would think that it might be the truth. If it is — if this man is something from the other realm, haunting you, making you tremble in fear that it probably thrives in…you can’t – “No…” Your disagreement is quiet, heart beating wildly in horror as you look over the mass of darkness around him, evil. “This is some sick joke — you are just playing with me. Who’s behind his?” Your words are not making sense anymore to you, too many thoughts of how it could be possible leaves you thinking that it might be just a stupid prank, but no human could make you this sort of fear.

The man sneers, hissing like a snake at your words. It sounded like you just insulted him, gasping loudly when he makes a one big step closer to you and you swear your noses almost bump together. “Do you think your friends can do this?” He says, raising his hand, putting it right before your eyes. Your wide eyes stare at his hand forming into fist and by the act you see the light in your kitchen flickering with every subtle move of his. You look at him, finally seeing in the small flickers of light his face. You didn’t know what to expect, maybe a gross man or the devil himself with horns and a face of death, but you are certainly left speechless.

His dark, brown hair is slightly in his eyes. They shine, deep red at the corners that flicker with the light. Long and sculpted nose leads you to trail your eyes over his high cheekbones to his cupids bow and then his bitten, plump lips. This wasn’t a face of evil, he looked like an angel, no face that should make you feel terrified, but you can see it in his eyes. Sinister, holding evil as well as wisdom that you could never imagine or reach. Even in this small moment you had enough time to look him over, but as his hand closes into tight fist, the sound of the lightbulb shattering makes you fall back into the stage of horror. You can hear your cat running away from the scene and your tears recur, because you finally start to believe. “Do you think your friends could ever make you feel so frightened?” You shake your head, head spinning at what just happened.

He turned on the light with just his hand in the air, with just putting his hand into a fist he crushed it and you don’t want to know what else he can do. “I don’t understand…w-who are you?” You are hyperventilating, praying that is just your imagination again, but you can’t close your eyes and let him vanish from your sight. You need to see him.

“The better question is… what am I?” You are again shaking your head and it’s like he can see your thoughts, because he is making you say out loud what you have been thinking all along. You don’t seem him, but his lips lift up slightly for a moment at his own memory. “When you were playing with that Ouija board, do you know, that you opened the gates for anyone to go through?” A cry leaves you, just as the light in the corner of the room is light up with a flick of his finger. Your eyes stare into his amused ones and somehow you wished you didn’t have to see him. “You didn’t even closed it...”

Realization strikes you, your trembling stopping when you thought of your friends. What if they are also in danger just because of you? You would definitely wouldn’t be able to live with that guilt. ‘What am I?’ His words are the one thing on your mind right now. How much is he dangerous? He doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even breathe it seems, your eyes staring blankly at his face. “Oh, my—“ You can’t even finish the word as his hand quickly by a blink of an eye wraps around your throat.

You feel him squeeze his fingers in a warning, not quite choking you, but it still makes you gasp for air. “Don’t say his name, he can’t help you. You did this to yourself—“

“Are you the devil?” You wonder out loud and his whole demeanor changes, laughing drily at your question.

“I preciete the compliment, but no.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his weird behavior. You still fear him, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt you at all. Maybe he already has you right where he wants, under him with his hand on your throat, playing with your life.

He maybe might not be the devil himself, but he still had those rings of fire around his irises. He is evil, you know it and evil always wants something. Like he said, you have done this to yourself and you have to pay. You know he won’t let you go, he didn’t stop following you from the apartment and even if you know who or maybe what he looks like, it doesn’t calm you down. You still know so little and you wish you didn’t have to know further. You are completely at his mercy and you are pulled back into the present when his hand tightens again, pulse jumping against his fingers.

“Just take what you want—“

He tsked at you, he now being the one shaking his head and you can’t move away from him or even fight against his strong hold as he makes you lean closer to his face. “Be careful with your words.” His upper teeth are revealed with how much he is sneering and it makes you look down at his mouth. His upper front teeth are bigger slightly, but they weren’t the thing that makes your heart skip a beat — his canine teeth were sharp as a razor and you wonder if his sneering is prediction of him maybe biting you, eating at your flesh. “I’m not the type of evil you’re imaging right now…” His voice is a little softer than before and you wonder if he can read your mind.

Then what is he? “T-then what are you?” You ask him, genuinely curious about his answer.

He lowers his head, your breathing stilling, leaving you speechless as he comes close enough to you that your lips are almost touching. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to find out yourself, like the big girl you are?” His breath words bounce off your parted lips, taking in his raw scent.

Heat pools over you, watching him pull away from you just to look back at your face. His words sounded suggestive and you hope your own mind isn’t messing with you. “You won’t hurt me?” Was he just playing with you all along? Just taking in the pleasure of seeing you scared?

“Not if you don’t want me to…I still have to take something.” His dark eyes fall over your body and you want nothing more than to cover yourself, because you realize at the moment how much your costume is provocative.

“Why? I didn’t ask for you — this.”

He tilts his head again, his eyes not holding amusement and you can feel the air thickening around you. “Did you now? Or were your drunk thoughts just speaking for you?” You breathe out, embarrassment making your skin hot at touch and you know he can feel it under his hand.

You are not sure if you wished for it, but it quickly reaches the surface. Your darkest desire of being taken over, filled with heat and pleasure…”Are you—“ You don’t even have to say it as he releases his hold on your throat, just to press his thumb on your bottom lip.

His touch is electrifying, addictive almost and your whole mind and body swirls for a moment. “A demon, that’s all what you need to know.” You almost nod your head in agreement, letting him trail his thumb across your lips, dangerously close to slipping in your warm mouth. You are puzzled by your own behavior, but you can’t fight it. The urge of him just coming a little closer to you, so you can feel more of him is strong. He can see it on your face and then there’s the subtle smile on his lips again, pouting and nodding at how much your body stops to shake. It certainly had an effect on him as wel, but the look on your tear stained face makes the hunger in him even bigger. “Or I could visit one of your friends…” He teases, though also too occupied by the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Just take me.”

You try to justify yourself, that you are doing this for them, but both of you know you want it — need it more. The fear is at the back of your head, forgotten almost replaced by the fuzzy feeling your mind is in. “Careful what you say.” He warns you again, maybe not to provoke him into doing something you didn’t want, but it flies over your head rather quickly.

His touch leaves you, but you don’t search for it as you are again left in small confusion. You know that you somehow wish for something specific, but you never thought it would come in this way. It makes you feel dirty, used already, but also it makes your nerve endings tingle. Desire for pleasure is normal for humans and you wonder how much he has seen them before. “Why me?” You ask him, surely you can’t be the only one on this night wishing.

“You intrigued me — your soul.” He says and his words hit you deeper than they should. “Calling for something to fill this hole in your chest. I can see into places that people so desperately try to keep hidden…tell me, are you hiding something Y/N?” You are taken back by the sound of your name, but you are aware that he must know you better than you know yourself.

“No…”

“Really…interesting.” The soft light creates shadows across his chiseled face, when he leans over you. “The moment I appeared…you didn’t seem so scared anymore. Does this idea of being used by a blood thirsty demon excites you?”

“No…”

The smile is tugging at your heart, a little eery in some way. “Then why can I smell your arousal from here?” You swallow roughly and you soon realize how much you have been pressing your thighs together. You can feel your slick coating your inner thighs, but the embarrassment doesn’t even reach you, because he looks like he drinks it all up. “I’m a demon of pleasure and desire, there’s no need to feel even an ounce of shame…” He is now reassuring you and his soothing voice is so different from the one you heard moments ago.

“But you’re a demon.” You state the now obvious and the statement should make you laugh in disbelief, but it only strikes you with a feeling you definitely feel shame about.

You feel the heat of his skin way before you feel the subtle touch of his hand on your exposed thigh. Goosebumps spread all over your body, swallowing your gasp at how pleasurable just this felt. “And a man still…” His fingers trail over the outer part of your thigh and your leg does jump away a little, but he was too addictive. “Doesn’t this idea of someone inhumanly powerful taking over your body and soul not excite you?” His voice is hushed and it feels so sweet in your ears.

You shake your head, though not doing anything to move away from him. “I won’t let you take my soul.” You can’t let him take the thing that makes you who you are.

“Maybe not…” Your eyes blink at him, head rolling back against the door as he straightens his back to tower over you. “But your body will be mine—“

You have now words, not even a sound leaves you, because you are left paralyzed when his hand squeezes roughly at the soft skin of thigh. Your wide eyes are staring into his, taken back by the bold move. He doesn’t have to hear any permission to touch you, it was all written right in front of him — all over you face, body and even your soul that you seem to be very sure that it will never be his. He has to wonder himself about how much this might be true, because you are responding to his touch like you have never been touched before. Just by his hand, playing with the string of your garter belt that held your white stockings leaves you gasping.

You are in trouble, you know, because you shouldn’t feel this much pleasure from the touch of a demon. However you already feel your body succumbing to him, just like he wanted. His hand travels under the thin layer of your skirt, dipping right into the mess you made of yourself. A sound leaves you unknowingly, head empty as he moves your thighs apart. The skin of your inner thighs is raw from how much you have been pressing your legs together, but you find yourself not caring anymore. With every breath you take, his hand trails higher and he bites his lip at how hot you feel against him.

His eyes travel across your face. Your eyes are barely open and he thinks he has never seen someone so away from their own mind by his moves. And obsessive, disgusting feeling washes over him, watching you sigh out in bliss as the tips of his fingers finally press over your covered clit. Your back arches a little, breasts pushing against your tight corset and he marvels over your barely covered body. “Who are you?” He asks you. You are dirty, thinking that wearing something like this in public is proper. His nature rages at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this.

You are slightly puzzled by his question, because the feeling of his hand right between your thighs is already too much for you to handle. “Christine…from Phantom of the Opera.” You response, eyes blinking open at him, just as he starts to form circles over your twitching clit.

“Adorable.”

Sharp moan flies out of your mouth, when he suddenly pulls the material of your underwear to the side. The air kisses your cunt, but it soon is warmed up by his fingers again. You are horrified of yourself right now. Why are you enjoying this? You have to remind yourself who and what is touching you, but you think nothing ever felt better. You have never made yourself and definitely not anyone else almost fall apart just by running your fingers through your folds. He is looking at you so intensely, you want to quiver. “Already this wet?” You can’t feel any shame in you and it is definite that he is making you feel like that. Should you be thankful? He is giving you sheer pleasure, circling your clit directly, after pushing the hood away from it. “Just like that, huh?” You don’t have any response for him, only whimpers of euphoria. “How long has it been?”

Your head rolls back, gasping at his touch. He knew your body better than you. Rubbing just at the perfect pace to make you crazy, pressing hard enough for your hips to buckle. Saliva gathers in your mouth, listening to the noises of your dripping center. You are so lost already that the only thing that makes you wake up is when his movements come to a stop. “What?” You say more because you didn’t want him to stop, looking back at him with big eyes and you realize he just asked you a question.

He leans closer to you, head falling on top of your shoulder so his lips are right beside your ear. He doesn’t really like to repeat himself, but being so responsive to him, he will let you do it once. “How long has it been since someone touched you?” With his question, his fingers travel down, right to your hole.

His breaths hit the sensitive skin of your neck and you have to swallow back a moan when his pointer finger just barely dips inside of you. “Long.” You confess in a whisper.

He smacks his lips, pressing them against your neck so you feel every word that comes from his mouth. “You poor thing, such a pity, but don’t worry—“ He is looking at you again, hand leaving you, making you whine a little and he can’t help but smirk a little. “I will make you feel things you have never felt before.”

With his promise, his hands find the back of your thighs, before he lifts you off your feet. You yelp from how smoothly he does it, pulling you up into his arms and you have no choice, but to wrap your legs around his waist. You are shocked by his strength, not used to being picked up so easily, staring at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t look away from you, even if he walks with you to your couch, not even when he lays you down on it. You feel special in this moment, drowning in the thought of him wanting you, but still his nature is not forgotten. He is made like this, he lives from the pleasure of the other.

Your head falls on the armrest, looking up at him looming over your body. He is already consuming you with his eyes alone and it feels delicious, but it sends a small sense of danger. His eyes flash red under the soft light, body clad in dark clothing perfectly contrasting with yours. Your hands are still in the air, fingers just barely grazing over his broad shoulder, but he soon leans closer to you, letting you hug him again. You feel small, vulnerable and weak, but you don’t want him to know he was right about you liking this. But, oh, trust me that he knows…

His hands grip the fabric of the couch, coming closer to you, placing his lower body right between your parted legs. Your hands seem to push him away from how bashful you have become and he surprises by not entirely rushing you. His head falls next to your neck again, slowly trailing his lips over the skin. Your breathing is formed into short gasps at his wet, soft kisses, eyes falling shut for a moment to savor the feeling. He can smell your perfume, sweat and even blood and it makes him groan quietly, kisses turning rougher, just to get closer to you. “Is this it? Is this all that you want?” You say, shivering still from his own sound.

His lips still for a second, but he doesn’t move away. “Is this what you want?” He now asks you.

You know, you don’t have to think much about your answer, but you still pause for a second. Your fingers twitch on his shoulders, legs closing around his and is it even necessary to give him an answer? The only thing you do is pull is head back down your neck, rolling your head back to give him more room, you are too embarrassed to say it out loud. He lets you, he is letting you have your way a little too much he thinks, but he can’t refuse the offer of your delicious neck.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your pulse, making you moan loudly when he starts to suck all over your neck. His bunny teeth nip lightly at your skin, fighting the argue to just bite down. He feels your nails digging into him, while he moans with you, enjoying just the taste of your skin like this. However the strong scent of your arousal is playing with his head, growling at the thought of eating your cunt. He can picture your face of ecstasy and shock all together. He would suck you all up, fuck you with his tongue and you coating his face in your pleasure.

You are shaking at how rough he nibs and sucks at your neck, the small fear of his sharp teeth piercing your quickly forming into pleasure. But before you can feel it, he releases himself from your neck to slide all the way down on the ground to kneel before you. His sharp movements always leave you in disbelief, your senses not quick enough to keep up with him. You pull yourself up to your elbows, watching him put his hands on your thighs, making your skirt pool at your waist.

Your legs are already trembling, knowing your pussy is left uncovered by his touches, but his attention is still fully on you. “White looks good on you, you almost make me feel bad that I will ruin it—“ The ‘you’ is silent, but the smirk is just a small reminder of what he is capable of.

When his eyes fall down to your cunt, he can’t help, but groan. He maybe is the one living of pleasure of the other, but what he is about to do to you is mostly for him. He doesn’t waste any time, he is inpatient and you as well as he can see from your fluttering hole. He doesn’t trail kisses over your thighs, nothing soft, nothing that you don’t want and when he pulls on your underwear, tearing the fabric he is sure that this is what you really want. It stings a little, the fabric snapping against you, before it is thrown away. His head fall between your legs so quickly your hips jump, clit hitting his nose and hard. Though even if you wanted to apologize, he didn’t seem to mind it at all, only letting his mouth fall open to suck at your folds.

“Oh…” Comes out of you, hand flying over your mouth from the feeling of his blazing, hot tongue running all over you. He spits and drools, saliva mixing with your slick and pooling right under your ass. Your hips keep jumping from the sheer and sharp pleasure. Your clit burns as it is caught between his lips. You are shocked by how quickly you feel yourself on the edge.

His head tilts back, releasing your bundle of nerves with a pop to run his tongue over your labia. Your clit twitches in need, mewing, just as he opens his eyes to stare right back at you. You can’t look away from him, from his red irises, his mouth wide open to catch every drop you give him. The pleasure and pain from his grip on your thighs forms into something else — something you haven’t felt before. You didn’t even know that just by someone going over your lips with their tongue felt so good. You swear you have never been this sensitive and he looks like that he knows exactly how to push you. He doesn’t need any guiding, nothing — he is a true man.

You can’t stop your sounds, the pleasure so good, you think you need to run away from it just to catch your breath. He doesn’t let you, his one hand pressing down against your lower stomach, preventing you from trashing around as his other goes to your hole. When his two fingers breaches you, a silent scream leaves you, your own hand flying to his to stop him, but you are already falling apart. Heat, waves of nonstop pleasure wash over you and your ears ring. Your mouth becomes dry, whimpers turning into cries, because you are sure you are going mad. You didn’t want it to end so soon, you wanted him to stop, to feel more.

Your whole body shakes wildly, the skin of your thighs jiggling around his head. You try to catch your breath while your orgasm is still washing over you, siting up to grasp at his hand. Your mouth is open, eyes now filled with tears, pleading and he watches you in your full glory. “I’m not stopping.” He says, words you so desperately needed to hear vibrating against you, fingers scissoring in you.

You immediately fall back down in relief and you can feel his crazed smile against you. The orgasm is none stopping. You don’t know if it’s because he isn’t stopping or if it was just him, but it is a out of body experience. Your hands press against your eyes, moaning wildly as his fingers pick up speed, tongue not stopping to move your clit up and down. He suck just perfectly, curl his fingers just right and doesn’t stop to take a breath nor to change position — he knows what he is doing. You push your legs up to your chest slightly, wrapping them around his head and the sight is to die for.

His eyebrows are furrowed, hand on your stomach searching for yours to put it in his hair. You instantly run your fingers through his soft hair, before tugging roughly and the deep growl that seems to make the whole room shake, sends you over the edge again. It is stronger, more burning and even painful and he eat it right up. You go silent again, eyes rolling into the back of your head and you pull his head with you also. You do hear him release himself from your messy, puffy cunt, just to watch you fall apart again. You don’t need him to help you ride out your orgasm, it was too good to not let it take over your whole being again.

The taste of you is on his tastebuds, licking at his lips hungrily, before crawling over your body. Your skin is hotter, almost like his and his cock pushes painfully against his pants at your drunk state. You looked beautiful…he needs to have you now. His hand moves your hair away from your sweaty face, making you finally open your blurry eyes. “Kiss me.” You say, hands pulling at the hairs on the back of his neck.

You haven’t seen much emotion on his face before, but this felt unnatural. It was just a split second, but you saw it — disappointment. “I can’t.” He says, shaking his head. His eyes held longing, but he makes you forget about this whole moment by kissing you on your collarbone.

You sigh, pressing your chest closer to him, just as he begins to trail down the valley of your breasts. “Can I at least have your name?” His lips wrap around the soft skin of your breast, sucking it in his mouth.

You hiss, pushing at his head. He sucked a little too hard, maybe telling you something by his action, but before you can question it he glances at you back again. “Minho.” He tells you his name, looking into your eyes as you repeat it softly back. You stare at each other for a moment, you moving around a little and just by it you graze over his bulge. Your leg stops in middle of his legs, gaze still unmoving, even if you press your thigh against him. It makes him hiss and you gasp a the sheer size of it. You can see your own desire reflecting in his eyes and he just couldn’t wait anymore.

His hands fly over to his belt, watching you watching his hands as he works to unbuckle his pants. You are holding your breath as he stands up to push down his pants. Your legs immediately press back together as you finally see him. Your lips parted, drooling almost at the size of his cock. Thick, long, veiny, a little curved just to hit those spots deep inside of you with an angry red mushroom tip covered in cum. You are breathing heavier from just the thought of him splitting you open and ruining you for everyone after him.

Minho is breathing through his nose to take in the smell of your emotions, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and when you sit up, pulling down your skirt, he marvels over the sight of your body covered just in corset and stockings. You looked heavenly funnily enough. When he pushes his shirt from his shoulders you sigh at his muscular body — he was simply perfect. “Turn around.” He demands, voice so low you almost do a double take and when you don’t do immediately as he says, he just does it for you.

He moves you down the couch, turning your body around so your face is pressed into the cushion. Your ass raises in instinct and it grates you a smack across your right cheek. You cry into the couch, the soft skin rippling under his eyes. Then it’s his cock, slapping against you, before laying it flat between your asscheeks. “Fuck, look at that, I’m gonna split this little pussy apart.” You moan back at him, already hazy from just him humping against you teasingly. “Think you can handle it? Oh, you will, all of it—“ He is basically talking to himself right now, already drunk on you.

You are a little concerned, you have never taken something so big, but the thought of him not fucking you dumb is making you whimper like a bitch in heat. You don’t even recognize yourself. You press your ass back at him and Minho only slaps you again, but he finally at that guides his cock to your entrance. The sight of his precum mixing with yours is sending him over the edge, not believing that you are letting him fuck you raw, even if he sees it in the back of your mind. It makes him pull your head back roughly, wanting to watch you crumble on his cock.

You watch him from the corner of your eye, seeing the wild look in his eyes, pretty lips forming into ‘O’ as he finally pushes his tip inside of you. Just that is already too much, but you subconsciously push your hips back at him, swallowing another inch. He lets you adjust, because the way he will fuck you — you will need it. With only hallway through you already feel full to the brim, him already pressing against your cervix, but he is determined to fit all in. He knows you can do it and just after few moments, your ass is finally perfectly flush with his pubic bone.

Your walls suck him right in, wet, warm and soft. He wonders if he is the one being enchanted right now. His hand trails over the string of your garter belt again, loving the way it digs into your ass from how much you arch for him. Minho leans over you again, making him press into you even deeper and he sharply exhale at his tip basically breaks your cervix. “Feel that?” His hand falls down to press at the bulge on your lower tummy. “I’m in your fucking stomach that’s how fucking deep I am—“

“M-Minho—“ He enjoys his name falling from your mouth so much that he accidentally pushes a little too hard against your stomach. To his surprise you only moan louder, hips pushing against him. An open wide smile stretches across his face, watching you move your ass against him.

Your movements are put into stop rather quickly as he pulls out, before pushing into you again with a deep, long thrust. Your mouth is wide open, drooling on the couch already. You feel an abnormal tingling sensation, with his every move of his and with everything that happened that led to this moment it felt worth it. Your pussy molds into a form of his cock, making him smoothly pick up his pace. His one leg on the couch and the other on the ground gives him leverage and with the first sharp thrust of his, you both moan, the sound perfectly mixing with the wet slaps of your skins.

It’s not soft or loving, it’s hard. cock pushing with every move even deeper into you if it’s possible. You are too far gone to do anything other than to take him, your own hand pressing against the bulge in your stomach. It’s sickening how much you enjoy feeling his cock run into you under your hand. Minho has to hiss with every trust in your swollen cunt, hands pinching at your ass and pulling at the strings digging into you. “So g-good— ah!” Your face buries back into the couch, when he snaps at the string, skin burning.

Minho is literally going mad, thrust so harsh, that the couch rocks a little under you both. You can’t believe how much you enjoy feeling pain mixed with pleasure just like he enjoys doing it. The sight of your ass bouncing, hands tearing the material under you and mostly your sounds — he knows that he has to have you someday again. His hand pulls at your hair again, not even missing a beat as he pulls you to his chest. You can’t hold yourself on your own and he helps you rather kindly, with his hand on your neck again, but now he is not being gentle. “Fucking look at you—“ He laughs at your fucked out face staring up at him and he knows he is not looking any better. “Ever thought you would enjoy a demon cock this much?” You choke around the hand on your throat, legs shaking under you. He needs to see more of you, all of you. So he quickly pull out of you, not missing a beat and turning you around to lay you on your back again. You can’t even grumble, because he is inside you back again and the view you have is better than you could’ve asked for.

You don’t say anything, when he rips through the front of your corset, tits spilling out and bouncing immediately with his none stop movements. He spits down right at your nipple, making you gasp at how sensitive it is, feeling his thumb smear the liquid all over you, marking you. Your own hands dig into his hard chest, droopy eyes catching his, before he goes down to your neck, now biting roughly. It makes you arch your back, his sharp teeth piercing you and it doesn’t even hurt half as much as you thought it would.

Moaning, Minho licks at the small drops of blood, eyes rolling back into his head at your sweet taste. Everything about you was so fucking sweet, he can’t believe his own luck right now. Your nipples catch on his, letting you hug him close to you and with the trembling in your legs, he knows you are nearing your orgasm again. “I-I am close—“ You can’t even voice out your words with his rapid moves, feeling yourself drip down on the couch. Your clit rubs deliciously over his pubic bone and with you walls spasming you can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s getting close too. You just need so desperately something to get you over the edge, something that would make this experience even better and soon those words are spilling out of you. “P-please….kiss me.” You whimper in his ear.

Minho pulls away from your neck, seeing small smear of your blood on those plump lips. “I-I can’t.” He repeats the same words to you and you can’t help, but cry.

“Why?”

“It will tie us together, a kiss will ties us together and you will have to be mine forever.”

He is loosing himself, never he had thought about kissing someone, but yours lips — so perfectly bitten and definitely sweet as every part of you are calling his name. You hear his words, you realize what he is saying, but why would any of you want to end this so soon?

“I want it, I truly want it, Minho—“ Your hands press against each side of his flushed face, his eyes wide, going between your eyes and lips, before he finally leans in.

The whole room around you seems to be set on fire around you, tongues tangling around each other. You taste yourself on his lips and mostly him. You are moaning into him, biting down on his lip, like he did to your neck and he groans lowly when your own teeth breach his skin, mixing your blood now with his. “I’m yours—“ You mumble between kisses, just as you fall apart on him, squeezing him. Minho can’t help, but smile into the kiss, hips stilling as his cock swells, twitching inside of you. He fills with his warm cum, not stopping at kissing you. He will be here every day and every night like this for you and for himself, for eternity, because he found something more pleasure than anything else he ever knew.

And that was you.

2K notes · View notes

sunshineyuyu · 5 months ago

Text

stereo hearts (s. mg)

★ summary: mingi’s had a crush on you since his freshman year. you’re a year older than him, infinitely cooler, and you share a love for music. one night, you end up making out in the storage closet of the campus radio station you both work at, and you end up getting closer. ★ pairing: mingi x f!reader ★ genre: smut (mdni!!), college ★ word count: 5.6k ★ tags/warnings: radio station dj!mingi and reader, reader is a year older than mingi, mingi is a computer science major LOL, reader is described as shorter than mingi, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, mentions of nicotine vape, frat party, american college setting, kinda sub-y mingi, kinda dom-y reader, slight dumbification?, reader is just a little mean to mingi, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative piv sex (with a condom!), minor super background seongjoong ★ notes: this one was written as a gift for @starhwas-bunny huhu, my bestie beta <3 ftr i have never dj-ed for a university radio station so hopefully this isn’t a super inaccurate representation of that experience. ★ masterlist | read on ao3

in the three years since mingi started volunteering as a dj at the university radio station, the little room they broadcast out of has become something like a second home to him.

three out of four of the walls are covered floor to ceiling with shelves that sag from the amount of vinyls, cassette tapes, and cds crammed onto them. tucked into one corner is a mini fridge that was found abandoned after move-out day years ago, and sitting on top is a weak little keurig gifted by the previous faculty sponsor. there’s a musty old leather couch shoved against the singular non-shelved wall, and in the middle of the whole room is the desk, overloaded with several monitors, a keyboard, and the sound board. the whole room smells faintly like sour coffee and old grandpa, but mingi has learned to love it all the same.

tonight, though, mingi would rather be anywhere else than here. grumpily, he blinks at the red numbers of the digital clock on the corner of the desk. 02:13 AM, it reads. he wishes he could go back in time and take a different shift, but the mingi from a month ago never could’ve anticipated all the developments that have happened over the last few weeks.

first, his compilers assignment is kicking his ass. he’s been working tirelessly on it for three weeks now, but his results are still a little off and the due date is fast approaching at the end of the week. he doesn’t even have any classmates to fall back on for help, since he’s taking the course a semester ahead of his other friends, and he hasn’t had enough time to make new ones yet.

second, his best-friend-roommate yunho just got a new girlfriend, which means he’s been spending less time hanging out with mingi. mingi likes to think that he’s not too clingy or needy, but he misses the routine of waking up to the smell of yunho burning breakfast and then getting in a game of valorant together before going to bed. instead, he’s had to play nice with yunho’s new girlfriend whenever she invades their apartment with her neverending peppiness, and sleep with noise-canceling earbuds because he and yunho share a wall.

he’s sleep-deprived and stressed and lonely and really wants a goddamn hug from literally anyone.

but he’s forced to toil away in the tiny campus radio station studio, where the playlist he’d painstakingly arranged last week to blend seamlessly between songs does nothing to soothe his anxieties.

⋆⋆⋆

there’s still half an hour left of mingi’s shift, but he’s already queued up all the music and timed out the ads, so he’s mostly just focused on chipping away at his assignment. the adrenaline from the celsius he crushed when he first arrived is already started to fade, and mingi is seriously thinking about digging out the elfbar from the bottom of his backpack (that he promised yunho he’d throw away) to extend the last fumes of his focus.

this train of thought is thankfully interrupted by the door of the studio being thrown open unceremoniously.

“shit!”

even on a good day, mingi is a jumpy person, and having the blinding light of the hallway enter the dark studio with no warning makes his heart skip several beats. his knee jerks up on instinct, and it whacks painfully against the bottom of the desk.

“ah, oops. sorry!”

standing in the doorway, haloed in fluorescent light, and appearing practically angelic, is none other than you. you have enough wherewithal to at least look apologetic, but mingi doesn’t care either way because it’s you.

you’re a senior—one year above mingi—and the one who trained him to be a dj when he was a freshman. back then, he’d been starstruck by how outgoing you are, the way you’d tease him with the familiarity of a close friend even though you were practically strangers. you have this eclectic but broad taste in music, and he likes that you challenge him to listen to new artists and genres.

and of course—you’re fucking hot. you’ve always been beautiful, with shining eyes and a big wide smile. but over the years, you’ve changed your hair style, dyed the ends, gotten a couple of piercings and tattoos, and it’s been game over for mingi ever since.

so yeah, he’s had a crippling crush on you that’s only gotten worse with time.

“hi,” mingi says dumbly, massaging his knee where the pain has already mysteriously disappeared.

“hey!” you say breezily, beaming because it’s clear now that he won’t yell at you for scaring him.

“do you have the next shift?” mingi asks, using all his brainpower to compose a coherent sentence. he’s usually able to act relatively normal around you, but he’s all out of sorts right now, and it’s nearly 2:30 fucking am.

“oh, no,” you say. “i just really needed a caffeine fix, and this is the only place i could think of that’s still open on campus for me to get some.”

you both glance over at the sad excuse of a coffee station the studio has, and mingi lets out an undignified snort.

“it is what it is,” you sigh.

while mingi tries to think of a conversation starter, he turns back to his laptop so he’s not just staring at you like some lovesick puppy.

your normally styled hair is thrown into an afterthought of a bun, but mingi likes that he can see the elegant line of your neck and the line of silver hoops stacked along your ears. you’re also wearing those rimless bayonetta glasses that he loves, and he always gets distracted by the little sparkle charm you added that dangles from the hinge.

“aw man,” you say. “there aren’t any pods left.”

mingi glances up briefly from his laptop to see you pouting down at the little box where they usually keep the coffee pods.

cute, he thinks.

“hongjoong ordered more last week,” mingi says, waving towards the storage closet behind him. “but he hid them so people don’t try to steal them in bulk.”

at his words, you perk up and scamper towards the closet after dumping your backpack onto the couch.

with you out of sight, some of the nervous tension in mingi’s muscles finally bleeds out. mingi throws his glasses down onto the table and rubs at his weary eyes until he sees fireworks against the backs of his eyelids. he wishes he had even an ounce of the charisma that yunho has, but he’s so fucking tired right now that he can’t think of anything even remotely charming to talk to you about. eventually, he slams his forehead down onto the table and entertains the thought of knocking himself out. before he can let his imagination run too wild, he hears the sound of something heavy falling and a whispered “fuck!”

concerned, mingi straightens and rolls his chair closer to the threshold of the storage closet.

“you good?” he asks.

he forgot to put his glasses back on, so you’re really more of a blurry blob of a person, but somehow your sheepish smile still manages to come through.

“i found the pods!” you say brightly, pointing at a large cardboard box on the top shelf. “but, i can’t reach them.”

mingi huffs out a laugh and stands up. finally, it feels like something is going right for him tonight. you are short and need help, and mingi is tall and can help you.

he’s so hyper-focused on his task that he doesn’t think twice about crowding up behind you. doesn’t think twice about bracing one hand against your back to keep himself steady as he reaches with his other hand for the box. doesn’t think twice about leaning around your smaller frame to present you with the thing.

“here,” he says, except it comes out breathy and rough because he’s just stretched his body for the first time in what feels like ages.

he doesn’t realize how close your faces are until you utter a soft thank you, and the words ghost along his cheekbone. he shudders at the sensation, and all at once the rest of his brain and body come online to recognize the position you’re arranged in.

it’s cramped in the closet, and mingi’s a big guy. his entire front is pressed up against your back, and the hand he’d used to balance himself has somehow slipped down to your waist, and you’ve turned your head slightly so that you can look up at him.

mingi stares down at you, and you’re seriously so close that he doesn’t need his glasses to see the way your lips part, the way your eyebrows furrow.

“um,” he says intelligently.

oh-so-slowly, you push your glasses up onto your head and turn around to fully face him. like always, that stupid sparkle charm entrances mingi.

and then suddenly, he’s pulled down by the front of his shirt, and you surge up to meet him. your lips collide together with so much force that your teeth clack, but mingi doesn’t care because jesus fucking christ. he shoves the pods onto the nearest shelf to get his other hand onto your waist too. god, it’s been a while since the last time he’s made out with someone like this. while his mouth works furiously to remember how to kiss well, he fumbles his palms over the curves of your body. meanwhile, your fingers dance confidently along his chest and collarbones, finally curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. when you tug lightly, mingi actually whimpers.

he pulls back, embarrassed, but you look delighted.

“oh,” you breathe, grinning. “oh, fuck—make that noise again.”

mingi stares at you, uncomprehending and breathing like he’s just run a race. you tug again. mingi keens.

“cute,” you murmur. “c’mere.”

you don’t give mingi the chance to second-guess anything as you pull him back down. your chapstick tastes like peaches, and your tongue is doing things that mingi’s never felt before. you touch him everywhere—run your hands along his chest, his stomach, his back, his arms. mingi is putty in your arms, and he stops trying to hold back the sounds that you tease out of him.

you make out sloppily for what seems like hours. it’s so nice and mindless that mingi doesn’t even realize that he’s half-hard in his jeans until you finally take a step back.

like the fucking touch-starved idiot he is, he unconsciously leans forward to chase after you. in response, you grin and press a single finger against his chest to hold him off.

“it’s almost the next shift,” you say quietly. “we should probably get out of here.”

“oh,” mingi croaks, as reality settles back in. “oh. yeah.”

you peck the underside of his jaw, and then leave the storage closet.

mingi stays for a second longer, collecting himself. finally, he grabs the box of coffee pods and follows you back into the studio.

he can’t get a read on you as you wordlessly retrieve your backpack. he mirrors your movement, albeit more lethargically. he feels like he’s drunk or high or both, body moving sluggishly, and he’s so so confused.

jongho, who’s taking the 3 am shift, shows up in the middle of your silence as a much needed buffer. it takes mingi five minutes to hand over control, and when he’s done, he’s disappointed to see that you aren’t in the room anymore. dejected, he says goodbye to jongho and leaves the studio, only to find you waiting in the hallway.

you look up when he stops in front of you and smile at him.

“walk me to my car?” you say.

mingi smiles shyly back at you. “yeah. okay.”

you start down the hallway, but mingi halts abruptly. “didn’t you- um- your coffee?” mingi stutters. jesus, he really needs to pull himself together.

you quirk your head to one side and then takes a step into mingi’s space. your gaze darkens, and your smile stretches into a smirk.

“nah,” you whisper, reaching to drag your thumb along his bottom lip. “i got my fix.”

oh, mingi thinks giddily. she means me!

“c’mon,” you say, your face softening and your hand finding mingi’s. “it’s late.”

“yeah,” mingi says dreamily, trailing after you.

⋆⋆⋆

in the days following, mingi doesn’t see you at all.

this isn’t uncommon—you’re different years and majors, after all. but mingi is still bummed about it. he has your number, but he’s never texted you besides to talk about campus radio logistics. sometimes, you’ll send each other a new song or artist to nerd out over, but mingi feels like it’s a little too transparent if he texts you now when the last time you exchanged messages was weeks ago.

every night, though, mingi replays what happened in his head over and over again. how you had been the one to initiate, to guide and control the entire encounter—how that had turned him on in ways he’d never imagined. he tries vainly not to think about you when he jerks off, but right as he’s about to cum, his thoughts always stray to the way you’d tugged at his hair and cooed at his embarrassing noises.

in the aftermath, he’ll try to think instead of the way you held his hand while they walked to your car. the walk had been short but sweet. you’d been the one to intertwine your fingers, and mingi hadn’t been able to hide the stupid smile on his face as your hands swung between the two of you.

you’d given him one last kiss on the cheek before saying good night.

the rest of the night was a haze: walking to his car, driving home, falling asleep the moment his head hit his pillow without even changing out of his clothes.

⋆⋆⋆

it’s friday night, and mingi has managed to finish his godforsaken compilers assignment, so he’s planning on getting wasted.

mingi is still largely undecided on how he feels about yunho’s new girlfriend, but the one thing going in her favor is the fact that she’s the delta gamma social chair and—because of some bylaw somewhere—has automatic entry to every relevant frat party. she can even bring other people with her, as long as it’s not an egregious amount.

and that’s how mingi finds himself in the middle of an SAE party, just the right side of tipsy. he’s nursing a sweating can of beer and watching yunho and wooyoung absolutely destroy a couple of pledges at beer pong. when they win, mingi pounces on them, but ends up empty-handed as they’re each pulled into congratulatory embraces by their respective significant others.

suddenly, despite being surrounded by people, mingi feels incredibly lonely. it’s like he’s been doused in ice water, the way his head clears and his heart sinks. he knows it’s a passing feeling, knows that in two seconds his friends will turn their attention back to him, but the shots and beers from earlier tonight no longer sit right in his bloodstream.

under the guise of getting another drink, mingi ducks away from his friends and looks for someplace with a little more space and air. he wanders towards the yard, where there’s far fewer people. all of the lawn chairs available are already occupied, so mingi leans up against the wall and pulls out his phone. he’s two scrolls into his instagram feed when something collides into his side hard enough to make him let out a soft oof.

he thinks it must be some random drunk, but instead it’s—

you.

“mingi!” you shriek.

your arms wrap around his middle, and you gaze up at him with glazed over eyes. you’re wearing this tight black shirt with a big square neckline, and you’re all squished up against him so mingi gets an eyeful of your cleavage.

he swallows painfully.

“y/n!” he says, trying to match your energy without being as loud.

you peer around him, almost like you’re looking for someone else. “are you here by yourself?” you ask.

“no,” mingi says. “my friends are inside. i just wanted to get some air.”

“ah.” you nod sagely. “do you smoke? like—get high?”

mingi shrugs, and you bounce with glee. you drag him by the wrist over to a small cluster of people sitting around one of the few lawn tables available.

“sit sit sit!” you say, pushing him into the one empty chair before unceremoniously plopping yourself down in his lap. dumbstruck, mingi just sits there with his hands lying limply against the armrests as you shuffle around in his fucking lap to find a comfortable position. every ounce of his energy is going towards not popping a boner right now.

instead, he focuses on trying to recognize the people sitting around the table. there’s kim hongjoong, the president of your campus radio org, and his boyfriend park seonghwa. beside them is chaewon, your best friend, also sitting in the lap of some guy who mingi assumes is her boyfriend.

shit—what are these people assuming about him, then?

“here,” you say, thrusting a small object like a usb towards his lips. “take a hit of penelope.”

“penelope?” mingi’s like, still reeling from everything that’s happened in the last five minutes.

you giggle. “my pen. here.”

obediently, mingi leans towards and fits his lips around the tiny weed pen. it’s been a while since he last got high—yunho and wooyoung both run cross-country and don’t like messing around with drugs while they’re in season. he tries to take a shallow hit, but doesn’t end up getting anything, so he throws all caution to the wind and inhales deeply. the tangy sour smoke hits the back of his throat harder than the smooth mintyness of his elfbar, so of course—

he ends up coughing.

little puffs of smoke leave his mouth and nose as he splutters. thankfully, everyone barely laughs at him. in fact, hongjoong hands him a bottle of water which he chugs gratefully.

“sorry, been a while,” mingi rasps, when he finally manages to take a normal breath.

you hum and brush some of mingi’s hair behind his ear. “cute.”

this nearly sends mingi into another coughing fit, but he manages to just laugh breathlessly instead. clutching the water bottle to him like a lifeline, he sinks back into his chair so that maybe he can be less in the spotlight.

“—anyway,” chaewon says, and mingi lets out a sigh of relief at the turn of attention, “sannie, tell them about all the shit they made you do when you were a pledge.”

san—the one guy mingi didn’t know—sighs and pinches chaewon’s thigh.

“babe, you can’t just make me tell this story to everyone. trade secrets, and whatever.”

hongjoong snorts. “so they got you pretty good, huh?”

“goddamnit,” san is like.

so san regails them with the harrowing tale of him pledging SAE, and mingi finally lets himself relax. san has this soft, earnest voice, and it’s nice to listen to. at some point, you press penelope into his hand, and even later, mingi works up the courage to take another hit. this one is much more successful than the last, and gradually, mingi works up a nice buzz. it spurs him to tug you deeper into his lap, fit his hands around your waist—jesus, have you always been this small compared to him?

mingi has no idea how long he spends there, vibing with you and your friends. he’s halfway to asleep when suddenly he feels something trail along his jawline. he feels the telltale graze of lips against his skin, and his pulse jumps.

suddenly, he is incredibly awake.

you nose at his neck, leave the lightest of kisses. mingi becomes hyper aware of his surroundings, and finally realizes that conversation’s been dead for a while. chaewon is fully straddling san in his chair, and hongjoong and seonghwa have disappeared.

“you wanna get out of here?” you murmur.

“yeah. yeah.”

⋆⋆⋆

mingi is aware enough to shoot a text off to his group chat with yunho and wooyoung letting them know that he’s going home with someone. he feels an odd rush of validation from the subsequent onslaught of vulgar texts and emojis he gets in response.

your place isn’t far from greek row, so you walk there. once again, you have threaded your fingers together, and mingi is noticing for the first time just how small your hand is compared to his. with your other hand, you scroll through your spotify playlists, trying to find one that “fits the ambiance” of the walk before settling for one titled vaporwave vibes.

mingi is just happy to be involved.

you’re a giggly mess as you stumble-walk-run into your apartment.

“roommate—?” mingi asks, as two of you toe off your shoes, and you turn up the volume of your music.

“chaewon’s shacking up at the SAE house tonight,” you say, grinning. you lean in close to mingi and poke his nose. “so you can be as loud as you wanna be, baby.”

baby?!

you lead mingi to your bedroom, where you spare a few seconds to turn on a lamp that casts the room into a soft pink hue and plug your phone into a speaker. you choose a different playlist—one with soft r&b and lofi.

then, you crawl onto your bed, swaying your hips as you do. mingi just stares at you, suddenly very out of his depth. this feels infinitely different from making out in a storage closet. this is your apartment, your room, your bed.

you’re leaned back against your pillows now, head cocked and eyes half-lidded.

you spread you legs and beckon mingi to come closer.

“c’mon, baby. let’s have some fun, hm?”

like a man possessed, mingi steps forward until he hits the edge of the mattress, and then he falls onto his knees, shuffling forward until he’s hovering between your thighs.

“cute.”

mingi waits for you to make the first move, because that’s what he’s used to, and you do. you hook your hands around his neck and pull him down, presses your lips together chastely. mingi’s eyes flutter close, and he lets instinct take over.

you must be wearing something like lipgloss tonight, because your lips are tackier than last time, and they taste like cherry. mingi’s intoxicated by it. he deepens the kiss, adds some tongue. his hands run along your thighs, your hips, your waist.

you do that thing with his hair again, and he whimpers. he feels you smile. you move his hands over your chest, inviting him to really touch, and he moans involuntarily when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra under your shirt.

“take it off,” you breathe, and mingi obeys immediately.

“fuckk,” he whines when he sees your tits. “fuck—you’re so—”

he surges forward and fits his mouth over one of your nipples and sucks. this time, it’s you who moans, and the sense of triumph rushes straight to mingi’s dick. after only a few minutes of worshipping your tits, mingi is already so hard he could cut through glass.

“you, too,” you say, trying to pull off mingi’s shirt. “take this off—take it all off.”

so he strips. first his shirt, then his jeans. he curses as he struggles with the button and the zip—when choosing his outfit earlier, he’d only been thinking about how this pair are a little tight so they make his ass look good. now, he’s straining to get them off without looking like an idiot.

finally, he manages to tug the jeans down to mid-thigh, which means you get a better view of the outline of his cock in his briefs. at least he wore dark underwear so you can’t see the frankly embarrassing wet patch that mingi knows is there. he’s always leaked like a faucet.

"god, i knew you'd be big," you sigh as mingi finishes shucking off his pants ungracefully.

he freezes, feeling a little exposed but also a little bold.

"you- have you thought about me- this before?" he asks.

"of course," you smirk. "big shy boy like you? that's my favorite."

you sit up onto your elbows and reach forward with one hand to cup his bulge. you squeeze, and mingi keens. it takes every drop of mingi's self-control to not cum on the spot. instead he falls onto his forearms and buries his face into your neck.

“fuck,” he squeaks.

you continue to work his dick through his briefs, but with such a light, teasing touch that mingi starts rutting helplessly into your hand to get more friction. it’s been a while since someone else has gotten him off, and the weed is making him so so sensitive.

"wanna- wanna make you feel good," he pants, but he can’t stop grinding down against you like some stupid fucking dog.

"yeah?” you goad. “you wanna fuck me with your big dumb cock? do you even know how to use that thing?"

mingi whimpers. “yes, yes—please. let me- let me show you. please.”

“okay, big boy,” you whisper into his ear, finally letting him go. “show me.”

mingi doesn’t waste any time after that. he pulls off your pants and your underwear in one go. he’s practically drooling at the sight of your cunt and can’t help himself from running a finger reverently through your folds.

you’re wet.

because of him.

he drops down in front of your pussy and licks a line from your entrance to your clit. you fucking moan.

“yeah?” you say, all dominant like always but a little breathless. “you gonna prep me first? gonna prep me for your huge dick?”

in response, mingi attaches his mouth to your clit and buries a finger into your hole.

“ah—fuck!”

one finger turns into two into three quickly, as mingi works you open, all while lapping at your clit. he has limited experience with this so he’s not super confident in his ability, but you’re making these high-pitched noises that must mean he’s doing something right. and then you tug at his hair, forcing his head back.

“thought you were gonna fuck me?” you say.

“yes, yeah, sorry.”

mingi has enough wherewithal to ask about condoms and lube, and while he tugs off his underwear, you retrieve the stuff from your nightstand. he’s so keyed up that he fumbles the condom, can’t get a good grip to tear it open, and finally resorts to biting one corner with his teeth to rip off an edge. it works, and he spits out the little piece of foil somewhere onto the bed beside them.

“oh, fuck.” he hears, and it’s the first semblance of a whine from you.

with renewed vigor, mingi rolls the condom onto his dick, hissing at finally getting some stimulation after being hard and untouched for so long.

“c’mon, c’mon,” you say, throwing the lube at him. “hurry up.”

he squeezes some of the lube onto his hand—there’s a light red sheen to it and a faint scent of cherry. feverishly, he thinks the smell of cherries is going to be ruined for him forever as he spreads the lube over the condom.

and then he presses just the tip into your entrance, and already he knows he’s not going to last long. you’re just too warm, too wet, too tight.

“jesus,” he whimpers, as he presses deeper into your cunt. “you’re fucking perfect.”

“fuck,” you groan. “you’re so fucking big.”

“gonna- gonna make you feel good,” mingi promises. “gonna fuck you so good.”

when he’s finally bottomed out, he takes a second. he hopes it looks like he’s just being considerate of his size, but really it’s mostly for himself, to make sure he’s not a one thrust wonder. and then you clench around him.

“fuck!”

it startles him into moving—with a strong grip on your thighs, he thrusts into you with so much force that the bed frame groans.

“ah- yeah, baby. just like that. fuck, so good. so good, so big—so full. fuck!”

you babble nonsense into his ear, but every syllable fuels mingi’s determination. he snaps his hips against yours until his thighs burn, and then some more. but even in spite of his sheer will, mingi is just a guy finally fucking the girl of his dreams, and so his orgasm sneaks up on him entirely too fast.

“oh, fuck. oh, fuck. i’m sorry, i’m sorry—i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna—”

he collapses onto you as he spills into the condom, his entire body twitching with pleasure from the sensation. seconds later, shame and guilt wash over him. he pulls out and crawls down your body to shove his face into your cunt.

he fingers you while he eats you out again, this time quirking his fingers for your g-spot. he’s delirious and desperate—needs to prove that he’s not just some guy who cums without getting off his partner. needs you to enjoy this as much as he is—needs you to want more.

“yeah, yeah, that’s a good boy,” you praise as he laps at your cunt like it’s his job. “so good, baby boy. so good. yeah, just like that—gonna cum. gonna—”

mingi can’t help himself. he pulls back when you climax so that he can watch. he finger-fucks you through it, but his focus is on the way your face scrunches up with euphoria, the way your back arches off the bed in pleasure.

finally, you shove his hand away.

“‘s too much,” you mumble, burying your face into your pillows.

mingi collapses down beside you, completely spent.

he comes to a few minutes later, when he feels the bed shift as you sit up. he must make some kind of noise, because you duck down close, brush the sweaty hair off of his forehead and kiss his temple.

“shh,” you soothe. “it’s okay. you can rest, baby. i’ll clean us up.”

“wait—let me help,” he slurs, starting to sit up.

“no no,” you coo, pushing him back down. “don’t worry, baby. i got it.”

mingi hums, too tired and spent anyway to argue. it’s nice, for once, to be the one being taken care of. he snuggles contently deeper into the bed.

it smells like sex and sweat, but also something kinda sweet. oh, right—cherries.

he drifts off to sleep soon after.

⋆⋆⋆

the next morning, mingi wakes up disoriented, pleasantly sore, but incredibly well-rested. the weed helped offset the alcohol, and the only grossness he feels is from not showering or brushing his teeth before falling asleep.

the bed is unfortunately empty, but the smell of fresh coffee in the air keeps mingi from spiraling too much about it. he lopes around the room, searching for his clothes. he locates those godforsaken tight jeans (which take him far too much effort to stuff himself back into), but doesn’t manage to find his shirt, so he sheepishly wanders into the kitchen shirtless like a moron.

the mystery of his shirt is solved immediately when he sees that you are wearing it. the hem falls right below your ass, and when you move a certain way, mingi can see the bottoms of your cheeks and the hint of black panties.

jesus, even after having the orgasm of his life last night, he’s still so easy.

“morning!” you chirp, when you notice his presence.

“morning,” mingi rasps. “can i- uh- can i help with anything?”

you pause to shoot him a big smile. “no, don’t worry, baby. just sit down. there’s coffee in that mug over there. milk in the fridge.”

mildly stunned at the revelation that your pet names aren’t exclusive to sexy time, mingi follows your instructions. he retrieves a carton of oat milk from the fridge and adds it to his coffee before hopping on a barstool at the kitchen island. he positively inhales the coffee, which must be some kind of special blend because it’s especially fragrant, and watches you bustle around the kitchen with efficiency.

the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, and it’s strangely intimate—domestic—but mingi doesn’t let that part of his imagination run too wild. for his own sanity, it’s probably best if he just takes whatever this is with you one day at a time.

soon, you slide a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast in front of him. you prance into the barstool beside him, nudging it closer so that your knees touch under the countertop.

it smells heavenly, reminds him of weekend breakfasts with his own family, and before he can stop himself, he says,

“thanks, mommy.”

it’s the kind of shithead joke he pulls with yunho and wooyoung often, but with you, it drips with subtext. over the rim of your coffee cup, you raise an eyebrow at him, and he feels his entire face heat up with embarrassment.

“i mean- um—”

“didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff,” you coo. “guess i’ll have to remember that for next time.”

mingi digs into his eggs so that he doesn’t have to look you in the eye while he processes that. next time?!

the rest of breakfast passes uneventfully. you take the reins of the conversation, yapping about your thoughts on chaewon’s frat bro boyfriend. mingi gives all the appropriate reactions at the appropriate times and just basks in the joy of eating a home-cooked breakfast the morning after having sex with his long-time crush.

later, mingi will rinse off your dishes and load them into the dishwasher, and you will return his shirt to him before sending him off with another chaste kiss to the cheek. mingi decides to walk back to his own apartment even though it’s nearly a mile away. but the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and his phone—barely hanging on with 10% battery—buzzes in his pocket with a single text:

y/n l/n has invited you to collaborate on a playlist: mommy issues ;)

#mingi #mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi smut #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #ateez smut #ateez images #[sunsh writes]#sunshineyuyu fic

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greenpurplemylove · 6 months ago

Text

Biggie In The City Lights🪙 (PJS)

→ pairings: ceo! husband! jay x corporate worker! female! reader.

synopsis: rough handsy sex with Jay in front of a mirror after you gave him a hard-on while he was at work.

→ genre: smut, angst and fluff.

-> now playing: TiO, Zayn.

-> wc: 5,6k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, dom! jay x sub! reader, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), pwop, mentions of getting reader pregnant, cunnilingus and pet names (daddy, baby, pretty girl, darling, doll, sex doll).

-> A/N: basically you and jay are corporate workers, you both just work in different companies, and jay just happens to be a ceo in one. yea3x I know I’m very VERY late to the party, but mostly bcs this semester has been a fucking train-wreck for me, so I just had to keep up w my peers. this is purely self indulgent btw, I can't help myself the man has just been hitting so different for me, like damn I need him and I need to recreate every Juno position w him. yea so 5k+ words of straight up porn that I could cough up so pls leave a like, reblog, and comment haha. anyways, enjoy. not proofread btw!

smut tags under the cut!

smut tags: mirror sex, back shots, missionary, bondage (jay ties your hands behind your back with his belt), tit sucking, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, and breeding kink.

🪙

“Spread your legs.” he murmured at the shell of your ear as he glanced at your figure in the mirror.

His hands sliding further up your lacy emerald green brassiere as you complied like a servant.

His usual gentle touch was laced with erotic rush, the flesh of your breast and your nipples hardening against his palm jolted arousal straight to his dick as if he hasn’t gotten used to touching them every now and then.

You’ve had your fair share of fucks all over your shared apartment. The bed, most certainly. The shower. The couch. The coffee table. The kitchen island. And occasionally, the floor.

Though tonight how ever, he decided to switch things up. Prompting instead to have you bent over the dressing table,

ass plump against his bulge and tits spilling against your bra like twin peak mountains in front of the mirror,

all for him to relish and ruin after having to deal with your promiscuous actions for the day.

Your ‘promiscuous’ actions being none other than you getting him all worked up and hard in a club while he was having a conversation with his work colleagues.

Noting that he was already too tired and horny for you to be interested in the conversation in the first place though.

The lewd pictures you sent to him prior to this was the only thing running through his mind.

The pictures you sent to him of you spreading your bare pussy with your fingers for him while he was at an important board meeting that very noon,

made him all the more sexually frustrated he was at you when you came in the front door of the club.

Even in your near messy clothing after work made him all worked up. If he squinted his eyes a little bit he swore he could imagine the soft pink after sex glow looming over your cheeks as the shot he took oozed down his throat like liquid fire.

But ultimately, as the night passed by, the touch of your palm stroking dangerously upwards against his thigh was what made him snap and stood up quicker than lightning, as he was already in his breaking point and your touch sent him over the edge.

Leaving a quick getaway excuse to his co-workers just to take you hand-in-hand with him as you exited the club, his grip a little tighter than you might like.

Indicating his overbearing, almost leaking frustration at you.

“Holy fuck.” he spoke, dazed at the view in front of him similar to a pubescent teenagers’ reaction at discovering porn for the first time.

You pressed your lips together as an attempt to hold back your moans.

Feeling his fingers caressing the band of your underwear that was covering your clothed cunt. It didn’t take long for him, however, to strip that pretty pair of underwear from your body.

Leaving your bare folds on display for him similar of that to a page on a playboy magazine.

The smell of the sandalwood and cinnamon scented diffuser in front of you drove further up your nose, his eyes molted in arousal as he eyed you through the mirror,

taking in your salacious expression as you both made eye contact.

Your eyes trailed to his right palm through the mirror as he lifted it before hurling it down making you let out a yelp as he roughly smacked your ass,

the sound echoing against the walls of your shared bedroom.

“Don’t you look at me like that y/n.” his tone firm as his palm came down on your ass again, this time it made your body almost lurched forward against the dresser at the mercy of his palms. “Not after what you’ve put me through today.”

You can only gasp and yelp at the feeling as he clasped your wrists behind your back with a single hand, an ideally intimate replacement for a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

The forceful blow of his palm left a stinging sensation on your ass, but being the gentle natured man at heart that he was, he spared a few merciful strokes after every mistreatment as an attempt to help sooth the stinging feeling.

“Jongseong.” you moaned as he stroked your ass that was red from all the harsh strikes done by his slender veiny hands,

feeling the corners of your eyes tearing up as you tugged on your bottom lip, tilting your head to the side.

Too flustered to see the pornographic view on the mirror in front of you.

“You’re not being fair.” you whined as you looked pass your shoulder, letting out a sigh as you see his hand spreading your ass apart.

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you,

“How so?” the tone of his voice sweet like honey to your ear, contrary to his previous vices.

You could only sigh at the mercy of fingers, as they spread your folds. The view of your glistening entrance made him almost weak in the knees,

his eyes softened as you doted his features through the mirror, his cheeks grew cherry red and his gaze spilling with lust at the sight in front of him.

“I’m already half naked and your still fully dressed.” you spoke, the erotic shame nearly muting your lips as they pursed and eyes widen,

silently begging for him to start stripping his opaque, sleeve-wrinkled white shirt off of his shoulders as you eyed him through the mirror.

Praying to see his muscle contorting at every move and to feel his naked skin against yours.

Your silent prayer was then met with a scoff as your eyes met in the mirror. A devilish smirk pried from his soft pink lips as he eyed you like he had his fingers wrapped around you.

When in fact, he does quite literally have his fingers wrapped around you. Gripping onto your body so tightly you were sure they’d scar in the morning.

“I’m only being fair darling.” he spoke with his sultry tone, hot as the summer sun.

His lips then latched onto your lower back, just above where he’d clasped your hands together making you sigh as his kisses trailed upwards.

As his lips traced to the back of your neck, in a swift quick motion, he casted aside your hair onto one shoulder before gently looping it around his palm, pulling your head slightly upwards,

your neck exposed to him more than ever as his lips started kissing, sucking, and bitting on your neck. The sensation of his lips was enough to make your insides pool wet.

A moan slipped pass your lips as you feel his tongue grazing over your weak spots, feeling his smile forming against your skin making you tug on your bottom lip and roll your eyes back as a response.

You feel a shiver down your spine as you feel his breath coming closer towards your ear, making you press your lips together as he bit a small part of your ear.

“Tell me baby, do you like it when I do this to you?” he whispered at the shell of your ear, the deep sultry tone of his voice made your pussy throb as his words and touch set a vicious spark trailing down to the pit of your stomach.

You wanted to speak, you really did. But the feeling alone preyed you into silence as his eyes landed on your face through the mirror, vicious, lustful, and hungry only for you.

The heat on your face grew warmer as you felt him tug on your hair making you lean your head to face him, before he latched his lips on to yours.

The kiss grew rough and passionate as he slipped his tongue in making you let out a moan before he pulled away abruptly.

“I know you can tell me y/n, I can see it at the tip of your tongue.” he whispered as his lips trailed kisses on your neck making you let out a whine before he pulled away from your back completely.

A cold wind coming through your back at the loss of his warmth, sending shivers down your spine as you feel your nipples harden at the sudden gush of cool air.

“I thought you’d be the one to talk, after those pictures you sent me while I was at work.” he teased as he let go of the hand that was gripping your hands together before spreading your ass as he watched your slick pooling against your folds.

Your hands gripped onto the sides of the dresser as you felt the rush of pleasure surging over your veins.

“Did you enjoy teasing me? Did you love the fact that I got a hard on at work because of you?” he whispered rather harshly making you press your lips together as he pressed his clothed bulge against your entrance making you let out a whine.

He sighed as he watched the zipper cover of his formal cotton pants slowly stained wet from your slick. He let out a silent groan as he gripped onto your waist, forcing you to grind on his clothed cock.

His eyebrows knitted together and his mouth hung loose, lost at how good your folds felt against him. Soaked and bare just for him.

You rolled your eyes back at the sensation, grinding harder against him, making him let out a moan.

All of a sudden his movement halted, your eyes widen in wonder as you looked at his face through the mirror.

“Fuck it.” was the last thing you heard him whisper before unclasping his belt. Removing it from his jet black pants as he used it to tie your hands together behind your back, making you let out a whine.

“Jongseong, please no, I wanna touch you.” you begged as your face grew redder. But your words were only met with a harsh slap to your ass making you yelp.

“Then you should’ve thought about that about before sending me those nudes.” he whispered as his words were laced in arousal, frustration, and dominance with every syllable pouring from his lips.

Unzipping his pants and boxers before stripping them off of his body and shoving it to the side unceremoniously.

His rock hard dick already in between your ass cheeks at dial speed before his hands caressed the sides of your body as he kissed your shoulders longingly.

The sweet taste of your bare skin worked him up like no other. The smell of your everyday perfume still thinly clinging onto your skin as they trickled up his nostrils, adorning him with a comforting familiar scent.

You moaned as you felt his hands stroking up your bra, kneading your bare breasts ever so selfishly before unclasping your bra gently, removing them from your body and discarding them to the side.

Pressing your back against his chest, his arms cling over your shoulders making you let out a faint gasp as you felt his arm lightly choking on your throat, the pressure enough to send sparks straight to your cunt.

Taking the bottom part of his shirt in his teeth, eyeing your lustful expression that was staring right back at him through the mirror before lining his cock up against your entrance, beckoning you to spread your legs further.

His tip now grazing against your entrance, teasing it momentarily as you feel him slowly pushing in, making you roll your eyes back at the mercy of his cock stretching your walls.

You yelped as soon as he began to thrust into you, taken a back by his actions when he didn’t even give time for you to adjust.

It wasn’t like you needed to adjust much, considering how good he fucks you and how he makes sure your pussy molds into the shape of his cock every single time.

“Jongseong!” you gasped as his rhythm grew frantic, his cock burying himself deep in your pussy with every thrust.

His eyebrows knitted together in concentration, letting out a groan as the fabric of his shirt dropped above your ass, the soft cotton grazing against your sensitive skin sending shivers up your spine.

For a moment his thrusts paused, the grip of his elbow soon left your throat as he gently placed you against the vanity table, your chest pressed against the cool wooden surface before he resumed his rough pace. Making you let out a loud moan.

Every thrust of his hips pushed you further against the dressing table, his dick exploring every single inch of your pussy. Your moans grew louder as waves of pleasure surged over your body almost intensely.

The squelching sounds of your wet thrusts echoed against the walls, the sounds leaving your mouths and the vanity slamming against the wall adding to the obscenity making it all seem like a sluttier recreation of a porn clip you’d find on twitter, only in this version none of you were faking it.

“Fuck y/n, you take me so fucking good.” he cooed as he leaned his head back, eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched.

A string of curses leaves his lips as he watches his cock coated with your juices. Coating him thicker with each dive he took into your pussy, trickling down to the fabric of his shirt, tinting them darker, marking them in glistening erotic sin.

“Holy shit.” you whimpered as your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming pleasure. Feeling the vanity table beneath you shook as you jerked forward with every push of his cock, his dick buried to the hilt of your cunt every time.

The mirror shook. The cabinets under the vanity shook. The items on the table shook harshly, threatening to fall off the table.

For a moment you were scared that the dresser would break from how good he was fucking you. How good his dick felt filling your pussy up at such a pace.

But all of those thoughts grew blurry and numb in your head as you lost every sense of self you had left at the mercy of his cock.

Slowly numbing your mind and your body at every given thrust, fucking you dumb.

Your mind was hazy like a cloud until you felt his hand gently grabbing your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth hung loose as you felt his dick caressing your spot, eyebrows knitted together as your face turned bright red against the mirror.

Your face was a sweaty mess. The flush on your cheeks prominently displayed whilst your eyes slowly empties out at his mercy, tears forming on the edge of your eyes, your lipstick smeared all over your lips and mouth, and your mascara leaking down onto the apples of your cheeks.

Soon, you felt the smooth fabric of his shirt mixed in with the heat of his skin pressing against your back.

“Look at you.” he whispered against the shell of your ear as he continued to thrust his dick into you making you roll your eyes back and whimper. “You take me so well pretty girl.”

“Coating my dick with your pussy, fuck, what a sight.” you moaned his name as you felt his hand spreading your ass open, giving him a better view of your pussy drenching his cock completely.

“So pretty for me.” he groaned as he lopped your hair around his palms, tugging on it harder, giving you a clearer view of yourself in the mirror.

Your body was coated in a thin layer of sweat from how hard your body was pressed against the table. The sight of your breasts glistening in sweat made his cock twitch inside of you, a hiss seeping through his lips as a result.

Your eyes trailed down to your stomach, the bulge of his dick visible in your lower stomach every time he buries his cock deep inside you, making you whine as his thrusts grew slower but harsher, your body lurching forward every time he slips into you, leaving you feeling so good and lost in your own pleasure at his mercy. “So fucking pretty for me.”

“Tell me pretty girl, why’d you sent those pictures?” he whispered as he leaned forward, pressing his clothed chest against your back as his eyes bore holes into your expression, sharp and precise, ready to have you completely spent at his touch.

You could only whimper and moan, oblivious to his question as he angled his dick right at your spot. Making your legs instantly jelly-like with every thrust as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

Anything but pleased with your silence, he groaned in frustration before leaning back, pulling your hair harder, and sending a harsh slap down your ass making you let out a loud moan. “Answer me.”

His tone low and firm, almost impatient for your answer as he continued to fuck you like his own personal sex doll. Doing anything and everything just to toy with you, just to have you so close to your orgasm then ripping it away from you, just to torture you enough to leave you coming back for more.

Truth be told, he loved fucking you like this. He loved fucking you hard and rough, it was perfect to get the anger and frustration of running a whole damn company out of him. He loves it even more when he knows how much you liked it as well.

At first he was reluctant to fuck you that way, since he’s worried he might accidentally hurt you at some point. Staying true to the gentle-natured ways of his upbringing.

But thankfully, after some reassurance from you, he fucked you like a mad-man that hid behind a finely tailored suit and he has never looked back since. It drives him especially hard when you go to lengthy measures just for him to have you bent over, moaning and screaming as he fucks you over and over again.

Tonight definitely became one his favorite moments with you. Your body felt like heaven sent him a personal care package and the fact that he gets to see almost every angle of your body through the mirror, front to back while he fucks your tight drenched pussy raw, drives him insane in the best way possible.

The silent sigh leaving your lips grounds him back to reality, a silent snicker leaking pass his seditious smirk. His dimples showing on one end of his lips. Like pin-sets pinching a small part of his pink, flushed, arousal-glistened cheeks as he watches your lips struggling to form proper audible sentences.

“Don’t be so tight-lipped doll, tell me and I promise I’ll fuck you exactly how you want me to.” he whispered at the shell of your ear making you weak in the knees as his thrusts grew slower. His words made you weak, oh so weak. You couldn’t help but melt at his voice, his deep sultry voice that practically pried your lips open to speak amidst the overwhelming pleasure.

“I want you.” your lips finally loosens, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his tip grazing against your cervix.

“Wanted you to fuck me like this.” you continued earning a satisfied smirk from him as he thrusted into you making you yelp, his pace gradually increasing.

“Like this doll?” he whispered as his hand gripped the table beside you while his other hand held onto your waist. You nodded in response, his smirk growing wider as you let out an audible ‘mhm’.

Soon after the table beneath started shaking again, this time your shared items started rolling down the vanity and onto the cold ceramic floor beneath you, a silent testimony to the erotic sight going on above them.

Your moans grew louder as you feel the knot in your stomach becoming impossibly tight, a string of curses leaking from your lips followed in pursuit.

Feeling his orgasm growing near, his thrust grew sloppier, the pleasure coursing through his body becomes almost overwhelming as he leans his head back, eyes rolled back, letting out a soft string of moans. Engulfing himself deeper at the oh so wonderful feeling of your walls clamping down onto him, sending him into a dopamine induced state of pleasure.

He was lost. Completely lost. Feeling your cervix clinging onto his tip, edging him closer to his high.

Oh, how good it would look like to have you cumming all over the dresser under his touch. He had it all envisioned in his head. The way your legs would shake from your orgasm, whilst he gave it to you just the way you like it, rough and passionate.

And since you were now married, he could cum inside you all he wants, with your permission that is. He envisioned the way you’d react when he fills your pussy up with his cum, imagined having it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. But being the person that cherishes a more traditional preference, he had other plans.

A strand of curses slipped pass your lips as you felt him pull out of you completely, followed by a disappointed whine as you watched him straighten his posture, unclasping your hands from his belt.

You straighten your back as you glanced at him almost confused, whilst he looked at you up and down, bitting his bottom lip as he caressed the sides of your body making you let out a sigh.

“Y/n, as much as I would love to see you come undone in front of the mirror-” he looked at you through the mirror before grabbing your waist, pressing your back against his clothed chest, his lips pressing against your ear as he whispered. “I’d love it even more to see you cum all over our bed.”

Shit, you were a goner at this point.

Absolutely fucking gone at his words. It felt like liquid magic seeping into your skin, feeling it coursing through your veins, sending shivers up your spine as you nodded, glancing at him through the mirror.

His sharp gaze piercing you like his personal prey as he started sucking at your neck, leaving hickeys all over while his hands cupped your breasts, thumb circulating your hardened nipples making you lean your head back against his shoulder blade,

eyes screwed shut feeling his dick wet with your slick grazing against your ass whilst his head propped back right next to your earlobe, his mouth softly nibbling at your ear making you sigh. “Would you like that y/n*?*”

“Fuck yes jongseong.” you complied completely as your body clung to his touch. Feeling the usual comforting smirk arousing against your skin, his eyes looking at your salacious expression, trailing kisses from your neck to your shoulder.

“Then get on the bed for me pretty girl.” he whispered in your ear before pulling away.

Getting on the bed with your back facing the sheets, he soon followed on top of you before swiftly unbuttoning his white blouse.

A stadium wide cheer erupted in your head as your hands stretched forward to caress his bare chest like clockwork, helping him discard the last piece of clothing that was depriving you from feeling his bare skin against yours.

His skin felt warm and soft against your finger tips, muscles tensing and relaxing at your touch.

The way your hands grazed against his body excites him, as if he’s never gotten used to your sensually comforting touch. With anticipation and desire leaking from your touch, he could feel how impatient you’ve become since he had you bent over in front off the mirror just moments ago.

The way you looked under him as well could have sent him over the edge. Your face glossed with a thin coat of sweat, a few of your baby hairs sticking to your forehead, tits practically looking like they’re begging to be sucked off by his mouth, legs spread, thighs plump, revealing your glistened pussy like a Christmas dessert for the upper echelons, all for him to relish and indulge himself in.

All for him only.

A sigh seething through his lips as he eyed you with all the lust, passion, and love he had in the world for you. You looked like goddess beneath him. So beautiful and captivating, all for him.

He dove his lips onto yours in an instant. Melting into a passionately desperate kiss, only you as his thumb brushed against your clit, earning a moan from you, eyes closed, mouth open in pleasure.

Your head moving slightly away from his lips at the sudden soft rotating motion of his thumb, before he cupped your cheeks, almost forcing you to face him before slipping his tongue into your mouth, cupping your lips against his once again.

Your fingers draped against his hair, caressing them as your tongues lapped against each other, fighting for dominance. That wasn’t until he pulled away from you, a string of saliva still clinging between your tongues whilst he starts lowering himself, sucking on every inch of your skin until his lips landed on the valley between breasts.

Like clockwork, cupping your breast in his mouth, his tongue began to swirl against your hardened nipples making you let out a silent gasp and moan.

“Jongseong.” you moaned as you felt his lips sucking, pulling and tugging on your tit, releasing them with a loud ‘pop’ as it bounced back onto your body. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his thumb started circling your clit faster while his mouth continued his lewd vises on your tits, sending you into an overdrive of pleasure after the previous build-up.

“Shit.” you cursed as your fingers ran through his hair, moving his bangs away just to get a better view of him sucking your breasts. As you did so he stared up at you, eyes so sharp and intense all while his lips clasped down onto your left tit, his teeth bitting lightly onto your nipple.

“God y/n, I need you.” he spoke moving upwards, taking your lips again, the kiss more desperate than the last. Pulling away for a moment, giving you an opportunity to push him further against the edge, your mind pried your lips open to speak, to speak of something lewd enough to get him to put his dick inside of you, to make you reach a heaven-like orgasm.

“Give it to me then.” his pupils dilated at your words, pulling away as your legs hung against his hips, lust and love swirling amidst his eyes, the dark dimly lighted room dramatized the intense gaze spilling from his eyes, your lips parted open and eyes dazed. “Give it to me jongseong.”

With a sigh leaving his lips, he hung your legs against his shoulders in an instant, aligning his cock right at your entrance, drunk in the mere effect of your words, wanting nothing but to have your lips parted open, screaming and moaning his name under him all night, like a melodious track record that only he gets to listen to on repeat.

Gripping onto your hips, soothing the sides of your body, he slips his dick inside of you, your pussy drenched already mixed with the feeling of his pre-cum lingering inside your walls. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his tip hitting your cervix.

“Your gonna be the death of me baby.” he spoke as he soothed your legs, his previous actions contrary to the sharp thrusts that came after. The bed frame shook, the squelching sounds of his thrusts overwhelmed both yours and his ears, your moans and his groans echoed across the room.

His dick was exploring every single inch of your pussy at every thrust and you fucking loved it. You thought it couldn’t get any better, that was until you felt him angling his thrusts onto your sensitive buds that sent you closer than ever to reaching your orgasm. The knot in your stomach threatening to unwind.

“Oh fuck jongseong.” you cooed as you feel your orgasm growing near.

“Gonna cum jongseong, gonna cum.” you sobbed as tears started pooling at the edge of your eyes, a satisfactory smirk appeared in his lips, indulging in your sex-induced expression he inflicted on you, enjoying every moment of it as he feels himself getting closer to his own high.

“Hold it in for me for awhile yeah?” he spoke softly, his hand going up to stroke your cheek, calming down your nerves. His lips trailing kisses from your jaw to your lips, feeling his thrusts gradually slowing down, melting into a tender, loving manner.

Your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin, mouth agape, eyes shut, back arching from the pleasure of it all. He hissed at the sensation, the pain further fueling his desire for you.

“Y/n you feel so good inside me, fuck.” he moaned, feeling your chest pressing against his.

“Jongseong, wanna cum with you.” you spoke under him amidst your broken moans and whimpers.

“I know baby, I’m gonna cum.” he whimpered as he feels himself twitching against your slick velvety walls that was hugging him so tightly, so lovingly. “Tell me baby, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside, please.” he halted for a moment, eyes wide looking at you from your request, almost as if he was taken aback, hearing such lewd request seeping past your lips.

“Y/n, are you sure?” his eyebrows raised in curiosity as his eyes trailed your body, your knees shook and twitched at his gaze, hips bruised red from the his grip, the look in your eyes begging for him to fill you up.

“We’re married now right?” you asked as you lifted your head up to reach his ear, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. Blood surging through his veins as you did, anticipating your answer, bodies already hot and needy for each other.

“I want you to put a baby in me.” you spoke in a seductive, almost desperate tone.

It felt like his whole world came into a pause, the image of you pregnant with his child coming into view, him becoming a father to your child, it all felt so desirable and irresistible to him. Especially with the way he was so so close to giving it to you.

He’d dodge a bullet if you asked him to, he would even go to hell and back if it meant he could have you in his arms. And here you are now, giving him the permission that he’s dreamt of having since he got down on one knee for you. So really, who was he to deny giving you what you want?

“Fuck.” he cursed as he placed your legs on his hips, hands gripping onto your inner thigh tighter than ever before, just enough to have you sighing in pleasure, just enough to give him a wider view of his cock going in and out of your pussy.

“You really want me to do that?” he cooed as he looked up at you, gaze almost piercing, silently begging for you to have meant what you said.

He shuttered at the feeling of your walls clenching onto him as you gave him a nod.

“Give it to me, daddy.” you said wide eyed, pupils dilated, wanting nothing more than for him to knock you up.

He sucked in his breath, letting out a deep sigh as he eyed you lustfully before proceeding to fuck you so hard, you were seeing stars. Sobs of pleasure flung across the room, leaving your lips with each thrust of his hips. “Want me to give you my cum huh?”

“Want me to make you a mom huh? You wanna make me a daddy?” he cooed against the shell of your ear, his tone contradicting the rough and demanding thrusts of his hips that made your eyes roll back as you gripped onto the sheets harshly that your knuckles turned white.

“Yes daddy.” you repeated as your visioned turned white as well. He was fucking into you with his cock twitching at every clench and flutter of your walls. He was close, so close, and so were you.

“Take it then y/n, take it all.” He chocked out, jerking his cum into you, painting your walls with it, letting your orgasm wash over you as his followed shortly.

You sighed at the feeling of his cum filling you up past your cervix, leaving you breathless as he pulled out and plopped down next to you, out of breath.

You were both of breath as he cupped your cheek, making you look at him as he dotted at your sore and fucked-out expression, giving him something to reminisce about once he’s back in his office by monday.

He smiled at you, the apples of his cheeks glistening from sweat as he kissed you tenderly before pulling away. You smiled back at him as you nuzzled your face against his neck, your hand pressing against his bare chest, feeling your pulse and his still surging frantically, gradually steadying down from the high.

His hands immediately wrapped around you, sweeping back your sweaty hair as he nestled his head on top of yours. Giving you a loving kiss on your forehead as he stroked your hair in between his fingers.

“Jongseong.” you called his name out tiredly, making him let out a small hum as he looked at you. He smiled at you, almost as if he was reading your mind.

“You want me to run you a warm bath?” he offered as you nodded immediately, smiling and giving him a peck on the lips as a thank you note making him chuckle before he slowly carried you to the bathroom in his arms.

It felt as though each of your problems have disappeared. Leaving the demanding world outside the comforts of your apartment for the night as you bathed with him. Feeling contempt, comfortable, and loved in his arms.

#jay smut #park jongseong smut #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #jay x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #smut #kpop #enhypen smut

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sweettu1ips · 4 months ago

Text

PAIGE BUECKERS x SINGER!FEM READER

SYNOPSIS: "Between tangled sheets and whispered apologies, they find each other again—lost in heat, regret, and the promise of something new."

WARNING(S): (18+) ⋮ smut ⋮ fuck buddies gone wrong(idfk) ⋮ explicit sexual content ⋮ oral r!recieving ⋮ strap usage ⋮ pnv ⋮ edging(ish) ⋮ overstimulation ⋮ rough(ish) ⋮ dom!Paige ⋮ sub!Reader ⋮ teasing ⋮ praiseing ⋮ light choking (if you squint) ⋮ soft aftercare ⋮ angst ⋮ reconciliation ⋮ aruging ⋮ situationship

WORD COUNT: 18.8k [ yes, I went over board....]

| MAIN MASTER LIST ⋮ PURPLE LACE BRA[P1] |

PAIGE'S POV | THIRD PERSON POV:

THE ECHO OF THE BASKETBALL thudding against the polished wood reverberated through the near-empty gym, a hollow, rhythmic pulse swallowed by the cavernous space.

Overhead fluorescents flickered faintly, their sterile glow casting elongated shadows across the court, the hum of electricity a quiet, nagging presence.

The air smelled faintly of sweat, old rubber, and the lingering trace of cleaning solution, a scent so familiar it should have been grounding.

But Paige felt anything but grounded.

Her body moved on autopilot—elbows tucking in, follow-through clean—but the ball clanked against the rim, bouncing off at an awkward angle, a sound that gnawed at her nerves.

Her rhythm was off. Her mind, untethered.

Her thoughts stretched thin across miles, pulled toward a place where the lights burned hotter, the air buzzed electric, and a voice—low, raspy, a whisper against her skin—now belonged to a stage, to an audience, to a world that wasn’t hers anymore.

"Paige."

KK’s voice cut through the haze, sharp but laced with the ease of someone who had known her long enough to recognize when she was spiraling. "You look like shit."

Azzi, cross-legged on the floor, barely glanced up from her phone, the glow of the screen illuminating her face, brows drawn in a mix of amusement and mild concern.

"Like, actually. I was gonna let it slide last week, but we’re two weeks deep now, and you look like a sleep paralysis demon."

Paige exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes, though even that felt exhausting.

The ball slipped from her hands, bouncing lazily toward the sideline, its rhythmic patter swallowed by the quiet. "Thanks for the support. Really feeling the love tonight."

KK raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. "Nah, for real. You good? ‘Cause ever since you got back from–– whatever the hell that trip was, you’ve been off."

Paige dragged a hand down her face, the heel of her palm pressing into her eye socket like she could physically rub away the exhaustion clawing at her. "I’m fine, just tired as fuck."

Azzi snorted, finally looking up. "Tired, my ass. You barely miss free throws, and you’ve bricked, like, five in the last ten minutes."

Paige clenched her jaw, the tension so tight it ached.

She didn’t want to talk about it.

Didn’t want to say that every shot that missed felt like another way she was unraveling. That her head wasn’t in the game because it was still trapped in a dressing room somewhere across the state, waiting for something—someone—that never came back.

KK studied her, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Or maybe this has something to do with Y/N?"

The name hit harder than she expected, like a punch to the ribs, sharp and unexpected. Paige stiffened, her breath hitching for just a fraction of a second—too fast, too subtle for most people to catch.

But KK and Azzi weren’t most people.

Azzi sighed, locking her phone and resting her chin against her knee. "Listen, we don’t need the details. But if you wanna talk—"

"There’s nothing to talk about," Paige cut in, too quick, too clipped. Her hands found her hair, fingers gripping at the roots, grounding herself in the pressure. "We fucked, fought. She left. End of story."

KK let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "Damn, man. Y’all really did a number on each other, huh?"

A bitter laugh scratched its way out of Paige’s throat, short and humorless. "She’s fine. She’s out there, killing it, selling out arenas, living the dream. She’s—" Paige swallowed, forcing the words out like they didn’t taste like ash. "She’s good."

Azzi watched her, her voice quieter now. "And you?"

Paige dragged in a breath, held it, then let it out slow. "I’m playing basketball."

KK clicked her tongue. "That ain’t an answer."

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, pressing against Paige’s ribs like a weight she couldn’t shake. Her fingers twitched at her sides, aching with the urge to check her phone.

To see if maybe—maybe—Y/N had left something for her. A text. A call. A sign that she hadn’t imagined it all, that she hadn’t been just another fleeting moment in a life too big, too loud, too unstoppable for someone like her to hold onto.

But she knew better.

She had waited in that dressing room too long, let the seconds drag into minutes, let hope stretch thin and fragile in her chest until it finally snapped.

She had checked her phone too many times since then, only to be met with silence.

She had never known silence could be so deafening.

"It doesn’t matter," she muttered finally, voice tight. "We’re done. Plus–– it ain’t nothin’ serious anyways."

KK and Azzi exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between them. They didn’t push, didn’t pry. Instead, KK jerked her chin toward the ball rolling idly near the sideline.

"Well, at least get your head out of your ass before practice tomorrow. Geno’s gonna eat you alive if you play like this."

Paige forced a smirk, but it barely touched her eyes. "Wouldn’t want that."

Azzi stood, stretching. "Let’s head back. Maybe you’ll get some actual sleep tonight."

Paige nodded, trailing behind them as they made their way out of the gym. The moment the doors shut behind her, she yanked her phone from her pocket, her chest tightening at the sight of the notification blinking up at her.

@lexington_y/n

New city. New show. New pictures.

Paige stared, thumb hovering over the post, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The images would be the same as always—Y/N bathed in golden stage lights, a crowd screaming her name, a world that Paige had never been a part of.

She locked her phone before she could look.

Before she could wonder if Y/N ever hesitated the way she did. If she ever hovered over Paige’s name, fingers itching to type something but never following through.

The world thought Y/N had left her behind, untouched and unaffected.

Only Paige knew the truth.

She was wrecked.

… and she knew she needed to do something about it.

Y/N’S POV:

The hum of the jet was constant, a soft vibration that lived in my bones, steady and unwavering—so unlike the storm inside my head.

It was the only sound in the dimly lit cabin, save for the occasional clink of my wine glass against the polished wood of the table in front of me.

The turbulence outside was minimal, but inside me? A different kind of turbulence brewed, thick and relentless, curling around my ribs and refusing to let go.

I leaned back against the cool leather seat, exhaling slowly, willing the tightness in my chest to loosen.

The rim of my glass pressed against my lips, the deep, velvety notes of the wine resting on my tongue, but I barely tasted it. It was expensive—I knew that much.

A ridiculous, aged bottle that probably had some sommelier waxing poetic about its oaky finish and hints of blackberry, but to me, it might as well have been water.

My gaze drifted to the window, where the night stretched endlessly, a vast ocean of black speckled with distant city lights and constellations too far away to touch.

Dallas had been electric, the kind of high only a sold-out stadium could bring, the energy of it still clinging to my skin like static.

My body still hummed with the aftermath of adrenaline, but the crash had begun. And with it, the thoughts returned.

Her.

Paige.

My jaw clenched.

God, why?

Why did she still live in my mind like this, creeping into the quiet spaces, filling them with echoes of things I swore I had left behind?

I was the one who finally walked away. The one who ended it. The one who told her we couldn’t keep pretending that this thing between us was something it wasn’t.

So why did it still feel like she was holding all the strings?

I closed my eyes for a moment, pressing my temple against the glass, the cold a stark contrast to the warmth burning beneath my skin.

The tour was exhausting, an endless loop of flashing lights, deafening screams, and hotel rooms that all started to look the same after a while.

I had convinced myself that it would be enough—enough to drown out the lingering ghosts, enough to forget the way her name still tasted like something sweet and forbidden on my tongue.

But it hadn’t been.

And now I was here, in the sky, suspended between destinations, trying to outrun a feeling that had already caught up to me.

At least I didn’t have to worry.

Paige wouldn’t be in Connecticut.

The team was in Ohio tonight—some game, some tournament, some obligation that kept her far enough away that I could breathe.

Far enough that I could let my guard down, even just for a day or two, without the risk of seeing those sharp blue eyes and that maddening smirk that always made me forget what I was supposed to be running from.

I sighed, setting my wine glass down, watching the way the liquid swayed inside it—deep red, rich, curling against the sides of the glass like ink bleeding through water.

I stared at it, the way the light hit it, the way it moved, fluid and restless, a mirror of the thing inside me that refused to settle.

And then my phone buzzed.

A single vibration against the wood, barely a whisper of sound, but it may as well have been a gunshot in the silence of the cabin.

I flinched.

My eyes dropped to the screen, my fingers hesitating for just a fraction of a second before I reached for it, flipping it over.

And just like that, all the air left my lungs.

@paigebueckers liked your post.

The words were simple, harmless even. Just a meaningless notification. A tap of a finger. A fleeting acknowledgment.

But to me, it was a match dropped in gasoline.

A sharp inhale lodged itself in my throat, something heavy pressing against my ribs, spreading through me like wildfire.

It was nothing. It was everything.

It was a ghost of something unfinished. A whisper of a connection that refused to sever completely.

My fingers tightened around the phone, the pad of my thumb hovering over the screen, as if clicking on it would give me something—an answer, a sign, a reason.

But I already knew better.

I set the phone down, flipping it facedown like that would make it disappear, like it could erase the sudden, all-consuming awareness that I was still tethered to her, still caught in the gravitational pull of something I had spent months trying to escape.

The jet hummed around me, steady, relentless, indifferent.

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe past it.

But all I could see was her.

Laughing. Touching me. Kissing me.

And then—slowly, painfully—turning away.

Her fingers, once tangled with mine, slipping free like grains of sand through my grasp, leaving nothing but an aching absence in their wake.

Her shoulders, tense at first, then relaxing, as if she had made peace with something I hadn't. The subtle hitch in her breath, the fleeting hesitation in her step, before she forced herself to move.

And then she did.

Walking away with the kind of quiet finality that didn’t need words, her silhouette shrinking with every step, swallowed by distance, by time, by everything I wasn’t ready to let go of.

Not once looking back.

I drifted off without realizing, the hum of the jet and the gentle sway of the clouds lulling me into a soft, unspoken surrender.

The seat, which had once felt stiff beneath me, had now molded to the curve of my body, and the wine glass I had held in my hand had long since gone forgotten.

Time slipped through my fingers like water, and before I could even blink, three hours had passed in what felt like mere moments.

The jet, with its pristine leather seats and velvet curtains, became a cocoon, a world that moved at its own pace, indifferent to the world below.

The city lights of Dallas had long faded from view, and in the haze of sleep, the only thing that anchored me was the weight of my thoughts—the ones that were always there, always waiting in the corners of my mind. Paige. That damn blonde.

The one who had never truly left me, no matter how much I tried to move on.

And then, just as I was lost in the flicker of half-conscious dreams, a soft voice broke through the fog of my mind.

“Miss Y/N?”

I blinked my eyes open, the sudden rush of reality hitting me like a cool wave. Maddy, the flight attendant, stood beside me, her gentle hand on my shoulder, her face lit by the soft glow of the cabin’s lights.

She had a warmth about her, a kindness I had grown accustomed to during our flights.

She was always so poised, so effortlessly graceful, but tonight, her expression was a little softer, like she knew I needed a nudge back into the world.

“Sorry to wake you, but we’re almost there. You might want to gather your things.”

I nodded, my body sluggish as I sat up, the remnants of sleep still clinging to my eyelids.

I glanced out the window, and for the first time in hours, I saw the skyline of Connecticut rising like a beacon. It was surreal, the way it hit me in a wave. Time had passed, and the night was creeping forward, inching into the early hours, a place I wasn’t sure I was ready to be.

The jet had barely touched down before my mind was already rushing ahead. I stood up, gathering my carry-on with clumsy fingers, the exhaustion weighing heavy in my chest.

The quiet hum of the engines seemed louder now, the finality of it all settling in my bones. Connecticut. An hour ahead of Texas, and now, here I was. 1 AM. The darkness outside the plane felt colder somehow, more real, like it was waiting for me to re-enter it.

The doors to the jet opened, and the cool Connecticut air greeted me like a breath of relief. Maddy followed me down the stairs, offering a final, quiet smile as I made my way to the ground.

The pilot waved from the front, his face still unreadable in the dim light, but there was a comfort in the routine of it. These people, these small moments—strangers who had become familiar—had woven themselves into the fabric of my life, even for just a brief stretch of time.

“Thanks again, Maddy,” I said, my voice a little hoarse, but sincere. “I’ll see you next time.”

“Of course,” she replied, her tone warm and steady. “Safe travels, Y/N.”

I turned to the pilot, offering a quick nod, my muscles still sluggish as I adjusted my bag over my shoulder. The cool night air wrapped around me, and I made my way toward the awaiting car, the sounds of the airport already starting to fade into the background.

As I reached the car, my phone buzzed in my pocket, the vibration cutting through the stillness of the night. I glanced down, my heart giving a small jolt when I saw the name.

My mom. Of course.

I answered the call with a soft sigh, trying to steady my breath. “Hey, Mom.”

“Y/N? You made it?”

“Yeah, actually,” I replied, stepping into the car and sliding the door shut behind me. “Just landed.”

“Good. You sound tired, honey. Long flight?”

I let out a small laugh, a touch of irony in my voice. “You could say that. But, yeah, I’m exhausted. Gonna head back to the apartment and crash for a bit. Connecticut’s always a bit of a wake-up call after Texas, you know?”

She chuckled, the sound familiar and comforting. “I bet. Well, take it easy. When you’re up, come on by. I’ll make us something to eat. You know how it is.”

“Mhmm,” I said, leaning back into the seat, letting the warmth of my car wrap around me. “I’ll drive down in the morning. Thought I’d spend a couple of days. Bother you guys.”

The words felt good, slipping out like a secret I hadn’t realized I needed to share. My laughter came easily then, a lightness I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in too long.

It was something I hadn’t done in what felt like forever—let myself enjoy the simplicity of being home, of being surrounded by the people who knew me best.

“Alright, honey. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I ended the call, the quiet hum of the car filling the space between us, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I let myself exhale.

Tomorrow would come. It would be messy, it would be complicated, but for now, I had this—a moment of peace, a fleeting one, but it was enough. The city skyline of Hartford glowed in the distance, like a soft pulse in the dark, beckoning me home.

The wheel in my hands felt familiar, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed. I could already feel the fatigue setting in, my mind heavy with the weight of the past few days, but I pushed it down, keeping my focus on the road.

The late-night quiet was almost too perfect, the night cradling me in its gentle arms.

The tires hummed steadily beneath me as I veered onto the highway, and I let myself drift for a moment. The city lights twinkled like distant stars, each one a promise, a memory of the home I’d come back to.

There was something about the cities of Connecticut at night—its streets always quieter, its corners always darker, yet the heart of it still pulsing with life. A small comfort, one I didn’t know I needed until now.

I could almost taste it, the familiarity. The places, the streets, the air—I knew them all, and for some reason, that felt like enough for tonight.

Then, without warning, Frank Ocean poured from the speakers, smooth and haunting, the first notes of Moon River filling the car and curling around my thoughts like smoke.

The deep, rich timbre of his voice carried me, a lullaby for the restless. I sighed, one hand still steady on the wheel, the other resting against the window, my fingers tracing the cool glass.

The wind outside caught against the car, brushing through my hair, a soft reminder of the night, of everything I was trying to escape from.

But then it happened.. again.

the ghost of her.

Her presence slipped in beside me like it always did. A whisper of blonde hair floating in the air beside me, the breeze curling around us, carrying her scent with it.

I could almost feel her hand on my thigh, warm and familiar, the subtle pressure of her touch making my heart skip in a way I hated, a way I had come to both love and resent.

The memory of her fingers grazing my skin lingered like the faintest shadow, and for a moment, I allowed myself to sink into the feeling.

But then reality slammed into me. I remembered us—or more accurately, what we weren’t. We weren’t the kind of people who could just exist in a space together, letting the quiet stretch between us, letting the little moments settle in.

No, we were desperate.

We always had been. Our time together was a series of fleeting touches, stolen moments, like we were always on the edge of something—something that neither of us dared to cross.

We weren’t in the car to enjoy each other’s presence, to laugh or linger in the warmth of shared smiles. No, we were there to burn, to need—to satiate a hunger that never seemed to quiet.

The thought of it made my chest tighten.

I couldn’t do this anymore. Not the way she wanted, anyway. I had spent so long pretending that the flashes of passion, the late-night rendezvous, were enough. They weren’t.

And as much as I missed her, as much as I could feel her presence like a phantom beside me, I couldn’t keep lying to myself. I was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally.

A year of this, of whatever this was, had drained me more than I realized. And it wasn’t even just the frustration of endless hookups, of empty promises wrapped in lust. It was the ache of wanting more, of needing something that wasn’t just skin-deep.

I wanted her—not just in the way she would slip into my bed, leaving with the scent of her still clinging to me. I wanted more than just the raw, desperate need that only came in the dark corners of the night.

I wanted the little moments—the ones that didn’t require a bed or an empty apartment. I wanted her to stay past the hour she always slipped out of, her departure as fleeting as she was.

I wanted to care about her in a way that went beyond wanting her. I wanted to share more than just the surface. I wanted her here. With me.

For more than a night. I wanted to wake up beside her, talk to her in the morning, laugh with her like the world wasn’t collapsing at the seams.

And yet, here I was, still stuck in this dance, still lying to myself, pretending that the desperate moments we shared were all I needed.

How did I let myself slip so far into this? Into her? Into the lie that I could pretend this was all I ever wanted?

Why did I bother answering her DM? Why did I keep coming back, every single time? Was it the thrill of the chase? The danger?

The way she made me feel like I was alive, like I was seen, but only in the ways that made me feel empty in the end? I had promised myself I wouldn’t get attached.

I had promised that it would be nothing more than a passing thing, something that didn’t ask anything of me.

But somewhere, deep down, I knew that promise had broken the second I let her back into my life. And now, I was the one paying for it.

I glanced at the rearview mirror, my face reflected back at me—tired, confused, a little worn, but still here. Still alive.

The city was growing closer now, and I could feel the weight of the moment pressing against my chest.

The road stretched out before me, endless and unwavering, but I was no longer sure where I was headed. Hartford? Yes. But even that felt like just another place to run away from the thing I didn’t want to face.

I gripped the wheel tighter, the song in my ears fading into the background as I let the rhythm of the road take me.

The soft hum of the tires against the asphalt was all I could hear now, my thoughts swirling like storm clouds above a calm sea. One step at a time, I told myself. One step. But the road ahead felt long—too long.

The city lights on the horizon flickered, a constellation of possibilities that seemed so far away. And yet, they were right there. Within reach, if only I could hold on long enough.

The exit to Hartford appeared in front of me, the sign flickering in the glow of the streetlights. My heart beat a little faster as I veered off the highway, the familiar roads beneath me pulling me closer to home.

The city wrapped itself around me like a well-worn sweater, the streets I had walked so many times now feeling like an old friend that I hadn’t seen in too long.

The familiar hum of the city at night filled my ears, but it didn’t feel comforting—it just felt… there. As though the world was moving on around me, and I was stuck in place.

I drove through the streets of Hartford, past the coffee shops and streetlights, past the bars and restaurants that were closing for the night.

The city was quiet now, save for the occasional car or the distant sound of laughter from a group of friends lingering on the sidewalk.

It was the calm after the storm, and for a moment, it felt like I was the only one awake, the only one still carrying the weight of the day.

When I finally pulled into my condo building’s parking lot, the security guard waved at me, opening the gate with a press of a button, like it had done a hundred times before. The metallic squeal of the gate echoed in the silence, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was slipping back into the routine of it all.

The night was supposed to feel different, but it didn’t. The familiar sights—the guard waving, the low hum of the parking lot lights—felt like a song I had heard too many times. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to turn it off.

I parked my Bronco in its usual spot, taking a slow breath before I opened the door. The air was crisp, cool against my skin as I grabbed my carry-on bags, the familiar weight of my luggage heavy in my hands. It felt like a thousand tiny reminders of where I was—who I was, and what I was running from.

I made my way to the elevator, the soft click of my boots against the concrete echoing in the underground parking garage.

My hand brushed against the elevator button, pressing the number five without thinking. The elevator doors slid open, the faint hum of the machinery filling the small, quiet space as I rose upward, toward the floor where everything I had been avoiding waited for me.

The door opened to my floor with a soft ding, and I stepped out, the familiar hallway stretching before me. The soft carpet beneath my feet was a small comfort, but it didn’t stop the weight of everything that had been building up inside me.

My hand shook slightly as I fumbled for my keypad, my fingers lingering for a moment on the numbers. When the door finally clicked open, I stepped into the condo.

Home.

I hadn’t realized how much I had missed the smell of it—the light fragrance of fresh flowers and the faint undertones of something sweeter, something comforting.

It enveloped me like a hug, familiar and safe. I shut the door behind me, the soft thunk of it closing resounding in the quiet apartment.

I flicked on the kitchen light, the soft glow of the bulb spilling across the counter, casting long shadows in the dimness. The city below seemed far away now, the lights twinkling like stars scattered across the black sky.

The world seemed small from up here—almost too small. And yet, I felt lost in it.

I stood there for a moment, leaning against the counter, my eyes tracing the outline of the city below. The noise of the world was muted here, in this space that I had made for myself.

But even now, in the silence, the questions lingered. The uncertainty. The ache. The longing for something more.

I set down my luggage and carry-ons beside counter, my movements slow and deliberate. There was no rush now. No one waiting for me, no one to answer to.

The weight of the day—the weight of everything—pressed down on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to unpack just yet. I needed a moment. A breath. A chance to feel like I wasn’t drowning in it all.

I took another step, walking to the large windows that framed the city below. The lights sparkled, distant and cold, like a world I was no longer sure I belonged to.

I stood there for a while, my hands pressed against the cool glass, watching as the night stretched on. It wasn’t enough to make me feel whole again, but it was something. It was a moment of calm. Of clarity.

I sighed deeply, my breath heavy with the weight of everything that had built up inside me during the day, during the months, during the years.

The familiar hum of the apartment was a dull comfort, but it felt foreign, like a memory I was trying to hold onto but couldn’t quite grasp.

My hand lingered against the frame of the window for a second longer than necessary, the cool metal grounding me in the present before I moved on.

My feet made the softest sound against the hardwood floor as I walked through the apartment, checking the locks on the front door with automatic precision, as if these rituals could shield me from the restlessness swirling beneath my skin.

The lights flickered off one by one, leaving the apartment in shadows that wrapped around me like a second skin. My purse hung loosely from my arm, the weight of it so small, yet it felt like an anchor, like everything I carried in it—the past few weeks, the exhaustion, the unfinished conversations—was pressing on my chest.

I moved toward the stairs, my body aching, each step a reminder of the stiffness from the long flight, the hours spent cramped in a chair, the echoes of the concert still hanging in my bones like some distant memory that refused to fade.

The smell of airplane air, sterile and empty, clung to my clothes, mixing with the faint remnants of the concert—the noise, the people, the rush of adrenaline. It was all too much, too close, too loud. I needed space. I needed silence.

By the time I reached my bedroom, I was already starting to feel the weight of the day melt off of me—just a little, just enough for the edges to blur.

My room was just as I had left it: neat, untouched, almost too still. It had been two weeks since I had last stepped through the door, and in that time, everything had moved on, yet nothing had changed here.

The same soft light from the bedside lamp. The same bed, untouched by anything but the fabric of time. The silence was thick with a thousand unsaid things, and for a moment, I just stood in the doorway, letting it all settle around me.

I dropped my bag onto the bed, the soft thud echoing in the quiet room, before letting out a long, exhausted sound, my shoulders sagging with the release of everything I had been holding in for far too long.

It was like stepping into an old, worn-out pair of shoes—comfortable, yes, but so very, very tired.

My clothes felt too tight, too heavy against my skin. The material clung to me as if reluctant to let go, still holding on to the remnants of the day.

The air inside my clothes was suffocating, the lingering scent of airplane disinfectant mixed with sweat and the faint traces of the concert—a place where I had poured every ounce of my energy, but now it felt so far removed from the person I was here, in the stillness of my bedroom.

I needed to shed it all, to strip away the layers of exhaustion and confusion that clung to me like the weight of my thoughts.

With a soft, almost absent gesture, I pulled my clothes off, one piece at a time, until I was standing in the center of the room, my body bare and exposed.

I felt a fleeting sense of vulnerability, but it was different now—like the vulnerability had been there all along, just waiting for me to acknowledge it.

I wasn't sure whether it was the weight of the day, the weight of the weeks of silence between Paige and me, or just the constant ache of being too much and never enough, but I couldn’t stand being in my own skin any longer.

I walked into the bathroom, the cool air of the room brushing against my bare skin as I turned the handle of the shower. The sound of the water starting to run was a relief, like the first breath after holding it in for too long.

I stood there for a moment, just watching as the steam began to rise, filling the small space with the promise of warmth.

I didn’t know why, but the sound of the water rushing over my skin always made me feel like I could wash away everything that had been holding me back.

I reached for the shower gel, the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air, soothing the sharpness of my thoughts.

The rhythm of my routine was mechanical, each motion automatic, as though the very act of cleansing myself would somehow make everything else disappear. I lathered the soap between my hands, letting the bubbles form before running them over my shoulders, down my arms, across my chest.

The sensation of the warm water and the smooth gel was comforting, but it didn’t erase the tension from my body. The tightness in my chest. The exhaustion in my bones.

As the last streams of water cascaded down my body, I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the day swirl down the drain with the steam.

My skin was flushed from the heat, my muscles finally unwinding in a way they hadn’t in weeks. With a tired sigh, I reached for the dial and twisted it off, the sudden absence of water leaving behind a silence that felt deafening.

I stepped out onto the soft bath mat, droplets clinging to my skin, catching in the dim glow of the bathroom light. The mirror was fogged over, a blurred reflection of myself barely visible through the condensation.

I dragged a hand across it, but the moment my fingers left, the fog returned—like it didn’t want me to see myself too clearly. Maybe that was for the best.

Reaching for the plush white towel hanging on the rack, I wrapped it around my body, securing it just above my chest before moving to my sink.

My fingers worked methodically, reaching for the cleanser on the marble countertop, twisting the cap open with a soft click.

The cool gel foamed between my palms as I massaged it into my skin, small circles over my cheeks, my forehead, my jawline—washing away the remnants of the day, the exhaustion, the tension buried in my bones.

Patting my face dry with the towel, I reached for my toner, pressing it into my skin with slow, deliberate motions, letting the calming scent of rose water settle my nerves.

Next was my serum—three drops onto my fingertips, warming them between my hands before pressing them gently into my face, feeling the way my skin drank it in. Finally, moisturizer—rich and thick, sealing everything in.

A touch of lip balm. A swipe of eye cream. Routine. Predictable. Safe. The only thing I could control in a world that constantly felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

I let my towel drop to the floor, reaching into my dresser for the first set of lingerie I could find.

My fingers brushed against lace, soft and delicate, a contrast to the quiet storm inside me. Black. Lacy. The kind of set that made me feel something—powerful, maybe, or just put together in a way I hadn’t felt in a while.

The thong sat high on my hips, the delicate straps hugging my skin, while the matching lace bra fit perfectly against my chest, a teasing hint of sheer fabric that was for no one’s eyes but my own.

I ran a fresh towel through my damp hair, squeezing out the excess water as I padded barefoot to my bedroom. The air was cool against my skin, sending a small shiver down my spine.

I reached for my body lotion—warm vanilla and sandalwood, something soft yet deep, something that smelled like home.

My hands moved slowly, spreading the lotion over my arms, my legs, across my stomach, taking my time, savoring the moment, grounding myself in it.

With a sigh, I made my way to my bed, pulling back the plush duvet, already craving the warmth of the sheets. But just as I was about to slip in, the sharp ding of my doorbell sliced through the silence.

I froze.

Every muscle in my body tensed, the sound sending a jolt of adrenaline through my veins. My heart lurched against my ribs, a sudden, erratic rhythm that had nothing to do with exhaustion and everything to do with fear.

My breath caught in my throat as I reached for my phone, fingers hovering over the keypad, ready to dial 911. But something inside me hesitated. Who the fuck would show up at my condo at 2:25 a.m.?

My eyes darted to the clock on my bedside table, the glowing numbers confirming what I already knew—this was not the time for casual visits.

I had watched way too much Criminal Minds to take this lightly.

My mind raced with worst-case scenarios as I silently reached for my nightstand drawer, pulling out my taser with steady hands. The weight of it was reassuring, even if my pulse was anything but.

The doorbell rang again.

I flinched. A sharp inhale. My grip tightened around the taser as I moved quietly, my bare feet soundless against the floor.

The condo was dark, save for the silver slivers of moonlight streaming in through the windows. Shadows stretched across the walls, making everything feel larger, deeper, more uncertain.

Another ring.

Fuck.

I sucked in a breath, slipping into the kitchen. My fingers wrapped around the cool steel of a knife before I even had time to think about it.

I really need to invest in a Ring cam, I thought bitterly, my grip tightening around the handle as I moved toward the door.

I didn’t plan on entertaining whoever was on the other side. In fact, I wasn’t even sure why I was creeping toward the peephole instead of calling the cops.

But curiosity—or maybe sheer stupidity—had me stepping forward, pressing onto the tips of my toes, peering through the tiny glass lens.

And the moment I saw her, a breath of relief escaped me, mixed with frustration so thick it almost choked me.

I let out a groan, my head dropping against the wood for half a second before unlocking the door.

I swung it open, eyes narrowing as I glared at the woman standing before me.

“Why the fuck—”

Paige stood in the dim glow of the hallway lights, wrapped in an oversized hoodie and regret. A mess of contradictions.

Her eyes flickered—hesitation, exhaustion, something unreadable—but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. I swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat, gripping the doorframe just to keep steady.

"Is this how you open your door now?" Her voice was sharp, but beneath it, something else—softer, unspoken, maybe even shaken.

Her gaze raked over me, dragging from my damp hair to the black lace barely covering me, lingering a second too long before landing on the knife in my hand.

Her lips parted slightly, the muscle in her jaw clenching like she wanted to say something, but I was already scoffing, already done with this before it could even start.

I moved to shut the door in her face, the finality of it sweet on my tongue—but then her hand shot out, fingers curling around the edge, voice suddenly quieter.

"Wait."

I stilled. My teeth ground together as I stared at her, waiting, because that was all I had ever done when it came to Paige—waited for her to come around, waited for her to give a damn, waited for her to realize that I was always right here.

This time, she hesitated. Swallowed. Her fingers tightened on the frame, eyes darting over my face like she was searching for something—something I refused to give her.

"Can I—" Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. She exhaled sharply, blinking hard. "Can I come in?"

I scoffed, shifting my weight, exhaustion settling into my bones like a slow ache. "Why are you even here?" I demanded, arms crossing, fingers tapping against my bicep. "Actually, how the fuck did you even know I was here?"

Her gaze faltered. Guilt flashed across her face, quick but unmistakable.

"I—" She exhaled, dropping her shoulders. "I asked Renee."

Of course, she did.

I shook my head, laughing humorlessly. Disbelief curled in my stomach, bitter and sharp. It was two in the morning.

I was standing in my damn hallway, barely dressed, exhausted beyond belief, and the girl I had spent the past weeks trying to forget was just standing there like she had every right to be.

I should have slammed the door. Should have told her to go to hell, to find someone else to ruin, to stop haunting me like she didn’t even know she was doing it.

But instead, I exhaled through my nose and widened the door.

Because I was stupid.

Because I was weak.

Because despite everything—despite the ache she had left me with, despite knowing exactly how this night would end—I still wanted her.

Paige stepped inside, slow, careful, but I didn’t miss the way her gaze dragged over my figure, the way her throat bobbed when she caught the scent of my body wash wrapping around her like a taunt.

Her eyes fluttered closed for half a second, inhaling.

I hated that it made my stomach tighten.

Clenching my jaw, I turned and locked the door behind us. The condo was mostly dark, save for the silver glow of the city bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Shadows stretched long across the hardwood, over the countertop, over Paige’s silhouette as she stood there, hands stuffed into the pocket of her hoodie like she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself.

And for the first time since I opened the door, I became fully aware of how little I was wearing.

It was nothing new—Paige had seen me in far less. Had touched, kissed, devoured. Had mapped out every inch of me like she was the only one who had the right to.

And yet, standing here now, her eyes flickering between me and the floor, something about it made my skin prickle.

I turned away sharply, scanning the counter for something—anything—to throw on. Placing the knife I had in my palms onto the counter top as I searched.

My lips pressed into a thin line as I grabbed the oversized hoodie draped over the stool, tugging it over my head before facing her again.

Silence.

Thick. Suffocating.

Paige shifted on her feet, glanced at me once before looking away, exhaling like she had something to say but didn’t know where to start.

I broke the silence first.

"Paige," I said, arms crossing over my chest, voice flat. "Why are you here?"

She hesitated. A muscle in her jaw twitched, her lips parting like she was going to say something, then thinking better of it.

"I wanted to talk."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Seriously? This couldn’t wait until morning?"

Her mouth pressed into a tight line. "Look, I’m sorry for how—"

"There’s nothing to talk about," I cut her off, voice sharp, cold. "You were right, though. I mean, it’s what we agreed to in the beginning, right? No strings attached?" My laugh was bitter, hollow. "It’s my bad for getting too deep."

She exhaled, frustration laced in the breath she let out. "Listen, please."

I shook my head, glaring at her. "Why would I, hm? When all I ever asked was for you to do the same? When all you’ve given me is shit."

Paige winced. Just slightly. But it was enough. Enough to tell me she knew I was right. Enough to tell me that maybe—just maybe—she was feeling it too. Whatever this was.

Her hands twitched at her sides, her tongue running over her bottom lip like she was trying to taste the words before she spoke them.

"I—I don’t know what I’m doing here," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loud would make it real.

"One second, I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and the next I was…" She sighed, shaking her head. "Standing at your door."

I swallowed down the lump rising in my throat, shoving my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie. "And?"

Her brows furrowed. "And what?"

"And what do you want, Paige?" My voice was quieter now, something softer lurking beneath the edges. Dangerous.

She blinked, looking at me like she didn’t have an answer. Like she hadn’t thought that far ahead. And maybe she hadn’t.

Maybe she really had just ended up here on autopilot, driven by some force neither of us could name.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Her mouth opened, then closed. Her shoulders rose and fell. My heart hammered in my chest, and for the first time since opening the door, I wished I hadn’t.

"Y/N…" She breathed my name like it hurt, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say it anymore.

I shook my head, stepping back. "No," I said, voice trembling slightly. "You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to show up at my door in the middle of the night and expect me to just—"

"I don’t expect anything," she interrupted, stepping forward, closing the space I’d just put between us. "I just… I don’t know."

I let out a humorless laugh. "That’s your problem, Paige. You never know."

Her breath hitched, and for a split second, I saw something crack behind her eyes. Vulnerability. Uncertainty. Maybe even regret. But I couldn’t let it be my problem anymore.

I turned away, exhaling sharply. "You should go."

Paige hesitated, and I could feel her looking at me, feel the battle waging in her chest. But she didn’t move. Not for a long moment.

And when she finally did, it wasn’t toward the door.

Paige stood there for a heartbeat—just one, but it felt like a thousand years of silence wrapped in a veil of unspoken things.

Her shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world, the weight of the tension between us, and every single word that hung in the air but never found its way out.

I could feel her eyes on me, tracing the lines of my body like they were searching for something lost.

She wasn��t looking at me—no, she was looking past me, through me, to the place we used to occupy in each other’s lives. It was suffocating.

The air thick with memories we’d tried to bury, yet they kept creeping up on us in the quietest moments, like shadows in the corner of a room we couldn’t escape.

She exhaled a shaky breath, as if her lungs had forgotten what it felt like to breathe freely in my presence. I watched her throat work, the muscles in her neck tightening as she swallowed whatever it was she wanted to say but couldn’t.

And then, with a small, hesitant movement, she stepped forward, closing the gap between us, one inch at a time.

I felt the shift in the air as her presence filled the space around me, the familiar scent of her perfume—something musky, something floral, like fresh rain on dry earth—lingering in the room.

My heart skipped, once, twice, before sinking, pulling itself back into my chest like a piece of me was being pulled away.

I wasn’t sure if I hated it or wanted to drown in it.

Paige’s hand reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered in the space between us, a silent invitation, or maybe a plea, for something I wasn’t sure I could give her anymore.

Her palm wasn’t open, but it wasn’t closed, either—just hovering, a tentative truce waiting to happen, a touch waiting for permission.

My breath hitched in my chest. “Don’t,” I whispered, not trusting my voice, not trusting myself to say the words any louder, any more forcefully. It was a plea and a command all wrapped up in one broken syllable.

But she didn’t stop. Of course, she didn’t.

Her hand gently brushed against my arm, just barely a whisper of skin on skin, but it was enough to send an electric current through my veins, through every nerve I had buried so deep inside me for so long.

Her touch was a memory—one I had spent months trying to forget—and now it was flooding back, too familiar, too raw, too everything I didn’t want to feel.

I jerked back, but my feet were rooted to the floor, frozen by some invisible force.

Paige’s face softened, the sharp edges of her expression dissolving into something vulnerable, something real.

She was searching me, every inch of me, as if she was trying to read the broken lines on my face, the shattered pieces of who I used to be when she was everything to me.

Her voice broke the silence, a whisper that felt like glass, fragile and cutting. “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but it felt different this time. It felt like the first time she meant it. “I know I’ve hurt you, Y/N. I—I never meant to, but I did. And I—”

She faltered, and for a moment, she seemed so small, so uncertain, like a shadow of the girl I had once known so well. I opened my mouth to speak, to say anything—don’t apologize, it’s too late—but the words tangled in my throat, too heavy to lift.

I couldn’t do it. Not with her standing here, not with that look in her eyes.

I turned away, needing space, needing distance, needing something to stop the aching, bleeding mess in my chest from spilling out all over the floor.

I stumbled toward the windows, where the city’s lights flickered below us like distant stars, too far to touch, too far to reach.

The silence stretched between us again, thick and suffocating, but this time, it felt like an ocean, pulling me under.

I could feel her watching me, feel the weight of her stare on my back like a brand. “Why are you here, Paige?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, jagged and raw, as if I had been holding them in for far too long.

She didn’t answer at first. She just stood there, her fingers twisting in the hem of her hoodie, unsure, waiting for something, for the right moment to speak. But the right moment never came.

Finally, she spoke, and it wasn’t what I expected. “I came because I wanted to be here. Because I thought… maybe I could fix this. I thought maybe if I could just find the right words…”

Her voice wavered, a tremor in the quiet. “But I don’t even know what I’m supposed to fix.”

It was a punch to the gut, the truth of it, the way she admitted she didn’t know, had never known, that the brokenness between us wasn’t just my fault or hers.

It was both of us, tangled together in a mess of misunderstandings and mistakes, and now we were just two people standing in the wreckage, pretending we could still build something from the ruins.

My hands balled into fists at my sides. “You can’t fix this, Paige,” I said, the words spilling out sharp, desperate. “You don’t get to waltz back in like suddenly something matters. You don’t get to—”

But I didn’t finish. I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned back toward her, and there she was, standing in the same spot, eyes wide and glistening, her lips trembling like she was trying to keep it together, trying to hold herself together long enough to get through whatever this was.

I wanted to scream. To yell. To do anything to stop this pain from bleeding out of me like a wound I couldn’t close. But there she was, still here, still in front of me.

I stepped closer, closer than I had intended, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let my gaze soften. “I don’t want this,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, barely even mine anymore. “I don’t want you to hurt me anymore.”

Paige’s breath caught, and the vulnerability in her eyes was enough to break me. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”

But the truth of it, the harsh truth that both of us knew, was that we had already hurt each other too much to ever go back to what we were before. We were too broken, too fractured, too caught in the gravity of our own mistakes.

And as she took a tentative step forward, a single tear slipping from her eye, I knew, deep down, that this was the last time we would ever be standing this close again.

But I couldn’t make her leave. Not yet.

So, we stood there in the silence, the air thick between us, and I hated every single moment of it—yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself from breathing her in once more.

The air felt like it was wrapped in a fine, invisible web, delicate and stretching thin, pulling tighter with every passing second.

We stood there, both of us, a breath apart, yet separated by miles of unspoken words. The tension between us was a quiet storm, one I could feel pressing in on all sides, suffocating, overwhelming, yet somehow familiar.

It was the weight of everything we hadn’t said—the things we’d buried underneath layers of silence, of quick kisses, of moments stolen in the dark.

Her eyes never left mine, but there was something different now. A shift, a crack in the armor that had once felt impenetrable.

Paige’s hand, still hovering in the space between us, slowly fell to her side, like she’d realized the touch she had longed for wasn’t just a reflex anymore.

It had been something she needed to let go of, something that no longer fit in the puzzle of who we were.

But I wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. Not when I could still feel her lingering warmth like a bruise on my skin. Not when I had spent the last few weeks pretending I didn’t care—pretending I hadn’t caught feelings, pretending this wasn’t as real as the beating in my chest that seemed to echo every time she said my name.

“Y/N,” she whispered again, like it was a prayer, like it was a plea, a question she was afraid to ask but couldn’t keep silent anymore.

I looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer. My heart hammered in my chest, a staccato rhythm that matched the panic clawing its way up my throat.

I didn’t know how to respond to the weight of her stare, to the question in her eyes that I hadn’t been able to answer before.

I was supposed to be indifferent, detached, just another name in a long list of names she had danced through. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. I wasn’t supposed to want anything.

But I did. And that was the part that hurt.

I took a step back, trying to find the space between us, trying to reclaim what was mine before she got too close. “You should have never done this,” I muttered, more to myself than to her, as the words spilled out like regret—too fast, too sharp, too real. “I was fine. I was fine before this. Before you—”

She winced, the pain flashing across her face before she could hide it, before she could shut it down with that same defensive wall she always put up, that wall I had come to recognize but had never wanted to face.

It had been easier, safer, when we didn’t feel anything—when we were just two bodies in the dark, nothing more than a brief, heated exchange of desire that was never supposed to linger past the morning.

But now, here we were, caught in the aftermath of something that neither of us had planned for.

Paige took a breath, steadying herself, and I could see the fight in her, the fight I knew so well, the one where she refused to let anyone see her break.

“I know,” she said, her voice tight, rough with emotion she was trying to swallow. “I know I shouldn’t have pushed you away, Y/N. I never should have done that to you. But it was easier to leave before I—”

She stopped, closing her eyes as if the words had cut too deep, too quickly. I could hear the pain in her voice, the rawness that she tried to hide behind her bravado, but it wasn’t enough to cover the cracks. Not anymore.

I couldn’t help it. My chest tightened, the urge to close the distance between us pulling me forward even though every rational part of me screamed to keep my distance.

“Easier to leave?” I asked, my voice cold, trying to put the distance between us again, trying to keep my emotions wrapped up tight in a box where they belonged.

“Easier than facing me? Easier than facing what we were?”

She shook her head, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she took another step closer, a slow, hesitant movement, as if she was waiting for me to reject her again.

“It was easier to walk away before I realized I—before I realized how much I was hurting you.”

My breath caught in my throat. I could see it then—the vulnerability in her eyes, the one she never let anyone see.

“You didn’t think you were hurting me?” I asked, the question dripping with disbelief, the irony of it stinging my tongue. “You didn’t think I’d be hurt when you used me like that?”

The truth was, we were both using each other in ways that pained us both.

She winced again, like my words had pierced something deep inside her. “I didn’t mean to use you. I thought I could handle it. I thought we could just... keep things casual. No strings attached, no feelings.”

Her voice faltered on the last words, and I saw the truth in her eyes. “But then... you kept looking at me like that. Like I was more than just a body. And I—”

Her hands trembled as she reached out again, this time not hovering but fully extending toward me, a plea that wasn’t just physical, wasn’t just the echo of the lust that had driven us together in the first place. It was more than that.

I wanted to pull away. I wanted to step back, keep myself safe, keep my heart locked away from her. But I couldn’t.

Her fingertips brushed against my arm again, this time lingering, as if they were silently asking for something I wasn’t ready to give. But my walls were crumbling, piece by piece, and I could feel it.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” I admitted, my voice low, breaking in the middle of the sentence like it was a confession, like it was a sin I couldn’t wash away.

“I don’t know if I can go back to what we were. But I can’t just—forget, Paige. I can’t just walk away from this.”

She pulled back then, sharply, like I had burned her, like my words had stung too much. But I saw the vulnerability in her eyes.

The realization that she had messed up, that this was a mess of her own making. And for the first time in this broken dance, I saw her desperate to fix it.

“I wasn’t supposed to care, either,” she said, her voice small now, quieter than I had ever heard it, filled with regret. “I wasn’t supposed to let this get to me. But it did. And now all I want to do is make it right, make you see that I wasn’t playing you, that I—”

I reached for her then, my hand finding her wrist, holding her in place, the skin of my fingers burning where we touched. “I don’t know if you can.”

She swallowed hard, the words so much heavier than either of us had expected. Neither of us was ever supposed to want this, want each other.

But here we were, tangled in the mess of our own desires, unsure whether we could ever untangle ourselves. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath against the storm between us. “I never meant to hurt you.”

And as the last bit of the distance between us vanished, I couldn’t help but wonder if the damage had already been done.

Would we be able to fix what we had broken, or were we destined to fall apart in the spaces we had made for each other?

The tension between us was palpable, a charged silence that seemed to stretch out endlessly, heavy with all the things we hadn’t said, all the things we couldn’t say.

I could feel the weight of her gaze on me, every flicker of emotion she didn’t let herself express—how her eyes betrayed her strength, showing the cracks she thought she could hide, how the uncertainty in them mirrored the chaos in my chest.

I could feel her heart pounding through her chest, the rhythm of her pulse matching the thrum of my own.

It was as if the air between us was charged, filled with the kind of electricity that made every touch, every glance, every movement feel like an explosion waiting to happen.

Yet, somehow, it felt fragile—like a delicate thread holding us together, only waiting for one wrong move to snap it in half.

We stood there, locked in an unspoken battle, neither of us willing to give an inch, neither of us knowing where to go from here.

The weight of everything—of the nights we spent tangled in each other, of the words left unsaid, of the hurt we hadn’t acknowledged—pressed down on us.

“I didn’t mean to—” she started, her voice shaking slightly, a quiet confession in the space between us.

But I couldn’t hear it anymore. I couldn’t keep listening to her excuses, to her guilt, to the echo of all the things she wished she could take back.

I was tired of the push and pull, tired of being caught in the back-and-forth, in this constant cycle of wanting something that would never be more than what it was supposed to be.

Something casual. Something temporary.

I wasn’t sure how we got here, but I knew I was done being patient with the uncertainty. I was done pretending I didn’t care, pretending I didn’t feel the ache in my chest every time I saw her pull away.

I wasn’t going to let her keep running from this, from me.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was too late. My body moved before my mind could catch up, before I could think it through, before I could stop myself from doing what I knew would hurt but also felt so damned right.

In an instant, we were crashing into each other, the force of it as wild as the storm raging inside me.

Her lips pressed to mine, barely a whisper at first—clumsy, hesitant—but then it deepened, and I couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t a kiss anymore, not like before. This was something heavier, something realer.

This was a reckoning.

Her hands, shaking at first, slid over my chest, pressing against the heat of my skin like she was trying to pull herself closer, like she was desperate for something more than just this.

My hands moved instinctively, fingers tracing over the curve of her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her shirt, grounding me in the moment.

There was no space between us anymore. No distance. We were wrapped up in each other, breathing each other in, every inhale sharp with the need we couldn’t deny any longer.

And yet, even as the kiss deepened, the intensity rising like a tidal wave, I could feel the weight of the past pressing in on me.

I could feel it in the way her lips trembled against mine, in the way her breath hitched in the space between our kisses.

We had both been here before—caught in the heat of the moment, tangled in the confusion of everything we had tried to bury—but this time, it was different.

This time, there was something raw, something unspoken, that neither of us could escape.

Her body pressed against mine, her chest heaving with every breath, and I could feel the frantic urgency in her touch, in the way she grabbed at my hoodie, pulling me closer, as if she was trying to erase all the distance between us, all the walls we had put up.

Her hands moved over me, frantic and unsteady, like she was searching for something she didn’t know how to find.

I could feel the heat of her skin seeping into mine, every touch igniting something deep inside me, something that felt dangerous, something that felt like it might burn us both.

But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

We were lost in each other now, lost in the moment, in the intensity of the kiss, in the desperation that had taken over our bodies.

It was a new kind of intimacy—familiar yet strange, like we were finally seeing each other for the first time in a way we never had before.

Every movement felt like a step closer to something we hadn’t been ready for, but now couldn’t escape.

My hands roamed over her back, feeling the shudder that rippled through her as if she was trying to ground herself in me, trying to anchor herself in the chaos.

Her lips left mine, breathless, and before I could think, I found my hands on her neck, pulling her closer, guiding her down to my level.

She lowered herself to me, her forehead resting gently against mine as we both tried to catch our breath.

For a moment, we were silent. But the silence wasn’t empty. It was full of all the things we hadn’t said, all the things we hadn’t allowed ourselves to feel.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the quiet that surrounded us.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she tilted her head, eyes searching mine, her breath still coming in uneven gasps.

“Neither do I,” she confessed, her voice soft but laced with something raw, something vulnerable. “But I know I can’t keep pretending.”

And in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no more confusion, no more questions.

Just the two of us, tangled up in the mess we had created, and the quiet realization that we couldn’t go back. The thread between us, fragile as it was, had already snapped.

The moment Paige's lips found mine again, it was as if the world fell away completely.

My breath hitched, a soft sigh escaping me as her hands tangled in my hair, fingers threading through the strands of my blond locks with a tenderness that belied the tension between us.

There was a pull to her touch, an urgency, but also a sense of reverence, like she was trying to memorize every moment, every second of our closeness.

Her hands slid beneath the fabric of my oversized hoodie, the warmth of her fingertips brushing against the exposed skin of my hips.

I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through me, her touch igniting a fire inside that burned brighter with every second. Her fingers, so deliberate, so careful at first, traced the line of my skin before dipping lower.

The thin elastic of my black thong caught between her fingers, a whisper of tension that made my heart race. Her touch became more daring, more possessive as she ran her hand farther down, pulling me closer to her.

I could feel her every movement, the way her hands shifted, finding their way around the curve of my ass, squeezing softly as she groaned into our kiss.

I pulled away slightly, my lips just a centimeter apart from hers, breath mingling heavily in the space between us.

My chest heaved, the weight of everything crashing down on me, and all I could manage was a quiet, desperate "Fuck me," slipping out of my mouth like a confession, like a plea.

The words hung in the air between us, raw and vulnerable, yet undeniable. Paige’s breath caught, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

Her hands paused, her fingers still buried in the fabric of my hoodie, the weight of her touch as heavy as the silence between us.

But that silence shattered when her lips crashed against mine once more, this time with a hunger that made my knees weak. She pulled me closer, closing the space between us, her body pressing into mine with a force that left no room for doubt, no room for hesitation.

The intensity of her touch sent waves of heat through my skin, every inch of me coming alive beneath her hands.

She gripped my hips, pulling me against her, and I felt the unmistakable hardness of her body beneath the thin layers separating us. Her hands were everywhere—sliding up my back, cupping the back of my neck, fingers tangling in the strands of my hair like she couldn’t get enough.

Her lips left mine only to trail down to my jaw, my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Each kiss felt like an imprint, like she was marking me as hers, like I was hers—trapped in the pull of her gravity, unable to escape even if I wanted to.

I gasped as her hands moved lower, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just above my waistband before dipping beneath it, slipping past the fabric of my underwear with a smoothness that made my pulse spike.

Her touch was steady, sure, like she knew exactly how to make me burn without ever needing to ask.

My breath hitched again as her hand slid over the curve of my ass, groping, squeezing, pulling me closer still, as if she couldn’t get enough of the feel of me, of the way our bodies fit together so perfectly.

I moaned softly, unable to hold it in, my hands falling to her chest, pressing against the hard planes of her body, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath the fabric of her shirt.

The sensation of her skin under my fingertips made my thoughts scatter. She was everywhere—her lips, her hands, the heat of her body. I wanted her. I needed her.

"Paige..." My voice was barely a whisper, thick with need, my hands tugging at her shirt as I pulled her even closer, if that was even possible.

She didn’t wait for me to finish, her lips pressing against mine again, her tongue pushing into my mouth with a force that left no room for anything but her.

"Jump," Paige murmured against my lips, her voice low and filled with intent.

I didn’t hesitate. Without a word, I wrapped my legs around her waist, my arms around her neck, clinging to her as she lifted me effortlessly, her muscles flexing beneath me.

The air around us felt thick, every movement heavy with the weight of what we were about to do. We didn’t need to speak anymore.

There was no room for doubt. We were here, caught in the gravity of each other, and nothing else mattered.

As Paige carried me toward the stairs, it was as if our bodies knew the way.

Even in the pitch black, she navigated her way through my condo with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

Every step was instinctual, every movement fluid as she guided us toward the bedroom. I could feel her pulse beneath my fingertips, the rhythm of her breath matching the frantic thrum of my own.

My mind raced, my thoughts scattered, but all I could focus on was the sensation of her touch, of the heat radiating from her body, of the way she made everything else disappear.

Her hands were everywhere—running along my back, sliding down to my hips, her fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs as she carried me.

Her touch was possessive, as if she was claiming me in a way that left no room for anyone else, as if she needed me in the same way I needed her.

The world outside of us was nothing but a distant memory, the noise of the city muted by the sound of our heavy breathing, the pounding of our hearts.

The moment we reached the bedroom, she set me down gently on the bed—but as soon as my body met the softness of the mattress, I was back in her arms, her lips crashing into mine, as if even a second apart was unbearable.

She hovered over me, her breath mingling with mine, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging just enough to make me shiver.

My hands were frantic, pulling at her clothes, desperate to feel more of her. Every inch of her skin was like fire against mine, every kiss a promise, every touch a declaration.

I was lost in her, in the pull of her gravity, in the undeniable need that had taken over both of us.

I could feel the world slipping away, unraveling around us as the distance between us closed. The air, thick with the scent of desire, clung to my skin like a second layer.

Every brush of Paige’s fingers, every press of her lips, sparked something inside me—something primal, something fierce. She was a wildfire, a storm I could never outrun.

She consumed me, and I let her.

Her hands—strong and sure—were everywhere. Tugging at the fabric of my hoodie with a desperation that mirrored my own, the fabric slipping easily from my body, falling to the floor like leaves caught in a windstorm.

She kissed me again, harder this time, her lips urgent against mine, as if trying to force me into the same frenzy that was building in her.

Her tongue, hot and demanding, slid against mine in a dance we’d perfected over the months, and I found myself lost in it, in the way our bodies fit together like two halves of a whole.

My breath hitched as her fingers ghosted over my skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Then, she pulled away just enough to look at me, her gaze dark, nearly predatory.

Paige was practically drooling at the sight beneath her—the way the lacey thong clung to my hips, the delicate bra pushing my breasts together so nicely.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, eyes drinking me in like she’d never seen anything so perfect.

I spread my legs just a little more, inviting her in, watching the way her jaw clenched as she moved up the bed, positioning herself between my thighs.

“Look at you,” she whispered, voice thick with hunger. “So damn pretty.”

And then, she was on me again—touching, tasting, making it impossible to think about anything other than her.

"God, I need you," she murmured against my lips, her voice raw and ragged, thick with emotion. Her breath was hot against my ear as she pressed her body into mine, every inch of her warmth seeping through me, setting me ablaze.

I could feel her heartbeat under my fingertips, steady and strong, as my hands moved over her skin, memorizing every curve, every inch of her.

My fingers trailed down the hard lines of her arms, her sides, grazing the soft skin of her waist, before slipping lower, finding the familiar curve of her hips.

She was a map of desire, every part of her calling to me, pulling me closer, deeper into the orbit of her body.

"Paige..." I gasped, my voice trembling, my fingers curling around the drawstring of her gray sweatpants. There was no room for hesitation now—only raw, desperate need.

I wanted her, wanted to feel every part of her, to melt into her completely. Words felt useless when my hands could say so much more.

She let out a low, guttural sound, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched me. Her eyes—dark, smoldering with hunger—never wavered. She didn’t stop me, didn’t rush me.

Just watched, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

The moment I tugged at the tie, loosening it with deliberate slowness, her breath hitched. I slid the soft fabric down her thighs, my touch lingering, savoring the heat of her skin beneath my fingertips.

Paige exhaled sharply, her own impatience surfacing as she kicked the sweatpants off the rest of the way, tossing them somewhere into the room without a second thought. Her movements were fluid, unbothered, like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

My hands roamed over her, tracing the curves of her hips, the smooth expanse of her stomach, every inch of warm, inviting skin.

And when my fingers skimmed the waistband of her boxers, barely brushing the fabric, she gasped—sharp and sudden.

Her eyes met mine then, locked in a silent challenge, an unspoken dare. An invitation.

And I wasn’t about to turn it down

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion, the weight of the moment pressing into my chest.

My hands found her again, pulling her closer, desperate to feel every inch of her against me.

Every touch, every glance, was a promise—a silent confession that neither of us was going anywhere, that we were caught in this storm together.

Her breath hitched as I let my fingers trail lower, slipping past the waistband of her boxers, teasing over the soft warmth between her thighs.

A quiet gasp left her lips as I traced my fingers through her folds, feeling the heat, the slickness, the way she trembled under my touch.

"Don’t stop," she breathed, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me to her again, her lips crashing into mine in a kiss so intense I thought I might lose myself in it.

Her hands were everywhere now—pressing against my waist, guiding me closer, urging me to forget the world outside of us, to forget everything but her, but this moment, this feeling that was consuming us both.

I could feel her warmth, the steady pulse of her heart, and the shallow breath she took as it synced with the frantic beat of my own.

Every inch of her was an electric current running through me, pulling me in closer, as if our bodies were desperate to become one.

The air between us was thick with the heat of our desire, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, but still, neither of us could get close enough.

I slowly pulled my hand away from Paige's boxers, my fingers brushing against her skin as if reluctant to let go. She stood before me, her chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths.

My hands found the familiar curve of her back, my fingers gently gliding up her spine as I pushed both her shirt and her hoodie over her head.

Her skin was smooth and warm, illuminated by the soft glow of the room's light.

Now standing before me in nothing but her Nike sports bra, Paige's abs were perfectly defined, each muscle a testament to her strength and dedication.

I couldn't help but trace the subtle lines of her body with my eyes, marveling at how effortlessly beautiful she was.

She let out a soft sigh, and without hesitation, I leaned forward, my lips brushing the curve of her neck.

I kissed her slowly, savoring the feel of her pulse against my mouth as I moved down to her collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth behind. Each kiss was a mark, a promise, staking my claim on her in the most intimate way possible.

Her hands were back on me, pulling at the waistband of my thong, and I couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from my lips as her fingers skimmed the bare skin of my inner thighs.

She was always so sure, so confident in everything she did, and I loved it, loved how she knew exactly how to touch me, exactly how to make me lose myself in her.

She knew my body the way a painter knew their canvas, and each touch, each caress, felt like a stroke of genius.

She paused for a heartbeat, her hands still on me, as though she were savoring the feeling of me beneath her touch.

Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, a softness in her eyes that only made her intensity more magnetic.

“Are you sure?” Her voice was a low murmur, a vulnerable question that tugged at something deep within me. Despite the hesitation in her tone, there was an undeniable fierceness in her gaze, a fierce need I could feel just as strongly as she did.

I reached up, my hands trembling slightly as they cupped her face, my thumbs brushing the softness of her cheeks.

The warmth of her skin burned through me, making my heart race.

"Yes," I whispered, the word thick with need, with desire, with everything I couldn’t hold back. “Please, baby. I want you.”

Her eyes softened at my words, and I saw the shift—the sudden deepening of the heat between us. It was as though something had cracked wide open, something neither of us could hold back anymore.

The world seemed to narrow, just the two of us, the air between us charged with the promise of something we both needed desperately.

Then, with an urgency that took my breath away, Paige tore the thong from my body, the fabric tugged roughly from my skin.

My breath hitched as she widened my legs, a groan escaping her lips as she took in the sight of me laid bare for her– glistening with desperation.

Her eyes drank me in, hunger evident in every glance, her heat matching my own. I whimpered, the sound slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

“M’gonna take my time with you,” she whispered, her voice thick with raw desire, and there was something about the way she said it, like a promise that sent a shiver down my spine.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself, never breaking eye contact, her lips trailing over the curve of my body.

Every touch was a caress, a teasing kiss, a nip that sent jolts of electricity through my veins. I gasped, my body arching toward her as she kissed, licked, and nipped her way down, her lips hot against my skin.

She paused just above my hips, pressing two gentle kisses against my hip bones, before trailing lower still, teasing me with the lightest touch, until her lips brushed over the most sensitive part of me.

The sensation hit me like a tidal wave, the rush of heat flooding my veins, pulling every breath from my chest, leaving me dizzy with longing.

Each touch, each kiss, was a jolt of pleasure that surged through my body, igniting every nerve. The intensity was overwhelming—an insatiable craving that I couldn’t escape, couldn’t contain.

The air around us felt thick, almost suffocating, as the weight of our need pressed in from all sides. My heart raced, my chest tightening as I fought to breathe, and in that singular moment, nothing mattered but her—her touch, her presence, the way she made me feel.

Paige moved slowly, deliberately, settling between my thighs with an ease that was both possessive and tender. She draped my legs over her strong, muscular shoulders, the warmth of her skin radiating against mine.

I could feel the roughness of her hands as they slid up my thighs, her touch firm but gentle, tracing the sensitive lines of my body like she knew exactly where to make me shiver.

Her lips were warm against my skin, and as she shifted, I felt her breath against me—soft, almost reverent, before she pressed a long, slow kiss against the inner curve of my leg.

Then her tongue—oh God—her tongue slid up my skin, slow and smooth, until it reached its destination.

Every inch of me seemed to pulse with the sensation, my body aching with an intensity I couldn’t name. Her groan, deep and guttural, vibrated through me.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with raw, unfiltered desire. It wasn’t just words—it was a confession, a promise, something that was carved into the air between us.

A shiver ran through me at the sound, my entire body responding to her touch, my skin tingling with need.

“Paige… please,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper, the words thick with desperation.

I didn’t know if I was asking her to stop or begging her for more; all I knew was that I needed her, needed this, needed her to feel just as consumed as I was.

She didn’t hesitate.

Her tongue flicked out, teasing me with long, languid strokes that made my back arch and my breath catch in my throat.

She moved with an expertise that made it feel like time was stretching, each second lasting an eternity as she lavished me with her touch.

My entire body was alive with sensation—heat pooling low in my stomach, my pulse thrumming in time with her every move.

When her tongue circled around my clit, the world tilted, spinning out of control.

My breath hitched, my hips rising instinctively toward her as I felt the first surge of pleasure ripple through me, a wave of warmth that made my body tremble in her grasp.

But she was steady, her hands gripping my thighs, her lips never leaving me, as if she had all the time in the world to make me feel every inch of her. And I wanted it. Needed it.

Her touch, her breath, the quiet intensity that passed between us, felt like the universe had narrowed down to just this, just us, connected in ways that were raw, beautiful, and endlessly consuming.

Her lips were everywhere, teasing, tasting—each movement calculated but dripping with desire.

Paige’s hands held my thighs firmly, her fingers pressing into my soft skin as her mouth worked over me, lips wrapping around my sensitive clit, pulling gently, then flicking with quick, precise motions. Each time, I gasped, a desperate sound falling from my lips, my back arching slightly in response.

She alternated between dragging her tongue slowly across my folds and lapping at me with quick, heated strokes, her tongue now darting, now pressing against me, just enough to send tremors through my entire body.

I tangled my fingers in her hair, my other hand gripping the edge of the bed, barely able to hold on as she continued to drive me wild. I could feel the warmth of her mouth, the sharpness of her movements, and I wanted more.

"Fuck," I breathed, unable to stop myself as she sucked on my clit, her mouth fully enveloping me. "Don’t stop."

Paige hummed against me, the vibration sending a wave of heat through my core, and I moaned loudly, pushing my hips up in response.

Her eyes met mine, dark with want, a slow smile curving her lips as she pulled back for just a second.

“You like that, huh?” she asked, her voice dripping with confidence, though it was breathless.

“You like the way I make you squirm?” Her tongue flicked over my clit, just a quick pass before she pulled back to stare at me, her face inches from mine. She loved watching me unravel.

"God, yes," I gasped, the need coursing through me. "You—" I couldn't finish the thought, my words cut off by the sensation of her tongue plunging deep into me, flicking inside, then pulling back, teasing me just enough to make my head spin.

My hips bucked, desperate, as she pressed into me, finding the perfect rhythm, sliding in and out with precision, her lips wrapping around my clit, sucking it, pulling it, making me forget everything but her.

Her mouth moved against me like it was an art, a need, every flick, every thrust of her tongue taking me higher.

"You taste so fucking good," she murmured against my skin, and her voice—low, guttural—sent a fresh wave of heat through me.

Her tongue flicked back to my entrance, teasing the sensitive area with just enough pressure before pushing in again, her lips kissing my folds as her tongue slipped deeper.

“Shit, Paige," I gasped, my fingers tightening in her hair, pulling her closer. The way she moved, relentless, her tongue flicking in and out of me, then circling my clit with maddening speed... I couldn’t take it much longer. "Please, I need—"

She cut me off with a sharp, deliberate thrust of her tongue, her mouth pressing harder against me as she moved with precision, lips wrapping around the bud once more.

The tight coil in my stomach tightened, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

"You're gonna make me cum," I whimpered, my voice rough with need. I felt her smile against me, smug satisfaction radiating from her as she hummed in approval.

“Then do it, baby,” she urged, her words muffled as her tongue flicked across my clit once more, pressure building with every pass. "Let me feel you come all over my face."

And with that, my body gave way. I cried out, my hips jerking as I came undone under her, waves of pleasure crashing over me, my hand gripping her head to keep her against me as my orgasm tore through me.

Paige didn’t stop, not even when I begged her to. She kept going, her tongue still working against me as I shuddered, my breath coming in gasps.

Only when I tried to push her away, my hand finally urging her back, did she pull away, her lips glistening with my slick, eyes locked on me with a satisfied grin.

"Fuck," I panted, breathless, utterly wrecked. "You... you know how to make me lose control."

Paige pulled away slowly, her lips still glistening from the mix of my arousal. Her eyes locked onto mine, a smirk spreading across her face as she wiped her thumb over the slick on her chin, collecting it.

Without breaking eye contact, she slid her thumb into her mouth, sucking it clean, all while keeping that smug, almost predatory grin.

“You taste even better than I remembered,” she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. “I’ve always known, baby. Jus’ too good.”

Paige hovers over me, her lips finding mine with an urgent heat, a hunger that I can’t help but feel deep in my bones.

Every kiss she gives me feels like a promise, a slow burn of need that echoes through every part of me. Her mouth on mine is intoxicating, and I feel every inch of it.

My body is still humming from the pleasure I just felt, the bliss lingering in my core.

The sensation of her lips against mine only makes it more intense, like a beautiful reminder of what just passed and what’s still to come.

My core aches with that emptiness, the quiet pulse that calls for more, even as I try to savor the moment.

When her tongue slides between my lips, I taste myself on her, a raw, sweet flavor that sends another wave of heat through me.

The realization hits me, and the thought of her carrying my taste on her tongue, the way her lips move against mine, makes my breath hitch. It’s almost too much, the connection, the way it feels like we’re melting into one another.

,Paige’s hands move with purpose, slipping behind my back to unclasp my bra. When the fabric loosens, I feel the heat of her fingertips against my skin, sending shivers all over me.

The moment my bra falls away, her touch doesn’t stop—it lingers, tracing fire over my skin. But even as the bra drops away, our lips stay locked, refusing to break the connection.

I feel it in my chest, in my breath, the way she consumes me in every kiss.

I can’t help but return the favor, my hands sliding down to touch her, to feel her.

My fingers find the waistband of her boxers, already pulling them down, but before I can go any further, she stops me. I look up, confused, and the look on her face is intense.

Her breath is heavy, and her voice is low, full of desire. “Ride me,” she breathes, her eyes locked on mine with that same hunger, and it shoots straight to my core.

I stare at her for a moment, my brow furrowing. “But what about—”

Before I can finish, she silences me with another kiss, a soft, quick peck that shushes my concerns.

“Don’t worry about it,” she whispers, her lips brushing against mine as she pulls away. Without another word, she leans over to the bedside drawer, her movements smooth and fluid.

I watch, feeling my heart race in my chest, my anticipation growing with every motion.

She pulls open the drawer, retrieving the strap-on, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

My breath catches as she begins to slip it on, her legs shifting beneath her as she adjusts the harness, pulling it up her thighs.

The sound of the strap tightening against her skin fills the room, each deliberate motion heightening the tension between us.

I watch her, feeling my pulse quicken. The heat in the room is thickening, and I can feel the desire between us, an undeniable pull that I can’t escape.

My body buzzes with the need for her, the ache in my belly growing again as I take in the way she moves, how she looks, how she’s getting ready for what’s to come.

I swallow hard, my breath coming quicker now, my stomach fluttering with excitement and anticipation. I feel that familiar warmth deep within me again, the longing that never seems to fade.

The bed shifts beneath me, the sound of the sheets rustling as Paige settles back onto it, her back sinking against the headboard, her body relaxed but her eyes burning with something dangerous.

She pats her thigh, the gesture casual but commanding, like she knows exactly what it does to me. “C’mere baby,” she murmurs, the tone rich with unspoken need.

I don’t hesitate. My body moves on instinct, trembling slightly as I climb over her, straddling her thighs.

My skin tingles, the cool air hitting me while the heat between us is palpable, thick enough to taste.

Paige’s gaze trails over me, from the way my chest rises and falls to the slickness pooling between my legs, and I can feel the pressure of her eyes on me like a physical touch.

She’s watching me carefully, waiting, like she’s savoring the moment before she makes her next move.

I feel the weight of her gaze as I reach down, my fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the strap. With a quiet breath, I spit into my palm, slicking the strap with my saliva.

The action feels so simple, yet so intimate, like it's the most natural thing in the world, and yet it stirs something deep inside me.

I stroke it once, twice, feeling the warmth of my hand glide along the silicone, the motion steady and confident. Her breath catches, sharp and shallow, her eyes locked on mine as she watches every movement with hungry anticipation.

“Fuck, ma,” she whispers under her breath, the words thick with desire, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You're so fucking wet," Paige says, voice low and thick. "Look at you baby, want you to ride me." Her words hang heavy in the air, but it's the dark hunger in them that makes my pulse quicken.

My mind spins, a tight knot of desire and uncertainty twisting in my stomach. "Paige, are you sure..." I start to protest, but she cuts me off, her lips brushing over mine in a soft kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s a claim, a promise.

Her hand slides up to grip my waist, urging me forward with an urgency that stops any further thought.

"Shh," she whispers against my lips, "don’t worry ‘bout me, baby."

Her hands are everywhere—on my hips, guiding me forward, pulling me closer, and I feel myself obeying without question.

My breath quickens, the tip of the strap brushing against my entrance. The sensation is already so much, yet it’s nothing compared to the aching emptiness inside me.

I lower myself slowly, inch by inch, each movement deliberate, as the strap stretches me open.

The fullness is immediate, overwhelming, and I gasp, trying to adjust to the slow, steady pressure.

Every inch fills me more, deeper, until I’m fully seated on her, and I can't help but moan at the sensation—the way it fills me so completely, the way I feel every inch of the length inside my walls.

“S-shit, baby.”

I stay there for a moment, letting the waves of sensation crash over me, feeling the stretch, the heat, the way my body pulses around her.

Paige’s hands don’t leave my waist, holding me still as her eyes watch me with a mixture of lust and satisfaction.

“Good girl,” she growls, her hands gripping tighter as I begin to move, rocking my hips slowly at first. "Take it all, baby. Show me how much you need it."

Her words break something in me, and I begin to ride her, the motion slow at first but quickly growing desperate. I feel my brow furrow, the way my jaw slackens as I lose myself in the pleasure.

My body is responding to her, each movement pushing me closer to the edge. The strap slides in and out, the friction making my insides tighten around it, the sensation of fullness overwhelming me.

I bite my lip to hold back a moan, but it slips out anyway, quiet and needy.

Paige’s gaze is fixed on me, her eyes dark with hunger, watching every inch of me, every little shiver that runs through me.

“So fucking perfect. The way you move for me, the way you ride my dick—God, you drive me crazy. You’ve got no idea how good you look right now.” She licks her lips, eyes never leaving mine, her voice low and commanding.

“Could watch you fall apart like this for hours, baby. You're fucking breathtaking."

The words send a thrill through me, and my hips move faster, harder, as I try to chase the feeling, that deep ache in my core that won’t stop building.

“Fuck, Paige,” I mewled, moaning as I felt every inch of the strap stretch me open, the pressure building inside me. I moved with it, desperate for release, each thrust making my breath hitch.

My chest rose and fell with the rhythm, my hands gripping her thighs for balance as I rocked against her, craving more of the sensation, more of her.

My body is trembling now, on the verge of losing control, the pressure mounting with every second.

“Look at you,” Paige growls, her voice rough with need. “So fuckin’ wet f’me. So desperate.” She grips my hips tightly, her fingers digging into my flesh as she helps guide my movements.

“You love the way I make you feel, hm? Love this pussy, fuck– can’t get enough of you.”

The rawness in her voice pushes me further, and I feel the wave of heat build between my legs. My body is betraying me, aching for more, moving faster on its own as I reach for the release I’ve been desperately chasing.

My legs tremble, the tension coiling so tightly inside me that I feel like I’m about to snap. My lips part, desperate to form words, but all that spills out are breathless, broken moans.

Paige’s thumb finds my clit, pressing down in slow, deliberate circles, each one sending a fresh wave of pleasure through me, dragging me deeper into the overwhelming bliss..

A low, needy whimper slips from my throat as I press harder onto her, my head tilting back slightly, eyes fluttering closed, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I can’t stop now, not when I’m this close—my hips grinding desperately, each movement drawing me closer to the edge.

“You’re perfect for me, baby. Just like this,” she pants, her voice dripping with praise, her eyes wild with lust.

“You take me so fucking well. Keep going.” Paige continued to mewl, her teeth grazing her bottom lip as she groaned at the sight of me clenching around her.

“Don’t stop, just like that. I’m never going to get enough of you, not when you’re this fucking beautiful.”

"Paige—I can't," I sigh, my words breaking off as my movements grow more erratic. The sensation of her inside me is overwhelming, too much, too fucking good. My hips grind down harder, chasing the intensity that’s building deep in my core.

My breath comes in shallow bursts, lost in the frenzy of it all. I can't think, can't focus—only the feeling of her filling me, the sharp edge of desire that pushes me forward, deeper into the bliss I crave. Every inch, every movement is too much, yet I can't stop, can't slow down.

“This dick too much for you, ma?” she mocks with a grin, pressing her lips to one of my nipples before pulling away with a soft pop. The heat of her mouth lingers on my skin, and I shiver, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.

“C’mon, baby,” she growls, her hands tightening on my hips, guiding me as I ride her. “So close, I can feel it. You’re so fucking tight, so perfect." Her voice dips low, sending a shock of pleasure through me. "Be a good girl and keep ridin’ me. Move with me, baby—just like that.”

Her words spill from her lips like a command and a promise, urging me to find the rhythm, to move faster, deeper.

Every thrust is a jolt of electricity, and her hands help pull me closer, pushing me harder onto her. I feel every inch of her inside me, the heat building, and my breath comes out in soft pants as I chase the pleasure she promises.

I obey, my body responding to her command as if it's the only thing that matters in this world. The air around us seems to vanish, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of her filling me, the stretch of the strap deeper than I ever expected.

The rhythm of our bodies colliding sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, every thrust pulling me further under her control.

I can hear the slap of skin against skin, the desperate, breathless gasps that escape my lips, and it only makes me want more.

Each inch of her pushes me closer to the edge, the heat between us like an inferno, smoldering beneath the surface.

The strap is a thick, unrelenting force inside me, and with every stroke, I feel the pressure build, that tight coil of tension winding inside my belly, threatening to snap.

My legs shake, trembling with need, my body so close to release I can already taste it. The pleasure is a wave, building higher, and my entire being is focused on that one beautiful moment where I can finally let go.

"Shit—baby, I’m gonna come," I gasp, the words spilling from my lips without any thought as my body burns with the need for release.

Paige groans, her grip tightening on my hips as she thrusts harder, faster, making my whole body jerk with each motion. "Yeah? Gonna come on my dick, ma?" she growls, her voice rough, sending an electric thrill through me.

Before I can answer, just as I’m about to lose myself, to surrender to the bliss that’s been building within me, Paige pulls out with a sharp motion, lifting me effortlessly and tossing me to the side.

The sudden emptiness inside me is a shock, and I can’t help but whine in protest, my mind hazy, still clinging to the remnants of pleasure.

I open my mouth to argue, to demand that she finish what she started, but my words dissolve into a breathless moan, high-pitched and desperate.

“Paige, please…” I start, but the words catch in my throat, swallowed by the sensation that still lingers in my core.

Before I can say anything more, Paige’s hands grip my thighs, and in one swift motion, she’s back inside me, sliding deep with a single, forceful thrust.

My legs are immediately lifted, thrown over her shoulders, and my body trembles beneath her power. A gasp escapes my lips, a primal sound that I can't control.

“Oh my fuck!” I yell, my eyes slamming shut as my jaw slackens, the shock of her re-entering me overwhelming every other thought in my mind.

My body burns, every inch of me pulsing with the deep, heavy sensation of her inside me again, rearranging my guts.

The new angle has me seeing stars, my vision blurring as pleasure crashes over me in dizzying waves, leaving me breathless and utterly undone.

My moans become louder, more guttural, rising from the depths of my chest as I feel the delicious ache of fullness.

The pressure builds again, only this time it’s faster, more frantic. I can feel her deep in me, her movements deliberate and slow at first, but I can’t stop myself from pushing against her, desperate for more, aching for release.

Every snap of her hips slams into that devastatingly perfect spot, the one that has my vision blurring, my mouth falling open in a silent cry, my entire body surrendering to the waves of bliss crashing over me.

"Fuck, Paige!" I whine, my voice strained, filled with need. "Don’t stop, please!"

Paige’s groan fills the room as she picks up the pace, her thrusts deep and relentless. "You feel so fucking good, baby. You’re mine, you hear me?" She growls, each word like a command, making me ache even more. "You’re gonna come all over me. I can feel it, ma."

The pornographic moans echo through the room, and my body arches involuntarily, lifting as if I’m trying to take every inch of her, desperate to lose myself in the sensation.

Paige keeps me trapped beneath her, driving into me with a relentless precision that leaves me trembling, completely at her mercy—my body hers to command, my pleasure hers to ruin.

Each thrust drags me deeper into a haze of overwhelming sensation, my mind slipping further as she moves against me like she was made for this, like I was made for her.

“Come for me, baby,” she grits out, her voice thick with need, her grip on my hips tightening as she drives into me.

The tension inside me snaps, and I break with a choked sob, my entire body seizing as a rush of pleasure consumes me.

Liquid spills between us, soaking everything—sheets, skin, her lower abdomen. I barely register the wrecked sound Paige makes, nearly undone herself at the sight of me falling apart for her.

“Oh, fuck,” she groans, grinding into me as she helps me ride it out, dragging out every last wave of bliss until I’m nothing but a trembling, breathless mess beneath her.

“Shit, ma— look at that. Jus’ squirted everywhere.”

Paige pulls out slowly, deliberately, as if she knows exactly how fragile I am in this moment. A soft whimper escapes me, melting into a breathless moan, my body still trembling from the aftermath.

My limbs are useless, boneless, my chest rising and falling in uneven, heavy breaths as I lay beneath her, utterly wrecked—flushed, spent, undone.

She lingers above me, eyes roaming, drinking me in with something raw and possessive.

I can feel the heat of her gaze mapping every inch of me, lingering on the way my skin glistens, the way I’m still dripping from her, the way the sheets beneath us are damp with the evidence of her destruction.

Paige exhales, a low, shaky sound, her fingers trailing over my thigh, barely grazing, teasing—because she can. I twitch beneath her, too sensitive, and her lips curl into a smirk before she leans down, capturing my mouth in a slow, languid kiss.

It’s teasing, indulgent, her teeth grazing my bottom lip just enough to make me exhale a quiet, breathy laugh against her mouth.

Paige chuckles too, the sound deep, warm, sending a shiver down my spine as she melts into me, pressing closer, stealing another kiss, and then another—soft, lazy, unhurried.

And then she pulls back just slightly, lips still brushing against mine, voice nothing more than a hushed murmur.

“Is it too late to tell you I’m releasing another song about you… in an hour?”

My words take a second to sink in, her mind too dazed, too hazy, before I force my eyes open and glance at the clock on my bedside table. *3:00 AM.* The realization has me groaning, too exhausted to be annoyed but awake enough to tease her.

“So “Purple Lace Bra was about me,” she muttered, her voice hoarse, thick with exhaustion.

Paige’s lips curl into a playful grin, her teeth grazing my jaw with a soft, teasing nip before she presses another kiss there—gentle, featherlight, almost too tender for the intensity we just shared.

Her eyes flicker with a quiet satisfaction as she pulls back, her hands reaching for the strap-on.

The movement is slow, deliberate, and somehow reverent as she carefully slips it off, tossing it aside with a casual ease that contrasts the wildness of the moment.

“Obviously,” I hums, my voice laced with amusement as Paige rolls onto her side, pulling me against her chest. Her arms settle around me, warm and firm, her fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against my damp skin.

We settle into a quiet lull, our laughter fading into something softer, something more fragile. Paige exhales, her hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear before she stills, her touch lingering.

“Hey,” she murmurs, so soft it’s barely above a whisper, as if anything louder might shatter me completely. “I just want you to know that I’m truly sorry.”

I blink up at her, my breath catching slightly.

“I’m sorry I was being a dumbass,” she says, her tone edged with something raw, something real.

I don’t hesitate. I lean in, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, not to distract, not to avoid, but to answer. She melts into it instantly, her fingers tightening on my waist as if grounding herself in me.

And when I pull back, just enough to press my forehead against hers, I murmur, “Why don’t we—” I pause, considering, letting the thought take shape before I say it aloud. “Why don’t we take this slow?”

Paige exhales, something deep and unspoken passing between us before she nods. “Yeah,” she breathes. “Slow.”

The moment lingers, stretching into something infinite, before she pulls me closer, wrapping herself around me completely.

The tension fades into something softer, something warmer, as her hands continue their slow, soothing exploration—tracing, praising, worshipping.

She whispers against my skin, her voice a low, reverent murmur. “You were so perfect for me, baby. So good. So fuckin’ beautiful.” Her lips find my temple, my jaw, the shell of my ear.

I hum in response, too exhausted to do anything more than nuzzle into her warmth, and Paige only holds me tighter, whispering soft praises against my skin—again and again—until we finally drift off, tangled in each other, in the quiet, in the aftermath of something that feels like a beginning.

No note today, I go sleep now.

P.S I haven’t written smut in a shit long time, but I hope you enjoyed <3

xoxo,

#paige bueckers imagines #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers x singer!reader

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alinathinkstoomuch · 7 days ago

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EX-FACTOR

pairing: aaron hotchner x ex!reader summary: hotch swears he's listening to rossi, except he can’t focus on a single word when you’re at the bar with another guy, based on this request. warnings: hotch is turning greeeeen from jealousy!! pining, hotch just wants his baby back word count: 0.6k

✧ masterlist | ✧ alina's 1k bar

Aaron was trying to listen to Rossi—really, he was. Something about a plot of land and investment potential and tax benefits or… God, he’d lost the thread ages ago. He nodded here and there, tossed out a half-hearted “yeah?” or “makes sense,” but his focus wasn’t anywhere near the conversation. Neither were his eyes.

They were glued to the crowd, more specifically to the gap in it. The spot where you used to be.

You’d disappeared ten minutes ago, and so had the guy who’d been flirting with you. Some twenty-something whose fingers grazed the side of your waist like he had any right to be even within six feet of you.

“And what exactly is your plan for tonight?” Rossi asked, swirling the last bit of his bourbon.

“What?”

“The staring? Gripping your glass like it can breathe?” Rossi lifted his brows. “What’s next? You going to challenge him to a duel?”

“I’m just watching,” Aaron muttered.

“Mmm,” Rossi said, which was Italian for you’re full of shit but I’m going to let you dig this hole a little deeper.

Aaron didn’t respond, his eyes doing their seventh sweep of the minute. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for the most, that you’d look back and catch him, or that the guy would spontaneously combust under the weight of his scowl. But for any of that to happen, he had to see where you were.

And he knew that he had no right. That it wasn’t his business anymore, that the only real authority he had over you these days was inside a briefing room with a suspect on the board. Because this? A bar, a night off, your clothes, your smile, a stranger’s hand on your waist? This wasn’t his jurisdiction. This was your playing field now. And Aaron was a benched sub who’d already had his shot and fumbled the pass, reduced to a spectator at best. A ghost, more likely.

“She’s allowed to dance, you know,” Rossi continued, not unkindly. “Even allowed to enjoy it.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Good,” Rossi said, far too breezily. “Maybe she even left with him. Can’t see her anywhere.”

Aaron’s head whipped towards the exit so fast, it stirred a breeze around him. For a moment his stomach dropped in that cold, involuntary way it did when something went wrong on a case as he considered the possibility that, maybe you did go home with him.

“I’m kidding,” Rossi chuckled. “Relax. She’s by the bar.”

And there you were. Using a stack of napkins to fan yourself, the golden lights catching on your exposed skin, the small specks of glitter scattered across your bare shoulders gracefully. He could still remember the caramel-like scent that came with it, relying on memory alone now, because he no longer had the right to be close enough to smell it again.

The lights shifted, dimming, then bleeding into a soft pink, the kind that made everything—you—look dreamlike. You gasped excitedly, grabbing Penelope’s arm where she stood beside you. She lit up just like you did, and Aaron didn’t even realise he was smiling until you were already pulling her towards the dance floor, placing a hand on the guy’s chest and yelling, “I’ll be back. This is our song!”

He hoped you wouldn’t be back, not to him, anyway. Not really. He hoped you’d stay somewhere close instead, just within reach, orbiting near enough for his eyes to find you and no one else’s.

He was grateful no one around had mind-reading abilities, because if you knew how often he thought about you, you’d probably never speak to him again. Or maybe you would. That was the thing about the two of you, the friendship had held, maybe too well. And maybe that was the problem.

Neither of you could move on.

“You’re torturing yourself,” Rossi said plainly.

Aaron didn’t look away. “I know.”

tags - @fandomscombine @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue @kiwriteswords @anvdala @supersanelyromantic @yourallaround-simp @percysley @wowitsafemale @cinnamoncunt @keiminds @iyskgd @mystic-rox @insured-by-the-mafia @mggslover @star-crossed-sephie @tearykth @2dloveshp @lovelystrawberry @imissaaronhotchner @justyourusualash @alexxavicry @storiesofsvu @ehedrick012110 @khxna

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#alina’s 1k bar🍸#mine🌟#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner one shot #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch

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sundrlands · 9 months ago

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‘significance’ j. sunderland x reader

minors dni

cw: light face slapping, light scent kink, sub/top j. sunderland x dom/bottom reader, oral, breath play if you squint, breeding kink, light spit play, dry humping. no depictions of specific characterizations in regards to the reader’s looks. reader has she/her pronouns.

summary: what happens when two deprived people meet by accident? a server and that odd man who’d always come to drink coffee every morning at 6am. from awkward conversation to a dinner that turned into rough, needy indulgence. it was easy, a deprived little thing like him… it was just too significant.

a/n: this is years after the events of sh— no mentioning of the events either. forgive me if this is all over the place… it’s definitely a long one. i kind of went wild while writing this one. there’s more smut than there is plot but nonetheless… i hope you enjoy my very first james sunderland fic.

there he goes again… that odd man… in the same spot he’d always sit in. the farthest table by the window with no one to accompany him besides himself.

james… that was his name. james sunderland.

he was kind enough to tell you this after the tenth time he’d come in. you didn’t have to ask or even tell him your own name… mostly because you didn’t know how to approach that level of conversation. you were just a server— giving the customers phony smiles, a ‘hi, how can i help you today?’ and the fakest kind of enthusiasm when any other would try to offer a joke out of curtesy.

yet something about him… his somber eyes— with light wash of rosy pink coloring the bags underneath them— that looked as if he was deep in thought… as if he were to be troubled by something… or someone from his past… the short stubble that grazed over his chin and upper lip, and his body language that seemed as if he never wanted to be bothered or probably never slept. his gaze always wandered around the diner, out the window or at the soft ripples within the mug he’d hold. sometimes… you found him staring at you, nervously looking away whenever your eyes connected. you never understood why though or what he could be thinking each time he looked at you, so you never asked or gave it much question.

james was just a stranger who came at the same time, almost every single day— six in the morning, as the sky still glowed its grey hues— not a minute early. not a minute late. the bell from the diner’s door ringing loud and brash with the thick of his boots stepping on every creaking, rotten floor board.

each time he’d come, you’d watch him to see if he’d do anything different. maybe he’d add in a sugar packet… two or three… or maybe he’d get a breakfast sandwich like mr.colemen always did— the trucker who you knew had a wife but still flirted with the older cook, ms.miles on tuesdays— or maybe he’d bring in someone he knew to occupy his time… he didn’t. it was the same each time. he’d arrive, ask for seating and sit— not wanting anything else but his coffee— black. no sugar. no cream, just like he liked it he said. he’d watch the steam from his cup vanish until it ran cold then take his sips that felt like a lifetime in between each one.

you couldn’t lie… you were fairly intrigued by him… it wasn’t as if you hadn’t had regulars come in just as much he does, if not more, but something about him seemed different… the expression he always wore… he always seemed so lost in thought yet… so attentive in his surroundings. something in you wanted to know who he was.

each time you gave him a cup of his favorite black coffee, you couldn’t help yourself but try to formulate conversation after he gave out his name… but he was always just so fucking vague… each sentence he spoke was watered down— that trickled slow like shallow water… simplistic and dry, running in a soothing hum.

it was pretty. the way he spoke.

you told him that too. a gentle, ‘you have a nice voice’ after he sung a sweet ‘thank you’ after setting the coffee down in front of his hands. he was awkward about it, like he hadn’t received a compliment like this one or a compliment at all. no words given other than that, having the conversation run flat and you walking away in regret thinking, ‘maybe that was too much’.

it only took one day when you had been off shift to see him sitting at a park bench, the one at the end of the town with his hands in his pockets, back slouched and those same somber eyes staring into the park’s pound to finally sit next to him and not feel the dynamic imbalance hit you like how it did in the diner.

“james!” your breath creating its soft clouds within the cold air as you softly spoke, vanishing as it rose.

“ah!” he hummed, “funny to see you here.” he looked at you… the blonde strands flowing against the wind, his attention fully on you instead of him quickly trying to look away. it was direct, like he stared from within your body… you didn’t expect a person like him to have such good eye contact… it almost made you nervous.

“no coffee today?” you replied, offering a smile.

“afraid not. im just on my lunch break… needed some fresh air.”

“may i ask where you work? hope that’s not improper of me to ask.” you laughed quietly, taking a real good look at him. he was almost like a statue… a rugged one. his lack of fashion sense…and his ability to hold so much expression all the while it being so bland and so cold.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his head back towards the pond, “no… no it’s not ‘improper’. it’s just an office job. pretty boring id say.”

“fitting.” you replied, “not that you’re boring! just… seems like a occupation you’d have is all.”

“i wouldn’t say that you’re wrong even if you did say that.” giving yet another humming chuckle.

you stayed for the time he had to spare. the conversation going just as you thought it would… awkward but he was sweet nonetheless. though it was the way it was, his words flowed with every sentence he spoke, like the gentle stream of the pond in front of you both or the thick clouds that scattered in the grey sky. it took you just a few moments to notice how pretty that man was. he exuded such odd comfort… and warmth that made you want to keep talking to him. listen to anything he said even if it meant nothing or sounded humorously stupid.

“well.” he sighed, grunting as he stood, “id love to keep… talking, but i have to go back.”

you nodded, exchanging your goodbyes as you watched him walk down the park’s path until his body disappeared in the distance.

and so, from then on it had been easier to talk to him. finding any way to get to know more about the odd man who only drank black coffee and stared at you from time to time. it started just at your workplace, quick and steady back and forth talk then at the park, then offering a time to spend together on your off day for breakfast.

that was the first time he had something other than coffee. it was the first time you saw him smile more than once… not a faint one… a real one— seeing how his teeth jumbled at the bottom of his mouth or the harsh smile lines appear by the sides of his lips.

the more you looked, the more you conjured how pathetic of a man james really was. his life seemed so dull… just like the springs occasional showers and faded blue skies… but he was like the sweetness of june— the warmth within this man was little to none but still, he captivated you with his odd charm even if he tried or didn’t. you couldn’t help yourself but to think it was so easy to get him flustered, to have him smile whenever you showed interest in whatever he spoke about… like a lost puppy who finally got attention after being alone for so long.

a slip of a compliment flowed in almost every other sentence, seeing him stutter in his words, choking up a thank you whenever he could. it was amusing… like an addiction. sewing your way into his life was oh so significant. he considered you a ‘friend’ to put it lightly, one who obviously stared at you whenever you weren’t looking: like at the pier. you stood in front of him, hearing the crows sing and the water waves crash against the wood— he’d eye down your frame, seeing the way your clothes hugged your form… dissociating the world’s music around you both with an open mouth and twiddling fingers.

each time, you acted as if you hadn’t noticed and maybe you were just that good for him to not pick up on it whenever you failed to mention or question why he’d stare so goddamn much. it didn’t matter anyway, you liked it just as much as he liked staring at you.

he’d sit stiff, noting how erect his back would be whenever you placed your hand on his shoulder, a soft grip given as you both spoke about whatever. he’d clear his throat whenever you stood a little too close to him, rubbing the tapered part of his hair on the back of his head with a line of ‘uh’ and ‘ums’ in between each word he spoke.

god… this man was just so pathetic.

“why don’t we have dinner?” you smiled as you turned towards him, the bustling chatter amongst the passing people as you both walked down the same park you and him had your first real conversation.

“oh.” he chirped, a quiet laugh intertwined in his speech, “sure. where?”

“my house.” you answered confidently. through the few months of you being his ‘friend’, it only seemed right, so you told him. you wanted him in a place of vulnerability. to rule out every other being that’d pass by or surround you while in public. you just wanted it to be you and him. him and you. “if that’s fine by you. im not too bad of a cook.”

“your house?” his voice fell flat but it was nothing that worried you. the ring of his monotone voice was thick and with how he reacted to your small gestures, you knew he was more than willing to oblige. “you don’t mind me… coming to your house?”

you gave a little nod and he gave a gentle smirk. james didn’t know what could happen once the dinner would happen but he had no reason to disagree… or even want to. he grew accustomed to your company, more than any coworker he had that tried to gather him for night drinks after tough shifts… or even the women who were so abrupt in their interest in him… the thin pencil skirts and revealing blazers. he didn’t care.

a date was given. four days from then after his early ending shift. and so time flew. he hadn’t come to the diner at six in the morning like he did, he wasn’t even at the spots he’d sit during his breaks from work. a part of you had been worried if he tried to avoid you, wondering why you haven’t seen him since your request. he wasn’t good at texting— sending him a ‘hi’ would only result to him replying a ‘hey’ three days later. you almost didn’t buy the groceries you needed to prepare or an outfit that wasn’t too much but definitely would grasp his attention.

luckily you did.

it had been the day and it was five in the afternoon, the sun setting itself and the wind blowing more rapidly, flowing with the night’s usual atmosphere. james stood at your door with the address you gave him not too long after he agreed for the dinner you proposed. he just stared at it’s wood, his heart racing without his mind fully understanding why. he was a grown man but too afraid to see your face until this very moment. so he’d stay in the house longer than he needed to without going to the diner in the mornings. he’d stay in his cubicle on his lunch break, finishing any extra assignments he needed done for his boss.

moments spent with his feet planted on the ground before he gave three knocks at your door. he waited, only for a minute before you opened the door. you were dressed so nicely opposed to his work outfit still on and the light fragrance of the food fumigating in the air, hitting his nose.

“you’re here.” you spoke, relieved that he hadn’t stood you up. “come in.”

and so he did. small talk was given, complimenting your abode and trinkets you had scattered all about, admiring the personality your home gave opposed to his apartment that was just there… only the essentials, almost soulless. you thanked him of course, going on about little things as he listened before you finished all that needed to be done for dinner— it was pasta. simple and easy to not fuck up.

two plates placed with wine in crystal glasses and forks being spun. you connected over the flavor of the sauce and the warmth of the garlic bread that complimented the pasta. everything went smoothly, more than you thought it would’ve. easy conversation with the add in of knowing more about who james was… though he was his usual vague self.

you couldn’t pinpoint why he had been or what was truly on his mind. in certain instances, he’d drift off, his eyes wavering with a slow chew before ending his sentence with something mundane. your curiosity kept prodding with each question you gave— he didn’t show feeling of intrusion but he wrapped around certain topics leaving you needing more to be answered.

it felt like twenty one questions… moreso… him answering yours than you were with his but his composure and hospitality hadn’t changed from his kind and awkward demeanor he’d always give. it took awhile before you realized you had been digging in his chest like a crow on a rotting corpse before you covered your mouth with a soft, inaudible gasp.

“ive been blabbering…” you say, shyly laughing as you continued the last of what was left on your plate.

“no.” he responded, his voice trickling like soothing raindrops against a windowsill, “you’re just curious.”

“that i am.” your eyebrows raising as you sipped the bitter red liquid of your wine, “but you’ve had enough.”

he shook his head, wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin as he gulped, “i enjoy the conversation. i just have a lot in my past im not too fond of is all.” you noticed his eyes again… that troublesome look… the blank stare. whatever happened seemed to had never left him. james was like a puzzle piece… all scattered… some pieces missing so the full picture could never be seen or even admired.

“don’t we all…” pursing your lips as you set your glass down, “…but that’s the beauty of life, yes? it’s shitty… things come and go. regret… wrapped in solace. but that only means you can make happier memories.” trying to be positive to remove anything he had stored in thought.

you saw his shoulders relax from its usual tension, his eyes finding their way towards yours with a thick silence being transferred between you two. “yeah.” he spoke, breaking the silence momentarily before it fell back. the white noise… the gentle buzz cradled your eardrums, sitting like a stone in both of your seats.

the contact between your eyes spoke a million words… ones that haven’t been spoken out loud— it was of interest, undeniable lust. from his constant gaze from when you once were strangers… his usual order of coffee, to the moments you spent together in numerous places to now. those pretty light eyes shook as they bounced from each part of what your body showed at the table. they were quick… hungry… without any hesitancy. he dared not to look away, enjoying the visual of your being in a place with no one around, just you both.

as for you… the feeling of his eyes felt like fire caressing your skin… as if his wherever his pupils directed themselves, you could feel. it felt like fingertips gliding underneath the fabric of your clothes… just as when he ate… the way his lips latched onto the silver of his fork— the unintentional sensual gesture as he slid it from his mouth and chewed. the coat of spit that was left across it, and the delicate way he held onto the spine of the wine glass. you wanted to replace the flavor of your homemade sauce with the flower of your labia… to feel the latch of his lips against your breast or on the sides of your neck. the way he ate gave you an intense feeling of need… greed… swelling indulgence. not to mention his goddamn voice… the voice you were already so found over— the subtle cracks and dips between certain vowels… how deep it was… how gentle it felt amongst the silence.

“james..?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly, almost in a trance by the tone of your voice.

he gulped roughly, already sensing whatever you were going to say by the look you gave. “yes?”

“may i kiss you?” the words flowing softly within a sigh, holding your breath as you waited for his answer.

he just stared at you, eyes blinking like a cat in comfort as he continued to stare. moments past… which felt like hours before he nodded.

you stood from your seat, his attentiveness not failing to follow you in whichever way you went, slowly walking towards him with your hand sliding against the rough stubble on his face. he exhaled through his nose, his eyes shutting closed, his body melting into your touch as if he longed for such embrace. he hummed… the vibration flickering against the tips of your fingers before you felt the warm air of his exhale against your lips. slowly you leaned, shaky breaths with a soft press of the lips.

his lips were so soft yet stiff, a long press, occupying the other side of his face with yet another hand, pulling his face closer to yours as you deepened it. james let you lead, his rough calloused hand grazing against your wrist with a gentle grip, simultaneously pulling you closer to his embrace.

at the touch of his lips, you felt yourself get jolted with pleasure in between your legs, the softness rushing to a hungered one— his lips opening, allowing your tongue to push through and taste the sweetness of his of spit. his mouth was warm and the muscle of his tongue slid into yours as spit started to slide down his chin… quickening breaths and an even louder hum than he ever gave.

with the sharp sound of the chair scraping against the floorboards, he scooted back, you unconsciously sitting onto his lap just to feel the growing bulge against his work pants. you sat right on it, feeling it press against your clothed cunt with a groan that wrapped around your tongue and down your throat. he felt big, and the throb of it excited you, having your hips think on its own with a heavy yet slow rut.

the hands that held onto your wrist fell at your hips, the tightness of his fingers digging into you as if he’d never want you to leave from his touch. your bodies molded into one, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest with your hands now gripping the back of his neck.

at release, your forehead pressed against his… his deep gasps sounding pathetic and irregular, lips ajar, trying to savor the feeling of your lips that were once on his. the creek of the chair upon your slow grinds were loud and obnoxious but that didn’t stop you from adding on more friction, loving the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

“let me… do what i want to you… let me make you feel good.” you whispered against his lips, feeling your words being sucked from his quickening gasps.

“please.” he whined… a sound you’d never heard before from a man, let alone one of business. his willingness in the subtle acceptance of him submitting to you had your mind fill with haze. the glisten of his eyes pleaded for something… anything… like he had never been touched before. “please…”

his face leaned in the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against the warmth of your skin, sharp inhales, devouring the perfume that coated it. light peppering kisses lining up and down, all along the side of your jaw. a smile crept up on your lips… you knew just from the sight of him that he was just a pathetic little thing. and with the way he acted just from a kiss… how hard he got with you sitting on his lap, you knew that whatever you did he’d grant you a reaction that would be better than any man has ever gave you or will give you.

you gripped the back of his head, a drunken stare as his lips still purse from the abrupt release of his kiss. “wait.” you breathed, pressing your finger in the center of his lips. he was so tantalizing… his eyes drooped with anticipation, knowing that since he has you now… his self control was little to none.

at the side of you finger, he kissed it, holding onto your wrist as you placed another finger against his lips. you watched and he watched you— his mouth slowly opening and guiding his fingers against his tongue. with hallowed cheeks he began to suck, bobbing his cute head down to the knuckle. curling your fingers, you felt his tongue slither in between, spit messily sliding down your palm and arm.

“good boy..” you praised, your voice in sync with the sounds of his sucks— a deeper whine trembling against your fingers at the sudden pet name.

you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at his reaction. he liked that? you thought. seems fitting.

sliding your fingers from his mouth, you gripped his chin, a gentle press given, “watch me.” you whisper and with a pull at your top, he watched. his eyes directing themselves at your breasts with an even quicker and excited exhale exuding from his whining lips. eyebrows furrowing at the need to touch, his hands hesitantly removing from your hips and curling, waiting for the okay to be able to grope them upon your request. unclasping your bra, they drooped prettily in his face, letting whatever you took off hit the floor beside the chair.

“come on pretty boy… touch them.” you slurred, your voice seductive, teasing him, watching how his eyes never left, just opening at the sight of your bare breasts. “i know you want to.”

he sighed, one that was pent up and riddled with eagerness. “oh my god…” his voice shook. james was driven by the lustrous nature of your body. captivating by the sounds that fell from your lips and the commands you spewed— each word directed itself at his cock, feeling it twitch and tighten at his pants. the way you were entranced by his eyes as he was with yours, looking up at them with admiration, need and desire that festered throughout his body, making him burn at the touch.

doe and gentle with a sweet song flowing in the disguise of a moan he sung. the single free strands laying against his skin, complimenting with the reds that blossomed at his cheeks.

‘i want her… i need her… all of her… i want it. i want it. i want it. i want it.’ he chanted in his brain— feeling as if he was going to pass out at how hard he was breathing— his hot mouth curling at the warm bud of your breast, tongue flicking at it’s hardened tip, pulling back with the gentle graze of his teeth until a pop was heard, pressing a series of kisses around your breasts.

you were drunk off the man. that poor pathetic odd man. his body calling for more… groping your breasts with vigor, feeling the shortness of his nails digging and molding them to his liking… and the little broken noises he made, so soft and sweet, higher than his usual tone. a fleeting glint of mischief glistened in your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“that’s it…” your voice trailed, lifting your hips, starting to bounce on his lap, granting a broken moan to feather against your nipple.

“god… fucking dammit..” he exhaled, gritting his teeth as his body sunk into the chair, his feet planted harsher on the floorboards, bucking his hips upward, feeling the weight of you created more friction, his swelling cock pulsating. “don’t stop… please.” he whined, eyes squinted as drool fell from the side of his trembling lips.

your hands running in his warm blonde strands, “that’s a good boy.” you tightened your gasp, pulling it with a yank. he blinked slowly with a coo, “you like it when i bounce on it?” you teased.

he nods. his poor hips already tiring out, them stuttering at every upwards thrust. “yes ma’am… fuck it feels… it feels so good.”

planting your hands at his chest, you felt the fast pace of his heart, running your palms up his body until your fingers wrapped around his slender neck— each digit falling into his skin, hearing his strain. “poor baby… you wanna feel more don’t you?” you grunted, his head tilted back with your face hovering his. with a slight cock of your hand, it collided with the softness of his cheek, a loud yelping moan bouncing along the dining room walls.

“fu… fuck…” he stuttered, his lips almost at pout.

no woman had ever treated him this way, so rough and teasing and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. his nerves was heightened as his cheek burned with the faint remnants of your palm. never did he think he’d enjoy something like this, in fact… he was left speechless. the sight of his eyes looking more pleasing than they already looked. they never looked away from you, wanting to get every expression you gave… watching your lips as they continued to taunt him, needing to see the way your breasts bounced as you continued to rut against his lap above his pants.

“oh?” you chirped, noticing the deepening submission in his glare. “you liked that didn’t you?” your hips now stopping in its place.

weakly, he laughed, “i do.” his voice still so sultry and deep.

leaning closer to his face, your lips feathered his, exchanging breaths with shared smiles, “go on your knees and take it out for me.” your other hand sliding down slow until it cupped his bulge. removing yourself from his lap, now standing.

he lifted himself off the chair, taking off his bottoms and boxers. there he sat, like an obedient little thing, on his knees— his thick dick laying and jerking at every throb as it laid so delicately against his thigh— staring up at you adoringly with gleaming eyes, as if he had been admiring a star.

it wasn’t as if you necessarily thought about what he looked like underneath his boxers, but the sight of it made your eyes sparkle— it was so thick and long, it made your mouth water.

“james…” shocked and even more turned on at how pretty his dick was. the light graze of his brown pubes looking well kept. “fuck it’s so pretty.” running your finger down its side, hearing the most pathetic moan fall from his lips— his fists balling at the sudden touch. “needy little thing you are.”

it was cute. from the little slap you gave him and the way he wanted you to have your way, it only fed into the desire to treat this boy with some excitement. that dull life he had was now changed as thoughts puddled at your brain seeing this man look so weak as you stood to look at him.

“such a pathetic… pretty man.” you cooed, tilting your head, “and look at your dick.” his eyes dropping to watch it leak and pool at the flesh of his thigh. “it’s excited for me isn’t it?”

his fingers wrapping around his shaft, needing some type of friction… it was starting to get painful with how long it hadn’t been touched bare. whenever he was turned on in the comfort of his home, he’d jerk himself off until he fell asleep. over and over again until his wrist burned and his throat dried. he had no self control and with you around, he could cum just from your voice.

“take your hand off.”

“god i just…” he whimpered.

“mmh mmh.” your head shook, as you bent down, “hands off. i tell you when you can and can’t, do you understand?” placing your finger underneath his chin to raise it, seeing gentle plea in his eyes.

“yes ma’am.”

he felt belittled, unable to control his own person. a quick shiver fell down his spine, leaning closer into your embrace… just the soft touch of your finger gave him a bolt of pleasure. knowing if he touched himself, you’d slap him in retaliation. oh how he so desperately wanted that.

you unzipped your pants, stepping out from them, alongside your panties, already dripping against the inner of your thigh. placing a palm at the top of his head, your fingers gripped tight, angling yourself in front of his face.

he gulped roughly, staring at the swelling of your clit. “lick it.” without hesitation, his face fell in between your legs, his curved nose nudging against your clit as he inhaled, lapping his tongue in between the folds of your pussy.

the scent of it drove him wild— eyes rolling back as he continued to inhale, loud enough for you to hear. he smothered himself, the muscle of his tongue thickening with his lips latching it just to get the taste of you fully.

you were taken aback at how skilled his tongue was, how his nose stimulated your clit so lovingly with each bob of his head. obnoxious sucks radiated in the air with his fingers clasping against your thighs, hard enough to hurt.

moans trickled from your throat, gasping on the thick of the air, guiding him with the hand that gripped his hair. his tongue plunged deeply into your pussy, feeling his mold his muscle inside of your fleshy walls, thrusting his head to fuck your opening.

you felt yourself already needing to cum and that has never happened before. at least not this quick. the softness of his lips sucked so roughly and his tongue flicked so fast, your knees buckled inward, unable to keep up with the pace of his mouth.

“james…” your moans heightening in volume, your chest deepening after every breath you took, “your fucking mouth…”

his hair, all tattered and messy, with his eyes reddened from it almost tearing up because of the lack of air he was given, not stopping for a second as he drank in your arousal and your moans. a tingling sensation bounced off his body, circling through each part of his limbs.

the sounds of his sucks almost overpowering your moans itself, as he felt your meaty pussy flutter in and out his mouth loving how full you made his mouth.

“i can’t stop,” he gasped against your cunt, “it’s just so good… i love it, i fucking love it. fuck… fuck…” nothing in this man’s brain could made him stop. it was like he pushed himself in between your legs like he wanted to be apart of you— keeping his strength in his neck to keep his same motion.

removing himself to breathe, he gathered spit, directing at your clit and watching it drip before catching it in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the hood of your clit before latching on with hallowing cheeks. sucking in air, your body curled forward, feeling two of his fingers slide in the opening of your pussy. they curved as they started with long strides.

that ‘odd’ man surely knew how to please a cunt. fingers picking up its pace with the loud wet sounds interweaving the moans you both sung. “yes… yes… james…” you panted, his wrist steadying, feeling you leak against and down his knuckles. your walls clamping on his fingers like a heartbeat.

“im gonna..” you announced, your body trembling more than you could even control, your legs giving out with him quickly holding you up as much as he could— his face deepening in your cunt, grunting as he felt you cum against his tongue.

“mmmhm” he hummed over and over again, feeling you shudder against his face.

falling to your knees, your face was angled with his— his mouth wet all from his nose down to his chin. the sight of you, trying to compose yourself from the orgasm you had made him feel dizzy. “feel good?” he whispered, trailing your face from where it hung low, catching your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips, running your tongue at the flesh of his bottom, sucking it in your mouth with small nips before pulling back.

forming spit in your mouth, you held onto his cock, an immediate grunt rupturing from his throat, letting the spit falling down at his tip. brushing your thumb over it, lathering your spit down to his shaft.

“tighter… please…” he mumbled, foreheads now pressing as he watched your hand wrap around his throbbing and slightly veiny shaft, rolling your wrist in circular and jagged movements. tighter you held, hearing the sound of his throaty moans.

“like this?” you breath, quickening your pace. he deserved it.

lifting the bottom of his shirt, he placed the cloth in his mouth, seeing the light spread of hair that tracked up his navel and a hollowing abdomen at every whine he let out. “yes..” he gritted through his teeth.

his precum swaying around from the vigorous speed that continued to grow. he held his breath, brows knitted, body tense at the rhythmic pattern, veins channeling on your forearm with your fingers glazing against the underside of his tip. “look at me.” you whispered, his eyes slowly traveled up your body until they locked with yours.

you spoke of lust in both your gazes, hearing the wetness of his spit coated cock at every pump, hunger radiating in you both like you desperately needed this— shameless and passionate intimacy.

your body yearned to feel him inside and the way he stared at you— the burning sensation it brought you— made it difficult for you. you wanted to feel him stretch your cunt. pushing him back by the press of your palm against your shoulder, he lay. hovering over him, wrapping your leg over his waist before angling yourself over him.

slowly you slid down on him, never feeling something as big as his. even just from the tip, you felt yourself gasp heavily as you kept lowering yourself down onto him. “fuck you’re so… big…”

james continued his whines, eyes closing tight, his body shuttered… you were so warm, your fleshy walls holding him so comfortably. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body with his hands— sliding against your thighs, up your waist and momentarily on your breasts.

“you….” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, with you pushing more of him into you— textured and wet, with a heartbeat that cradled the shaft of his cock. “your pussy is sucking me in…” he groaned, his ass tensing.

all of you. the sight of it all, each movement you made. fuck, didn’t you drive him insane. at this moment, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

your pussy gripped his cock, deeper it went, as if your grip was unable to let him go. each moan you let out, your pussy clammed and mimicked each word as it pulsated against him.

he couldn’t stay still, whimpering as you started to lightly bounce against him— hands planted on his chest with a slight roll of your hips. you couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of you, how full he made you. with you already cumming, it was hard to keep yourself steady, feeling yourself break down each time you lowered yourself.

pressing his hand on your back, he turned you both, now with you on your back laid against the floor, “let me pleasure you… please.” he begged, both hands placed on the sides of your head.

“fuck me like the good boy you are…”

and with that, it was as if a switch had been turned on in his brain. using one hand to grasp your thigh, “like this?” he breathed, his words as slow as his thrusts, his drowsy-like eyes running up against your face. gritting his teeth, sucking on the cool yet hot air, eyebrows knitting together. he placed his forehead against yours, your hand now sliding up to his neck— the pads of your fingers and thumb pressing down the sides of it, slowly tightening your grip. with struggling breaths, his hips continuing his rhythmic thrust yet trying to find the spot, the spot that will lead you into ecstasy.

the hand that held your thigh pressed it down further, his knees fixing itself at a better position, now his groin aiming downwards. his thrust now falling into slow, hungry pounds, his balls hitting just above your asshole. “does it feel good here…?” leaning down as he pressed wet kisses at the edge of your lips.

all you could give were responding moans, your body overstimulated by every movement he made.

each inward thrust, you could hear skin slapping against one another, your breasts mashing into each other. lips trailing down to your cheek, then to your ear, his tongue running at the side of your ear then switching to the next, groaning a series of ‘fucks’ and your name as the thrust started to increase in intensity. they were once slow, now holding more power, grunting at each inward hit. “god. your… pussy… feels… so…. soo fucking… so goood…” each word ending in a hitch.

his voice now holding a deeper, grosser tone, more animalistic as he grew pussy drunk at how you wrapped around him.

he enveloped your lips, inhaling and capturing your tongue in his mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing his head and swallowing any ounce of spit that rolled down to the back of his throat. your tongue slipped from his mouth, pressing a long kiss against his lips once more.

your mind transversed across what could possible be the gates of fucking heaven at this point. each twist and turn of his hips hitting spots your fingers could possible never do, your damp walls clamping around his girthy cock—greedily needing to paint your insides with his cum, over and over again if he could.

"it feels good, it's so good...." you trailed off, lips pressing together as you muffled a few moans of satisfaction that sounded nearly like his name—the tip of his relentless cock hitting sweet, sweet spots with each charging pound. your hands removing themselves, now dragging and scratching into his back, tugging the flesh leaving continuous marks onto his skin— causing him to wince in blissful pain.

the reverberating sounds of your name rolling off his tongue along with the desperate whines and groans of pleasure only elevated your lust "you're obsessed with my pussy," you whined, head thrown back at the intense plunges against your favored spot.

your promiscuous ways dragging him down in the mud, wanting to rut and fuck you like an untrained animal. that alluring voice of yours, cracking into a moan after you tried so desperately to tease him.

your concaving walls collapsing at his cock, walls with a flowery texture that ran against the pulsating veins of his dick. your wails rushing to his dick alongside your suction— with each inhale making its grasp tighter than before. your folds clasping at the sides of his shaft at every pull.

he place a thumb so kindly pressed at your slippery clit. circling it slow, with rougher presses at each thrust, it’s hood pushing back, feeling your wet, exposed bud nudge at the skin of his thumb. each run around, he could hear it, how your slick found it’s way all the way to your clit, making it harder for his thumb to be held in place.

his body loosened, with his hips now controlled, it’s speed rising with a longer pull and harder pound, body muggy with a thin layer of sweat, with your face buried in the inner corner of his neck.

“i don’t ever want to stop fucking you… your pussy is too good.” his voice ridged and strained.

rhythmical slaps of wet skin colliding as his balls felt a sharp sensation each time it bounced against the sweetness of your hole. your pussy’s heartbeat causing his eyes to roll, holding his breath and letting it out shakily.

“fuck me just like that james… just like that.” your eyes widening with your legs wrapping around his waist. “im close!”

“i don’t want to stop fucking you… i wish i could fuck you nonstop… i want to keep going…” his chest madly rattling against his ribcage.

shivers cascading through your arms as they gripped his hair firmly once again. your beings were joined in such an impassioned, fervid act of lustful ignited bursting flames out of your bodies. “can i..." he breathed out, voice hoarse, “can i breed you… please… please..”

the walls echoed sounds of your repeated pleasure lamentations followed by his needy words and melting into the increasing melody of skin against skin, lead you over the hill, "cum inside! do it baby…" you uttered directly into his eyes, the familiar knot forming at the pit of your abdomen, convusling cunt tightening around his sliding shaft with each thrust.

he couldn’t stop himself, feeling you cum on his cock made him bury himself further inside, hot spurts of his own cum filling you with rolling eyes and harsh gasps. glazed spit lips, bodies trembling from their high, and strained moans.

his arms snake around your body, cum oozing down his balls and thigh. “fuck….” his body not even finished with his high, slow thrust to chase after the leftover high you both breathed out.

“god james… who wouldn’t known you fucked so well…”

laid out on the floor, you both tried to catch your breaths. the contrast between every moment of you knowing one another to now, fucking each other like your life depended on it, you couldn’t help but laugh.

how significant is it to have a simple man— attractive at that— with his usual order of black coffee in your house, fucking you without a care in the world.

you knew… this wouldn’t be the last time.

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