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borathae · 8 months ago

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↳ Index [Day 31 - Werewolves]

Pairing: Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, werewolf!AU

Warnings: Kook is kinda cold at first, it is implied that OC gets sold into a forced marriage where she will be tortured and assaulted (not to Kook but a villain character hahaha), yeah...her future is not looking good, or is it?, Koo might have a plan :----)

Kinks: the trope of "just the tip" and "we shouldn't be doing this", yeah besties i went there, sex in a shed in the forest, sex by the bonfire, nudity, naked cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, he is bigger and stronger than her, size & muscle & strength kink, he pins her down, fuck i'm literally so small when it comes to him like bro please i have so many thots, hahah sorry i'm really into him haahah, he pins her wrists & puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, huge werwolf dick, knotting, multiple orgasms for both, "just the tip" in spooning position, clit massages, rough penetrative sex in pronebone & doggy style, he has her in a headlock at one point, breeding for the sake of scent marking her, so much fucking cum oh lord, dirty talk, he has fangs, he bites her shoulder, he growls, what if i was weak?? what then??, tears, eye contact, this is emotional & has plot and i wanna write more about them, cuddly & safe aftercare, the plot in this is so good omfg

Wordcount: 11.5k

a/n: Click here if you wanna see his dick. I have zero (0) Z E R O knowledge of the workings of the omegaverse. i know that there’s alphas and betas and omegas but that’s it. and that there is heat and knots and slick and scenting(?) but how the dynamics work or what ABO each means? no clue. so if this is inaccurate, bear with me and let's see it as my interpretation of werwolves instead. Okay? Okay. Jjssjjs i also added this idea to the mix ps: i actually don't wanna talk about this, i need to recover first BRO GOODBYE this was kinktober 2024 besties FJJDF what a way to end it tbfh

The storm caught you by surprise. You wouldn’t particularly mind it if it wasn’t for the company you have to keep.

Jeon Jungkook. A stubborn, self-centred peacock of a man who thinks he is something just because he is the son of the alpha.

Now, to perhaps understand the situation a little better, one might need what the literary world calls backstory.

You lived in a small mountain town far away from any big human city. The town was surrounded by high walls and visitors rarely found their way to it. It was wanted by the townspeople because you weren’t particularly human. Most humans would call you demons, but you like to call yourselves werewolves. You lived in a pack and the town was your lair.

You can be human but also turn into a wolf by choice. Some choose to keep some of their wolfish features such as their golden eyes or sharp fangs, while others looked entirely human when they walked on two legs.

Jeon Jungkook was the son of the pack alpha and therefore heir of the title. His mother was an alpha as well, which naturally gave him the alpha gen. He was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the pack and he had control over his body during the full moon. He never hid his fangs and showed his golden eyes whenever he was provoked. He earned his pack tattoos when he was twelve after killing three enemy wolves and when he turned eighteen, he earned the pack piercings after fulfilling the maturity rituals within a day. Something only his father managed to do before him.

Ever since that day, Jungkook became even more obnoxious and unlikable than he already was.

You weren’t so lucky. Born as an omega into a normal family with normal siblings in a normal house, your life has been pretty…normal. You are the same age as Jungkook, which naturally made you go to the same classes from elementary to high school. And throughout your academic career, you never learned to like him.

He was an alpha while you were an omega. You were the only one like this from your family, but they never treated you differently. You were a beloved and cherished family member and therefore lived a normal life until your older brother made a mistake and you had to carry the consequences.

He killed the promised omega wife of the enemy’s alpha’s son. The warring alpha wanted to slaughter the entire town at first, but Jungkook’s father persuaded him to take revenge another way. Take one of the village’s omegas and marry her to his son. “She will be complacent and quiet. Once she is married, she will be your property. You can take out your anger on her.” So Jungkook’s father told him and the enemy alpha agreed happily. One night later, you were dragged from your home with no way to escape your future. You were born this way, it wasn’t your fault and now it would be your death sentence. You cursed your brother that night who begged to be taken in your stead. You told him to choke on it. It was the last thing you said to him and probably will ever say to him. You already started to regret it.

Jungkook was ordered to make sure that you would arrive at the enemy village safe and sound. It has been three days ever since that night and all your hatred for anyone and anything has been directed solely at him.

“The rain’s annoying me. Let’s take shelter”, Jungkook says dryly.

“No.”

Jungkook glares at you.

“Yes”, he hisses, grabbing your arm by your elbow to drag you to a shed nearby. “I’m not gonna walk in the rain. Besides, it’s late. We need to rest.”

“Let go of me”, you protest, stumbling after him. There isn’t much that you can do. He is stronger and bigger and because of his status, he naturally has almost instinctive control over your actions. You could fight against these instincts, but it’s a lot easier not to.

“Would you rather get sick in the rain?”

“Maybe, yes. Maybe I’ll get sick enough to die. At least like this, I won’t be sold into torture”, you spit, ripping yourself free from his grasp. Again, all your hatred and anger is directed towards him, so it is easy to fight your instincts right now.

Jungkook gawks at you in surprise.

“I mean it”, you insist.

He frowns. He steps close and lifts you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Let me down, you fuck!” you yell, flashing your fangs and kicking around you.

Jungkook merely shoulders you better and walks, frowning deeply.

“You brought this onto yourself.”

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You big, smelling piece of shit.”

Jungkook kicks the shed open and drops you. You stumble in surprise, but catch yourself pretty quickly. You and he are mere inches away, sharing air. The constant lighting cutting the sky illuminates your angry faces. You and Jungkook have your golden eyes out and show off your fangs. Your bodies are steaming as your increased body heats dry the water.

“I’m gonna let it slip because we were classmates, but insult me again and I will make you be quiet. Understood?” he gnarls.

You step closer, making him taste your words.

“Go kiss my ass.”

You turn your back to him and stomp further into the shed.

The shed wasn’t much bigger than ten square meters. There were tools on each wall and some tools scattered around the ground. Clearly it was meant as storage for woodworkers. One corner had neat stacks of wood and on a table, some blankets were stacked in case some of the workers needed to stay the night.

“Great. That’s luxury, isn’t it?” you grumble.

The door slams closed behind you, making you flinch. You don’t look however, wanting to appear stronger than you feel. In truth, you are scared and alone and heartbroken. You are frightened. You are sad. You are afraid. You are helpless and hopeless. And you are only a little bit angry. As you walked, you couldn’t stop crying. You were happy for the rain because it masked the constant tears running down your face and you were happy for the loud thunder masking your sobs.

You are being sold like property to a man who will torture you for sports. All you want is to be home and to be held and to have someone pay for your fucking therapy because, goddamn, you are going to need a hell lot of therapy if you should survive this.

Jungkook is the last person you want to be with right now. He lacks empathy and kindness and has a tendency to impulsive anger. You are waiting for him to hurt you after slamming the door, frozen on the spot.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, he swerves past you to get firewood. You can only watch him, frozen like a scared little girl despite having long moved past your second decade on this cruel earth.

Jungkook uses his claws to ignite the fire by scratching them over a stone. He blows into the amber until it forms flames, then he stands up. He hooks his fingers in his shirt and takes it off.

You gasp and look away. You don’t know what he is going to do but it scares you. Is he going to test you out now? Make sure that the alpha is going to get a good delivery?

“Relax. I need to dry my clothes and I can’t do that on my body. I’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook scoffs and starts unbuckling his belt. You watch his tattooed fingers work. He is wearing heavy silver rings on them. Yep, your people can handle silver without pain. It’s only a myth that it hurts you. Just as garlic being lethal for vampires is a myth. Humans like to tell these tales to sleep better at night.

Jungkook begins taking off his pants, meeting your gawking eyes.

“Stop staring and bring the blankets instead.”

“Oh, uhm. Sorry.”

You instinctively obey.

“Make a bed by the fire. Away from the door.”

You obey again.

Afterwards you lift your head, having to gasp and stare. What? Stare? Why can’t you look away?

He is completely naked, currently hanging up his clothes on a chair. You should want to look away but you can’t. His body is sculpted, his muscles well defined. He currently has his back turned to you. It is so big and broad, contrasting against his small waist. Shit, his legs and butt are so big and sculpted in comparison to it. His back is covered scars. Slashes, bite marks, cuts. Some seem to have dug very deep when fresh.

“Just spit it out”, Jungkook hisses, rolling his shoulders which makes his back muscles shift and flex.

“What?”

“I can feel you staring. Just say what you wanna say.”

“Your back. It’s covered in scars.”

Jungkook touches his own back, tracing the scars he can reach.

“I guess it is.”

“Who did this to you?”

“Too many people to count.”

“What happened to them?”

“The fact that I’m still here and they’re not, should be answer enough. Shouldn’t it?”

You gulp.

Jungkook turns.

You gulp even harder. Look away! You know that no matter how hard you beg your eyes, they won’t look away. It is like they are enchanted.

His pecs are big, clearly sculpted and strong. His stomach is defined, carrying scars as well. But what truly catches your eyes is his cock. Sitting under a dark, masculine bush of pubes, it glistens in the shine of the fire. It is big, even soft, a little tanner than the rest of his skin and sitting against a pair of big, plumb balls made for breeding. So this is what the cock of an alpha looks like. The effect it has on you is embarrassing. You feel slick build up in your holes and saliva collect in your mouth.

“Quit your staring. It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.”

You shake out of your trance, looking away in embarrassment. Your face feels on fire. Holy fuck, what is wrong with you?

“You have seen dick before, right? Weren’t you and Tae a thing in high school?” he talks as he gets under the blanket.

“Uh, yeah, uh. We were.”

“And knowing Tae, he fucked you. Didn’t he?”

You turn away in embarrassment, rubbing the side of your neck. Of course he did, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that.

He figures it out instantly however, glancing at your middle when you aren’t looking. Just for a second, nothing more.

“So stop being weird about it”, he says and lies down.

You shrink. Jungkook studies you. You are trembling in your wet, cold clothes. He pities you.

“Get naked and hang your clothes up to dry”, he orders.

You want to move in obedience at first, but then stop. You are too scared to obey instinctively.

“No. Close your eyes.”

Jungkook groans and closes his eyes.

“You’re so stuck up. You should practice being naked in front of other people. I heard that Alpha Urquard likes for his pack to watch wedding nights.”

You bite down tears. Great. Not only will you be assaulted, it will happen in front of god knows how many people. What if you just throw yourself onto one of the sharp tools? It would be a bitch way to go, but it’s better than what will happen to you.

You ogle the pitchfork. Maybe you could do it. Maybe.

“Hey!”

You snap out of it. You whip around, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Hurry up and come here.”

“What?”

“Come here. It’s better than over there.”

You ogle the pitchfork then his darkened face. Did he figure you out?

“I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get out of your wet clothes and come to me.”

“Ple-please close your eyes.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat and obeys. With shaking fingers, you get naked. With trembling knees, you walk to his side. With weak muscles, you get under the blanket next to him. There is only one blanket and you try your fucking hardest not to touch his body in any kind of way. He left you the spot closer by the fire so you were warmer and he could oversee the door.

Jungkook, who senses your presence, opens his eyes. He studies your face, then your body. You have the blanket pulled up to your neck, shivering uncontrollably. Even now, you seem plagued by the cold.

He furrows his brows in distaste and closes the distance. He manages to put his arm around you before your quiet beg freezes him.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

He moves away, studying you in shock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers are trembling as you grasp the blanket.

“Why would I hurt you?”

The honest confusion in his voice forces you to open your eyes.

The fire casts deep shadows into his face as much as it illuminates other parts of it. His wet hair is drying slowly, sticking to his wrinkled forehead. He is furrowing his brows which explains the wrinkles.

“Why would I hurt you?” he repeats his question with more urgency.

“I don’t know.”

“I was ordered to make sure that you arrive unharmed to Urquard. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Please don’t?”

“Don’t make sure that I arrive safely.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise. Such vulnerability isn’t what he expected from the once feisty, rude woman of before. You are tiny in fear, trembling uncontrollably and begging him with greyed, hopeless eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gonna be an alpha’s wife. That’s every omega’s dream”, he snarls, sounding weirdly jealous.

You burst into tears instantly, turning your back to him as you curl into a small ball. You wail loudly, unable to pretend any longer. You don’t want to be married off. You don’t want it.

“No, uh… stop crying. I, I’m ordering you to stop crying”, he panics, hissing his words which only makes you cry harder.

He stares for a while, fumbling with his words. In the end he doesn’t know what to say, turning off his brain to speak from his heart instead.

“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay”, he says softly, rubbing your shoulder.

His touch is tender and soothing. You sob despite it or perhaps because of it. It feels so weird to receive because it is nice.

“Hey, it’s okay”, he tells you, draping his arm over you. Like this, your bodies are touching under the blanket. He feels so warm against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not gonna be okay. I’m being sold like a pig to a man who likes to watch his daughters in law get raped in front of the entire pack and who will use every second of his life to torture me.” You shrink into yourself. “I just wanna die. I’m so scared.”

“Hey no, don’t say that. Don’t be scared, I’m here.”

“I heard that Urquard killed his first wife by ramming a medal hook into her stomach and hanging her like this. All because she couldn’t give him a child with the alpha gen. Please just kill me, please.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___.”

The last time Jungkook said your name, you and he were both eleven and played adventurers in the forest. He celebrated his twelfth birthday two weeks later and another two weeks later, he killed those three wolves and got his tattoos. He stopped playing with you and stopped saying your name. Quite frankly, he stopped playing with any children since that day, saying stuff like “a man wouldn’t play stupid stuff” or “my father says that it’s weak to play” and he became quiet and distant. Maybe he became sadder as well and lonelier.

Your name from his tongue after almost fifteen years forces you to turn in his arms. For just a second, the same innocent and playful boy looks back at you before you blink and come back to reality. His features and eyes are still the same shape and colour but he seemed to have grown into them. His left cheek carries a scar these days and his brows are furrowed more than they are relaxed.

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___. And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself either.”

“So you would rather see me sold to a monster?” You squeeze out tears of anger and frustration. “I hate you so much. You sadistic, heartless piece of shit.”

Jungkook frowns deeper.

“You alphas are all the same. You think just because you are stronger than the rest of us, you can push us around like cattle. We aren’t cattle. We are people, we live normal and good lives. We are nothing special but that’s good. We’re boring and mundane but we love deeply. Unlike you disgusting, selfish alphas who see us as nothing but merchandise.”

“Are you done now?”

“I’ve only started. You are heartless, selfish, self-absorbed, apathetic and a snob. At the spot where your heart once was, a rotten piece of coal is sitting and when you talk, plants die out of spite.”

“Anything else you like to add?”

“You are the worst person to ever exist. You are elitist and stubborn and way too obsessed with status. And you…” Your eyes fill with tears. “...you broke my heart before I even knew what heartbreak was.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken in an unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? Regret? More anger?

“We did everything together until one day, you decided that I wasn’t good enough anymore. For fuck’s sake, we were twelve and you acted like I was embarrassing for doing stuff kids our age were allowed to do.”

“You think that I had a choice?” He finally speaks up and you get a feeling that it was your turn to listen. “I stopped being a kid in my father’s eyes the day I killed those wolves. I didn’t wanna push you away, but father made me.”

“What?”

“I became his heir that day, I sealed my fucking fate. I had to stop playing a-and doing kid’s stuff. He forced me to train day in and out. I had to be the perfect man. I was twelve, for fuck’s sake. I was a fucking kid who wanted to play adventurers in the forest with, with his….with his best friend.”

The silence which follows after his confession is deafening. Fifteen years of hating him. Fifteen years of thinking that he hated you. And all this time, he only acted like this because his father made him. You meet his emotional eyes, feeling emotional yourself.

“I was your best friend?” you whisper.

He nods his head, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“I miss you, ___”, he presses out.

You feel lost for words. You are so shaken in fact that you can’t even find it in you to cry. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of hating him for what he did and wishing for an apology you thought would never come and here it is. His confession. His apology.

“It’s been fifteen years and I still do. I miss you and I’m sorry.” He cups your face, wiping away the remnants of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You stare. And stare. And stare.

“Please say something”, he whispers.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just anything, please.”

“You’re the most selfish piece of shit I have ever seen.”

Jungkook’s face falls in shock. His eyes show how much your words hurt him.

“Why tell me your stupid apology now? Why confess to me now? Knowing that I will be sold into a life of sex slavery and torture?” You hit his chest. “Why tell me now when you literally deliver me to my fucking death? You piece of shit, you’re selfish and cruel and I want you dead.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You and your entire family and the rest of the pack. Die. All of you just die.”

You hit him with more vigour. More and more and more.

“Enough”, he stops you, pinning your wrists into the ground and with it, rendering you helpless, “stop hitting me, please.”

You spit at his face.

Jungkook flinches back. He sits up and wipes it away.

“What the fuck? You spat at me. Why would you do that?”

“Go to hell and shove your sappy confession up your sadistic ass”, you hiss. You feel no ounce of remorse for what you did.

Jungkook wipes your spit into the blanket and moves quickly. He puts your wrists together and pins them above your head. Before you can spit again, he puts his other hand over your mouth, rending your legs useless as well by slinging one of his muscular legs over yours.

There is no fabric between your bodies. You are skin against skin. Raw and naked and hot. You can feel his dick against you and you know that he can feel your tits against his arm. You are rendered useless, vulnerable to whatever he plans to do to you now that spat at him. You are scared, but you are also droopy. It is that same droopiness you felt when you looked at his naked body. Except stronger and more unbearable. You are hotter and there is slick gathering in your holes. You can barely breathe, but maybe this is because of his hand over your mouth.

“Stop fighting me and listen”, Jungkook talks with his lips close to your face. You can’t stop staring at them. You fight him while your mind goes droopy at the sight of his lips moving. “You can either go to your new life or listen. Are you gonna listen?”

You nod your head.

“Good. I’m gonna pull my hand away now and you won’t spit at my face again. Promise?”

You nod hesitantly.

“Good. I trust your word.”

He pulls his hand away, keeping his arm around you. It lies exactly over your tits, rubbing against your nipples. You know for a fact that he is able to feel it. You curl your fingers, trying so hard not to get affected by his closeness. Or to make a sound for that matter.

“I said this stuff to you because I wanna make it right between us. Your brother fucked up, but what Urquard did in retaliation is crazy and what father allowed is insane. If you want me to, I won’t bring you to him.”

“What? But…your father promised.”

“I don’t care. It’s barbaric that omega trading is still a thing. You are right, you are people not cattle.”

“If he finds out that you refuse, he will disown you.”

“I have a plan for that.”

“Urquard will kill you.”

“That’s why I have a plan.”

“What plan?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“Just tell me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”

“The only way I can free you of this pact is if you get marked by another alpha. You’re unclaimed right now, but if you were to be marked by an alpha other than Urquard’s son, then the pact would be invalid.”

“What do you mean with marked?”

He hesitates.

“Tell me.”

“An alpha would have to put his dick into you.”

“So assault? I would have to be assaulted?”

“Not if you wanted it.”

“Huh?”

“Not if it’s with someone you trust. Someone who’s gonna be careful and gentle and who’s gonna make it nice for you.”

“And who should that be? Last time I checked, I’m not really friends with many…”

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s. He seems shy all of a sudden.

“Oh.”

You gasp for air.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s crazy. I thought of other ways. I’ve been plotting ever since we left town. That’s why I volunteered. To give us time, to give me time to think of something. I thought of lots of stuff, but they all ended in hypothetical death or enslavement of our pack. The only peaceful option was this.”

“You volunteered to bring me?”

He nods his head, “anyone else would have been too scared of or too loyal to my dad. I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“And you thought of this?”

“It’s the only way. We kill Urquard and his sons? Their pack comes after us. We run away? Their pack is gonna punish our pack. We kill everyone? Impossible we’d die and destine our pack to agony. It’s only death and pain u-unless you get marked by an alpha.”

“But I would have to be with you afterwards.”

“Only if you want to. We can pretend, make everyone think that it’s real. You wouldn’t have to be with me ever again.”

“Oh my god, this is insane.”

“I know. I’m sorry. The choice is yours. I promise.”

You study his face. You are still trapped under him, sharing heat. Skin against skin. arm against chest and cock against hip. He is semi hard by now, smearing slick on your skin. The fact that he is affected by this - by you - doesn’t make it easier to stay calm. You are glad for his leg over yours because it forces your legs to be closed and therefore hide the masses of slick having accumulated by now. His hair is still damp, hanging into his face messily. His fingers feel so strong and protective around your wrists. You swear that each time he breathes out and you inhale it, you feel high. You are so attracted to him right now.

Truth be told, you always thought that he was handsome beyond comparison. He has a mesmerizing aura and a captivating smile. His physique is your dream physique and his face often caught your attention in a crowd. You were utterly and insanely attracted to him which made your hatred for him grow deeper. He betrayed you, but he is still haunting your thoughts. It was unbearable until right now.

“I’m scared. I never did it with an alpha before”, you confess, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.

And Jungkook takes that vulnerability, cradling it in his safe palm just as he cradles your cheek the same way. His eyes softened, his voice did too.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle. I promise”, he almost whispers the words, tracing your brow and temple between cradling your cheek.

“I don’t know you like that.”

“Neither do I you. It’s gonna be a one time thing.”

“I’m scared. I’ve been scared ever since all of this started.”

“Don’t be. I’m here. I won’t let them touch you.”

“But you’ll touch me?” you ask in a whisper, lifting the inner corners of your brows.

Jungkook has a hard time staying calm when you look at him with such puppy eyes.

“If you let me, I will.”

You exhale shakily, squirming under him.

“I’m scared.”

He lets go of your wrists to cradle your other cheek. You lean into the touch, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. Your arms stay in their submissive position naturally.

“Just the tip. That’s all it takes. Just the tip for a few seconds so you take on my scent and then it’ll be over”, he says.

“Just the tip?”

“Yes, just the tip. Nothing more. I promise.”

You are going to do something which you thought never to do. But if it saves your life, you would do anything. Even something as crazy as allow Jungkook to stick his tip into you.

“Okay. Just the tip.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, moving closer for a kiss like it was instinct before he stops himself. You shudder, craving nothing more than what he denies both of you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he breathes.

“What?”

“Kiss.” He lets the word dance over your lips, running his thumb under your lips as his eyes stare. “We shouldn’t.”

“No, we shouldn’t”, you whimper, chasing him.

Moments of craving and yearning where both of you try so hard to kiss the other. But you shouldn’t. Just the tip, nothing more.

“Roll to your side, please”, Jungkook breaks the electric silence, guiding you with his hand on your shoulder until your back faces his chest.

You can see the fire and the rest of the shed like this, but not Jungkook.

“Why like this?”

“If I look at your face, I’ll stick it in completely. I can’t do this to you.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook closes the distance, connecting his hand with your hip. He guides it up your body, travelling along your waist and arm. His touch leaves goosebumps where it goes. His palm is slightly calloused from fighting but incredibly tender in how it touches you. You feel yourself breathe heavier and heavier the longer he touches you.

He reaches your shoulder, closing the last of the distance by lowering his lips to your back.

“Ah”, you let out quietly, tensing up. Your eyes are widened comically big, staring into the bright flames. He is kissing your naked skin. What the fuck.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed in contrast. His head is foggy, but he tries to fight these feelings. You smell so good that it is very difficult to do so.

His hand is still on your shoulder at first but moves to your waist when he guides his kisses to said shoulder.

“Oh god”, you whisper, sighing afterwards.

Jungkook feels droopy from the sound, digging his fingers into the softness of your side. He shouldn’t be doing this. Just the tip. That’s what he said. And yet here he is, kissing your soft skin as if it was his right to do so. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop. He traces and holds your side and stomach, telling himself that he only does it to relax you. He kisses every inch of your exposed back and shoulder, telling himself that he only does it to calm you down. When in truth he does all of this because he wants to make it nice for you. And maybe he wants to be a source of tenderness after what you had to go through.

Lies. These are still lies. He fucking does this because he wants to. He fucking does it because he wants to know how it is to touch you. Taehyung talked when you and he were high school sweethearts. Oh, Taehyung talked and Jungkook had to listen and secretly seethe with jealousy. It should be him, he thought back then, he would know how to treat you right.

You had no idea of these thoughts. You still haven’t as you lie here next to the warm fire while Jungkook touches you oh so carefully. You don’t know if you’re allowed to close your eyes. Just the tip, you agreed on. Can you close your eyes for that?

But it feels so good. His lips are soft, while his piercings are hard in contrast. His touch is currently dancing up the middle of your torso slowly. You fight the shivers wanting to run through you.

You lose the fight a moment later when he pulls you against his strong chest and kisses your neck.

You whimper, trembling like crazy. You arch into him, craning your neck to give him more of it. Your heart skips beats under his lips. Jungkook grips the blanket to stop his hand from cradling your tits.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this”, he presses out under his breath, mouthing at your neck hungrily. “I shouldn’t….do…this.”

He drags his lips to your jawline and sucks. Your eyes close.

You mewl, rolling your hips back into him. His cock slides between your legs, rubbing between your puffy folds. He trembles in shock, gripping your hip to stop your wiggles.

“Don’t do this. Don’t act like this when it is supposed to mean nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

“Mhhm I know. You can’t, but I can. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You swallow your begs, not wanting to appear weak or desperate. It is so difficult not to beg when you have his cock between your legs. Hugged by your folds and exchanging slick. He feels hot and his veins are pulsing desperately. You have never before felt so stupidly horny than you do right now. Quite frankly, he might be forcing you to go into impromptu heat if he keeps being like this.

“Just the tip, yeah? Just the tip”, he whispers as he puts his arm under your head so you have something comfortable to rest on. You practically melt into him, biting back tears. You are being held and it feels so good. So safe and warm.

He kisses your neck and cheek, whispering his words.

“Are you comfortable? Are you ready?”

“Yeah”, you sigh, pushing your hips back.

Jungkook slides his other hand between your bodies, using it to align his cock with your dripping entrance. Just the tip, he reminds himself, nothing more. Don’t be greedy, keep calm. This doesn’t mean anything.

“Last chance”, he says, wanting to stall time so he can calm down.

“I trust you.”

Jungkook bites back his moan, having to take a deep breath before he can act. You are messing him up without knowing. With a racing pulse, he applies pressure on your puffy cunt and slips inside.

You squeak, shaking against your will. You convulse around him, gasping repeatedly. He went in so easily, despite his size.

Jungkook growls, “fuck, holy fuck”, he gets out and bruises your hip as he grips it for support. It takes everything inside him not to push it all the way in. Jungkook genuinely has a hard time not to moan. You are so wet.

Judging from your tremors and the way you fight for air, it is just as difficult for you.

“Only a few more second”, he forces his voice to sound as normal as possible. He wants to fuck you, but knows that he shouldn’t.

“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head. You want him to fuck you.

Jungkook closes his hand to a fist, growing his claws to dig them into his own palm. The pain keeps him from acting up. He wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise.

Jungkook always hoped that he would marry you one day. There it is. It’s out there. Jungkook had feelings for you for decades. In his dreams, you marry him and he can spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten. He would be your protector against any danger, your best friend to laugh with, your remedy for your heats and the lover you can be yourself with.

Being with you like this is everything he ever wished for. You are so soft and warm around him, your slick is so wet. He knows that, deeper inside, it would be so much more. You'd be so warm, so soft. Jungkook gulps down his desire for more, otherwise he would do things he would regret.

“I think it should be good”, he presses out. He can’t do it anymore. One more second and he would push in all the way. He can’t do this to you. You trust him and he can’t abuse this trust.

“Really?”

You turn your head, looking up at him in droopy devotion. Jungkook whimpers, instantly cradling your cheek. He furrows his brows, throbbing inside you. He fights the urge to kiss you, to rest his forehead against yours, to bury himself deep inside you.

“Please don’t look at me.”

“Jungkook.”

His name hasn’t rolled off your tongue ever since he left you at the playground. It almost brings tears to his eyes, forcing his arm around you tighter.

“I can’t do this”, he drops his forehead against yours “I think I remembered that I need to put in all of it. It’s not gonna work otherwise.”

He is lying, because he can’t accept the truth yet. That he is selfish and totally addicted to you.

“Please do.”

“No. No we shouldn’t be doing this”, he fights it still, shaking his head which makes his nose rub against yours.

“Please”, your words tickle his lips, “save me. Whatever it takes, save me.”

“Urgh”, he growls through gritted teeth.

“Please.”

Jungkook lifts his head. He wants to look into your eyes as he does it. He wants to see the utter bliss in your eyes as he turns your relationship status from ex childhood best friends to two adults reunited.

He rolls his hips, feeding your warmth his length inch by inch. Your brows furrow and lift, your lids flutter, your mouth falls open.

“A-ah”, you squeak out.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m all here”, he whispers. He closes his arm around you, cradling you in a gentle headlock.

You close your fingers around his lower arm, spilling tears from your eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head.

“But?”

“So…filled out. So big.”

“I know. I’m big, but you’re taking me so well.”

You whimper. Jungkook feels so insanely protective over you right now.

“Yes, you are. Taking me so well”, he insists, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

Jungkook continues until he bottoms out. He shudders, choking down a whimper. You feel so good. He never ever felt like this before. It feels like coming home which is insane because he was never with you like this.

“___”, your name comes out of him against his will.

“Jungkook”, you answer him, clenching around him.

“Stay still, please.”

“Okay”, you whimper, looking at his lips.

The pull is magnetic. Jungkook draws closer with parted lips, you meet him with parted lips. Once you kiss, it will be over for you and him. There will be no coming back from this.

“No”, he croaks, putting his hand over your mouth. The headlock tightens like this, giving you such a sense of being protected that your walls clench against your will.

“We shouldn’t kiss. Never”, he rasps weakly, mouthing at his own hand right where your lips lie beneath. You close your eyes, trying to move your lips under his hand. It is starting to feel cruel to be denied his kiss. Especially when memories of your past come back to you.

You remember that it was a group of eight kids and you were doing “dares” to see who is the coolest. Taehyung was dared to prank call his mom and he actually did. He pretended to be a grown up insurance clerk and once he hung up, you really thought that he managed to prank his mom (he didn’t hide his phone number and had a childlike voice). Jimin, another friend, was dared to climb a tree. Which he did and he was sooo cool for it. They were silly, childish dares who did no harm but made you feel so cool. Then it came to you and you were dared to kiss Jungkook. Which you did. In a childlike, innocent way but which made you and him feel so grown up for a moment.

The memory is haunting you right now, making you want to redo it in a grown up, mature way. You open your eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. Judging from the foggy desperation in them, he is haunted by the same memory.

“Please get out of my head”, he gets out.

You whimper his name behind his hand. Jungkook furrows his brows, grinding his teeth.

“No please. Stop it”, he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut.

You want to fight it as well, of course you do. You swore to hate him forever and now you want nothing else than his kiss. You want to fight it, but your hands move against your will. They rest themselves over Jungkook’s hand and try to dig between your face and his palm.

He growls, huffing out air. The only thing keeping your hips from joining the impossible fight is his hand on it. Shit, now he is concentrating on down below. Your puffy walls around him, so soft and warm. Being inside you, Jungkook swears he will never be cold again. Or maybe he will be, maybe he will never find warmth again once this stops, once he has to slip out and pretend that it meant nothing.

What will happen afterwards? He is so needy and he knows that you are too. What will happen? Are you going to lie next to each other, wet and needy and force your bodies to calm down? Or maybe he will need to excuse himself to outside, fuck his own fist as the loud thunder masks his desperate moans while inside the shed you most definitely would touch yourself as well?

Jungkook was so lost in his haunted thoughts that he realises too late that you managed to tug his hand away. Your lips brush his’.

Jungkook moans from the bottom of his heart, going in for more at first. He even rolls his hips into you. Like instinct. Like it is meant to happen.

“No”, he pushes you away, slips out, breaks the moment. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not that far.”

You sob, shrinking into yourself.

“Please”, you whimper your words, staring at him with desperate, sad eyes. You lift your hips, begging him silently.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do it again. I can’t do this to you.”

“Please”, you beg.

“Do you even know what an alpha does when he fucks? I won’t be able to stop until I bred you. I-I’ll knot you and, and you won’t be able to get me out until I’m soft again.”

“I know.”

“This could take hours. You will feel out of control and vulnerable.”

“You said that you will protect me. That I-I’m safe with you.”

“___”, he chokes out and crawls to you. He picks you up in his strong arms, holding you against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy against your back. “Stop me. I beg you. I can’t pretend any longer that this means nothing to me. You have to stop this.”

You reach up and twist his hair, pulling him down to you.

“We shouldn’t-”

You silence him with a kiss.

Jungkook trembles, resting his weight against you as the kiss renders his body useless for a moment. You are kissing him. You stopped this stupid farce for you and him. You sealed your fates. Jungkook knows that it won’t be the same after tonight. He will never fucking give you up.

He breaks the kiss, but stay close.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Please. More.”

“Are you even hearing me?” he hisses.

“Yes. Please, more.”

“Fuck, we really shouldn’t, but maybe I…I have to move it a few times? To really mark you?”

“Yes, sounds good, mark me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”

“I-I’ll do it just for that. To make sure.”

“Yes. Okay”, you sigh and melt into him, lifting your leg.

Jungkook slides his hand under it instantly.

“Let me do it. Relax.”

You let your muscles relax, allowing him to carry your leg’s weight. He does it so easily, tracing your hairline with his fingertips as he looks down at you. He moves his hips so his cock would slip between your folds, working you up to what was coming by grinding back and forth. He really drags out the movements, sending trembles through your legs each time his thick tip rubs your swollen clit.

He exhales shakily, whispering his thoughts.

“You’re so wet. I have never felt slick so warm and, and wet before.”

You look up at him with shy, nervous puppy eyes, making him want to protect you forever.

“Is it bad?”

“No, fuck no”, he puts his arm around your chest, pulling you up to him until he can rest his forehead against yours. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Baby?”

“I…” he drops you, hips stilling in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. Anything he could say feels like too little of an apology.

You however increase the lethalness of your puppy eyes, reaching down to try and move his hips again.

“Please. More.”

“We’re only doing this to save you, right?” He asks, picking up a rhythm again. It is the same as before but way more arousing because he purposefully makes sure that his tip slips into you every now and then. He starts off with just a little poke, increasing the inches more and more. But it stays just the tip, for now, don’t be mistaken. If he slips inside it should happen accidentally. He likes to tell himself if it happens like this, it will mean that it wasn’t his fault.

“Yes, only to save me” you lull your words, getting droopier and droopier. Each time he has his tip inside you, it feels so good. Before he slips out and you feel sad, until of course he drags his cock over your clit instead.

You can’t do this for long anymore and Jungkook seems to share your feelings. The tip he buries in you starts to go way past your entrance and it seems to stay longer inside. His golden eyes never break contact, his fingers rub your arm as he holds you so close.

He slips into you again. So deep.

“Mhhhhm” he lets out in a rumble, furrowing his brows.

You whimper, lifting your brows.

Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. He won’t be able to escape like this.

Deeper.

He bottoms out.

You moan, eyelids fluttering and lips chasing his kiss.

He shakes his head, talking as he falls into the kiss.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You kiss and Jungkook’s cock doesn’t leave you again. It stays buried deep inside you, reshaping your walls as his hips move. Slowly for now, daring not to be too rough with you. Because being rough makes it real. Maybe if he keeps his movements tiny enough, it will still count as being nothing of importance.

Because that’s what this is, right? Something that doesn’t mean anything, something that won’t change who you and he are. This is what those needy, hungry tongue kisses mean, this is what the desperate touches mean, this is what the exchanging of warm slick means. Nothing. Because if those things meant something, it would force Jungkook to admit that he is doing This for himself. Of course he does it to save you, but if it meant something, he would have to admit that he is also doing this for himself.

But it doesn’t mean anything, right? Right?

You break the kiss for air, looking up at him submissively and droopy.

“It feels so good”, you whisper.

“Close your eyes, please.”

You obey and Jungkook has to come to the realisation that it makes no difference. This fucking means something. Holy fuck, he is done for.

“Maybe I have to make you cum?”

“What?” you ask, eyes still closed.

“I think I need to make you cum once. Then you’ll be marked.”

“Please do. I trust you.”

Trust. He thought that he would never earn it again and yet here he is. With your weakened, trembling body in his hold as you trust him to take good care of you.

“Mhhm shit”, he presses out, biting down on his own tongue to calm himself. Be tender with her, he thinks, you swore to be a gentle alpha so fucking get it together.

He moves you into another position, draping your leg over his hip so you wouldn’t have to use your muscles. You are so open and spread like this, allowing his big cock entrance. He slides his hand to your clit and takes it between his thumb and middle finger to massage it.

“A-ha”, you let out, arching your back and lifting your hips.

“Ssssh, relax. I’m here.”

“Please, deeper.”

Jungkook buries his cock deep inside you and stays there, circling his hips. He is so big and long that he stimulates both your g-spot and your cervix. He is so gentle that it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good that your fangs grow against your will and you leak masses of new slick.

“Like this? Am I making it nice for you?”

“So nice”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously.

Jungkook is gazing at you as it happens. He watches every change of expression on your face, fighting the urge to call you beautiful. Because that’s what you are. Beautiful. You would deserve to know but he is scared of the consequences. It would mean the fluttering of his heart is real.

“Is so nice”, you sigh, writhing happily. It breaks him.

“You’re beautiful”, he says, moaning softly when you tighten and arch your back. So you liked it. His cock throbs inside you, leaking into you needily. “Yeah that’s right, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Taking me so well, feeling so good on my cock.”

“Ah, aaaah”, your moans are so loud, your pussy so fucking wet and your clit so swollen.

Jungkook fucks you gently, massaging your spot of pleasure with his long, skilled fingers. He can feel your heartbeat in your back, as much as he can feel you rub against his nipples.

The blanket over your bodies is so hot, making you and him sweat wherever you are touching. He can’t deny it anymore that this is real, that this means something. This means fucking everything to him.

“You’re such a good omega, taking me so well.”

“You’re making me cum”, you croak, grasping his arm for support, “please, can I cum?”

“Yes, baby. You can. Cum for me.”

“Jungkook”, you gasp, ripping your eyes open to stare in shock as his gentle touches bring you over the edge.

Your eyes flicker golden, you moan silently with an open mouth.

“That’s it, cum for your alpha. Let me mark you, that’s it.”

He has a hard time saying these words to you. His thoughts are running wild. This is the face you make when you have an orgasm. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this to be a face he gets to see. And it’s so beautiful that he treads the moment your high stops and he has to pull out. He doesn’t want to pull out. He needs more of you. He needs you like fucking crazy.

“More please”, and then your beg releases him. You are down from your high, yet still so hungry for more. You feel so fulfilled with him that you don’t want this to stop.

“What?” he croaks.

“More please, more.”

“If I do this, I won’t stop until I cum too.”

“I know.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have to cum inside you to mark you?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The pretend continues. The fucking charades that this is only to save you from your fate, that you and he aren’t doing this because it feels so good to both of you.

“Please Jungkook, fuck me properly.”

“Are you sure?” he almost squeaks the words because he has such a hard time controlling his urges.

“Yes. Please.”

“Holy fuck. ___ urgh.”

Your needy beg does the rest. His animalistic instincts take over.

Jungkook growls, grabbing you roughly to flip you onto your stomach and therefore pin you down. He straddles you from behind. His right hand slips to the back of your head, his left hand has a possessive grip on your hip. His legs cage in your legs, keeping them squeezed together as he drills his thick cock into your pussy. You are so tight like this, jerking him off in such a maddening way.

You scream up as you didn’t expect him to take on such a punishing pace instantly, but you aren’t complaining. It feels so good to take him. He fucks you so well. His cock is so filling, making you feel whole.

“I’m not holding back now. For you, just for you. Is this good for you? Do you like this?”, he growls through gritted fangs, shifting his eyes between your face and his cock.

“Yeaa”, you sob, clawing at the ground helplessly. You were aware that Jungkook has been an adult for years, but this is still changing how you see him. Whenever you thought of him, you saw that twelve year old boy calling you immature for playing. That boy is gone as if he never existed. Jungkook is a fucking adult and he is rewriting the image in your mind one heavy stroke at a time.

“You should have never seen me like this. Fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook spits, high on your body. He is embarrassed by his actions, but can’t stop them. “But I can’t stop. Holy fuck, I need you so fucking bad.” He needs to fuck you. You are so small and weak right now, so goddamn vulnerable. Once so unclaimed until he took you.

You are his.

Jungkook growls, pinning you harder into the ground.

You are his.

You reach behind yourself because his hand on your head hurts. He grabs your wrist instantly, using it to pin your arm against your back. You wail up, kicking the ground as best as possible as you writhe in your imprisonment.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. Not you. I’m sorry.”

He apologises, knowing that he won’t be able to stop until you are claimed. The thought makes him crazy. He is claiming you. The girl who was his first kiss, his best friend who always came to him when she needed help, the woman who counts on him to protect her from her fate and the wife he always hoped to have one day. And he is claiming her. He is marking her, making you his for anyone to smell.

Jungkook drills you harder. He pulls out all the way to his tip just to thrust into you sloppily. He does it over and over again, reminding your dripping pussy of his size with each possessive thrust.

And you take it with grateful sobs, existing only for him right now. You would never recover if he stopped right now. You need him to finish what he started even if it ruins you in the process.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at where he buries himself in you.

Your slick is slowly taking on a milky colour from the intense friction. It sticks to his veiny shaft and his dark pubes, smearing all over your ass and his thighs as well.

If this shouldn’t happen, why does it feel so good? If this shouldn’t happen, why does it look so hot? If this shouldn’t happen, why does he not want to stop?

Jungkook scrunches his face in anger. He lets go of your arm so he can grip your hips with both hands. He pulls them up until you are kneeling. Your face is still buried in the ground, your back is arched.

You shake and convulse instantly, sobbing in embarrassment because the open position of your legs forces your slick to run out of you.

“Holy fuck”, he gets out, staring at it with blown out pupils, “holy fuck, ___.”

“I’m sorry, please don’t judge me”, you beg, trying so hard to keep it inside with clenches around his cock.

“Never. Holy fuck, I could never.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Relax, baby. Don’t fight it”, he says, knowing that you and he shouldn’t be doing this.

You obey instinctively. You relax around him, releasing the slick you so desperately wanted to hide from him. It begins squirting out of you messily and audibly, marking him yours.

“Yes”, he growls and begins pulling your hips onto his cock possessively, thrusting into you at the same time. He does it with one hand because the other he slips between your legs to pinch your clit. Gently of course, keeping her between two fingers to massage her in circular motions.

“Let me help you.”

You wail and shake, releasing more and more of your pretty slick. It runs down your thighs, covers his legs, smears all over your ass and his stomach.

“Relax, that’s it. My pretty omega shouldn’t keep it inside. It’s not good for you.”

“Jungkook, I can’t do this”, you sob.

“I know. We can’t do this, we never should have.”

“No”, you wail, “no. I have to cum again.”

“Whenever you want to. Your alpha’s right here, baby.”

“Jungkook!” you scream, breaking apart as if you never orgasmed before. It feels so good.

“Holy fuck baby, ah!” Jungkook yelps, hips stuttering in shock, “you feel so good, what the fuck ah! Ah! I can’t control myself. Baby!”

Jungkook growls and lays himself over you. He holds you up with one hand around you, biting down on your shoulder as his body breaks. You sob from the pain of the bite, loving every second of it.

And then it hits you.

His seed.

His thick, hot seed.

It shoots out of him with such strength that you feel punched in the gut. The effect is instant. You lose control over yourself. Quite literally, you lose control. You can still talk, using it to scream his name as you orgasm in a way you have never experienced before.

The first one was intense but familiar. This right now? You didn’t even know that your body could feel this way. It is truly, seriously, religious. It is as if you finally found your purpose in life. And in a sense you did. You found your alpha. He finally claimed you properly. You are his’. You aren’t unclaimed anymore. Nobody ever educated on this, so you have no idea that these religious, soul fulfilling feelings mean that you changed forever, but you don’t mind right now. You are just riding on these feelings, screaming his name and milking him dry.

Jungkook whimpers. He truly, honestly whimpers from the bottom of his heart, collapsing on top of you. He knocks you into the ground like that, burying you under his weight but he couldn’t stop it from happening.

He never experienced this feeling either. He had sex with people, but it never felt like This before. He orgasmed in them but it never felt like this. It feels as if his seed finally has purpose. That’s how it feels. Like his efforts and all the rutting he is doing has fucking purpose.

And then it happens. Something that he was only told could happen to him, finally happens to him. His knot swells. He actually fucking grows a knot and has to writhe on top of you, burying his nose deep in your hair as he sobs your name.

You sob as well, insides suddenly feeling like bursting. His knot is so big and thick that it should feel like an intruder but it doesn’t. It feels like the best drug ever. You didn’t even know that you could stretch this far. The amount of stimulation it gives you as it rubs against your walls is otherworldly, making you chase one orgasm after the other.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Ah! ___!” Jungkook yelps, having to orgasm again as your tight walls stimulate his knot. The amount of sensitivity he feels on it is insane.

His hands slide together with yours, holding them tightly as he pins them into the ground. His tears fall into your hair, your own tears soak the blanket.

“I can’t stop”, you get out, shaking in fear, “I can’t stop cumming!”

“Me neither.”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared”, you sob, riding on the unfamiliar, scary sensations.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’m here”, he talks you through it, shaking beyond saving.

You aren’t even moving much. There are no thrusts, no sloppy wiggles. Just and you and him, actually stuck together because of his knot while he pumps one cumshot after the other into you. There is no movement and yet it feels better than the most passionate rutting session you each had. No movement and yet you are fulfilled beyond comparison. Is this how it feels to find your mate? Is this what it is?

Did “we shouldn’t be doing this” turn into the finding of your other half? Was “we shouldn’t be doing this” fate’s way of protecting you from what will happen once you gave in? Or was there ever a “we shouldn’t be doing this” strong enough that could have prevented you from doing this?

Whatever it might be, it is too late to think about the what ifs now. The reality is that you and he can’t stop climaxing, lost in the most addicting and intense pleasure you and he ever found yourselves in. It is never ending. When he climaxes, you have to too which sets him off again, triggering your need to as well. It is a vicious, never ending, orgasmic cycle.

“This feels so good”, he croaks out, writhing on top of you, “does it feel-”

“Yes! Yes! Oh god please Kook not again. Kook!”

“Kook”, Jungkook repeats the nickname in a whimper, curling his toes as another orgasm hits him as well. He never thought to hear this name from you again. He can’t handle it any other way than filling you with more of him.

There is so much of him inside you by now, having no way to escape because of his knot that your body reacts in the only way it knows how to survive. It opens up for his seed to go deeper. It trickles into the deepest parts of your sex organs, warming you from the inside out. It is like he is alive inside you, feeding you with the strongest drug you ever took. You think that you black out for a moment. You are still aware of what is happening to you, but it is hidden behind a thick layer of blurriness.

“Eh”, you let out, falling into the darkness gladly. It feels so good to do. There is something because you are aware of your orgasm, but there is also nothing. It is as if you are standing next to your body, watching it shake and tremble as he makes a home inside you.

And then there is nothing. Truly nothing. No more orgasmic pleasure, no more watching yourself. Just darkness.

“___? Hey, ___? Holy fuck, what’s wrong with you? ___, open your eyes please”, Jungkook’s distraught voice comes closer and closer, his hand on your face becomes clearer and clearer, “please ___, open your eyes, please. Oh god, what have I done? I should never have done this. I- Oh god ___ please, I’m sorry. Wake up, please.”

He shakes your head gently. It brings you back to reality. Your body regains the ability to feel.

“Jungkook”, you whimper, opening your eyes. You writhe instantly, throbbing around his knot happily.

“___ hey. Holy fuck, thank god. Hey”, he says, dropping his forehead against your temple and kissing the side of your face desperately, “I’m so glad that you’re back. I thought that I killed you.”

“No, just made me black out.”

“Why? Does it hurt? Are you in lots of pain?”

“No, just haven’t felt so good before. Ever. Kook, I”, you suddenly have to whimper your words, “I feel your cum inside my uterus. It’s so warm and alive and….right.”

“It is?” He whimpers as well, feeling weakened in emotion.

You nod your head. Jungkook sobs quietly, using the hold he has on your hand to guide your arm under your body and against your chest. Like this, he rolls your bodies to their sides, instantly cradling you against his chest while his trembling lips kiss any part of you that he can reach.

Your face, your neck, your shoulder, your arm, your back and the bite mark he left, your face again. Over and over he kisses each inch of you, whispering your name every now and then as if he is trying to make sure that he remembers who made him feel like this. As if he is trying to make his brain memorise who it was who made him experience his first knot.

He is still swollen, keeping everything inside you safely. It is still so intense, but suddenly it feels more emotionally intense than physically. Enough time must have passed for the fire to reduce the logs by lot. And all of a sudden you and he don’t feel the uncontrollable need to orgasm anymore. You still want to be close, moving your hips in emotionally needy wiggles in hopes of keeping his knot alive for as long as possible, but it is not to chase another orgasm. You want this to last because it feels so safe.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want this to end”, Jungkook confesses, holding you protectively.

“Me neither. I feel so safe like this.”

“Holy fuck, ___. What did we do?” he presses out, kissing your cheek over and over again.

“I don’t know.”

“I never knotted before. I never felt like this. Holy fuck, ___.”

“What is gonna happen to us now?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t let you go again. Ever. I don’t wanna fucking share you. Never. I’m trying so hard not to tell you that you’re mine ‘cause I promised you that this would never happen again.”

“Please don’t.”

“What?”

You turn your head, leaning deeper into his embrace. Like this, you feel his racing heart against your shoulder and you are entirely protected in his arms. His knotted cock throbs inside you as your eyes meet. The same playful, gentle boy of the past looks back at you, except that his once boyish features are mature and aged up. A gentle, adoring man stares back at you and you can’t seem to find your way out of his galaxy eyes.

“Please don’t promise me that this won’t happen again.” You cradle his cheek. “Don’t hold back on telling me that I’m yours.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re high from my cum, these aren’t your real feelings.”

“Why shouldn’t they be?”

“___, we-”

You put your thumb on his lips.

“We shouldn’t have done this, I know. You kept telling me as we kept doing this.”

Jungkook gives up in a sigh, having to chuckle afterwards. You giggle, cupping his cheek again.

“Just the tip. That’s what we agreed on. Just the tip”, he says.

You clench around his knot, touching your bloated stomach. You instantly guide his hand to it, wanting him to feel what he did to you. He purrs deeply, biting down on his lower lip. You grin goofily.

“Just the tip indeed.”

He laughs softly. You snicker and stub his nose with your own.

“This is the messiest and deepest tip I have ever given”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, this was funny.”

“Mhm, I’m pretty funny”, he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck to tickle you gently.

You squeak and giggle, feeling happy beyond comparison. Jungkook ends his loving attack with kisses to your ear.

You sigh, melting into the affection. You and he lace fingers, using the position to melt closer.

Your droopy eyes stare into the flames while Jungkook relaxes you with soft kisses all over your neck, shoulder and back.

The thunderstorm stopped outside. It is already a little brighter. Fuck, so you were really trapped in this orgasmic state for a few hours. It felt as if so little time passed as it was happening.

“What is gonna happen now?” you whisper.

“Now? We’re gonna cuddle and I’ll be kissing you until you’re asleep.”

“I mean after that. Do we have to show Urquard that I’m claimed?”

“I guess. I haven’t thought that far into the future yet. But yes, he will probably want proof that you’re marked.”

“I’m scared. Do I have to get naked in front of him? And his pack? Will he put something in me to get a scent?”

“He can try if he wants to die.” Jungkook pulls you closer possessively. “You’re under my protection now. Okay? You won’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with and I’ll hunt down anyone who dares to overstep your boundaries. Even Urquard and his pack.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I promise you.”

You close your eyes, spilling tears.

“Thank you.”

You never thought it possible to have your dreams fulfilled by Jungkook and yet here you are. You are being held and comforted by Jungkook and it feels like home.

“Don’t thank me. You’re mine. My darling ___ to keep safe. You have my body to protect you and my heart to find a home in.”

There is deep rooted honesty in his words, but you are suddenly too sleepy to ask him what he meant by them. There will still be another time. This wasn’t just a one time thing after all.

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ggukivrse · 3 months ago

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STUDY BREAK - JJK | 01

summary. in which you’re all distraction and no remorse, and jungkook keeps coming back for more

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

genre: college au, established relationship, smut (?)

word count: 1.4k

warnings: jk wears glasses (yes that is a warning), oc and jk are both menaces, kissing, making out, allusions to sex

note: this is result of me listening to house of cards on repeat while ovulating. if you guys like it, i might do a part two with proper smut :>

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback.

Jungkook’s apartment is dimly lit, warm in that comfortable, lived-in way you’ve come to crave more than you probably should. A soft playlist hums from the speaker in the corner, barely louder than the sound of your breathing.

His living room looks the same as always — chaotic in the most him way. Hoodies thrown over chairs, open notebooks stacked beside the couch, a half-empty bag of chips spilling onto the ground.

You’re both on the floor, backs against the couch, knees almost brushing. Your laptop’s abandoned by your side, dark screen catching the glow from the window. His is still open, cursor blinking like it’s mocking your lack of productivity.

It’s supposed to be a study night. Like the five others you’ve had in the last two weeks.

But Jungkook’s wearing that loose white t-shirt again — the one that clings to his skin just a little when he stretches — and those damn grey sweatpants that should be illegal.

His hair is messy, dark strands falling across his forehead in that careless way that looks intentional even though you know it isn’t. His glasses are slipping down his nose again, and he keeps pushing them up without looking away from the flashcards in his hand.

The sight of him — relaxed, comfortable, stupidly hot — should be background noise by now.

But it isn’t.

Your gaze drops. to his jaw, to the slope of his neck, to the curve of his thigh under those sweatpants, to the way his arm flexes when he flips a card.

And suddenly, studying the notes in front of you feels like the least important thing in the world.

You let out a dramatic sigh, dragging your fingers through your hair and flopping your head back against the couch.

“I’m so bored I might actually combust,” you mumble.

Jungkook barely glances over. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time.”

His mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. he flips another card. “Then stop texting me to come over.”

You roll your head to the side, eyes narrowing. “You could say no.”

He finally looks at you, eyes dark and unreadable behind his glasses. “Have you met you?”

Your stomach flips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, slow and deliberate, “You say ‘wanna study?’ and I stop thinking about anything else. That’s not normal, by the way.”

You blink. He’s back to looking at his cards like he didn’t just casually say something that made your heart punch your ribs.

You watch him for another beat, then let your hand drift — casual, like it’s nothing — to the edge of his sweatpants. You toy with the drawstring, looping it around your finger. Not pulling, just... touching.

“You’re not really helping me focus, you know,” you say softly.

“Funny,” he says without looking up, “I was about to say the same thing.”

You smile. Not sweet — sharp. “You could kick me out.”

He turns his head slowly, meets your eyes again. There’s a flicker there — of something teasing yet dark. “You think I don’t want to?”

Your breath catches.

But you don’t back down. Instead, you tilt your chin slightly and close the small distance between you, your knees knocking together now. “You never do.”

Jungkook huffs out a laugh — low and breathless — and leans his head back against the couch. His eyes close for a second like he’s trying to pull himself together.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

You shrug one shoulder. “Maybe I do. Maybe I just like seeing how long you’ll last.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just turns his head to face you again. He looks at you in a way that makes your whole body feel too warm. Then, slowly, he shifts. His thigh brushes against yours, firmer this time, and his hand — the one that was holding the flashcards — drops to his lap.

“I’m not made of stone, you know,” he says, voice low.

“No,” you murmur, eyes dropping to his mouth. “You’re not.”

Neither of you move. Not really.

But the space between you shrinks anyway. Electrified. Waiting.

His gaze drops to your mouth. Yours does the same.

“You’re evil,” he mutters.

You smile. “You love it.”

He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek. “I really fucking do,” he says, not even trying to hide it.

His lips meet yours before you can think of a snarky comeback.

Jungkook kisses you like a starved man — like he’s been holding back for too long and now that he’s had a taste, he’s not letting go.

It steals your breath. Literally. Your lungs forget how to work for a moment as your mouth parts for his, the soft slide of his lips over yours turning quickly into something more intense. Hungrier. You can feel the warmth of it spread instantly — through your chest, down your arms, pooling in your stomach.

You don’t think. You just move.

Shifting up onto your knees, you climb into his lap and straddle him with ease, hands coming up to cup his jaw. He makes a soft sound against your mouth as your fingers slide into his hair, nails grazing lightly at the roots. his hands find your waist immediately, fingers squeezing — grounding, claiming, maybe both.

Your hips settle against his, the stretch of fabric between you suddenly way too noticeable. You can feel the tension in his thighs, in the way his fingers flex against your waist, how his chest rises and falls just a little too fast under you.

You tug gently at his hair and he lets out a low sound, something between a gasp and a groan, muffled against your lips. It makes your stomach flip, sharp and electric, heat blooming between your legs.

He kisses you harder.

His hands roam — sliding up your sides, over your ribs, skimming the underside of your shirt. Every touch is deliberate, slow but unrestrained, like he wants to memorise every inch of you with his palms. When his thumbs brush just beneath your bra, you inhale sharply, your lips breaking from his.

You lean back, taking in his form: glasses askew on his face, tilted enough to look ridiculous, your tinted lip gloss smeared across his lips, flushed and shiny from kissing, painting the corners of his mouth like you’d marked him.

Something about the sight makes your heart thud faster.

“Here,” you murmur, breath catching, as you reach up and gently pull the glasses off his face.

He blinks, eyes slightly unfocused, lashes fluttering as he tries to reorient himself — like he forgot where he was the second your lips left his.

You set the glasses aside carefully, then glance back down at him. “Better,” you whisper.

Before he can say anything, you dive back in — mouths colliding again, your fingers back in his hair like you can’t stand to not be touching him. His hands move too, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, spreading warmth across your skin.

His hands settle at your lower back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel him now — cock hard beneath you, obvious and impossible to ignore. You rock forward slightly, not to tease, not intentionally — just to get closer — and he groans into your mouth again, the sound deep and low.

You bite back a smile, pulling back just enough to look at him again. His cheeks are flushed, lips pink and swollen, eyes heavy-lidded and focused only on you. He looks drunk — drunk on your lips, drunk on your taste, drunk on your touch.

“You’re really bad at studying,” you whisper.

“So are you,” he shoots back, breathless, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

His hands slide up under your shirt before he connects your lips again, fingertips dragging gently along your spine. You shiver, leaning into him, your nose brushing his as you kiss and kiss and kiss until the world feels far away — until the only things that exist are his hands, his mouth, the heat of his body under yours.

And fuck, if this is what procrastination always feels like?

You never want to study again.

→ read part two here

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback.

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hoppersofficialblog · 2 years ago

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To those in wait, there will be a new page!!!

#biblically accurate angel #webcomic #comic art #oc: agitato #oc: clef #oc: f sharp #oc: percy

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wintrbears · 24 days ago

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Then/Now | JJK & KTH

Summary: Taehyung finally finds you again after years of searching, and all he needs to do is kiss you to return the memories of your past life together. The only problem is you're already in a relationship, and with the very person who executed you in the first place.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Reincarnation/Past Lives AU, Royalty AU, Friends to Lovers, Ex-Friends to Lovers, Affair, Angst, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 28.5k+

Warnings: major character death(s) (in the past, they get reincarnated), execution/death, suicide, blood, swords, wound from a blade, crying, screaming, arguing, cheating, lying, heartbreak, mentions of war, death of loved ones, the fifteenth century, horses, fear of heights, pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, being restrained, migraines, hallucinations/seeing visions, flashbacks, corsets, gowns, basketball, cheerleading, loud crowds, gymnasiums, passing out, needles, being sedated, vomiting, drinking, cursing, depression, mention of graves, crypts, children, chapel, wedding, priest, sacraments, kings, queens, knights, armor and shields, pet names (baby, love, darling), beer pong, darts, loss of friendship, nonconsensual kissing, mention of sorcery/sorceress, spells, reincarnation. SMUT: big dick tae and jk 🤪, loss of virginity, missionary, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pull-out method, mention of masturbation (f), jacking off/hand job, dick riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forced exhibitionism (idk how to explain it properly but someone listens outside the door as they have sex), cum eating, coming on skin, cream pie, making out in public, alright I think that's everything but lmk if I missed something.

Author’s Note: jungkook villain era?? haha jk... unless 👀, ok anyway, happy festa everyone! for this fic we got BOAF ‘EM, baby! So excited to have my biases front and center in this monster of a fic lmao. I didn’t even know this many words were capable of coming from my brain but here they are. I really hope you guys love it even though some of our characters be making some major blunders. please don't judge OC too harshly, ok? she's doing her best. also I'll formally apologize to tae for constantly putting him in these situations at a later date. I'm very proud of how this turned out, so, as always, please lmk your thoughts and I hope you enjoyyyy :)

Taehyung kneels across from you, devoid of the armor and shield which make up his regular attire. They’ve been stripped from him, leaving him in just his frock and riding pants. Two of his fellow knights hold his arms out, turning him into the image of the cross before your eyes. You don’t repent, since God is not the one you need to beg for forgiveness.

Your nails scratch harshly against the wood below you as you listen to the footsteps of the King circling around before they halt behind your back. His footsteps which are so familiar and were once the sound you stayed up waiting to hear come down the corridor.

Time moves like the cogs of an ungreased wheel, each click of its turns bringing you closer to the fate which awaits you.

Taehyung glares at the King and thrashes against his restraints, even though every soul in the room, including him, knows it’s useless. His insubordination goes ignored.

“Any last words, your Highness?”

Eyes snapping shut, your emotions betray you as a sob escapes from your chest and tears fall from your eyes onto the floor below. An unalterable grief overtakes you. You look into Taehyung’s chocolate eyes one last time before returning your gaze to the floor.

“I love you,” you whisper across an exhale, most likely your last. “I am so sorry.”

A single poignant moment passes before the sharp blade slices across the delicate skin of your neck.

You gasp and grab at your throat, but the sound becomes a gurgle as blood pours from your neck, staining the wood and your gown below you. The deep red liquid flows around your fingers and stains your skin with its potency. Your vision is already gone, and your hearing follows only seconds after. Your body meets the floor with a thump as the light in your eyes flickers out.

Blood continues to spill from your wound and run through the knots in the wood like a river around stones, creating a halo of it around your body.

“No, no, no, Y/N!” Taehyung cries as he pulls against the knights again, trying to reach you even though you’re already gone. The beautiful eyes he adores stare lifelessly back at him. “You monster,” he sneers.

The King doesn’t say another word, and doesn’t offer Taehyung the same grace he did to you. He just slowly makes his way across the room before repeating the action across his former first knight’s neck.

His body falls next to yours, his blood fanning out around him and combining with yours into a pool of thick, dark liquid that leaks through the cracks in the wood. Your clothing absorbs the fluid and paints you both red.

A final thump follows shortly after.

PRESENT DAY

Taehyung doesn’t know where he’s going, but he thinks it must be the right direction because he can hear cheers from the building coming into view. It’s massive compared to the rest of the school's architecture, but he’s not surprised by that. Most universities nowadays put more emphasis on sports than anything else.

The cheers only grow as he approaches, a loud buzzer triggering the eruption of sound each time. When he enters the gym, the bounce of the basketball and swoosh of it falling into the net joins the mixture of noises coming from inside. He hands his ticket to the woman at the entrance before heading towards the basketball court.

It’s uncomfortably warm in the gym. All the bodies stacked in the bleachers and the sweat from the players creates a thick air around the whole scene. The combination of the temperature and loud noises only perpetuates the distortion of his senses, as if he isn’t anxious enough already. Taehyung’s eyes scan the space as he stands in the doorway, off to the side to avoid disturbing the patrons who come and go.

It only takes him a few seconds to find you.

You’re standing courtside, among the first row of cheerleaders who stand with their pom poms behind their back. Hair down and in curls, with a piece of it tucked behind one ear, and glitter all over your eyelids and cheeks. You look nothing like the last time he saw you and yet somehow you’re exactly the same.

Every few minutes you rub the plastic poms together to cheer on the team, sometimes shouting for them, too. It’s so mundane and yet it takes Taehyung’s breath away. It’s only natural, given that this is his first time seeing you in… well, since his last life.

He never moves from his spot in the doorway, he just stands and admires your every movement and gesture.

His eyes trace across your familiar visage. Your eyes still sparkle, your skin is soft and dewy, and your lips steal his attention instantaneously. The faint blush across your cheeks reminds him of his childhood and of home. It’s been so long, but seeing you now makes him feel like it was only yesterday.

The only thing out of place is seeing you in this attire. Your cheerleader uniform consists of a miniskirt and tight top which only just meets the top of your skirt. Every time you stretch or move your hips, a sliver of your stomach shows and Taehyung is holding his breath. It’s enough to send his mind into a frenzy. In his last life, he never saw so much as your ankle until the first time he made love to you.

All too soon, the game ends with a final buzzer. Your team must have won, because you join the rest of the cheerleaders in a chant with the spectators behind you before congratulating the team one by one.

Once the celebrations are through, you begin packing your things in a duffel matching the university's colors. One of the basketball players walks over and talks to you as you swap out your shoes for something more comfortable and bring a sweatshirt down over your head. Taehyung’s in a love-filled daze as he watches you pull your hair out from where it’s trapped under the neckline and smile at your conversation partner. Every little thing you do is pure magic in his eyes.

Suddenly, you’re waving goodbye to the athlete and walking towards the very exit where Taehyung stands. He’s nervous, more nervous than he’s ever been in his entire life. This one, at least. His heartbeat slows in time with your steps as you grow closer and closer.

“Hi!” Taehyung catches your attention.

You look confused as to where the voice is coming from, your eyes flitting around the room to find the answer, but then you spot Taehyung in front of you and smile.

“Hi,” you respond.

“You — you were great out there,” Taehyung compliments.

Your head tilts to the right and your nose scrunches as you smile. There’s an ache in Taehyung’s chest at the familiar movement. Even your mannerisms are the same.

“Was I? Thank you,” you say. “I didn’t do much.”

“Maybe not, but it’s obvious why you’re front and center,” Taehyung continues.

“That’s what I get for being cheer captain,” you sing-song. Taehyung opens his mouth to say something else, but you continue before he can. “I’m so sorry, my boyfriend is sick so I’m trying to get back to him as fast as I can.”

“Oh.” Boyfriend? “That’s alright, I’ll leave you be. I’m Taehyung, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you reply with a miniature curtsy. You have no memories of ever being a royal, but it must still be in your blood somewhere. “Well, see you later.”

“Yeah, later,” Taehyung concurs.

Taehyung should be elated about having his first conversation with you after an over twenty-year-long hunt, but he didn’t account for everything before traveling across the country to find you. The possibility of you already being in a relationship when he found you never once crossed his mind.

How is he supposed to kiss you and return your memories if you’re already taken?

Taehyung sits in his new dorm for the next couple days and paces around the small room as he thinks of a plan. Eventually, he decides to befriend you, which should be easy since an introduction has already been made, and make you fall in love with him the same way he did in your last lives together.

He stole you from someone once before and all he has to do is do it again.

The next time he sees you is in the library. You’re sitting at a table near the wall of windows that overlooks the large plane of grass marking the center of campus. You have big pink headphones on and are moving your head slowly back and forth to whatever music is coming from them. There are two books and a laptop in front of you and you’re writing diligently in a notebook which rests on your lap.

Taehyung approaches you slowly, checking his surroundings for any mysterious boyfriends who may come to join you.

When he reaches you without any interruptions, he taps the desk with his knuckles to grab your attention. You smile when you see him and remove your headphones.

“Hey, Taehyung,” you greet him.

His heart soars over you remembering his name.

“Hi, mind if I join you?”

“No, of course not,” you respond. Gesturing to the empty seat across from you with your hand, you smile again as Taehyung takes his backpack off and sits down. “So, you’re new around here. Transfer student?”

“Yup,” Taehyung says as he pulls his laptop out.

“Are you a senior, too?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a majority of my credits, but because of the transfer nonsense there are some things I’ll need to retake,” he explains.

“Bummer,” you reply. Your hand fishes in your backpack before pulling out a piece of candy and popping it in your mouth. “Do you play any sports?”

Before Taehyung answers, you offer him a piece of your sweets, but he declines with a wave.

“Just fencing and horseback riding, if you count those,” he answers.

“Um, woah. Yes, I count those,” you laugh. “That’s way cooler than contact sports.”

Talking to you is as easy as breathing and it sets Taehyung’s heart alight in his chest. It makes him remember all of your long conversations about everything and nothing. Your presence is so warm, welcoming, and familiar that it’s easy for him to forget this is only your second conversation.

“How’s your boyfriend?”

“Oh, he’s doing a lot better. Thanks for asking,” you say. “Normally, he’s at the games with me, since he’s the captain of the team, but he caught a nasty cold last week and couldn’t play.”

“So he’s a basketball player?” You nod and bite your candy in half. You’re adorably vicious with the chewy treat. “And how long have you known each other or been together or whatever.”

“Two years,” you say nonchalantly.

Two years?

Taehyung definitely has his work cut out for him. You’re not just in any relationship, you’re in a serious, long standing relationship. He needs to learn more about him so he can better understand who he’s up against. Hopefully, as your friendship grows, you’ll offer to introduce the two of them.

“Wow, that’s awesome,” he says even though it tastes bitter in his mouth.

“Yeah, we met freshman year and were just friends for a long time, but the heart wants what the heart wants, ya know?”

Yes, he certainly knows all too well.

You end up studying together for a couple hours before you leave for cheer practice. After that, you form a routine of meeting up to work on assignments and study, which perfectly aligns with Taehyung’s plans.

The study “dates” always happen at the library on Tuesdays and Thursdays, usually after lunch. It works well for you both because the silent moments are comfortable and the conversation is easy. Your study sessions are the only time Taehyung sees you for a couple months, and he’s yet to meet your boyfriend.

That changes one Thursday when you invite him to the basketball game the following night. Apparently, it’s against the university’s main rival and you’re giddy about the competition and hopefully seeing the team win. Taehyung graciously accepts and tells you he’ll see you then when you say goodbye.

Taehyung is wearing a hoodie with the university logo on it that he picked up from the school store earlier today. He blends in seamlessly with the crowd of students all wearing the same colors to support the team. After handing his ticket over, he makes his way into the gym and finds one of the few empty spots on the bleachers.

The court is currently empty since there’s still some time before the game starts. The other students on the bleachers are conversing with each other and eating their concessions, but Taehyung is mentally preparing himself to finally see his competitor for your heart.

Taehyung isn’t one to brag, but he’s been told he’s pretty handsome, and he likes to think he’s got a good personality. He’s just worrying himself sick over whether those attributes will be enough to make you end a two year long partnership. All he can hope for is that you walk into the gym with someone of below average looks and a shitty personality.

His leg bounces incessantly as the minutes tick by and the start time of the game nears. He watches other cheerleaders and basketball players filter in through the doors, every single one making his heart stop until he realizes it isn’t you. When it finally is you, Taehyung finds himself moving to the edge of his seat, his lip catching between his teeth.

You walk into the gym through the large metal doors first, but Taehyung can see a hand laced with yours. His eyes trace from where your hands are connected up the tattooed arm of your companion until he’s able to see the stranger’s face.

No amount of mental preparation could’ve prepared him for this sight.

As if his prior life is flashing before his very eyes, he watches in horror as you reach up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips. Your boyfriend smiles against your mouth in return, chasing your lips with his own before pulling back and moving your hair away from your face.

There is no mistaking the familiar features Taehyung is seeing. Besides maybe the length of his hair and the tattoo sleeve occupying his right arm, everything is identical.

Taehyung scores through his memories for an answer, any explanation for the disturbing scene he's watching. It doesn’t make any sense. The reincarnation spell should’ve only applied to you two. So why are you walking hand-in-hand across the basketball court with the King?

What the fuck is Jungkook doing here?

1422

The spring rainfall gave life to more blooms this season than last, creating a beautiful vision of purple and white in the valley near your home. They’re only wildflowers, but they still spread a sweet fragrance through the air. The sight of the flowers billowing in the wind is picturesque and something you look forward to at the conclusion of every winter.

On the road parallel to the valley, two figures on horseback come into view ahead of the slow-sinking sun. You wave to greet your regular visitors, laughing when you notice one of them speeding up and leaving the other in the dust.

The horse galloping towards you is a familiar sight, and you trust the rider enough to know he’ll stop with plenty of time before he reaches you.

“Jungkook, that was not very nice,” you scold him playfully once he’s close enough to hear you.

Taehyung follows the same path to you on his own steed, a frown evident on his features as he approaches.

“He is never nice!”

“I am always nice,” Jungkook corrects him.

They both dismount gracefully, and you follow your usual routine of walking over to Jungkook’s horse, Bam, and petting him on his forehead. Your fingers gently move down the horse’s face as you coo at him. Bam nudges his muzzle into your hand, making a noise of appreciation at the attention you’re providing him.

Jungkook watches the scene affectionately, his starry eyes following the movement of your hand and the smile that grows on your lips the more you interact with his beloved horse. You don’t see the way his eyes trace over your profile with a smile of his own.

“You can ride him, if you would like,” Jungkook offers.

“What?” You ask, but before he can answer you, Jungkook’s hands are on either side of your waist and he’s lifting you onto the saddle. “Oh, wait, wait!”

Your hands grab onto the saddle to steady yourself, your eyes wide as you look down from the great height.

“Uh, Jungkook —”

“Do not worry, I am holding you. You are not going to fall,” Jungkook states.

You feel his palm on your lower back, and his other hand is petting Bam to keep him calm. It’s unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, feeling the heat of his hand on you, but you don’t want him to see the blush appearing on your cheeks.

“Oh… okay,” you mumble.

Eyes glancing down again, you shut them instantly when you see how high off the ground you are.

“I believe she would still like to get down, Jungkook,” Taehyung comments.

You look down at Jungkook with fearful eyes to confirm Taehyung’s statement. His lips quirk downward in a frown before he grabs you by the waist again and brings your feet safely to the ground.

“I am sorry,” Jungkook tells you, his hands still on your waist. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“You did not scare me,” you say, stepping back so his hands fall away from you. “Bam scares me. Well, not Bam, because he is so sweet, but Bam’s height.”

Jungkook smiles at your explanation, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and it makes you mirror his expression.

“Yeontan would like some attention, too, m’lady,” Taehyung says as walks towards you both, his horse following him by the reins.

“I will be there in a moment,” you say. You pet Bam’s forehead once more before moving to Taehyung’s horse to give him the same affection. “What was the subject of your royal lessons today?”

“Battle strategy,” Jungkook says as he ties Bam to your stable. Taehyung follows suit with Yeontan once you’re done petting him.

Your heartbeat comes to a screeching halt at his answer, and a wave of fear washes over you at the dramatic change of topic for their lessons. Yesterday, they were learning about the proper way to eat soup and which fork should be used first.

Jungkook notices your worried expression and walks towards you. His eyes search yours for the reason you look so frightened as his hand slowly rises to hold your own. You allow him to take it, and you know he can feel the way it shakes in his grasp.

“That is not because you will be heading to battle anytime soon, is it?” You ask him.

The Kingdom is at war with a neighboring country and has been for nearly three years. Despite how long the men have been fighting, there is still no end in sight. It’s been devastating for the Kingdom as men leave their homes and families never to return again. Almost every child in your town is without a father and their mothers are left alone to care for their land and houses.

“No,” Jungkook answers, his hand squeezing your own before letting it go. Relief spreads across your chest and dispels the anxiety pooling in your gut. “Two heirs cannot go to battle at the same time.”

Your friend Jungkook is actually Prince Jungkook, but it’s easy to forget that when he’s teasing you or rolling around in the valley. He’s the younger of two sons, and his brother Junghyun is fighting alongside his father in the war. Since Jungkook isn’t next in line for the throne, he lives life at a slower pace and is more carefree. You appreciate that about him and enjoy taking part in his boyish antics.

Taehyung comes from a long line of knights who have served the crown for generations. Knights begin training at a very young age, and depending on their lineage, their future role is decided long before they complete their training. Taehyung has known he’d eventually be Jungkook’s first knight since childhood. The pair have known each other since they were toddlers and are as close as brothers.

You grew up with both of them because your parents work at the castle and you lived in the staff quarters until you began working yourself. Jungkook’s mother, the Queen, absolutely adores children and believes education is essential to living a good life. As such, she hires tutors to teach the children of all the staff as well as the young knights and royal family. It was during these lessons that you first met Jungkook and Taehyung. The three of you bonded over folktales and your love of animals and quickly became close friends.

Since you no longer live at the castle since becoming a midwife, the two boys come to visit you nearly every day between their daily lessons. The time is usually spent talking about what they learned or which books they’re reading. Sometimes, often in the summertime, the three of you play childhood games in the valley or take a short walk to the river where you can sink your feet into the cool water.

A new anxiety emerges when you remember that the rules which dictate Jungkook’s life are not the same for Taehyung.

“That does not apply to Taehyung, does it?” You question as he comes to stand beside you, too.

“No,” Taehyung says with a grimace. “I could be called upon at any time, but I am not fully trained. I do not believe that will occur unless there are no other options.”

Taehyung spoke too soon, because within a month’s time, he’s visiting you to tell you he has to leave for the battlefront in a fortnight.

Something in you knows as soon as you see him what news he’ll be sharing, but your heart shatters all the same when the words leave his mouth. You cry into your hands as he sits across from you at your kitchen table. He’s your best friend and you know there is a chance you will never see him again once he departs. The fear and sorrow coursing through you are enough to drown you. There is nothing that terrifies you more than losing him or Jungkook.

Taehyung reaches across the table and removes your hands from your face to hold them instead.

“I promise I will come back, Y/N, and when I do… I will take care of you. If you will have me,” he states.

“What?”

“I love you, and I want to marry you,” he confesses.

The thought doesn’t make sense within your mind. Taehyung’s noble status gives him the right to have the pick of the litter in terms of a wife. You don’t even have a dowry you can offer him.

“I do not understand how you could love me,” you respond.

“How could I not?”

He kisses the back of your hands and then rests his cheek against them.

You’re unsure how to respond to his proposal, or if you even should. He’s saying this now because he’s leaving, and you can’t give him an answer when there’s a chance he’ll never return. The reveal of his feelings for you frazels your mind and makes you question everything. So, you decide his proposal is something you’ll organize your thoughts about once he returns, if he returns.

The fortnight passes by both agonizingly slow and too quickly. The anxiety eating away at your nervous system turns the days into long threads of time with no end, but simultaneously, the calendar seems to be skippping ahead multiple days at a time.

When time lands on the third day from his departure, the whispers of a tragedy spread across the land like wildfire.

You hear it first from one of your patients, an expecting mother who you’re checking up on after she fell ill. When she whispers the news to you, your blood runs cold. You don’t believe her initially, but then, as you leave her home, you hear it repeating all around you in the voices of your neighbors.

King Jeon and Prince Junghyun are dead. The father and son perished in a bloody battle which took more than half of your men’s lives.

Whispers in bars and conversations across fields about how the King’s death will affect farming and trade are all you hear in the days following the announcement, but all you can think about is whether or not Jungkook is alright.

Unsurprisingly, you have no visitors until the morning Taehyung is supposed to leave. You watch from your kitchen window as the sunrise breaks over the valley. As the sky goes from deep blue to orange, you hear the familiar sound of horses galloping down the road.

Exiting your house in a flash, you wait for your friends to reach you and dismount before approaching them. You go straight to Jungkook, taking his hands in your own and rubbing over his knuckles with your thumbs.

“I am so, so sorry, Jungkook,” you tell him.

He squeezes your hands in return and a small smile appears on his lips, except it doesn't reach his eyes the way it normally does.

“I am alright,” he assures you. “I will miss them dearly, but it is my mother I truly worry about.”

“If there is anything I can do, please tell me,” you reply. His only response is a nod as Taehyung comes from behind the horses after tying them up. “When do you leave?”

“I am not leaving anymore,” he states. “I have to stay to protect the King.”

“The King?” The dead King?

“Yes, the King,” he parrots, gesturing to Jungkook.

You feel so foolish for forgetting what the consequences of Junghyun’s death really are. Jungkook will now have to take up the mantle of King without anyone ahead of him to guide him into the role.

You gaze at your childhood friend, attempting to imagine him in a crown. A smile appears on your face when you think about how handsome he will look with it sitting atop his pretty black hair. Jungkook is prudent, kind, and compassionate and you know he will make a wonderful ruler.

“Oh,” you say, letting his hands go as you take a step back. It’s one thing to be affectionate with a Prince, it’s another entirely to do so with a King. “Well, I suppose I will be seeing a lot less of you then.”

Jungkook frowns deeply and shakes his head.

“I do not want that,” he responds. “You are important to me and I will make time to visit you regardless.”

You’re sure Jungkook means what he’s saying, and believes it himself, but the odds of it being true are slim to none. A King has to bear the weight of the world and his new role will certainly keep him and Taehyung from visiting you as often.

It feels like goodbye as you wave at them and watch their figures disappear down the road. Your head falls forward and tears fall from your eyes onto the grass. The world is changing too fast for you to keep up.

Despite your worries, Jungkook comes to visit you the next day carrying a bouquet of white roses.

You’ve never been in a carriage before, let alone in one which is currently on its way to the castle. It’s been years since you were last at the monumental estate which houses both your parents and best friends.

As you approach, you notice the familiar grounds where you once played as a child. You see visions of you, Jungkook, and Taehyung running around in circles as they chase you and all at once the memories of your time here come flooding back. The memory of when Jungkook accidentally sent you both flying into one of the fountains brings a smile to your face. You’ll never forget the look on his mother’s face when she saw you both soaked and dripping on the castle floor. And the one of Taehyung picking flowers for you only for them to blow away when a strong wind flew in. He pouted for hours afterwards.

The feeling of returning home brings you comfort amongst all the chaos surrounding you.

The carriage stops in front of the entrance to the castle and you see the massive stone doors which separate the outside world from the home of the royal family. Your parents are already waiting for you along with some fellow staff, their faces giddy with excitement about seeing you. The driver offers you his hand to help you down the steps and once your feet hit the ground, you run straight into your mother’s embrace.

“Oh, honey, we missed you,” she tells you.

“I missed you, too,” you sigh.

A lurching sound indicates the doors are opening and Jungkook and his mother emerge from behind them. Jungkook takes two steps at a time, skipping down the limestone to reach you faster. His mother sighs knowingly at his behavior, a warm smile present on her lips.

“I am happy to see you arrived safely,” he says as he offers you his hand.

You curtsy to his mother, the Queen, who you haven’t seen since in many years now. She’s just as beautiful as you remember, even though her eyes carry a new sadness in them.

“Your Majesty, I am so very sorry about your husband and son,” you say to her.

“I appreciate it, my dear. I am so happy to see you,” she replies. “Let us go inside and I can show you around.”

She hooks her arm around yours and you almost recoil away from her in shock. The Queen is escorting you like an old friend and it defies all the logic in your brain. Even though you grew up here, you have always been well aware of your place in the world.

Your mother and father wave goodbye to the three of you as they report back to their duties. A pair of matching smiles on their faces as they watch you enter the castle.

Once inside, your eyes sweep around the grand entrance and the corridors which splinter away from the room. You notice all the beautiful artwork and intricate architecture of the castle that you didn’t take the time to admire as a child. You were too busy playing and soaking up all the knowledge you could from your tutors.

“I apologize, I have a meeting to attend, if you will excuse me,” Jungkook tells you.

Then, much to your surprise, he takes the back of his hand and runs it along your cheekbone, the softest of smiles present on his face as he does so. Your eyes open in wonder at the gesture, but once he’s turning and walking away from you, a matching smile appears on your lips.

Your skin feels warm where his fingers were, and you avert your eyes from his disappearing figure to try and stop the blush from continuing to spread. When you turn to your left towards the Queen, that knowing, motherly look is back. She just shrugs before turning in the opposite direction to lead you further into the castle.

When Jungkook enters the room the sound of chairs scraping against the stone floor permeates the air. All of the staff, parliamentarians, advisors, and knights stand at attention in the presence of their future King. The knights place their arms across their chest out of respect, including Taehyung, who is sitting to the left of the throne. Not yet being acclimated to the sight, Jungkook gestures for everyone to sit with a wave of his hand before taking his seat next to Taehyung.

The throne to the right of Jungkook, which is reserved for his future Queen, remains empty.

“How is the planning coming along?” Jungkook asks the royal coordinator. He is effectively the head of staff who oversees everything that goes on inside the castle.

“Wonderfully, your Highness. The wedding and coronations will occur subsequently in the chapel three days from now. The Priest is already preparing the sacraments,” the man replies.

“Wedding? Whose wedding?” Taehyung asks as he looks over at Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t get the chance to answer him before a parliamentarian joins the conversation.

“Have you not heard? She is supposed to be arriving today, is that right, your Majesty?”

“Yes.” Jungkook clears his throat before continuing. “Y/N arrived only moments ago and is currently touring the castle with my mother.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung snaps. His whole body turns towards Jungkook, the shock and disbelief distorting his features. Jungkook doesn’t explain or answer, he merely glances at him in warning before continuing the meeting.

When the meeting concludes, the entire room stands at attention again as Jungkook exits. Taehyung follows closely behind and catches up to match Jungkook’s pace.

“You are marrying Y/N?” Taehyung asks incredulously. “When did this happen?”

“Yes, I am,” Jungkook responds flatly. “She will be your Queen soon. You should refrain from calling her by name.”

“What is wrong with you?” Taehyung stops Jungkook with his arm. “I have known you my whole life, you would never do something like this to me.”

“Do to you?”

“Yes, your Highness,” Taehyung says sarcastically. “You know how I feel about her.”

“Things change, Taehyung. Half of my family is dead. I have a role to play that I am nowhere near prepared for. I am sorry if this hurts you, but I have different priorities now; different responsibilities.”

“What do those responsibilities have to do with Y/N?”

Jungkook stops walking again and turns to face his friend, his wall of regality dropping to allow his true emotions to surface.

“Because there is no else I would rather have by my side when I face them,” he answers whole-heartedly. Jungkook doesn’t wait for Taehyung to reply before he continues down the corridor.

When you wake up on the morning of your wedding, you momentarily forget where you are until you see the dazzling wedding dress hanging from the wardrobe. The gown is almost too beautiful to wear, and it stares at you from across the room as if to ask “are you ready for this?” You aren’t sure of the answer.

The sound of knocking steals you away from your thoughts. Assuming it’s the maids coming to help you get ready, you tell them to come in and rise from your bed.

It’s shocking how efficiently the group of women work to turn you into a living, breathing doll. One of them brushes and styles your hair, another puts makeup on you for the first time in your life, and two of them work to get you into your dress.

The dress takes longer to put on you than both the hair and makeup combined. It’s a massive pool of fabric and you can barely tell which end is the top and which is the bottom. You stand with your hands gripping the dresser as both women tug at the strings of the corset and lock you into place. When they finish, you clutch your stomach and attempt to inhale a deep breath. They smile assuredly at you and encourage you to walk around so you can get used to being in such a gown.

Later in the day, you’re alone with one of the maids while she finishes your hair by placing pins in it. A sudden knock interrupts her and she goes to answer it. You aren’t sure who it is until you see her stepping back with wide eyes. Jungkook enters with a slight bow of his head and she immediately curtsies and then proceeds to stand at attention.

Jungkook chuckles nervously, still acclimating himself with everyone’s new behavior towards him.

“Can we have a minute?” He asks her and she obeys with a curt nod before exiting the room.

“Hi,” you greet him.

“You look beautiful,” Jungkook tells you.

“It is none of my doing,” you say. “The maids are amazing at making me look like something I am not.”

“That is not true,” Jungkook argues. “You have always been beautiful, Y/N.” Tilting your head to the right, your nose scrunches and you smile at his compliment. “I wanted to make sure I came to see you before… I know it has been a few days and I apologize, it has been so hectic lately.”

You haven’t seen him since arriving at the castle and he’s certainly a sight for sore eyes. Rising from your seat, you walk to him and take his hands.

“You do not have to worry about me,” you affirm. “I know you have a lot of responsibilities.”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And unfortunately, soon you will, too.”

“Right,” you laugh. “Being the Queen and all.”

The idea is still so foreign to you that it feels unnatural leaving your lips.

“I… I cannot thank you enough for doing this for me, Y/N. I know it is a huge commitment and I am so grateful.”

“Jungkook.” You grip his hands a little tighter and he reciprocates the action. “Why are you acting like I am the one doing you a favor? You asked me to be your Queen, to rule a Kingdom by your side. I should be thanking you.”

Jungkook sighs, his gaze dropping to your connected hands. His thumbs massage over your knuckles absentmindedly.

“I just know this was not the life you envisioned for yourself,” he eventually responds.

“It is not,” you concur. Jungkook frowns and you continue before he gets the wrong idea. “I would say it is better. I loved being a midwife and bringing children into the world, but I grew up here and now I get to spend the rest of my days here.” You squeeze his hands one more time before speaking again. “I am here because I wish to be, Jungkook. Nothing more.”

Jungkook smiles at you and lifts your hands to his lips to kiss them before letting you go and heading for the door.

“I will see you at the altar, my Queen.”

Your dress weighs down on you like a pile of bricks. It’s your first time wearing a gown, and you didn’t anticipate it being this hard to move. Despite the uncomfortability, the lace and fabric cover you beautifully and it’s easy to feel like a Queen when you look down at its design.

When you first enter the chapel, Jungkook’s eyes go wide and his lips part before his expression slowly softens into one of admiration and awe. He saw you only moments ago, but the vision of you coming towards him surrounded by flowers and soft candlelight takes his breath away.

When you see him, you’re equally as stunned. His hair is pushed back away from his forehead, leaving his pretty features as the main focal point. The style makes him look regal and elegant. His wedding attire compliments him in all the right places and the white color accentuates his honey skin. When he visited you before he was still in his normal clothes, so the sight is truly something to behold.

Once you reach the altar, Jungkook stands to the right of you as his left hand holds yours. You’re thankful because if he wasn’t holding your hand the entire room would be able to see it shaking. You know he can feel the movement in his grasp, because every so often he squeezes your fingers. Sometimes he does it twice or three times in a row, and it reminds you of the secret messages you would send to each other across the library during lessons.

In the back corner behind the altar, just on the other side of Jungkook, stands Taehyung, dawning his armor for the first time. It makes you so proud to see him living up to his family’s legacy.

Although, his new uniform isn’t what catches your attention, it’s the deep scowl painting his features into something you’ve never seen before. It makes you look over at him with a face of concern, silently questioning what’s wrong, although, you believe you know the answer already.

Taehyung has every right to be angry with you. He told you he loves you and wants to marry you, and then you accepted a proposal from his best friend. To make matters worse, you weren’t able to tell him about the marriage yourself since you didn’t see him before traveling to the castle. You want to tell him everything, explain your feelings and why you’re standing next to Jungkook today and not him, but the conversation will have to wait.

The wedding ceremony ends with a final prayer before the Priest immediately begins the prayers and readings for the coronation. You and Jungkook turn around to face the crowd and it only heightens your nerves. Jungkook notices the shift in your body language and soothingly runs his thumb up and down your pointer finger. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his hand in return to communicate to him that you’re alright.

At the instruction of the Priest, the two of you kneel down together and wait patiently for the crowns to be placed on your heads.

Jungkook goes first, and you watch in awe as the Priest places a large gold crown onto his head. When he does, a lock of shiny black hair falls onto Jungkook’s forehead. You can’t help but smile, noticing how it somehow makes him look even more handsome. Your best friend is a King now and you have to blink a couple times to stop tears from forming in your eyes.

Only a moment later, the cool metal of a tiara is resting on your hair, the edges of it sinking between your strands to keep it secure. It simply doesn’t feel real and you’re terrified of waking up from this dream come true.

You stand up as one and the entire chapel erupts with cheers and hollers. You and Jungkook make eye contact and both have to suppress a laugh. His eyes are shining with the light of the whole galaxy, and it brings you more happiness than you can put into words.

The celebratory feast commemorating your marriage begins as soon as you leave the chapel. The transition happens so quickly you don’t even get to speak with Jungkook privately before you’re entering the grand ballroom. The large space is ornately decorated and every corner has a giant table of food and wine.

Jungkook never once lets go of your hand.

There is a constant stream of guests greeting and congratulating you, and his touch and presence beside you is the only thing keeping you calm. Jungkook is used to this, and he handles every single encounter with grace. You mostly stumble about and nod as people regale you with kind words and affection.

Taehyung is on your mind the entire night, and your eyes are constantly scanning the massive crowd of people for his familiar head of hair. You want to speak with him as soon as possible to clear the air between you. He’s so important to you and it kills you knowing how much you hurt him. You never find him, and the evening comes to a close before you have a chance to reconcile.

Before you know it, you and Jungkook are traveling in a lavish carriage to begin your honeymoon. The war prevents you from traveling to another country for the occasion, but you’ll still be spending a month at the family’s countryside estate before returning to your regular duties at the castle.

Even though it’s the middle of the night when you arrive, there are staff outside the entrance waiting to greet you and take your luggage.

The head parliamentarian escorts you and Jungkook to the King’s suite. Your hands are shaking again as reality kicks in, but you curl your fingers into your palm to keep anyone from noticing.

The parliamentarian must escort you as well as stand outside your door tonight so he can report back that the marriage has been consummated. The thought of a stranger listening in on your first night with your husband makes your skin crawl, but this is how things are done when you’re royalty.

The man opens the door to the suite so you and Jungkook can enter before shutting it behind you with a slam. Silence overtakes the room as your eyes roam over the walls and windows, the sachet in the corner, and the large bed in the center of the back wall.

You take a shaky breath, itching at your sleeve where the unfamiliar material rubs against you uncomfortably.

Jungkook gets your attention with a call of your name. He points at the artwork on one of the walls, a large painting with a gaudy gold frame encapsulating it.

“What was the artist thinking when they made this one?” He asks through a laugh.

You hum as you study the painting. It’s rather unpleasant to look at, and you can’t even fully make out all the shapes and colors.

“We will have to call upon him to ask,” you respond. “I do not think one could guess if they tried.”

Jungkook laughs and the familiar sound eases your mind and calms your nerves a little. You keep reminding yourself that it’s just him, someone you’ve known all your life, but your brain still persists with its overthinking.

You mosey around the room and peruse more of the artwork and decor before falling onto the bed with a plop. Despite your best efforts, your gown is too heavy and large to sit down normally. You’re half laying-half sitting on the mattress as your feet dangle over the edge. The fabric pools all around you and threatens to drown you in white lace.

Jungkook joins you on the bed, but leaves a decent amount of space between you.

“I am unsure if I know how to get this monstrosity off of me,” you admit with a scoff.

Reaching over your shoulder, you tug at the ribbon caging you into the gown. When you aren’t able to loosen it yourself, Jungkook clears his throat, raising his eyebrows and gesturing towards you to ask permission. You let your hands fall back onto your lap before answering him with a nod of your head.

Jungkook kneels behind you on the bed so he can begin loosening the ties of the corset. You jump when you first feel his hands brush against you. He moves slowly, his touch as light as a feather as he unties the knot and begins to weave the ribbon back and forth to remove it. Once he’s about halfway done, the tension releases from around your waist and you take your first unimpeached breath of the day.

“Oh, thank you,” you sigh. You watch curiously as Jungkook stands to face you and reaches his hands out for you to take. “What?”

“Stand up and I will help you out of it,” he replies.

You obey quickly, standing up while holding the fabric to your chest so it doesn’t fall away. Jungkook laughs when he notices the action.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I cannot get you out of it if you are holding it up, my darling.”

The deep timbre of his voice as he uses the pet name is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Right,” you reply and let go.

Maybe Jungkook isn’t as nervous as you, or maybe he just hides it well. As a woman, you are completely untouched, your own hand being your only source of pleasure so far. But the rules are different for men and Jungkook may not be as shy about these things as you are.

The dress falls into a heap on the floor and Jungkook takes your hands to hold you steady as you step out of the large skirt one foot at a time. Even with your body still covered by your underdress, this is the most exposed you’ve ever been to another person. The raw vulnerability causes your hands to start shaking again, but you let go of Jungkook before he can notice.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, thank you so much,” you respond.

Jungkook grabs the expansive amount of fabric and places it gently over one of the dressers. You return to your spot on the bed and he follows suit, this time sitting a bit closer to you.

A weighted tension creeps into the room like fog across the morning air. It beckons a silence between you that leaves only your breathing as background noise. There’s a feeling of anticipation floating around as well, like the whole atmosphere is on edge and waiting to see what happens next.

“How do you feel now that everything is done?” Jungkook asks.

“Hmm, I am happy, but also nervous,” you admit.

“Me, too,” he replies.

“You are? I figured you would be used to this.”

“It is not the royal aspect I am nervous about.”

“What are you nervous about then?”

Jungkook chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, ruining the style and bringing his black locks down onto his forehead. It makes him look boyish and charming.

“Not only did I go from being a Prince to a King in a matter of days, but I am a husband now, too. Your husband,” he explains. He looks down and sighs, his eyes closing momentarily. “I want to do right by you, Y/N.”

“You have always done right by me, Jungkook, I do not see that changing anytime soon,” you reassure him.

There’s a lull in the conversation, but the tension is slowly dissipating and morphing into a comforting aura instead.

“Hmm, I am so glad it is you. I cannot imagine how anxious I would be if it was anyone else,” Jungkook states.

“Is that why you asked me?” You probe him. “Because I am familiar to you?”

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. You raise your eyebrows at him when he doesn’t add anything else to his answer. He chuckles and licks his lips. “I asked because I wanted to marry you. Simple as that.”

His eyes meet yours and the ever-present stars and sincerity in them make you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

“Why?” You whisper. You fear if you speak too loud it will ruin the moment.

Jungkook tilts his head and tongues his cheek.

“You know I am not good with my words,” he says. “Can I show you instead?”

“Show me?”

Jungkook nods as his hand twists around your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. You stand to better adjust your position, but then he pulls you into his lap, holding you by the backs of your thighs so he can place them on either side of his own. The sudden movement makes you gasp and hold onto his shoulders for support.

Being this close to him is startling, but feeling him beneath you is as comforting as a warm bath after a long day of work. You wonder how you ever went this long without touching him like this in the first place.

Jungkook’s hand caresses your jaw as he looks into your eyes. You can see the cogs turning in his mind as he assesses whether or not you’re comfortable with his touch.

His hand is bigger than your entire cheek and the feeling of his skin on yours makes your eyes shut in pleasure. You feel his thumb gently moving back and forth across your cheekbone and you sigh happily.

“Jungkook,” you murmur. “That feels so nice.”

“It does?” You nod your head with your eyes still closed. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook’s chuckle forces your eyes open. There are crinkles around his eyes as his gazes at you from mere inches away. He looks so pretty up close.

“We have to appease the man outside at some point tonight, so I am asking you if you would like me to keep making you feel nice,” he explains.

Your mouth snaps shut as the overwhelming anxiety from earlier begins to burrow inside you again. There is no doubt your body wants your husband, wants Jungkook, as you can feel a tightness in your thighs you’ve only experienced during self exploration before, but it’s all so nerve wracking that you can’t bring yourself to answer him.

“I… I have never, I —”

“I know, my darling,” he responds. His thumb moves across your cheek again before he leans in and presses a kiss to the other one. He lets his lips linger there for a moment before coming back to face you. “Was that alright?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Alright, how about I keep going and you tell me if you want me to stop,” he suggests.

You only nod in response, not trusting your own voice to get your thoughts across clearly.

Jungkook leans in and kisses the same spot before moving down your face, pressing his lips to every inch of skin he comes in contact with. When he reaches your jaw, he lets his tongue drag across you and it pulls a gasp from your throat. He kisses you even harder when he gets to your neck, his lips and tongue moving slowly against your delicate skin before sucking over your pulse point.

“Oh,” you gasp at the unfamiliar sensation. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan. You don’t recognize the tone of your own voice.

“Still feel nice, my Queen?” His words dance across the wet spot he’s left on your neck.

“Yes, my King,” you answer breathlessly.

He continues to kiss across your neck and the exposed area on your shoulder while his hand moves away from your face to caress your body. Starting at your shoulder, he traces your outline slowly until he reaches your hip, where his other hand already resides on the opposite side.

His lips leave your neck and a whimper escapes you involuntarily. Jungkook smiles and rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

You giggle at him being chivalrous enough to ask when he was just painting your neck in his saliva.

“Yes, of course.”

Jungkook kisses you tentatively, so gentle with the pressure of his lips that you almost don’t feel it. You can tell he’s hesitant and doesn’t want to scare you, but when you feel his lips on yours for the first time, your own hesitation melts away.

Your hands leave his shoulders to wrap around his neck as he moves his lips in a slow rhythm against your own. It sends sparks throughout your entire body and makes the feeling in your thighs even more distracting. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him so your chests touch. His hands flex against your back as he moves them up and down to feel you.

You begin kissing him back as you get the hang of things, mirroring his movements and turning your head to gain better access. Jungkook’s hand sinks into your hair and you moan into his mouth when you feel his fingers on your scalp. The kiss is slow and sensual and you already feel more in your loins than you ever have when pleasuring yourself.

“Jungkook,” you speak when you come up for air. “I need more.”

Jungkook smiles adoringly at you and kisses you once more before lifting you off his lap and standing up. He takes his first layers of clothing off without ever breaking eye contact with you. It has your thighs rubbing together as you watch his fingers pop open buttons and untie laces.

Once he matches you in his state of undress, he gestures to you to come closer with his pointer finger. You obey instantly, not wanting to wait another moment to feel him against you again.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” He asks once you’re standing inches from him. You nod. “Good.”

“Have you… done this before?” Jungkook frowns at your question, and you know he doesn’t want to disappoint you with his reply. “I will not be upset, I promise.”

“I have,” he answers.

“Will you show me, then? I want to make you feel nice, too,” you ask quietly.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth quirks up and he nods in affirmation. His hands reach out to caress your waist before he turns you around so your back is pressed against his chest. The movement has you gasping, but it morphs into a moan when his lips return to your neck.

He sits again, bringing you with him. He spreads your legs overtop his own which completely opens you up for him. It makes your heart race and your nerves come alive, but you push the anxiety away to continue enjoying his touch.

His hand catches the bottom hem of your underdress and slowly moves it up until your undergarments are exposed to the air. You gasp and grip Jungkook’s forearm when his palm comes to rest over your center. He isn’t touching you yet, necessarily, but you can still feel your core pulsing in anticipation.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers directly into your ear.

“Always,” you reply without missing a beat.

Jungkook hooks his fingers in your undergarment and you lift your hips just enough for him to remove it from your body. The cool air against your wetness sends shivers down your spine.

The initial feeling of Jungkook gently tracing your folds makes you jump in his arms. He shushes you quietly before continuing his ministrations, adding more pressure as his fingers spread your essence around. His hand moves upwards until he’s touching your swollen nub and a loud moan escapes from your mouth.

Your hand covers your mouth in response, your eyes wide in shock of a noise like that coming from you. Jungkook chuckles warmly from behind you.

“No, no,” he says, removing your hand from your face. “They are supposed to hear us, anyway. Do not muffle your noises. I want to hear everything, my Queen.”

Jungkook presses down on your clit and your moan again without restraint. He uses the wetness he collects on his fingers to massage you in your most sensitive spot and it makes your head spin. You’re certain if he wasn’t holding you, your knees would give out. They’re the same motions you use on yourself and yet his fingers make it feel so much more intense. It’s incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced before in your life.

He retreats back into your folds to spreads them apart before pushing his middle finger into your hole. You gasp again, your nails digging into his skin where you’re still holding onto his arm.

“Is this okay?”

You nod repeatedly in response. It is more than okay. It feels so heavenly you wonder if you’re about to meet God himself.

Jungkook’s finger moves in and out of your hole slowly, a squelching sound accompanying each slide of his appendage. Before long, he adds his ring finger and fucks you with them both, stretching your hole open for the first time.

“Oh, God,” you moan as your head falls to his shoulder. “That… that is amazing, my King.”

Jungkook presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving his lips there as he continues to fuck you slowly with his fingers. He presses his palm down so it meets your clit as his hand moves against you. Your moans are short and high pitched, happening in quick succession now as your orgasm nears.

Your husband picks up the pace, moving his fingers faster and sending them deeper into your pussy. Every time he enters you he reaches a spongy spot inside your walls that has you reeling from the pleasure.

Not only are you focusing on your own ecstasy, but you can feel him hardening beneath you and it makes you want him even more. There is a deep, instinctual need inside you to provide him the same pleasure he is giving you.

“I want you to come for me, my darling,” Jungkook whispers before kissing your neck again. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I am so close,” you respond.

The words have barely left your lips when you feel your orgasm crashing over you like a wave with a high pitched scream that barely sounds like yourself. Jungkook continues to pump his fingers into you as you shake in his arms and your pussy convulses around him.

It’s the most euphoric thing you’ve ever felt and it’s almost too overwhelming to bear. Your thighs are still shaking even once he removes his fingers. You watch with wide eyes as he slips them into his mouth to suck your juices off.

“Jung — mmhf.”

He cuts you off with a kiss, gripping your jaw to keep your face where it is. You moan into each other’s mouths as you devour one another passionately. Jungkook leans you both back, the two of you crashing to the bed with him above you. Leaving your lips for only a moment, Jungkook reaches down to grab the hem of your dress and pull it over your head.

It leaves you completely bare before him and on instinct you go to cover your chest and stomach. Jungkook smiles affectionately at your shyness, but he doesn’t scold you, just laces his fingers with yours and moves your hands away from your body.

“I want to see you, too,” you say as you look into his deep brown eyes.

Jungkook obliges you silently, stretching up and removing his top before kneeling to remove his pants, leaving him with only a single garment covering his manhood.

“Better?”

You nod and reach up to bring his face to yours again. He lovingly traces over your figure beneath him, moving his hands over your waist, hips, shoulders, and arms. It feels as though he is trying to map you in your entirety. His big hands complete their exploration by grabbing both of your breasts and massaging them. You moan, your head falling back against the bed and opening your neck up for him to kiss again.

He doesn’t stay there long before moving lower and kissing across your tits as he squeezes them. His lips latch onto your nipple and you gasp, you hand gripping his black hair in response. He sucks and licks over the nub of your left breast before moving to the right. The sensation has you going mad and it makes your hips buck up against his own.

When you do, you feel how hard his cock has become. Your hand sneaks down and you grab him over his garment, pushing your palm gently against his bulge.

“Oh, darling,” he gasps. You laugh happily at his reaction, feeling accomplished that you’re pleasuring him as well.

“Is this alright?” You ask as you bat your eyelashes.

“It is… so much more than alright. Please do not stop,” he begs you.

You continue the same movement, applying more pressure as Jungkook’s head falls to your shoulder, pressing soft kisses on your skin as he moans.

Feeling more confident now, you stop your movements to remove his undergarment. He stares at your hands as they reveal his body to you. A shuddering breath pushes past your lips when you see your husband’s cock for the first time.

“Oh,” you say as your voice drops an octave.

Jungkook is what you can only assume is large. It’s certainly bigger than the penises you’ve seen in art and statues, but you have no real life comparison. He’s long and thick, with large veins running down his shaft. You don’t think your fingers will touch if you wrap your hand around him.

Jungkook chuckles and raises your head to meet his eyes.

“Do not worry. I will make sure you are ready before you take me,” he assures you.

“How will you do that?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond verbally, he simply maneuvers you both to the center of the bed before sinking down so his face is in front of your cunt. He leans down to kiss and bite along the supple skin of your thighs as he makes his way to where you’re leaking for him already.

His eyes bore into yours when he finally reaches your center and his tongue leaves his mouth for a tentative lick along your folds. You break his eye contact with a loud and deep moan as your head tips back and hits the pillows beneath you.

“Oh, my King,” you sigh in ecstasy.

Your husband wastes not a single second more, his tongue flattening against your hole and licking up the essence that’s collected there. Your legs shake where they rest next to his head and your nails dig into the sheets, twisting them in your grasp.

Jungkook is relentless, despite your body already showing signs of oversensitivity. His tongue slides through your folds as he kisses your cunt and moans into you. Then he moves to lick your clit and suck it into his mouth, before returning again to fuck his tongue into you. While his mouth is abusing your hole he uses his nose to create friction on your swollen nub. Everything he does sends shockwaves through your entire being and you feel like your consciousness is no longer on the earth.

You come again faster than you can even register, your thighs locking around Jungkook’s head as you whole body spasms. Jungkook doesn’t stop, though, even once your breathing begins to return to normal. He continues on as if you didn’t reach a climax at all. It sends your body into overdrive and you gasp at the painful pleasure that shoots through your core.

Hands finding his hair, you tug on the strands as your hips move to meet his mouth. He groans against you, nodding as if to tell you to keep going. You do, your pussy rubbing against his face while he licks your cum away.

Everything about it is downright filthy and yet it creates the most wonderful feeling to ever course through your veins.

Jungkook’s mouth moves against you like he knows your body better than you do. His tongue only laps at you a couple more times before another orgasm hits you, and it causes you to gasp and moan pathetically as your hips gyrate against him. He finally comes up for air once he feels your body still, his head resting on your thigh as he kisses it softly.

“Did that feel good, my darling?” Jungkook asks with a smile. His pink lips are swollen and shiny with your essence.

“You have no idea,” you pant, each word coming out across an exhale.

Jungkook’s smile grows exponentially and he comes up to meet you at your lips again. You can taste yourself on him and it makes you moan into his kiss.

“Are you ready, my Queen?”

His eyes peer into your own when he asks and you can tell he wants to see you so he knows whether you truly are or not.

“Well, what about you?”

“You do not need to worry about me,” he tells you.

“But I want to,” you argue. “I want to pleasure you, my King. I want to give you everything.”

Jungkook pauses your conversation as his eyes search yours for something.

“Are you saying that because you think it is your duty?”

“No.”

“Then —”

“I am saying it because it is how I feel about you, Jungkook. It has nothing to do with duty.”

Jungkook sighs and kisses the tip of your nose. You can’t help but blush, the gentle affection warming your heart and making you smile up at him.

“I would love nothing more, my darling,” he tells you. “But I think we should save that for another day. Truthfully, I need to be inside you or I will go mad.”

His words spread heat throughout your entire body.

“Is that so?”

The smirk currently occupying your lips isn’t there for long because Jungkook kisses it away. A dreamy sigh comes from you as your tongues meet for a lazy dance inside your mouth. You could kiss him forever if given the chance. The taste of his lips and the feel of them against your own has you completely hypnotized.

Jungkook uses the distraction of his kiss to line himself up with your core, gently running the tip of his cock through your folds and then spreading your cum down his shaft to lubricate his skin. Your pussy reacts immediately, clenching around nothing and leaking more cum onto your thighs. When he’s ready, he nuzzles his nose against yours and kisses your cheek.

“This may hurt,” he warns you.

“I know,” you smile reassuringly. “I will be alright.”

“You will tell me if you are uncomfortable at all, yes?”

“Yes, darling,” you reply in a mock-tone of his deep voice. He beams at you, his eyes disappearing for a moment before giving you one final peck.

Jungkook enters you slowly, letting just his head push past your tight circle of nerves before waiting to make sure you’re alright. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as your pussy stretches to accommodate him. It isn’t as painful as you expected, more so a tight pressure within your walls. You nod reassuringly at him once you’ve adjusted and he continues gently until his hips meet yours and his cock is nestled up against your cervix.

You gasp at the full intrusion, your lips kissing his shoulder and biting down on the muscle to relieve the foreign ache.

“Try to relax, darling, it will help,” he coos in your ear.

Taking multiple deep breaths, you close your eyes and wait for the pressure to subside. Once it does, you’re mesmerized by the pleasure. Jungkook’s cock throbs inside you and he’s so thick that you can feel every ridge and vein pressing against your walls.

“Okay,” you say, looking into Jungkook’s eyes and brushing his hair away from his face. He still looks hesitant, raising his eyebrows at you confirm you’re truly ready. You answer him with a kiss and he smiles against your mouth.

Jungkook rears back slowly, never once looking away from you to ensure you’re alright, and then sinks back in. You moan when he enters you again, this time feeling nothing but pleasure and euphoria. His tip repeatedly hits the same spot inside you and it makes you see stars as your eyes roll back.

His body hovers over yours, his forearms holding him steady. Your hands are in his hair and around his neck, tugging on the strands in time with his movements. He grabs your leg to bring it higher around his hip and thrusts into you even deeper. Your moans tangle together in the air between you along with the wet sound of his cock entering you over and over. Jungkook is fucking you like his life depends on it, like is whole life has lead to this very moment. He kisses your shoulder and neck and sucks on your earlobe before finally coming back to your lips to ravish your mouth.

Consummation of marriage doesn’t seem like the right term for this act anymore, it’s too exquisite to be described in such a mundane way.

You gaze up at Jungkook as he watches his cock come out of you and go back in again. He groans at the sight, throwing his head back, and you run your hand down his sharp jaw to grab his attention.

“I love you,” you tell him, despite how terrified you are for him to finally know the truth. His eyes go wide, his mouth opening and shutting again when he can’t find the right words to reply. You smile at his reaction, finding it utterly adorable how you’ve stunned him into silence. “I love you, my King, my husband… my Jungkook.”

Jungkook blinks repeatedly and you can see tears pricking at the corners of his starry eyes, which only makes yours do the same. He maps your face with his eyes as he relishes in your confession. His head shakes in disbelief, but then he smiles and breathes out a laugh.

“I love you, Y/N,” he finally responds. “My Queen, you have no idea how long I have loved you.”

He kisses you again, this time so ardently it steals your breath right from your lungs. His thrusts speed up while your mouths chase each other, the emotions swirling inside you both making you even needier. Your nails rake down his back in red streaks as he pistons into you and grinds against your hips.

“M’close, my love,” he tells you with a kiss to your neck.

“Give me a child, Jungkook,” you reply. “Fill up my womb, please.”

Jungkook groans extensively into the skin of your neck as his pushes your hips deeper into the bed so he can fuck you harder. One his hands sneaks between your bodies to massage your clit, making sure you are on the same precipice as he is.

You come together, loud moans filling the air as your pussy spasms and squeezes Jungkook’s cock inside your walls. Warmth spreads through you as his cum fills you up and he fucks it deeper into you. Gasping at how utterly full you feel, you go to move until Jungkook stops you with a squeeze to your hip.

“Not yet,” he whispers. “I do not want you to lose a single drop.”

The thought of Jungkook’s seed sitting deep inside your womb and him refusing to pull out to keep it there has you moaning all over again.

You whine at the feeling of emptiness that overtakes you when he does finally leave the warmth of your cunt. You’re in delirium from all the climaxes and pleasure your husband gave to you and you can barely keep your eyes open.

Jungkook cleans away any excess fluid from between your legs with a rag before tucking you in and joining you in the bed. He kisses you goodnight with a peck to your lips and forehead before telling you he loves you again. You are already halfway asleep, but make an attempt to tell him the same nonetheless.

The honeymoon gets extended to three months, simply because Jungkook refuses to share you with anyone else; completely content with having you all to himself for just a while longer. Now that the feelings you were both hiding for so long are out in the open, you want to enjoy your time together without reality sneaking its way in.

When you do finally return, you’re very much pregnant. Initially, you and Jungkook decide to keep it a secret, but then his mother notices the small bump over your womb and practically shouts the news from the rooftop of the castle. Your mother and father are absolutely elated and everytime they even glance at you tears of joy well up in their eyes.

Your pregnancy is celebrated all throughout the Kingdom with festivals and parades, but there’s one person you never hear congratulations from. In fact, you barely see him around the many halls and rooms which surround you, as if he’s merely a myth your mind conjured up.

Once you do see Taehyung, it’s a far cry from the reunion you were hoping for. All he does is bow to you before continuing on down the corridor. His eyes don’t even meet yours and his expression is stone cold and empty. Your heart absolutely shatters in two and you find solace in the library to cry the ache away.

Jungkook finds you before anyone else does, his eyes going wide when he sees you slumped over with your head in your hands.

“Darling?” He crouches down before you and pulls your head up by your chin. “My love, what is wrong? Is it something with the baby?”

“No,” you cry and shake your head. “Taehyung… he will not even look at me.”

Jungkook frowns and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.

“Just give him some time,” he tells you.

You shake your head again.

“No, I need to speak to him. I have to tell him why I accepted your proposal and not his,” you explain.

“Taehyung proposed to you?” Jungkook asks, shock evident in his tone.

“Yes, when he came to tell me he was leaving for the war,” you state. “He told me he would come back and marry me, but I did not give him an answer.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have only ever loved you, Jungkook.”

Just as you feared, time does nothing to bridge the gap between you and your best friend.

The war ends six months into your pregnancy, and even as all the residents of the castle gather in the ballroom for a celebratory feast, he utters not a single word to you. When you give birth a few months later, your relationship is still not mended and you fear it never will be.

PRESENT DAY

Taehyung thinks he’s going to throw up. His hands are sweaty and shaking, his internal temperature is dropping, and his leg won’t stop bouncing against the bleachers. Despite all that, he can’t bring himself to peel his eyes away from you and Jungkook as you enter the gym together.

Jungkook’s fingers are laced with yours as you walk just ahead of him. Your smile is so bright when you glance back at him momentarily and all Taehyung can think is that you don’t know. You have no idea you’re holding hands with your own killer.

Once you reach the other cheerleaders you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck and hug him. He smiles at your embrace and nuzzles his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder, pecking your cheek before letting you go. You mouth “I love you” to him and his smile grows as he repeats the phrase back to you. As if it could get worse, Jungkook taps your ass before walking towards the locker room. You don’t even turn around to scold him, just playfully slap his hand as he laughs and leaves you with your teammates.

Bile threatens to scratch Taehyung's esophagus as he watches Jungkook stroll away from you and disappear into the locker room. He hopes no one notices his staring problem, but it’s impossible for him to look away from the reincarnation of his former best friend.

This shouldn’t be possible and yet he can’t deny what’s right in front of his own eyes.

A buzzer pulls Taehyung from his thoughts and the game begins with introductions of both teams. You’re standing courtside in your usual spot at the center of the formation. You cheer as they announce all the players and you yell even louder when they announce Jungkook, after which he winks at you and returns to his position on the court.

The irony of a former King and Queen being reincarnated as the captain of the cheerleading squad and the captain of the basketball team doesn’t escape Taehyung. Because what else would they be?

Taehyung would love nothing more than to enjoy the game and cheer along with the rest of the crowd, but his mind is slowly spiraling into madness.

He needs to find out if Jungkook remembers his past life or not.

If Jungkook does have his memories, that means he’s dating you when he knows what he did and you don’t. Taehyung’s face scrunches in disgust at the thought. He would have to be getting off on it if that’s the case, of knowing he has you back in his clutches while you’re clueless.

On the other hand, if Jungkook doesn’t remember his last life, then you two are clearly drawn together by some other force of nature that Taehyung isn’t aware of. Perhaps this is just the way your fates are always meant to align, with you and Jungkook together while Taehyung has to come in and save you from him. At least this time Jungkook doesn’t have the authority to murder you.

The biggest question of the night is still how.

Sometime before you and Taehyung were killed, he sought out a sorceress to cast a protection spell. The spell was simple, but it could only be cast on one of you, so Taehyung made the decision to cast it on you instead of himself. It read:

The person you love will follow you into the next life, and with a kiss, your memories will be returned to you.

Taehyung chose the spell because he wanted you and him to get a do-over in case something bad happens to you. The only requirement of the spell is that you have to die together, or at least in quick succession to one another. Since that prerequisite was met, you were reincarnated and he has knowledge of his past life.

Jungkook being here adds a wrench of astronomical proportions to his plans and makes him wonder if Jungkook cast a spell of his own before he killed you. Maybe he got wind of what Taehyung had done and decided to add himself into the mix.

He may never find out, especially if Jungkook is truly clueless to who he was before.

When the game ends, Taehyung watches with a clenched jaw as Jungkook scoops you into his arms and lifts you off the ground. You giggle as he does it and the sound is so beautiful it almost brings tears to Taehyung’s eyes. He can practically feel the happiness radiating from you as Jungkook kisses you before setting you back down on the floor.

It feels like the past is haunting him and laughing in his face. The image of you two before him is so familiar he can almost picture you in your wedding gown instead of your uniform.

You and Jungkook hold hands again as you converse with all the students coming over to congratulate the team on their big win. Taehyung knows it’s now or never and makes his way down to greet you two.

“Taehyung!” You wave at him with your free hand.

Jungkook looks up to follow your line of sight. He doesn’t look stunned by the sound of Taehyung’s name and his eyes don’t go wide when he spots him amongst the crowd, so that must be a good sign.

“Hey,” Taehyung says as he steps in front of you.

“Taehyung, this is Jungkook and Jungkook, this is Taehyung,” you introduce the two boys.

Taehyung could laugh out loud at the irony of it.

“Hey man, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Jungkook says as he shakes Taehyung’s hand. “Y/N has told me all about you. I’m glad she finally has someone to study with who doesn’t distract her.”

“You mean yourself?” You say, turning to him with a smirk.

He teasingly blows a kiss at you and your head tilts to the right, accompanied by your usual nose scrunch and smile combo.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Taehyung says with a forced smile. If he could go a hundred lives without ever meeting Jungkook again, he would. “She talks about you a lot, as well. The mysterious boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I wish we could’ve met sooner. This one says we would get along great,” Jungkook explains.

He moves behind you to rest his arms over your shoulders, his chin meeting your hair. Your fingers absentmindedly trace his tattoos where his arms hang over your chest. Taehyung’s eyes follow every movement and he has to fight not to lose his mind at the displays of affection.

“You think so?” Taehyung asks you and you nod repeatedly.

“Oh, yeah,” you answer. “I don’t know what it is, I can just tell you’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Well, we should all hang out sometime and see if she’s right,” Taehyung suggests.

He only does so because he needs to know for sure about Jungkook’s memories. If he can find ways to test him and possibly trip him up, he will.

“I’m always right,” you argue.

“Mmhm, sure you are, my love,” Jungkook says as he kisses your shoulder before standing back up to his full height and taking your hand.

Taehyung almost visibly recoils at the sound of one of Jungkook’s old pet names for you.

“We have to get going to the team’s celebration dinner, but I’ll text you and maybe we can plan something with the three of us?” You propose.

You go to grab your bag but Jungkook is already slinging it over his shoulder. When you notice, you smile and slap his arm playfully.

“Yeah, sounds great,” Taehyung responds.

Jungkook waves goodbye and you follow suit before you’re both turning around and heading for the door. You lay your head on Jungkook’s bicep as you walk and he bends over to kiss the top of your head.

Taehyung throws his head back with a groan. He’s waited hundreds of years and spent the last 20 or so looking for you only to find you in Jungkook’s arms yet again. He wants to have a word with the universe so he can really speak his mind on the matter.

You text him a couple days later inviting him to a party with some athletes at an off-campus house. It isn’t ideal, but he needs to get as close to you as possible if this is ever going to work.

The familiar stench of cheap beer and marijuana is already infiltrating Taehyung’s nostrils as he enters. In fact, he walks right through someone’s puff cloud and coughs his whole way into the house. Once inside, he grabs a strong drink from the kitchen and starts searching for you.

When he finds you, you’re facing his direction while closing one eye to better aim your ping pong ball. Jungkook is opposite you, his back to Taehyung, as everyone waits with bated breath for the outcome of your shot.

You toss the ping pong ball with precision and it bounces once on the table before sinking right in the center cup. Throwing your hands up to cheer, your proud eyes find Jungkook’s to validate your accomplishment even though he’s on the opposing team.

“Ha! Take that, Kook,” you tease.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you that one,” Jungkook responds as he grabs the ball from the cup and downs the drink. “But it’s the last one you’re going to get, baby.”

Jungkook is much quicker than you with his aim and sinks his ball into the matching cup on your side of the table. He puts his arms out and shrugs when you pout in his direction. Rolling your eyes, you chug the beer before setting the cup to the side.

Taehyung stands to the side to watch the rest of the beer pong tournament and unfortunately for you, Jungkook was right, and you never land a ball in one of his cups again.

When the game ends you sulk your way over to Jungkook, making a show of crossing your arms over your chest and pouting at him. Taehyung has to look away when he notices Jungkook bending down to kiss the pout away. By the time he looks back, Jungkook has his arm around your shoulders and yours is around his waist.

“Oh, Tae, hi!” You shout when you notice him. “Oh wait, can I call you that?”

“Of course,” Taehyung replies with a smile. “Hey Jungkook.”

“Hey, what’s up? Glad you could make it,” Jungkook says.

“You know I think the rules of boyfriendship say you’re supposed to let your girlfriend win at these things,” Taehyung points out.

“See! What did I say?”

You look up at Jungkook, the pout returning with a vengeance.

Jungkook squishes your cheeks between his fingers and coos at you mockingly. You giggle and your eyes squeeze shut before pushing him away with a gentle shove to his chest.

“I never let anyone win,” Jungkook states.

I am fully aware.

“It’s true, he’s stupid competitive, but he’s also magically good at fucking everything, so it kinda works in his favor,” you explain.

“I bet I could beat you at something,” Taehyung says casually.

Jungkook’s eyebrows move up his forehead, a big toothy grin appearing on his face.

“Am I finally about to face a worthy opponent?” He asks rhetorically, his voice pitching up with eagerness. “What’s your game, Taetae?”

Taetae?

Taehyung is almost tempted to ask Jungkook to slice his neck open again. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to feign nicety when all he wants to do is punch the guy. Whether he has his memories or not, he’s still the only obstacle left standing in Taehyung’s path to you.

“Um,” Taehyung scopes out the landscape of the house. “Darts?”

Jungkook nods, pursing his lips as he thinks and gazes at the dart board.

“I can do darts,” he replies.

You leave to grab more drinks while they stroll over to the empty corner where the dart board is hanging. Jungkook pulls the darts from the board and tosses some to Taehyung before stepping back behind the duck tape marking the floor. He gestures with his hands for Taehyung to go first.

“So, I don’t want to make anything awkward, but I feel like I have to give you the obligatory ‘don’t try anything with my girl’ speech,” Jungkook says after Taehyung has thrown his first dart. “Not to say you guys can’t hang out because I’m not like that. She can do whatever she wants. I just like to let guys know that I mean business, ya know?”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung asks.

“I mean that I’m head over heels in love and would do just about anything to keep her next to me,” Jungkook states. He aims quickly and throws his first dart. “As long as she wants me, of course.”

“And if she didn’t… want you, I mean, would you fight for her?” Taehyung continues before taking his next throw.

“Of course I would,” Jungkook responds with a shrug, as if it’s the easiest answer in the world. “She means everything to me.”

Taehyung can hear the sincerity in Jungkook’s voice and it reflects in his eyes, too, even in the dim lighting.

“I hear you, Jungkook. Loud and clear,” Taehyung says before gesturing for Jungkook to take his next shot. “How did you guys meet anyway?”

Jungkook takes a sip from his cup before throwing his next dart, the guy barely has to look at the board and he still hits a bullseye. Some things never change.

“The weekend before freshman orientation all the athletes move in early and have this big mixer,” Jungkook explains. “She took my fucking breath away from across the room, but we were actually friends for a long time before we started dating.”

“Why is that?” Taehyung throws his last dart and then leans against the nearby railing.

“Well, honestly, I wanted to try out the whole ‘soil your oats’ thing when I first got to college, but then the more time I spent with her, the more I couldn’t get her off my mind. I never even touched another girl the whole year, even before we got together.”

“Baby, I brought drinks!” Your sweet voice rings out before they can continue their conversation.

Jungkook turns around at the sound of it, a huge smile on his face even though you’ve only been gone a couple minutes.

“Oh, thanks, Princess.”

He greets you with a kiss as he takes the beer bottle from your hand.

Taehyung has to hide the way his teeth grind together at the nickname. He hates how ironic it is given that you were never a Princess, only a Queen, because you were shoved into a role you never asked for by your so-called best friend.

His inner monologue is interrupted when you hand him a beer bottle as well. He thanks you with a bow of his head before turning back to the game. Jungkook throws his last dart and then leans forward to count up the points.

“Oh, you guys are tied,” you say with a smile. “Looks like someone’s giving you a run for your money, Kook.”

“It appears so,” he responds. “I think you were right about me and Taetae, we’re gonna be great friends.”

Taehyung’s head tilts at the tiny lick of sarcasm in Jungkook’s voice. He doesn’t think you notice it, though, since you’re still smiling at your boyfriend like he hung the stars in the sky.

There isn’t a second round because you tug on Jungkook’s hand and ask him to dance with you instead. He obliges your request without hesitation, already moving towards the other room while you wave goodbye to Taehyung. Once you’re gone, Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair and looks at the dart board with matching scores. Figures.

He doesn’t see you again until much later after he’s had a little too much to drink. When he does, he immediately regrets coming to look for you.

Jungkook is pinning you against the wall as he kisses you slowly, his mouth moving against yours like he has all the time in the world. His knee is between your thighs and he’s caressing your waist beneath your shirt. You make out hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth while you bite on his lower lip. Jungkook grips your jaw and kisses your neck, sucking on your skin and making you whimper. Your hands run up his back and grip tightly onto his jacket.

“Kook,” you moan. “Upstairs.”

Jungkook nods at your command from where his face is still against your neck. Without missing a beat, he takes your hand and leads you around the corner to the back stairwell. Taehyung can hear your giggles as you two run up the stairs together.

Taehyung actually does get sick this time. It’s a mixture of the alcohol and his mind agonizing over the thought of you two in a bedroom alone together. His knuckles turn white as he grips the edge of the toilet bowl he’s currently bent over.

Jungkook shouldn’t get to touch you like that, shouldn’t get to hold you or kiss you after what he did.

Taehyung’s eyes snap shut as the memory of you clutching your bleeding neck flashes in his mind. He presses his knuckles to his eyelids to try and get the image to go away. It never does. Taehyung is constantly haunted by the look of terror in your eyes as you fall over and bleed out right in front of him.

He presses his forehead against the cabinet next to him as he tries to catch his breath. He still isn’t sure if Jungkook has his memories or not, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You deserve to know exactly who you’re dating.

A few days later, you’re sitting across from him with half a gummy worm hanging from your mouth while you read something on your laptop. Every so often you start typing and your brow creases in concentration. Taehyung can’t keep his eyes off you for a second. You’re undeniably endearing and it’s taking everything in him not to reach across the table and kiss you right now.

“Jungkook says he really likes you,” you say without looking up.

“Really? I honestly couldn’t tell,” Taehyung replies.

“Oh yeah, no, he talked about you a lot after the party. Said he finally met his match,” you continue.

“Hmm, he wasn’t jealous at all?”

You look up with confusion written on your face.

“No,” you stretch out the syllable. “Should he be?”

“No, no! I just know him and I talked about it a bit and —”

“Talked about what?”

“Well, about you being his and that I should respect that,” Taehyung explains.

“Oh, yeah, he does that,” you say with a wave of your hand. “In his eyes, I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, so everyone must want me, ya know?”

“You are,” Taehyung accidentally says before biting his lip aggressively. Your eyes bulge as you stare at him in shock across the table. “I… I didn’t mean it like that.”

You nod, your lip held captive between your teeth while you look everywhere but at Taehyung.

“Um —”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Taehyung interrupts. “I promise, I’m not trying to make a move on you or steal you away from Jungkook. You just… I mean, objectively, you are beautiful, and truth be told you remind me of someone I used to know, so I just… oh I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” you say with a gentle smile. “Let’s just forget about it, yeah?”

You end up missing your study session with him on Thursday, shooting him a text an hour after you normally arrive that you got caught up with something else and you’ll see him next time.

Taehyung already knows next time is never going to come. You’ll subtly ghost him after making excuses for a few weeks, and he doesn’t blame you. He crossed a line and you’re trying to set some boundaries in return. But he refuses to leave you in the dark any longer, and if his plan is failing, he’ll need to come up with another one.

There’s a home basketball game tonight, so Taehyung buys a ticket at the entrance before heading into the gym. You’re already there with the other cheerleaders, but Jungkook is nowhere in sight. Taehyung knows he has to be quick about this and doesn’t hesitate to approach you courtside.

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Oh, hi,” you respond with your usual smile. Maybe you really were busy yesterday or maybe you’re just good at hiding your true emotions.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Your body tenses at his question, and your eyes flit to the other side of the room, but you eventually nod and the two of you leave and stand in an unoccupied area behind the gym doors.

“What’s up?” You ask as you cross your arms.

“I just wanted to make sure everything is still good between us,” he admits.

You nod slowly and chew on your lip as you debate over your answer.

“Honestly? No,” you confess. “You’re really fun to hang out with and I’ve enjoyed our study time together, but what you said the other day… it’s obvious that this is more than a friendship for you and I’m not comfortable continuing to hang out one-on-one knowing that.”

Taehyung’s hands begin to shake as he digests your words. He knows what he has to do and yet he can’t bring himself to do it.

“Look, I do like you as more than a friend, and I think you should give me a shot because Jungkook isn’t who you think he is.”

“Excuse me?” You gawk at him. “You’ve met him twice, Tae! How dare you?”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand, huh?”

“That… you don’t have all the information, but I can give it to you,” Taehyung offers.

“Information? What are you even talking about?” There’s a momentary pause until you shake your head and put your hands up in surrender. “You know what, no, I don’t even wanna know. I trust my boyfriend more than a guy I’ve known for barely three months.”

You start to walk away, moving swiftly past Taehyung, but he catches your wrist.

“Wait!”

“Taehyung, let go of me.”

“I’m sorry about this.”

Taehyung uses his grip on your wrist to pull you into him and presses his lips to yours. He never wanted to do it this way, never without your consent, but he’s losing you again and he can’t risk that.

It only lasts two seconds before you’re shoving him off of you, but it’s enough. This kiss is the final puzzle piece to returning your memories so you can be together again.

“What the hell, Tae?” You shout before running back towards the gym.

The words have barely passed your lips when the first wave hits you. It stops you in your tracks, your hands bracing themselves on the cold metal doors as images flood your mind.

Ball gowns, children playing, a grassy field with wildflowers, two horses galloping towards you, blood pooling on the floor. You gasp and your hand instinctively grabs at your neck. The mirage stops and you shake your head, thinking it’s just some bizarre daydream brought on by the stress of Taehyung’s actions.

You return to your courtside formation just in time to see Jungkook entering the gym from the locker room. As soon as your eyes land on his silhouette, more images appear.

A large bed in a dark room, a gold crown, white roses, a baby cradle, his hand pulling a dress up your thigh, him spinning you in the air, and finally, his eyes, sharp and cold, looking at you in disgust.

You trip over nothing at all, accidentally bumping into your teammate behind you. She asks if you’re alright, but you're too frazzled to verbally answer her and nod instead.

Jungkook notices your abnormal behavior from across the room and pivots to walk towards you. When he does, the Jungkook you know seemingly blinks out of existence and is replaced by a version of him in medieval attire with a crown on his head. You blink rapidly to eradicate the hallucination, but it only lasts for a split second before you see him in his basketball uniform again.

Lifting your hands to stop him from coming any closer, you avoid his eyes and turn around to take a sip of water. Your head is pounding as unfamiliar scenes infiltrate your mind one at a time. Nothing makes sense and you wonder if you somehow fell asleep and are dreaming all of this. You pinch your forearm and flinch when your nails dig in and send a sharp pain through your skin.

You try to steady your breathing, but the images are unyielding and overwhelming. Looking up into the bleachers, you see Taehyung, and just like before, he phases into a version of himself wearing knight’s armor and a shield.

Grasping the side of your head and massaging your temple, you turn back towards the game just as the buzzer sounds.

The roar of the crowd and the players yelling commands at each other only serves to make matters worse. You brace your head between your hands and bend over, willing the kaleidoscope of visions to cease. Squeezing your eyes shut, you count your inhales and exhales in a feeble attempt to self soothe.

Another cheerleader rubs your back and asks if you’re feeling okay, but her voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. All you can see, hear, and feel are the vivid daydreams of you, Taehyung, and Jungkook in medieval clothes as you stroll around a huge stone castle. The last thing you see is Taehyung held taut by two knights. A deep, foreboding aura seeps into your bones and then you feel a sharp blade slice across your jugular.

Everything fades to black as you pass out.

“Oh, my God, Y/N,” the cheerleader behind you gasps as you fall into her.

All movement on the court comes to a screeching halt, and Jungkook is throwing the ball out of his hands before running over to you.

“What happened?” He asks as he bends down. His fingers gently move your hair away from your face and he presses the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

“I don’t know, she looked like she was having a migraine and then she was just out,” someone explains.

Taehyung starts moving through the stands to reach you, but before he can, your eyes begin to blink open. He stands still as a statue as he watches you take in your surroundings. When you see Jungkook leaning over you, you gasp and move away.

“No… no,” you whimper.

“Baby?”

“No, don’t touch me,” you yell when his hand goes to caress your arm.

“Y/N, it’s me.”

“No, no, no,” you cry as you cradle your head in your hands. “Make it stop, please make it stop.”

Jungkook looks at the girl still holding you in horror, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

The first-aid team runs in and heads towards the commotion. One of them tries to move you, but you only wail louder and coil into yourself, preventing them from doing anything to help.

“We’re gonna need to sedate her,” one of them says.

“What?” Jungkook asks with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

The paramedic doesn’t answer him, they just stick a small needle in your arm and push the medicine into your vein. Your cries subside into whimpers almost immediately, and then you’re out cold again.

The gym is completely silent as everyone watches with concern for you and your wellbeing.

The paramedics move you to a stretcher and roll you out of the gym. Jungkook stands to follow them, but not before turning over his shoulder and meeting eyes with Taehyung.

“You, with me, now,” he orders.

And that’s the moment Taehyung finally knows for sure. Jungkook has his memories. He knows exactly who he was in his past life, and more importantly, what he did.

1430

You’re clutching your dress between the fingers of your left hand as you take quick steps down the hall, attempting to catch up to the tiny figure ahead of you. The five year old is far too quick for your liking, and she’s mischievous in nature which only makes it worse.

“Sooyoung,” you call when you finally catch up to her, scooping her into your arms when you’re close enough. “What did mommy say about running in the corridors? There are big, pointy objects all around and you could run into one.”

“Sorry, mommy,” she giggles, tucking herself into your chest.

You rub her back and place a kiss in her hair. Just then, you hear the sound of a door opening and Jungkook steps out, running his hands through his hair methodically.

“Daddy!” Sooyoung shouts and wiggles herself away from you.

Putting her down, you watch as her little feet carry her to his side. Jungkook stops in his tracks, his eyes bright with affection and a large toothy grin on his face. When she finally reaches him, he lifts her up by her waist, bringing her over his head as she giggles endlessly before resting her against his hip.

“How is my beautiful Princess doing?”

“Good, I learned the alphabet this morning,” she tells him.

“You did? Baby, that is wonderful,” he praises her. She smiles and leans over to plant a wet smooch on his cheek. Jungkook laughs and returns the favor to her, kissing her multiple times until she tells him to stop with a giggle. When Jungkook reaches you he leans down to kiss your lips. “Hi, my love.”

“Hello, my King,” you say as he passes Sooyoung over to you. You put her down and let her roam in the room just off to the left where some of her toys are. “Are you joining us for lunch?”

“No, my darling, I cannot,” he says with a frown. You mirror his expression and he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “I am sorry, my Queen. You know I would if it were up to me.”

“I know,” you reply.

Even though the war which took the lives of Jungkook’s brother and father ended shortly before you gave birth to your first son, another one broke out three months ago. Thankfully, since his heirs are too young to rule in his stead, there was a mutual agreement that Jungkook wouldn’t go away to fight because of what happened during the last war. But even though he’s here with you, moments like this are some of the only ones you get to spend together.

Other than these brief encounters when you happen to cross paths, the only time you see him is when he comes to bed for the night. During the first month of the war, you would stay up for him, waiting in eager anticipation for the sound of his footsteps coming down the corridor. When he did finally arrive, he would sweep you up into his arms and make love to you before tucking you into bed and falling asleep with you in his hold. Over time, his entrances into your bedroom came later and later, and you would fall asleep while waiting for him. Now, he simply presses a kiss to your forehead in your sleep before pulling you into his arms. When you wake up, he’s usually already gone.

Everytime you get so much as a glimpse of him, it soothes the melancholy feeling in your heart and brings a smile to your face. Even if all you see is a familiar head of black hair and broad shoulders turning around a corner.

Time moves torturously slow without him beside you and you feel the ache of missing him all the way down to your bones. The loneliness is becoming unbearable, especially since your two eldest children, Sooyoung, who is almost five, and Junghyun, named after his late uncle, who is seven, are busy with their tutor most of the day. That leaves you with your identical twin boys, Minho and Wonshik, who are two. They’re quite entertaining, but nothing can fill the void of not having your beloved husband around.

“Perhaps I will see you tonight?” You ask.

“I hope so,” Jungkook says as he caresses your cheek. He bends down to kiss you again, for longer this time now that your daughter is out of the way. “I love you, my Queen, so very much.”

“I love you more,” you reply with a final peck.

Jungkook raises his eyebrow to silently challenge your statement before waving goodbye to you and your daughter as he continues down the corridor.

Sighing in exasperation, you call for your daughter and take her hand as you walk towards the dining hall to eat lunch with your other children.

Some days later you’re walking through the large gardens behind the castle while the twins nap inside. Early afternoons are the only time of day when you’re able to take a break from motherhood and be alone with your thoughts. Although, you’re certainly not lacking in alone time at the moment.

As you pass by the hedges on your way back inside, you spot Taehyung speaking with some fellow knights. You no longer attempt to make eye contact with him and neither does he. It’s been nearly eight years since you last spoke besides obligatory greetings or discussions involving his duties. The idea of you two ever being close again is a pipe dream you stopped hoping for long ago. You miss him dearly, and you always will, but it’s useless driving yourself mad over an impossibility.

After lunch, you hear a knock at the nursery door where you’re playing with Minho and Wonshik. When you see Taehyung enter after allowing the visitor entry, you’re taken aback. He’s usually only ever with Jungkook or completely a task on his behalf.

“Sir Taehyung, can I help you?” You ask him.

“I am assigned to be here, your Majesty,” he answers you flatly.

“Pardon?”

“The King has assigned me to be your personal guard.”

“Why would I need a personal guard?” You question, pulling Minho closer to your chest. There’s never been a reason or need for you to be under supervision before and you don’t like the sound of it.

“The battlefront has moved closer to the Eastern border and as such, King Jungkook wants you and the children to each be guarded day and night in the event that the enemy breaks down our defenses or sneaks into the Kingdom,” he explains.

You nod as you digest the news, looking down at your two-year old who gazes back with familiar big, brown eyes. Putting him back on the ground to play with his twin, you stand and walk towards Taehyung.

“If that is the case I believe we should have a conversation, Sir Taehyung.”

“I do not believe that is necessary, my Queen.”

“I think it is,” you argue. “If you are going to be with me around the clock I do not want it to be awkward.”

Taehyung grimaces and chews on his bottom lip as he thinks about his following words. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure, even though you look nowhere near intimidating.

“I do not wish to speak about the past, but I will attempt to be cordial with you for the sake of the arrangement,” he proposes. “Is that alright with you, your Highness?”

You mull it over in your mind for a minute before nodding curtly and turning back towards your children.

His assignment of guarding you is considerably more boring compared to his usual duties. All he does is walk behind you at a reasonable distance while you traverse the gardens, stand behind your seat at meal times, guard the door while you read in the library, and sit in the nursery with you as you play with the children.

Despite Taehyung assuring you otherwise, the first days of his assignment are extremely awkward. He hardly speaks to you and when he does, it’s clipped and cold. But time seems to massage the tension away and slowly, but surely, he warms up to you.

The first time you see him smile is when Wonshik decides to come towards you for a hug and falls flat on his face. Your whole body tenses in shock when you hear the nostalgic sound of Taehyung chuckling behind you. It brings a huge smile to your face even as you’re trying to calm Wonshik down from his accident.

Eventually, the quiet moments turn into real conversations.

You often stop to enjoy nature during your garden walks and there’s a large bench near the creek you like sitting on. One day, your hand taps against the stone and you look over your shoulder at Taehyung. He raises his eyebrows, silently asking if you mean for him to sit there. When you nod, he waits a few moments before moving towards you and sitting down on the other end of the bench.

“Is this not the most beautiful view?” You ask as you gaze out across the creek.

“It is one of them, for sure,” Taehyung answers.

It’s the first time he’s said anything of substance to you in close to a decade, and you almost begin to cry at the thought.

“The valley by my house was beautiful, too, but I believe I prefer this,” you state. Taehyung only hums in response. “Do you have any special spots around the castle you think are particularly nice?”

“I do, actually,” Taehyung says. “There is a corridor just off the maid’s quarters where they store the new and old artwork as they cycle through them. I go there sometimes and look at the art up close. Not many people know about it, so it is always peaceful.”

You admire his profile as he speaks, and a smile appears on your lips involuntarily. Even with the passage of time, his features are identical to the boy you once knew. Losing his friendship has always been your biggest heartbreak, and you can feel your soul slowly healing whenever you’re with him.

That encounter becomes the starting point for your new relationship with Taehyung. It becomes a routine to stop and chat during your daily walks, and you look forward to it everyday. As time goes on your conversations grow longer and dive deeper. You never touch on the past, but you don’t need to. The friendship picks up where it left off as if no time has passed at all.

A few months into Taehyung’s assignment as your personal guard, you’re walking through the garden when Jungkook comes out from the castle.

“Darling?” You call out to him when you see him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I came to say goodbye, my love. I have to leave to speak to some allies in a neighboring town,” he tells you.

You frown and your shoulders drop. When Jungkook reaches you he takes your hands in his and kisses them.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Three days.”

“That is Sooyoung’s birthday.”

“Well, then I will make it two days,” he responds without missing a beat.

“Are you sure?”

Jungkook smiles and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I would not miss it for the world, my love,” he assures you. You acknowledge his promise with a nod before wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him goodbye. He returns the gesture in kind, lifting your heels off the ground as he embraces you tightly. “I love you, I will see you soon.”

He kisses you for a lingering moment before nodding towards Taehyung and leaving to meet the parliamentarians in the entryway of the castle.

You bite down hard on your lip to stop the bubbling sorrow within you from spilling over to the surface, but it does so anyway. Hands coming up to hide your face, a sob breaks from your chest as your palms collect your tears.

“Your Majesty? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks, his surprise at your reaction evident in his tone. He moves to stand in front of you.

“I am sorry, I do not mean to be emotional,” you say as you lift your head and wipe the tears away.

“That is nothing to apologize for,” he states. “Can I do anything?”

“No, no,” you respond. “Unless you know how to end this Godforsaken war.”

“Is it the war that is upsetting you, my Queen?”

“Yes, because it is the war that is keeping my husband from me.”

“What do you mean, your Highness?”

“I have not had a real conversation with Jungkook in nearly half a year, Sir Taehyung,” you tell him. “Moments like these are all I get. He is too busy with battle strategies and trade routes to spend any time with me or the children.”

“Your Highness, I am so sorry to hear that. I was not aware,” he replies.

“I should not be telling you this, I apologize,” you say. “Please forget I mentioned anything.”

“Your Highness, if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know,” Taehyung offers.

The conversation ends there and you finish your stroll before returning inside to your children for dinner. When you tell them about Jungkook being gone, they all cry the same as you, not used to their father being gone even though he’s around less these days. The sentiment is shared amongst all five of you. You feel Jungkook’s absence from the castle everywhere you turn even if you wouldn’t normally see him anyway.

Exiting your room the next day, you find Taehyung outside your door as usual, but he has something hidden in his left hand. Before you have the opportunity to question him about it, he pulls a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back.

“I wanted to cheer you up, your Majesty, I hope I am not overstepping.” The flowers are purple and white, same as the ones which grew outside your home. You gasp in delight, your hands coming up to cover your mouth.

“Oh, Taehyung, they are so beautiful,” you tell him as he hands them to you. “Thank you so very much.”

You don’t realize your slip of the tongue, the honorific noticeably absent when you say his name, and it brings a smile to your companion’s face.

“I am glad you like them, my Queen,” he says with a deep bow.

You smile at him, your head tilting to the right as your nose scrunches, before putting your nose to the bouquet to smell the flower’s sweet scent. It reminds you of home and fills you with a deep, comforting warmth.

Over the next two days you and Taehyung begin to speak even more, conversing as you walk the halls and making jokes while playing with the children. Taehyung even joins you on the floor and playfully teases the twins with a game of peek-a-boo. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months. You still miss Jungkook dearly, but the loneliness that’s made a home inside your heart goes away on a brief vacation.

By the morning of Sooyoung’s birthday Jungkook has yet to return, but you still have hope he’ll make it back before the end of the day.

You’re arranging some of her presents sent from family members and citizens alike when Taehyung enters with some more that were just dropped off. As you’re moving one of the larger gifts, your hair falls into your face and you attempt to push it away by blowing air out of your mouth since your hands are full.

Suddenly, you feel a fingertip against your cheek, and you look over to see Taehyung moving the strand out of the way for you. He’s close enough that you can see the deep chocolate color of his irises.

An unfamiliar tension threads itself between you both as you stand in silence only inches apart. Taehyung opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by a voice coming from outside the room.

“Where is my beautiful wife?”

Your eyes light up at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, breaking the moment between you and Taehyung in an instant. Rushing towards the door, you throw it open and look for the source of your husband’s voice.

Jungkook spots you from down the hall and he sighs in relief, an adoring smile growing on his lips. Running towards him without another thought, you laugh cheerfully as he opens his arms to welcome you into his chest.

Instead of hugging you, though, he grabs you by the waist and lifts you above his head as he often does with your daughter. You make a sound somewhere between a laugh and a squeal before wrapping your arms around his neck as he brings you down into his embrace.

“Oh, I missed you, my darling,” he whispers into your hair.

“I missed you so much, Jungkook,” you respond and bury your face into his shoulder. “You made it back in time.”

“I promised you I would, did I not?” You look up and nod, fresh tears evident in your eyes. He frowns when he notices them and reaches up to wipe the tears away. “What is wrong, my love?”

“I just missed you, that is all,” you answer.

Jungkook nods in agreement before bending down to kiss you. Your mouths move together in a practiced rhythm, his hand holding the back of your head to keep you against him. Your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt as he tilts his head to kiss you with more fervor. He swallows the noise you make when his tongue traces your bottom lip and sinks into your mouth. It’s a passionate dance you haven’t experienced in months, and it almost makes you start crying again.

You reluctantly pull away, the breath missing from your lungs, as your hands tighten around the collar of his shirt.

“I am sorry it has been so long since I have done that,” Jungkook pants as he caresses your face. “I hope you know I think about it all the time. I am always thinking of you, my Y/N.”

You nod as another tear rolls down your cheek. Jungkook kisses it away before letting you go so he can greet the children.

Your strange moment with Taehyung is forgotten, and weeks go by with your friendship continuing to blossom as it did over those two days.

Jungkook leaves again, this time for a week, to visit with the ruler of a neighboring Kingdom who can possibly help end the war. It breaks your heart all over again, even though you know a week isn’t that long. The distance between you has just grown so wide, that seeing him between meetings and feeling his arms around you at night is the only thing keeping you sane.

You haven’t had sex since the first month of the war, and it feels like you’re being slowly drawn and quartered. Before, sex was almost a nightly occurrence, sometimes even twice a day if the children were with their grandparents. Jungkook spoiled you with pleasure, and now the torture of being without his touch is downright unbearable.

Sometimes you pleasure yourself, just to take the edge off, but it’s nothing compared to Jungkook. He knows your body better than you do, and your hands don’t even come close to doing him justice.

Last night you cried yourself to sleep from the pain of missing him and the need pulsating in your thighs. You’d do anything, even take up a sword yourself, to end this war so you can have him back. Whenever he’s gone, it feels like the weight of the entire castle is sitting on your chest.

Your emotions from the night before are still evident on your face this morning, and Taehyung notices.

“Are you alright, your Majesty?” He asks after greeting you in the library. “Your eyes look swollen, did you have a negative reaction to something you ate?”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Then, what is it, my Queen?” Taehyung probes with a look of concern.

“It is nothing, Sir Taehyung,” you answer. “I was merely missing my husband again.”

Taehyung frowns and takes a step closer to you. You notice the movement, but don’t step back as you normally would.

“Is there anything I can do? Anyway I can help you, your Majesty?”

Taehyung’s gaze is piercing and it makes your face and neck flush with a pink hue. Without warning, an undeniable heat begins to spread across your abdomen and simmer in your gut. You know the sensation all too well, but you’ve never felt something like this for Taehyung, even before you were married. Forcing your eyes shut, you will the temptation to disappear. But it’s been so long since you’ve been touched, and Taehyung is the one constant in your life at the moment.

“I… am not sure,” you admit.

“Is it just him that you miss or something else as well?” Taehyung asks cautiously. “I cannot do anything about your husband not being here, but I can help in other ways.”

Biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, you avoid his stare and beg your feet to move away from him. All you need is to take a single step back and the tension will break.

“Taehyung,” you speak softly.

“Y/N,” he replies, his eyes sharpening. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice speak your name since before you got married, before you became Queen.

“Will you help me… please?”

Taehyung moves like lightning, as if he’s been waiting an eternity for you to say those words. His warm hands engulf your waist so he can push you back until your thighs hit the large desk behind you. He lifts you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the wood without ever breaking eye contact. Descending to his knees before you, his hands trace the curve of your legs over your dress.

Your brain is screaming at you to stop now before you’re past the point of no return. But there is nothing you can do, your body is overriding the commands which normally control your movements. It’s aching to be touched, and it no longer cares who’s doing it.

Taehyung’s hands disappear beneath your gown, caressing your ankles and calves before he’s pulling up the fabric so it rests above your knees. His head leaves your line of sight, and then you feel a featherlight touch to your covered sex.

You gasp, clapping your hand over your mouth when you do. Taehyung’s fingers trace your folds through your undergarment, and you can feel his warm breath on your inner thighs. Then, you feel him pull the fabric aside and he touches you for the first time. You moan into your palm as he dips his fingers into your essence and carries it up to your clit. He gently circles the sensitive nub before pressing down hard and rubbing. Head tipping back in euphoria, you use your elbows to keep yourself somewhat upright.

He plays with your pussy for a while, exploring the unfamiliar territory of your body, before finally sinking his fingers into your hole. Your desperate whimper is muffled by your flesh when he inserts two fingers into you and begins pumping them in and out. The wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into is almost foreign, since it’s been so long since you’ve heard it.

A shockwave of pleasure devours you whole when he kisses your clit and then flattens his tongue to lick you repeatedly. He matches the pace of his fingers and the dual sensation has you biting down on your hand to stop yourself from screaming. You feel yourself drowning in the hellish desire that’s slowly overtaking your soul.

Taehyung moans against you, removing his hand from your pussy to grip you by the thighs and pull you closer to his face. Once he’s hands-free, he begins devouring your cunt like he hasn’t eaten for days. He licks all the way up your slit before circling your clit with his tongue. Then he goes back down and kisses you as he drinks the juices leaking out of your hole. Your mind is paralyzed by the pleasure and it isn’t long before you feel your orgasm nearing.

Your hand grips his hair, tugging on the dark strands and making him grunt. He licks you harder in response, fucking his tongue into your hole and using his nose to keep friction on your clit. You come with a cry, sinking your teeth into the skin of your hand to keep yourself quiet.

It’s only then you realize you’re crying, but they aren’t tears of pleasure. The emotional response is from the unfathomable guilt and self-hatred over what you’ve just done. An act you can never take back and must live with for the rest of your life.

Taehyung licks you a few more times, slurping up your cum and moaning at the taste before rising to stand in front of you. Your chest is red and heaving as you come down from your high. He looks smug and proud of what he’s done to you, and it makes you sick.

You gag into the hand still covering your mouth before leaping off of the table and finding the nearest basin. The contents of your stomach force their way up your throat as you vomit into the receptacle. Your fingers shake and you grip the metal edge to hold yourself upright. Bile burns your esophagus as tears roll down and collect on your chin.

When your stomach is completely empty, and only mucus drips from your mouth, you fall over onto the floor. Your hands cover your face as you scream and cry. The harsh, deep sobs making you gasp for air and cough repeatedly.

“What have I done?” You wail into your hands and shake your head back and forth, as if the movement could somehow turn back time. The faces of your children and husband flash across your mind and make more tears fall. You think of Jungkook, hundreds of miles away, probably wondering how you’re doing, and your soul tears itself to shreds. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

Taehyung crouches down next to you and moves his hand along your spine to soothe you as best he can. You’re undeserving of his affection, the only thing you deserve now is damnation.

Jungkook comes home three days later. You get sick again as soon as you hear his voice filtering in from down the hall.

A month goes by without you or Taehyung mentioning the incident. You push forward and pretend like nothing happened, or least you do. It’s uncertain how Taehyung feels, but frankly, you don’t care to know. The only thing that matters is that it can never happen again. You’ve loved Jungkook since you were a child, and the putrid thought of betraying him again is enough to send you to your grave.

But it’s hard, it's so very hard. Because he isn’t here beside you to hold you and kiss you and remind you that everything’s going to be alright. You only hear his voice every few days, if that; only feel his touch once every other week if you happen to wake up in the night and feel his arm around you. The loneliness is suffocating you from the inside and you feel it choking you to death more and more everyday.

You cry for hours on end most days. The self-hatred, guilt, sorrow, and despair mix together to create a cacophony of emotions you have no way of controlling. Taehyung just waits outside your door and listens to your sobs with no power to do anything about them.

Your children are the only joy in your life at the moment, but even spending time with them is difficult because all four of them share a pair of eyes with their father. Everywhere you look you see pieces of Jungkook, whether in the children or in the desolate halls of the castle, but you never see the man himself.

At least strolling through the gardens and speaking with Taehyung while you sit near the creek brings you peace. It reminds you so much of old times and you’re relieved to finally have your best friend back after reconnecting over these many months.

He makes you laugh and listens intently when you tell him about the books you’re reading and what the children are learning about in their lessons. In return, he talks about knighthood and whatever silliness the men got up to in their freetime. Without him, you don’t think you would be surviving this endless solitude.

“Your Majesty, if I may?” Taehyung says from beside you on the bench. You gesture with your hand for him to continue. “Forgive me for my forwardness, but your mental state is only getting worse. I do not know how much longer you can go on like this.”

Eyes glancing down, you pick at the fabric of your dress and pull at the threads with your fingers.

“I will be fine. I just have to wait until the war is over,” you state.

“Your Highness, the last war went on for close to four years, and it has not even been one yet,” he points out. “You cannot go on like this.”

“What would you have me do?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“No,” you snap at him.

“Y/N —”

“No, do not even think of speaking it out loud,” you order him sternly. “That was the biggest regret of my life and I will not give into it again.”

“There is no reason you should be alone, Y/N!” Taehyung stands and faces you as he speaks. “Jungkook asked you to marry him and now he leaves you alone and untouched and it is killing you.”

Tears prick at your eyes as Taehyung’s words force reality close enough until you can no longer hide from it. Jungkook’s love for you is unquestionable, and you know the war is the sole reason he isn’t beside you, but the war is still ongoing, and he has no control over its end.

“Taehyung, I cannot betray him again,” you whisper, more so to yourself than to him.

“It does not have to be like that,” Taehyung argues. “It is just pleasure. A body to touch and hold you so you are no longer lonely and isolated. Nothing can take away from the love you and him share. But this situation is unfair to you, and you know it is.”

“What is in it for you, Taehyung?” You ask him. “Why are you so set on being the body which helps me with that endeavor?”

“You already know why, my Queen. My feelings have never changed, even after all this time.”

The day Taehyung confessed his feelings for you was so long ago it almost feels like another lifetime. You never responded, because you didn’t share those same feelings for him. But these months together have meant more to you than you can even articulate, and you aren’t sure if that’s still the case.

What you feel for Taehyung is very different from what you feel for Jungkook.

Jungkook is, without a shadow of a doubt, the love of your life. Your love for him burns deep within your heart like an ever-glowing hearth. It’s solid and foundational to your very being. He's your best friend, husband, and father of your children, and there’s nothing in this world that could make you love him less.

Taehyung is more like a candle, something that only burns you if you reach out and touch the flame. It’s warm and inviting during a time where your whole world feels dark. The love feels familiar because the seed was planted long ago and nourished throughout your years of friendship, but now it’s blooming.

“You still love me?”

“With every part of me.”

You pause and compartmentalize your thoughts before continuing.

“I never meant to hurt you, all those years ago,” you tell him. “I am sorry for doing so.”

“It is alright, my Queen,” he responds, taking his seat beside you again. “I know you did not have much choice in the matter.”

You assume he means the speed at which everything happened, and don’t correct him.

“I care about you very much, Taehyung.” You inhale and close your eyes, counting to four before releasing the air from your lungs. “I do love you. It… it is not like my love for my husband, but it is there. I cannot deny that.”

“Then will you let me do this for you?” Taehyung asks. When you look at him, his eyes are glossy, no doubt from the confession of your newfound feelings. “I am not asking for anything in return, your Majesty. I only want to help you.”

Your thoughts trample over one another as they all scramble for the top position on the dog pile. But you truly believe the only way you’ll survive this war is if you shut your mind off, turn out the lights and let your body puppeteer you.

Taehyung is right that your depression and isolation are slowly killing you. There’s no energy left for you to play with your children, you can barely eat or sleep, and your hair has even begun to fall out.

So, you follow him to his quarters in the Eastern wing of the castle.

You jump at the sound of the door shutting behind you and locking into place. It’s strange being inside his bedroom, but the trinkets and items scattered around the room feel familiar to you because they’re his.

Taehyung is quick to capture your lips with his and it sends a shock through your nervous system. You’ve never kissed anyone but Jungkook, and he kisses you so differently than your husband does. If Jungkook is water, Taehyung is fire. The kiss scorches you and burns across your insides until it lights a fire inside your stomach. You allow yourself to return his affection, let your lips move against his as he walks you backwards towards the bed.

The two of you fall together onto the mattress with a soft bounce. Taehyung’s hands find your own and pull them over your head, imprisoning them against the bed. He begins to kiss down your face and neck, sucking gently and licking over your skin. You moan and tilt your head to give him more access to you. It’s been so long since you’ve felt ravished and worshipped, and your body welcomes it on impulse.

He moves slowly from your neck to your chest, his lips and tongue caressing the tops of your breasts and softly biting down on the fatty flesh.

You nudge him with your knee to make him sit up before reaching around to untie your corset. Taking the hint, Taehyung begins undressing as well. His armor meets the floor with a loud metallic clap as you step out of your clothes and return to his bed.

He moves you up the mattress by your waist, all the while still kissing you and exploring your mouth with his tongue. Taehyung takes a moment to admire your bare chest before him, his hands coming up to caress your breasts and then kiss them. His tongue circles your nipple before sucking on it, turning it hard and sensitive between his teeth. You gasp and moan as your hands grab onto his hair.

Continuing down your body, Taehyung removes the undergarment hiding your pussy from him and kisses your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows as your chest rises with ragged breaths. He eats you out like it will be his last meal, and if the two of you are ever caught, it will be. His tongue fucks into your hole and the sloppy sound of your essence and his salvia mixing into one fills the room. He moves to your clit and lets his teeth scrape over the flesh. You whine as he sucks and licks on your sensitive nerve endings.

His two middle fingers enter you with a wet squelch and he starts curling them so they press against your spongy walls. You moan freely, knowing the first knight’s quarters are completely secluded. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as he devours your clit with his mouth. Your head is spinning in ecstasy. Your pussy greedily sucks his digits in and leaks essence all over his hand.

It doesn’t take long for you to come with a strained gasp, your legs shaking and clenching around his head.

Taehyung removes his fingers slowly before licking them clean and kissing along your thighs. When he kisses you again you can taste yourself on him. It’s been so long now that the flavor is almost foreign.

You push forward without reprieve, wrapping your legs around Taehyung’s thighs to flip him over. He matches your eagerness and starts pulling his undergarment off so you can pump his cock with your hand. The sound of spit has Taehyung’s eyes rolling back as you coat his length in your saliva and begin sliding your fingers up and down his shaft. He moans from deep within his chest. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling of you jacking him off. His cock is big and thick, and your mouth waters instinctively as you think about him filling you up.

Once he’s hard and leaking precum all over your hand, you position yourself over him and sink down into his lap. The intrusion hurts at first, since your hole isn’t used to stretching open anymore, but then your pussy adjusts to the shape of him and pleasure rolls over you in waves.

Taehyung’s hands grasp desperately at your hips, his fingertips making divots in your flesh. He leans in to kiss and suck on your breasts again and you hold his head to you to continue enjoying the feeling. Hips rising until only his tip is left inside, you slam down against him and proceed to bounce on his dick at a steadfast pace. Identical moans breach the air and Taehyung sits up to kiss at your exposed throat when your head tips back. He licks across your jugular and bites into the skin below your ear. Need and desire course through you like lava as the veins of his cock rub against your velvet walls.

You force your mind into submission, refusing to allow the feelings of guilt and despair to take a single breath. This is something your body has been craving for months and now isn’t the time for your incessant thoughts to bury you in agony. For the first time in a long while, your mind is completely silent.

Tears of pleasure fall as Taehyung guides you by the hips to bounce on him harder, sending his cock deeper into your cunt until you can feel him in your stomach. When your bodies meet, you grind against his pelvis to create friction on your clit.

“You cannot come inside me,” you say through a groan. “You will have to pull out and come on my skin instead.”

Taehyung nods responsively before grabbing you by the hair to kiss you feverishly. His tongue sinks into your mouth and tangles with your own and you moan around the wet muscle. Your teeth drag his bottom lip away before letting it snap back into place. You hear him growl beneath you.

“Does it feel good, my Queen?”

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly before pushing him back onto the bed and gripping his chest to support your body.

Your nails scratch at his pecks as you fuck yourself on his hardness, leaning down to kiss his collarbones and shoulder. Taehyung takes the opportunity the new position grants him to plant his feet on the bed and thrust up into you. You scream, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound as he abuses your pussy. You feel his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks into you relentlessly, not slowing his pace for a single moment.

“I am going to come,” you pant into his ear.

“Please, my Queen, let me feel you finish,” he responds.

Your orgasm builds from embers into a slow-burning fire as Taehyung’s final thrusts send you over the edge. When your cunt pulses and soaks Taehyung’s length in cum he moans and rolls you over in one fluid motion. His cock leaves you empty and he fucks his hand before painting your stomach in his seed.

You gasp at the novel feeling of cum splashing onto your flesh. It’s hot and sticky, but you feel prideful over the physical manifestation of Taehyung’s pleasure on your body.

Taehyung gets up from the bed while you’re still trying to catch your breath. The feeling of a wet cloth greets you as he wipes away his cum from your skin and then throws the cloth onto a dresser.

“Did it help, your Highness?”

You can only nod in return, too fucked-out and delirious from the pleasure and adrenaline.

It does help. The two of you continue to sneak away to his quarters two to three times a week so you can use his body to relieve the ache of loneliness. Soon enough your energy returns, allowing you to play with your children again. You lovingly watch their smiles and hear their laughter as they run around the grass. Your appetite returns and your health improves, both physically and mentally. The guilt still eats at you like a famished predator, especially anytime you see Jungkook around the castle or feel him pull you into him at night, but your mind has reached its limit and it can no longer carry the weight of the world.

Neither of you speak of the feelings you shared in the garden before this all started. Taehyung knows how fragile and vulnerable your mental state is and he doesn’t want to pressure you into making this anything more than what it is; just the pleasures of the flesh, only desire, and not love.

The anniversary of the war comes and goes as if it’s just another day, and you and Taehyung continue your affair unbridled. Your entanglements don’t last much longer than that, though.

On the last day of your life, you and Taehyung are in his quarters getting dressed after sleeping together. He leans down to kiss you goodbye when the sound of his door hinges breaking forces you apart.

Four knights barge in, followed by Jungkook.

Your husband’s eyes are unrecognizable, cold and harsh, with no light in them. Reality grips you tight and your hands clasp over your mouth when you realize what must happen now. Jungkook doesn’t say a word, just gestures towards you with his head to command the knights to grab you.

“No! Wait!” You shout as they take each of your arms and restrain you between their bodies. They do the same to Taehyung and he thrashes against their hold. “Wait, Jungkook, please let me explain.” He’s turned away from you now, but you see his hands shake before clenching into fists. The membrane around your heart closes in on the beating muscle. “Jungkook, please just let me see the children,” you beg. “Let me say goodbye to them. Please, my King.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence, the only sound coming from the tears already rolling down your cheeks.

“Take her to the nursery before bringing her to me,” he instructs the knights before exiting. The knights holding Taehyung force him out of the room to follow Jungkook while they bring you in the opposite direction.

The knights hold you taut between them as you walk to where your children are with their nanny, but there is no need. You won’t fight the inevitable.

When you reach the nursery, they let go of you with a glare of warning before allowing you to go inside. The tears begin to fall again as soon as you see your children playing with their toys and books on the ground.

“Mommy!” The four of them shout in unison before running over to you, the young twins stumbling over their little legs to get to you.

You bend down and open your arms for all of them to embrace you at once. Your hands comb over their hair as you kiss their heads. The tears never once cease as you gaze at their beautiful faces.

“Why are you crying, Mommy?” Junghyun asks as he wipes at a tear on your cheek. He’s practically a mini Jungkook, his big eyes and black hair identical to his father’s.

“I have to go away for a while, and I am going to miss you so very much,” you tell him as you caress his cheek.

“Where are you going?” Sooyoung asks with tears in her own eyes.

“It does not matter, my Princess, all that matters is that I love you, and I will miss you all so, so much,” you explain as your voice breaks. “Daddy is going to take good care of you, alright? You know mommy and daddy love you more than anything, yes?”

All four of their little heads nod at you. It makes you smile through the streaks of tears coming down.

“I love you, mommy, and we will miss you, too,” Junghyun says.

He wraps his arms around your neck and you have to bite your lip to suppress a sob. Minho and Wonshik coo and make grabby hands at you for attention. You pick them up one at a time and kiss their cheeks as they tell you they “wuv you foo.”

Sooyoung, your brave little girl, wipes her own tears away before hugging you and kissing your cheek. You return the affection and brush her hair from her eyes.

“Alright. Goodbye, my loves,” you say as evenly as you can.

You don’t glance back at them as you leave. If you see them even once more, you know you will not be able to walk down the long corridor to the fate that awaits you. The knights take your arms again once you’re out of sight of the children. The tears finally cease, and you walk with your back straight and head up.

There’s no reason to cower from what lies ahead, you made your bed and now you must lay in it.

PRESENT DAY

The first-aid team brings you to the nurse’s office in the adjoining building to the gym. The nurse briefly checks your vitals before letting you sleep off the medicine in the back room. It’s supposed to last about an hour, so she places two chairs inside for Taehyung and Jungkook to sit while they wait.

Jungkook storms in first, barely allowing Taehyung to shut the door behind him before he’s facing him with rage burning in his irises.

“Really great fucking timing, Taehyung, truly,” he snaps.

Taehyung has to refrain from physically attacking Jungkook. He clenches his hands into fists until his nails make crescents in his palms.

“You disgusting piece of shit, you fucking monster!” Taehyung shouts. “How dare you hold and kiss her and let her love you when you know what you did and she’s clueless!”

“How dare I?” Jungkook mirrors his tone. “How dare you! You transferred to our fucking school and became friends with her just to try and steal her from me again.”

“I am trying to save her from you!” Taehyung says through gritted teeth.

“Save her? What am I going to do to her, Taehyung? I’m not a King anymore, I’m a fucking college basketball player.”

“You murdered her and she deserves to know.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath and releasing the pressure from his neck with a turn of his head.

“Executed.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I executed her, Taehyung, not murdered. And I did it because it was my fucking job as King!” Jungkook yells as he closes in on his former friend.

“She was your wife, the mother of your fucking children and —”

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE!” Jungkook screams at him before stepping back again. He runs his hands down his face and pushes his hair back before continuing, calmer this time. “What did you want me to do, huh? What should I have done when my Queen and first knight betrayed me? Should I have made you sleep in the stables and called it good? That would’ve done an amazing job at showing the entire Kingdom and all our enemies how much of a coward I am.” Jungkook laughs incredulously. “No, no, you do not get to make me the villain, Taehyung. I may have held the blade in my hand but you are the reason she died.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond to his statements, just shakes his head and asks him what he really wants to know.

“How are you even here, Jungkook? I had a sorceress put a spell on Y/N to reincarnate us. You were never supposed to be a part of it,” Taehyung explains.

“I don’t know, Taehyung, what did the spell say?”

“That the person she loves will meet her in the next life and return her memories.”

Jungkook stares him down with his eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry, you’re confused why a spell like that would bring me, her husband, here, too? You can’t see why that would include me?” Jungkook scoffs and turns away. “Do you think I forced her to marry me, Taehyung? Forced her to be with me and bear my children? Who the fuck do you think I am?” He turns back towards Taehyung again with more fire in his eyes. “She loved me. We loved each other and your little affair did nothing to change that.”

“That’s not what I mean. There was a catch, Jungkook. We had to die together for the spell to work. One right after the other.” Jungkook goes quiet after he hears Taehyung’s words, his eyes tilting towards the floor as his jaw ticks. “Wait…”

“I hadn’t even cleaned your blood off my sword yet.”

Taehyung takes a step back, his eyes opening in shock. He shakes his head, pushing his hair from his eyes as he does so.

“You aren’t seriously saying —”

“I didn’t plan to do it,” Jungkook admits quietly. “But when I looked down at you two, I just…” He glances at your sleeping form, his eyes following the way your chest rises and falls. “I couldn’t live without her. Couldn’t live without either of you, truthfully.”

Silence is all Taehyung can respond with as the true answer of how the three of you are all together again breaks his resolve of confronting Jungkook. The two don’t speak again, they just take the seats at opposite ends of the room and wait for you to wake up.

When you do, it’s with a groan. Your hand comes to rest against your temple as you slowly sit up. Once you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, your eyes finally open and land on Jungkook across from you. They widen for a moment, but then soften as tears well up in them.

“Jungkook,” you cry, your arms opening for him.

He gets to you in a millisecond, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around. You sob against him as your hands grip the edges of his uniform. He shushes you comfortingly, combing through your hair with his fingers and pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

“S’okay, baby, I’m right here,” he whispers to you.

You stay like that for a while, your cries filling the room and breaking both their hearts in the process.

“Do you know?” You ask without looking up. “Do you have your memories, too?”

“Yeah, my love, I do,” he answers you.

You look up at him with glassy eyes. It’s overwhelming now that your memories are back. He’s here in front of you as you know him, but just underneath the surface there is a shimmer of the King you once knew.

“And you still wanted to be with me after we met?” You ask through a hiccup. “Even knowing what I did?”

Jungkook grabs your face with both hands, pushing your hair out of the way so he can see you properly.

“Are you kidding?” He smiles at the memory of your reunion. “When I found you again it was the happiest day of my life.” A watery chuckle comes from your lips. “I don’t care about any of that, Y/N. I have loved you in all of my lifetimes and I will continue to do so in however many more the universe grants me.”

“I love you so much,” you tell him. “And I am so, so sorry.”

He shakes his head, his thumb moving across your cheekbone lovingly.

“It was a long time ago, my darling. All is forgiven.”

“It doesn’t feel that way, it feels like it was only yesterday.”

“That’s only because you just got your memories back,” he reassures you. “After a while, they’ll feel more like an old dream.”

You nod to acknowledge his words before crashing back into him, letting your arms snake around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. It only takes you another minute to fall asleep again in Jungkook’s arms, a side effect the nurse warned them about earlier.

Taehyung doesn’t stay much longer. Truthfully, he needs to gather his own thoughts, and he knows you’ll be in no condition to talk with him when you wake up.

You text him once the weekend passes and ask to meet by the lake behind the university. When he arrives, you’re already sitting on the wooden bench with your legs crossed and a notebook open in your lap. He doesn’t approach you right away, instead he just takes in the sight of you tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and bending over to write in your notebook.

“Hi,” Taehyung greets you as he rounds the bench.

“Hi,” you reply quietly and gesture for him to sit beside you.

“I didn’t see you around campus at all this weekend,” Taehyung notes.

You sigh and meet his eyes with a soft smile.

“Yeah, um, Jungkook and I decided to take the train to the museum they built out of our castle. We saw our family crypt, too, where we, our children, and grandchildren are buried,” you explain.

“Oh, wow,” Taehyung replies.

“There was this history book they were selling at the gift shop with our entire family tree in it. We sat where the library used to be and read it together. It talked about what happened to the children and had the names and titles of all your grandchildren,” you tell him. “It was really nice.”

“So, what happened with your children?”

“The royal advisor ruled in Junghyun’s stead since he was too young to be King when Jungkook died. The war ended after about five years, and then when Junghyun turned sixteen he was able to rule on his own. Sooyoung married a Prince in a neighboring Kingdom and ruled there as Queen, which is exactly what she always wanted. Minho and Wonshik married a Duchess and Viscountess and they actually became royal tutors. You know, like the ones you and Jungkook had growing up, who taught you sword fighting and horseback riding and all that?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m so happy knowing they all grew up well and started their own families. Jungkook and I have ten grandchildren.”

“Ten? Wow,” Taehyung laughs. You proudly nod your head and gaze out again at the water. “I’m glad you were able to learn all about them.”

“Yeah… I just wish I had been there to see it,” you whisper. “Wish we both had.” A moment later you snap your fingers when you remember something else. “Actually, we saw your grave, too. It’s in the knight’s crypt not far from our own.”

“Knight’s crypt? I shouldn’t have been buried there. I was stripped of my knighthood when we… well, you know,” he replies.

“I thought the same thing, but Jungkook told me he ordered you to be buried there anyway before the execution,” you respond.

Taehyung is completely dumbfounded by what you’re telling him. It doesn’t compute in his brain why Jungkook would allow him to be buried among the other knights. Before he can question you further, you turn towards him, crossing one leg under your knee so you can face him directly.

“Look, I never got to explain everything to you about what happened leading up to Jungkook and I getting married, and I would like to, if you’ll let me.”

Taehyung nods encouragingly for you to continue, gesturing with his hands that you have the floor to speak your mind. You thank him with a calm smile before sitting up straight so you can finally say what you need to after all this time.

“When you first told me you were leaving for the war, and said you loved me and wanted to marry me, I didn’t reply because, one, I was shocked, and two, because I didn’t feel the same way about you. Growing up, I only ever had feelings for Jungkook. My feelings for you were definitely strong, because you were my best friend, but they were platonic. I honestly put your proposal in the back of my mind because you were leaving, and I didn’t even know if you would survive the war or not. Then when Jungkook had to become King and you were no longer leaving, I didn’t know what that meant in regards to your proposal. You were about to become first knight and have a lot more responsibility, so I figured I would wait for you to talk to me about it and I would tell you my answer at that point.”

“But then Jungkook came to see me the next day and asked me to marry him, and that… that was my dream, Tae. I had loved him for almost my entire life. I wanted to speak to you before the wedding or even before arriving at the castle, but there was no time. I wanted to explain my feelings so you knew I wasn’t just ignoring your confession and doing whatever I wanted. But obviously, I never got the chance and you stopped speaking to me altogether.”

“Then, when the war broke out, and we grew close again, I did end up developing feelings for you. You were there for me when no one else was and it was easy to fall for you when we would spend day in and day out together. But, Taehyung, that was the first time I ever felt anything romantic for you. I know you think Jungkook stole me from you or forced me into becoming Queen, but that’s not the case. My heart has always belonged to Jungkook from the very beginning, and even when I did grow to love you, my feelings for him never waned.”

“All this to say, I am so grateful you had a spell cast on me so we all get a second chance at this, but the memories you returned to me are just that… memories. The life I’m currently living, the one where I was born to two pediatricians, went to ballet school, and became a cheerleader, that’s my life, not the one where I was a midwife and a Queen. Even if you and I had been these star-crossed lovers who never got the chance to be together, it doesn’t change the life I’ve lived so far. It doesn’t change that I fell in love with Jungkook. Not the Prince or King, but the computer science major who plays basketball and is competitive, funny, spontaneous, and kind. I love him for who he is today, memories or not.”

Taehyung takes several moments to absorb everything you’re telling him, and truthfully, he’s confused. His entire life he’s always believed you felt the same way for him, and when you told him you loved him in the gardens he thought you meant you always had.

“But, before you were executed, your last words… you told me you loved me, Y/N,” Taehyung argues.

Your eyes widen and a sympathetic frown appears on your face.

“Taehyung, my last words...” You sigh. “I wasn’t saying that to you. I was saying it to Jungkook.”

The truth forces a sob out of Taehyung as tears escape from his waterline. He goes to wipe them away, but your finger is already grazing his cheek and doing so yourself.

“This was supposed to be our second chance, Y/N. For you and me to finally be together,” he cries.

“It still can be, Taehyung. Romantic love is not the only kind there is. You are and forever will be my best friend, and this can be our second chance to have the friendship we were always supposed to have. For all three of us to be together the way we once were,” you propose.

“No, I could never forgive Jungkook for what he did,” he snaps.

“Forgive him?” You respond harshly. “Tae, we stabbed him in the fucking back. I vowed to love and cherish him and then I fucked his best friend and first knight. The one person he was supposed to trust more than anyone in the world. Then we forced a sword in his hand and made him kill the two people he loved the most. We knew when we started sleeping together what would happen if we got caught and we did it anyway. He didn’t kill us, Taehyung, we killed him.”

You exhale and tuck your hair behind your ear, chewing on your lip as you calm down and think of your next words.

“I love you, Taehyung. I will always love you, and I want you in my life. Jungkook wants you in his life,” you state. “But you have to be willing to move on from the past and accept what happened. Take accountability for the things we did and let it all go.”

Once you leave, Taehyung sits in silence as he stares out across the lake, sorrowful tears staining his skin. He knows you’re right about the past. It’s time to move on and start living the life he has now, but it isn’t easy when he’s spent so long just waiting for you to start your lives together.

The sun disappears from the sky before Taehyung comes to the realization he can still have that, just as you said, because being together doesn’t have to mean romantically. And truth be told, he needs his friends more than anything else.

He finds you and Jungkook at a picnic table outside the library about a week later.

Your arms are pushing at Jungkook’s shoulders to keep him from grabbing the candy bag between your legs. He’s sporting a mischievous toothy grin as he tries to maneuver around your hold to successfully steal your treat. You laugh loudly when Jungkook bites at the air in a feeble attempt to use his teeth as a method of thievery. It distracts you enough, though, and Jungkook uses the opportunity to snatch the bag from you before stealing a kiss, too.

“Nooo,” you whine as he laughs and eats your candy uninterrupted.

Taehyung clears his throat, and you both stop in your tracks, the candy bag falling from Jungkook’s hands onto the table with a soft plop.

“Hey,” Taehyung says through a chuckle. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for… well, there’s a lot, isn’t there?” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m just sorry, and if you guys would be interested, maybe we can all hang out sometime.”

For the first time, he looks at Jungkook instead of you, and watches the way his expression morphs from surprise to delight. In an instant, Jungkook is standing and rounding the table to bring Taehyung into a crippling embrace. Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, hesitant to show any affection in return, but then Jungkook rests his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder, and the bittersweet nostalgia makes him wrap his arms around him.

“I missed you,” Jungkook confesses.

Taehyung sighs and tightens his grip.

“Missed you, too… your Highness.”

“Don’t even joke, man.”

You squeal behind them, your feet tapping against the ground while you do a miniature victory dance from your seat. They both turn to look at you with completely endeared twin smiles, and you smile right back, head tilting to the right as your nose scrunches up.

The smell of wildflowers wafts through the air, despite there being none around, as if the universe is congratulating the three of you on finally making it back home to each other.

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this-blog-needs-a-name · 6 months ago

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One Piece Fic Recs

This is a list of incredible One Piece fanfics I have read either on Tumblr or Ao3 the majority of which are character x reader/oc.

📝 Ongoing/Unfinished

Long Works (>25,000 words)

It Comes in Waves by analogwriting Trafalgar Law x f!reader (71k)

The Bird & The Mermaid (Trafalgar Law x F!Reader) by BlackOrchid1004 (40k)

Small Changes by SweetScentences Platonic Law and Corazon fix it (37k)

The Daughter's Return by @cozage Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (126k)

Birds of a Feather by flyingfishgirl Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (74k)

Inked on Skin by Archaeological / @tackyink Trafalgar Law x OFC (385k)

📝 Home of the Sun by Nahella Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (167k)

📝 Free (Trafalgar Law/Reader) by ElenaMoon (153k)

📝 Throne by teroinreadsteroinwrites Shanks x OFC (41k)

📝 This is Us by Anonymous Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (90k)

📝 Card-Sharp by VintagexTypewriter Shanks x OFC (90k)

📝 Home Is Where the Hearts Are by brouhahas Trafalgar Law x f!reader (37k)

📝 Rare Whales, Shining Seas, and the One That Dreams of Them by NunTheWiser Platonic Whitebeard Pirates, Platonic Heart Pirates x OFC (339k)

📝 Bound by Silver by ToastedMilkBar Corazon x f!reader (46k)

📝 Immune To Your Charms by @grandline-fics Donquixote Doflamingo x f!reader (26k)

📝 Chaos in Their Bones by @eureka-its-zico OPLA Zoro x f!reader (148k)

📝 Determination! by @thesharktanksdriver Platonic multiple characters/crews x child!reader (69k)

Puzzled by @mynewblackdress OPLA Sanji x f!reader (35k)

Medium Works (10,000-24,999 words)

Epiphytism by Jarchetype Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (23k)

Little Blue Bird by MidNightWriter42 Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (12k)

📝 Affiliation by maybeitsdee Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (23k)

📝 The Beast and the Mouse by @simpleeindulge Eustass Kid x f!reader (12k)

📝 Little Game by @gingernut1314 Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (16k)

the blade daughter by @halfvalid OPLA Zoro x f!reader, Dracule Mihawk x daughter!reader (24k)

You Should Be Sad by @fanaticsnail Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (14k)

put my name at the top of your list by @ladadiida Sanji x f!reader (12k)

Through Shadow by @gingernut1314 OPLA Sanji x f!reader (10k)

Your Highness by @nanawritesit OPLA Sanji x f!reader (13k)

Come Sail Away by @sassenach-on-the-rocks OPLA Sanji x f!reader, OPLA Zoro x sister!reader (15k)

📝 Stowaway by @spitfire-of-the-sea Platonic Whitebeard Pirates x f!reader (10k)

#one piece x reader #one piece x oc #one piece recs #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x oc #marco x reader #whitebeard pirates x reader #whitebeard pirates x oc #shanks x oc #doflamingo x reader #mihawk x reader #corazon x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla sanji x reader #kid x reader #sanji x reader

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gmanweatherreport · 8 months ago

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OC TOBER DAY 18: SWAP okay i tried to make email and jiynt swap roles but this turned out like shitttt(that IS his last name but not his real first name lol read it backwards

#bweirdoctober #ocs #art created by me #their stories are somewhat similar already but this is an email social isolation au i guess #dr pepper is january f sharp and fursona swap jobs/species #hes probably isolated due to leaving his birth town expecting more and getting less instead #i think his dismay is sourced most from his trouble with keeping jobs and money therefore not being able to go anywhere else

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nanamiskentos · 7 months ago

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CREAM SODA — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → you've always known that gojo satoru is a real piece of work. arrogant, haughty. definitely has a praise kink for when people always call him 'the strongest.' but you're not even friends anymore, so this isn't any of your business...right?

what you didn't know is just how nasty he is, caging you in front of a mirror to lick away blood that he spilled from the veins of another man, one who dared to touch you.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. secondary love interest in the form of a random oc, jjk lore being mildly twisted, history around the world, in-jujutsu universe (not an au), gojo going feral and batshit bonkers, rough séx, créampíe, INSANE glass-shattering jealousy, hate séx but only a bit, brééding, oràl (f. receiving). enemies to lovers, former friends, PLOT AND WORLD BUILDING BTW this isn't pẃp, éxhibitionísm, mirror séx, overstímulàtion, bratty reader but with a reason to be a hater, working together on a mission, mentions of alcohol and the crime underworld, DEFINITELY a bit dark because reader goes through emotional whiplash, descriptions of a fight and heavy injury, biting because i always somehow write gojo as a vampire type of freak?? the PRIME example of the miscommunication tropes and a case where neither person is in the right...nuance is your friend here, fake bodyguard!gojo, reader wears a dress + makeup for a formal event, angst, hurt, lashing out, some comfort and fluff

excerpt: part of you knows that you just aren't seeing those pearly gates of heaven.

you know there's going to be a bouncer at the doors, with your face printed on a photo titled: dni! fraud! liar! the world's most incompetent jujutsu sorcerer! would bounce into a criminal's bed at first chance!

word count. 22k!!!!!!! AURKAY!! song inspiration. cream soda — exo, is there someone else — the weeknd

a/n. spent way too long trying to learn ps for the header 😭 wrote this only because of the new grey suit gojo art <3 there's a secondary love interest in this for the ✨ plot ✨ but he's just a character i made up for this story. i would have used one of the other jjk men but it would made it into an au that i didn't feel like expanding on 😭

mp3.. feel that tinglin', that silky smooth cream, each swirl deepens the flavor, babe. baby, go dumb dumb!

"f-fuck, if i had known it felt like this, would've stuck my fingers in h-her a long time ago," gojo unfurls his fingers that only just separated from your fluttering pussy, and you can only watch.

equally mesmerised as his slender fingers are coated in strands of your slick, clinging to the curves of his short nails and coating them in a mirror sheen.

"have some c-class, gojo! you've lost your fuckin' mind -"

smack!

the dewy pads of his fingers have come down in a harsh arc, slapping right at your throbbing clit, and the jolt sends such an incredible crack of lightning down your spine that you're bucking your hips back up into his hand, back for more.

"some class? hah, 'm not able to do that now, baby," and you can feel gojo shudder under your touch, as you paw at the linen of his black dress shirt, raking your nails over his pectorals, "not when it f-feels like your pussy is about to, fuck, vacuum my fingers off."

"i swear to god, gojo. never say that corny shit a-again."

but it's hard to convey any sense of righteous fury like this. not when he's back to pushing the tapered ends of his long fingers in and out of your tight heat. each brush from the pads of his fingertips leaves you squealing, tugging at the snowy strands on the back of his head.

but gojo's teeth are sharp as they sink into the damp skin of your neck with an almost reverent press, easily snapping through the delicate flesh.

and you're squealing, shocked at how fucking bold gojo satoru has become, whining at how a sharp hiss pulses through you, and you can feel the warmth of blood beginning to bloom and pool over your collarbone.

"shit, 'm sorry, baby. so sorry. but i'm gonna need to see you l-like this," and suddenly gojo snaps away the pussydrunk babble falling from his candied mouth, and he's pressing a searing kiss to your jaw, and the air becomes hazy with the scent of an insanely expensive cologne, cedar and something...sweet, like cardamom.

still, there's hardly time to dissect that.

not when his thick arm is around your waist, handling you until you're smack bang between his legs, right between dark slacks. and gojo has shifted, so your back is flat against the hard planes of his chest, and your knuckles can only grip at the vanity sink. so your eyes can only see your naked torso twisting in the mirror.

"keep your eyes h-here, sweets. on us."

wait. you need to pause this tape, and do a little rewind.

how did you end up here, getting finger-fucked in a luxury five star suite? by the one man on earth that you swore that you could never stand?

(earlier that day)

the chandeliers had been shimmering overhead like stars, each fine crystal caught the golden light and scattered it across the grand lobby, and it was making your eyes flare and twitch.

this entire hotel felt frozen in time, some opulent relic of the roaring twenties, translated straight into tokyo's beating heart.

it was all so...pristine, and gaudy. and even the air carried that faint scent of hefty chanel no.5 and furniture polish.

but hey, this cheque wasn't coming out of your pocket, so who were you to complain?

that's how you rationalised it to yourself, right after a smartly-dressed waiter had floated past with a tray of shimmering champagne, one that you had easily helped yourself to.

ah, fuck it.

let the bill rack up on yaga's card. the least he could do after volunteering you to the higher ups for this mission.

a thick folder rested in your lap, clipped papers inside threatening to spill over from the sheer volume of information, that made your head spin.

of course, it was all courtesy of the jujutsu administration's obsession with drowning sorcerers in needless bureaucracy. and so you leafed through it idly, your thumb skimming over the crisp edges.

names, places, dates, all laid out in haphazard detail.

what a mess, it was a lot, but not enough to fill in the gaps that gnawed at you. the higher ups never gave you everything, fuck, they hated making it easy. still, your eyes caught onto key phrases.

urgent recall of cursed object. yes, that's why you were here. and not enjoying your saturday afternoon at home.

declaration of most expenses covered, in the instances of losing a limb. fair enough, insurance was honestly hell these days.

gain access to the auction being held by the voiceless. find their leader, naoki sato.

you knew of the voiceless, most higher grade jujutsu sorcerers did. a crime syndicate so shrouded in mystery. operating overseas for decades without so much as a cloudy whisper to the general public.

you made an unimpressed face as you kept reading, crinkling sheets under your fingers. smuggling, extortion, and a great deal of unexplained murders that would leave the cast of criminal minds scratching their heads.

how tasteless. still, you weren't the law, each to their own.

however, something made this case different. it made it your apparent problem.

for the voiceless were not your usual ragtag team of ruffian criminals, intent on scamming the vulnerable and sad.

their ranks comprised of wayward jujutsu sorcerers, with a hearty appetite for special artefacts, including cursed objects.

and now here they were, back on tokyo's soil, their hands covered with more than just the regular mundane crimes that could land a man behind bars for life.

you shifted in the plush, sinking seat. flipped to a page that had been practically painted in the most unforgiving shade of neon yellow highlighter.

ah, so this was the cursed object. raijin's amulet.

there was a grainy, slightly off-centre photograph clipped to the top of the document. the image was not much to look out, all washed colours and shadows that clearly didn't speak highly of the skills of whoever was behind the camera.

a circular pendant, a darkened forged creation of bronze and jade, covered in the soot of the ages gone by. spiralled with intricate carvings that reminded you of swirling storm clouds on a summer's evening.

and at it's centre sat a jagged shard of some precious golden stone, rough-hewn at the edges.

you were certain that this was the cause behind the distorted photography, for a modern camera was simply just not meant to capture such high levels of cursed energy.

there was even a faint shape of a dragon coiled around the pendant's edges, with its claws gripping the frame as if guarding it...or imprisoning it.

you weren't sure which. you're not sure you wanted to know which.

the accompanying notes were sparse, filled with frustrated gaps that left you squinting.

believed to be an ancient relic of the heian era. captured from the treasure hoard of the early medieval sorcerer, ryōmen sukuna, after his death.

huh, you hadn't heard that name since your school-days, back when you had poured over fraying history tomes, trying to pen the perfect essay to beat out suguru's flawless grades.

said to be imbued with the power of the lightning deity, raijin. capable of summoning and manipulating thunder, and disrupting various veils and curtains. last known location: the british museum, 1982. current location: unconfirmed.

clearly not an artefact meant to sit behind public museum glass.

dangerous in the wrong hands, and priceless in the hands of all. this must have been at least leagues above your current pay grade.

your thumb hovered over the corner of the page, bruising the white paper underneath as you scanned over the rest of the text, hoping and looking for a section that would be titled: and here's how to track raijin's amulet down and find it, with no bloodshed, and just in time for dinner!

no such luck.

"figures," you muttered under your breath, shoving the folder shut with a disgusted sigh.

this entire mission reeked of playing politics. for years, the voiceless had operated under the radar of other nations, disguising the tell-tale jujutsu as unexplained natural disasters and accidents.

there had been no intervention. they had been untouchable because no-one had the foreign jurisdiction, nor the guts to intervene.

but now, with the voiceless back on home soil, it seemed the higher ups wanted to make a statement. something like 'hey, we're actually useful at our jobs of protecting the jujutsu world!' and who better to clean up their mess than you and...

gojo satoru.

speak of the devil. you glanced up towards the grand entrance of the hotel lobby, as an unfortunate doorman stood by revolving, glass doors.

your...partner strode in, with dark sunglasses perched on his nose, and you scrunched your nose, taking in his appearance.

despite gojo's striking features that could render anyone speechless, he always looked like an odd bird of prey to you.

hawkish with creepy eyes, like a big snowy owl that had been hit by a curse, transforming him and forcing him to assimilate into the world of humans.

"i wasn't sure if you would come," you called, hoping that you masked the bitterness well that he had arrived, and significantly decreased the quality of your day.

"you wouldn't say that in bed," was gojo's snarky, automated reply, before he gave you a mildly embarrassed look, as if his immature mouth moved faster than his common sense did.

"still, sorry to keep you waiting," and gojo was crushing the heel of his boot into the cream marble of the floor, tapping it, all ridiculously long legs in the same uniform dress pants that you also donned, "traffic was hell."

"you don't even have a license," you grouched with a glare that you hoped was sharp enough to cleave time and space, but you stood up all the same, "and i wasn't waiting, i was working."

click! click!

gojo snapped his fingers, reaching for the folder stacked in your arms, "yes, of course you were, sweets," and he clicked his tongue, "now, why don't you hand that to me, and go check us in? i can look over what i need to do, let's get this done before night falls."

the audacity. the absolute nerve. how so typically gojo. swooping in at the last minute for kill shot, as usual, while others poured through all the paperwork, and did all the mental heavy lifting.

"you mean what we need to do, gojo," you snapped, your scowl deepening, "you're the late one. you go check us in."

gojo arched a pale brow, and the corner of his mouth twitched as though he wished he could just unwalk through those doors now, caught between amusement and exasperation. "you used to be so nice. what happened?"

"tsk! i think you happened, gojo. didn't ask to be stuck here with you."

"ah, so you do think about me, at least. but now you're jus' so difficult all the time."

"fuck off, i'm not difficult!" you shot back, before shrinking at the foul look that an elderly couple had directed your way, muttering something about how youth just didn't know how to act indoors, "i'm just saying it's not fair -"

"fine, whatever. don't care, sweets," gojo interrupted, already rolling big, blue eyes and turning away, "i'll go do it. you just stay nice and comfortable here."

and just like that, after comfortably raising your blood pressure (and heart rate), gojo satoru strode off towards the vast front desk, hands shoved lazily into his pockets, as though the two of you weren't on the clock to hunt down and find a dangerous criminal, his syndicate and a cursed object.

you trailed behind him, resisting the violent urge to grab his stupid sunglasses and fling them across the lobby. or stomp on them.

or just sit on them.

meanwhile, your eyes landed on the last and final page of the file, where a bright pink sticky note stood out sharply against the dull black and white of the case file.

final task: retrieve artefact. execute naoki sato on site. alternatively, bring in for execution.

the words were scrawled in thick, impatient strokes of a black marker. the kind that spoke more of efficiency, than humanity.

typical. there was just nothing that higher ups of the jujutsu world loved more than lopping the head off anyone that they deemed inconvenient. quick, clean and final.

still, this decision wasn't your business, not really.

you looked up to see gojo casually leaning against the counter, and his entire demeanour radiated smooth confidence as he spoke to the receptionist.

the sweet-looking woman had fumbled her worlds almost immediately, and she had dropped her pen twice. and he had caught it with an easy smile and wink that would have made you roll your eyes clean out of your skull.

you wanted to gag.

in less than a minute, gojo had the black keycard in his hand, spinning it between his fingers like some trophy as he sauntered towards the elevators.

you sighed as he stopped in front of you, extending the card with a flourish, like a knight presenting a courtier with a wreath of fresh-cut flowers.

"we're here for a mission, gojo. not to get it wet."

the tips of his ears flushed a bright, vibrant red. but his grin didn't falter as he huffed, and snatched the keycard back. leaving your arm floundering in the air before you dropped it.

"how crude. that's not even what i asked her. but still, you're welcome, sweets," he had said, stepping into the elevator and holding the door open for you with an exaggerated stretch of his arm.

"i didn't say thank you."

gojo smiled, tilting his head in that distracting, no. what? in that irritating manner of his, "no need. i could feel the gratitude radiating off you," and he's crossing his arms against his broad chest in a way that made the tailored uniform seem unfairly snug, "warms my heart."

"what if you don't have a heart?

for a fleeting moment, something unreadable flashed in gojo's eyes, irritation easily — but something unrecognisable, but he must have smoothed it away with practised ease. for that same cocky grin returned like clockwork, infuriatingly charming and just as insincere.

"what if it only beats for you?" he shot back, wiggling his fingers dramatically, and the motion was so over-the-top that it leaned closer to sleazy than heartstopping.

"now i'm worried, you need to get shoko to check that out. sounds like a serious health issue."

"your tender concern for my well-being is what keeps my blood pumping," and you know that gojo has little regard for the personal space for others, the way that the distance between you is closing once more, in a way that makes your own pulse flicker.

"please," and you take a deliberate step back to reclaim your own space, "if i wanted you gone, i wouldn't waste my time hoping for a heart attack. i'd do it myself."

gojo shrugs, tilting his head like you had just told him a sweet joke, "you're cute when you're homicidal, y'know that?"

"and you're insufferable all the time. we all have our talents."

gojo's barked out a laugh, and the sound is annoyingly genuine. it has you grinding your teeth together, making your jaw tight.

"hey, gojo," you swivel back to the towering bean-pole behind you, leaning against a steel bar.

"mhm, what?"

"i'll give you a hundred thousand yen if you keep your mouth shut during the entire elevator ride," you mutter, staring at the ground floor map, and up to where your suite was meant to be, hands fiddling over the buttons.

"deal."

you glance back, "that easy? clan money running low, gojo?"

gojo sighs, shaking his (ridiculous) snow-cone hair, "you have no idea. spent it all on a sweet talkin' girl who kicked me to the curb. even took the dog with her. who takes the fucking dog?"

despite yourself and your iron-clad resolution to not validate gojo satoru in anything, you snort, the first genuine laugh he's pulled out of you.

you choose not to notice how his eyes suddenly seem a shade brighter, as you snicker, "you're so ridiculous."

he doesn't reply as you press an index finger into the cool metal of the elevator button, and you turn around to see him sadly miming out his broke plight, with a sack of imaginary things over his shoulder, jingling the few coins he has.

tsk. you bite your lip to stop the corners of your lips lifting up to match gojo's own, wrinkling your nose in faux distaste as you spin back around, with gritted teeth. away from the mild bane of your existence.

true to his word, and shockingly so, gojo stayed silent through the elevator ride. mostly.

you caught his restless sighs, the shuffle of his ridiculously polished boots, and the occasional sharp intake of breath like he was simply dying to say something, but kept biting it back.

good. for once, it was nice to make gojo satoru stew.

the elevator dinged, and you had already stepped out, planning to ditch him in the suite, but clearly, gojo had other ideas.

"alright, sweets," he said, hand extended, "i won the bet. hundred thousand yen, i can take a cheque too."

you stopped short, glaring at his outstretched (sculpted) hand.

"right now? just as we're gonna plan how to catch a criminal? can't we do a pay later type of thing?"

gojo's responding grin was wolfish, and his voice dropped enough to make you bristle, "sure. pay later, with a kiss."

your groan must have echoed down the hall, and without thinking, you shoved past him. your shoulder colliding with his chest in a way that was deeply satisfying.

"my kisses," you snapped, refusing to look back at him, "are worth way more than a hundred thousand yen."

gojo didn't reply immediately, no. and for a second, you thought had finally managed to shut him up enough for a moment's peace to gather the thoughts that the white-haired man always managed to unravel.

but when you dared to glance back over your shoulder, his sharp gaze was fixed on you, and his lips were pressed together oddly — the faintest dusting of cherry pink peeking out underneath his sunglasses, and falling over his cheeks.

nary a peep from gojo then, save for him rushing past you to slot the keycard into the door. but holy fuck, the sheer luxury of this suite almost made you forget that gojo satoru even existed.

sleek dark woods, glowing orange accents, and a massive window that offered a panoramic view of tokyo's skyline. and then, there was the bed.

ridiculous in its decadence. a king-sized masterpiece, draped in plush linens that looked softer than the clouds dotting the afternoon sky. framed by polished ebony bedposts that gleamed in the warm light of the suite. the mattress was practically calling out to you, to sink your back into it.

wait, where was the other bed?

"nope! absolutely not," you blurted, spinning on your heel to face gojo who had sauntered in after you, pausing mid-step and clearly, equally caught off-guard with a stunned expression on his face — before morphing into something maddeningly smug.

"what?" gojo said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "it's a bed. you've seen one before, right?"

you tried to speak in a way that wouldn't quite make it show that you felt like your tongue was lead, jabbing a finger at the bed as though it had personally offended you, "there's only one!"

gojo's lips quirked upwards, his blue eyes gleaming with that irritating mix of amusement and mischief, most likely derived from your displeasure, "now look at that, we can count to ten. baby steps."

"don't start with me," you snapped, "i'm not crashing out there. i'd rather sleep in the hallway."

gojo tilted his head, the white tufts of his hair falling around his face, as though he were considering the suggestion seriously, "not sure the hotel staff would appreciate you loitering in their five-star corridors. won't stop you though, sweets."

"you can sleep on the couch," you try to offer helpfully, relishing in how it's his turn to scowl at you.

gojo's glancing towards the sleek leather sofa in the corner, most likely worth more than your monthly rent, "tempting," he drawls, "but i don't think that thing was designed for someone with legs this long," and he's slapping his hands on his thighs, and you do your very best to not track your stare down.

"then curl up like the overgrown house cat you are -"

"fuck you mean by that?"

"or sleep on the floor!"

"i'm liking these options less and less."

but then gojo straightens, and you're starting to see a small tick reach to the corner of his bright eyes, the faintest hint of irritation seeping through his drawl, "you know, for someone so desperate to avoid me, you spend a lot of time wondering where i'm gonna sleep."

you hate the traitorous flush heating up your face, "i'm thinking about it because you're my problem."

"well i hope i'm at least your favourite problem," gojo murmurs, brushing past you to toss his dark bag onto the bed.

"so, what's it gonna be?" gojo's voice was a lazy purr, patting the mattress beside him with a grin that could have launched a thousand arguments, "join me, or keep fighting a losing battle? because -" he faked a yawn, "i think i'm starting to get a bit sleepy."

"sleepy? you're a grown man, and it's barely three in the afternoon."

gojo arches a pale brow, and you have to force yourself to stop staring at the pink curve of his lips, "and? scared you won't be able to resist me in the middle of the night?"

"you should be scared you'll wake up with a pillow smothering your face."

gojo sighs, melodramatic and loud, rolling over onto his back, "i'd rather be smothered by -"

"gojo!"

his laugh is low and rich, and it vibrates in the air in a way that make your teeth itch, and your eyes roll, desparate to change the subject and actually get back on track.

you shove the hefty file in his direction, letting him flounder to grab a hold of it, "last page. naoki sato."

gojo's entire demeanor shifts, and falls under the mention of the name, eyes a touch darker, and suddenly serious in a way that almost makes you regret being on the clock. but he's pushed himself up from the bed, his legs dangling off the edge.

"what about him?"

you frowned, still turning over the situation in your mind, "well, he's supposedly working out of this district right, i mean, even this hotel? but why? i always thought crime bosses had creepy lairs in dark alleyways or something. and not," you gesture to the five-star architecture around you, "this."

gojo's broad shoulders shrug in that lazy way of his, like everything was beneath him, but there was something else flickering behind his perched sunglasses, "i've never even met him. just heard of him," but gojo seems to be chewing each word, as if choosing them carefully, "but what i've heard? not your typical criminal? he flies high, lives the wild life out in the open, rich and shameless."

you privately held back any biting comment that came to you as easy as breathing, about gojo also being the epitome of rich...and shameless. time and place, yeah?

gojo, thank the lucky stars, had not noticed you fighting demons to keep a straight face, "but then every so often sato vanishes off the radar, and then, bam!" your partner splayed his fingers, "he strikes again. always showing in a different place. the united states, france, england, egypt..."

you raise an eyebrow, tapping at your phone, "egypt?"

"egyptian artefacts are ridiculously powerful, sweets. i mean, on a whole other level. they aren't linked with y'know...jujutsu," he gestures vaguely between the two of you, "but whatever they've got is ancient and ridiculously potent. last the higher ups heard, naoki sato managed to get his hands on an old obelisk."

you shake your head at the prospect, humouring gojo, "whatever for?"

"whatever twisted things he does in his free time, fuck if i know. but of course, he couldn't control it. instead, it summoned the spirit of a massive serpent, killed a bunch of innocent civilians."

you have the faintest collection of the mythos surrounding an ancient serpent, and the thought makes you shudder, "wouldn't the local authorities have arrested him for that?"

gojo pushes his sunglasses up his head, so you're now looking back at unblinking blue eyes ringed by white lashes, "how do you arrest a guy who's practically a ghost? they couldn't even find him after all that shit. besides, his technique is something else. enhance. practically has control over every cell in your body."

you nod slowly, hoping that you're piercing it all together correctly, "so this auction is because he's got more of these artefacts? like raijin's amulet?"

gojo nods sharply, and you're struck by the intensity of big blue eyes with whorls of storm clouds lingering between his gaze, "i guess even villainous criminals want to make profit. but we can get a front row seat to whatever he's planning next."

"and stop him before that."

"right. that's what i said."

your frown deepens, "how the fuck does an entire auction stay hidden from the public?"

after all, you had scoured the floorplan of this hotel from base to rooftop, and not a single room or corner would accomodate naoki sato, and the voiceless that follow him.

gojo shrugs with infuriating nonchalance, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of the bed, "there's jujutsu that can create entire illusions. beneath this very hotel lies an entrance to a hidden ballroom, but it's been in and out of use for decades. we jus' need to slip in, find sato, and maybe shake him a few times until he spills the amulet's location."

you cross your arms, and the unfortunate truth lingers on your tongue, "if it were that easy, the higher ups wouldn't have sent you with me as backup."

"was that a compliment for me? careful, you might actually start liking me now."

and at your affronted expression, laugher is spilling out gojo satoru, sharp and cocky and awfully infectious.

you hated the sound, not because it wasn't nice, but because it was. too rich, too easy. the kind of laugh, from the strongest sorcerer to walk the earth, that made you wonder if ever took a damn thing seriously. with the unfortunate side effect of questioning why it was so annoyingly attractive at the same time.

nobody should get to look that good while being such an unbearable ass. it was unfortunate, you thought grimly, how much you liked seeing him laugh though.

"i don't think i'd ever like you at all, gojo."

but alas, the world has a cruel way of making you wish that the earth swallowed you whole. and your heart and mind certainly aren't on speaking terms with each other to coordinate properly. for the barb flies out of your mouth like an uncontrolled reflex, a rogue arrow hitting its mark.

and you're left grimacing as gojo's smile stills. not vanishing completely, but frozen while something cooler and sharper slips into his gaze. the awkward silence that follows is loud enough to make you wince and pray that a lightning bolt strikes you down right now.

gojo gives a quiet cough, and you're wondering just how much of his nonchalant facade he has left intact. fuck, you were a bit of an ass yourself.

"ah, gojo. i didn't mean -" you started, stumbling over the words, desperate to backpedal, if only for the sake of the mission. right?

"don't strain yourself pretending," gojo cuts you off, and you're mildly stung by the smooth edge of venom coating his voice, despite his relaxed smile, "let's just get this job done, yeah? it's just us two here because no-one else could put up with you. i was the only one left who actually wanted to try."

well. ouch, that was a low blow. motherfucker.

your jaw tighten, and for a moment, all you can do is stare into vibrant blue eyes. surely, that wasn't true...right? and how awful that the sharp look in his eyes softened into a smug satisfaction as he registered how his own barb had found his mark.

now, gojo satoru is leaning back with an air of victory, crossing his arms as if to bask in it. talk about drawing more blood from a wound than necessary.

"you're awful, gojo," you bit out, praying that whatever tremor lives in your throat is not enough to appear in your voice.

"yes, i know. you say that all the time."

it was almost tragic, you thought bitterly, how in those fleeting few minutes, you had found gojo satoru bearable. likeable even. insightful, in his own smug way.

but now, the two of you were back to square one, staring each other down with walls firmly back in place.

sure, your quip had been mildly unnecessary, but it wasn't like he hadn't heard your blithe and bland comments by now?

but still, gojo's words gnawed at you. the idea that no one else wanted to put up with you, except him, of all people, burrowed deeper than it had any right to.

maybe it was petty, but you weren't about to let gojo satoru have the last word.

"remember that the higher ups want naoki sato executed," you said, breaking the terse silence.

gojo didn't even glance up from the file he'd been pretending to skim, his long fingers casually flipping a page. and that nonchalance made your stomach churn with irritation.

when he finally looked up, his expression was a mix of curiosity, and disdain, as if you had become a particularly stubborn puzzle that he'd decided was not worth solving, "yes, i know that too. so what?"

"you and i both know you've had trouble executing criminals in the past."

a calculated jab, sharper than they needed to be. and you saw the impact hit almost immediately. gojo's jaw tightened, and the glint in his frosty blue eyes disappeared, replaced by something darker, furious even.

suguru geto was still well and alive, often appearing on television as a friendly priest who would cure one of all their ails such as lower back pain or bad headaches, for the low price of joining the ranks of his organisation (read: cult). but he still remained a sore point for...everyone. you, included.

gojo, especially.

and now the air between you shifted, chilling like a winter draft had snuck into the room. your eyes fell on gojo's knuckles as they tightened around the file, his expression stony.

you shouldn't have felt proud of yourself for getting under his skin, for pulling a genuine reaction from him. but you did. you'd found a crack in his flawless armour, without needing to bypass infinity.

and it was satisfying.

"f-fuck you," gojo said finally, the razor edge in his voice was matched only by the glare he pinned on you.

you crossed your arms, doing your best to feign indifference despite the adrenaline surging through you. ignoring how you felt an awful pit in your stomach sprout, rendering you rather nauseous, and quoting his previous words, "don't strain yourself pretending it's not true."

gojo satoru's glower could have melted steel, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd gone too far. but he stood, slowly, his movements deliberate as he slammed the file shut with a resounding snap.

you watched as he snatched up his smaller bag, and swung the door open with enough force that you were surprised that it didn't fall off its hinges, "just be ready by the time i get back. 'm gonna take a walk."

and you were left, alone, in a room that suddenly felt so much more suffocating.

you weren't sure how long it had been since gojo had stormed out, leaving the room icy in his absence. you hadn't moved from your spot by the door, though you told yourself that you were entirely fine.

arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin, defiant line. but even as you stared at the dark panels of the door, the lie began to unravel.

you told yourself that you just didn't care for gojo satoru. that you didn't like how he was too loud, too reckless, too overwhelming, a force that just didn't fit into the neat confines of your world.

the heat rising to your cheeks must have betrayed you, as did the tight knot in your chest. it had been...not your wisest choice to lash out at him, or to even bring up his name. suguru geto, a wound that would never close for anyone.

but more than that, you hated the memory of his expression just before he left. hurt, and anger. and something far more raw.

he would come back, you knew that much. gojo was much too dutiful to leave a mission and abandon a chance to do some good in this world. it should have been a comfort, but it did little to ease you. instead, that certainty only twisted the guilt tighter in between your ribcage.

finally, you yanked the door open, fuelled by an impulse you didn't care to name. you wanted to catch him outside, mid-pace and brooding. just so you could say...something. anything.

but the hallway was empty, stark and silent, with only the dim flicker of warm light as your witness. you bit your tongue as your stomach churned sourly with disappointment.

and instead, you just slammed the door shut, letting the sound reveberate with just as much force that gojo had slammed the door with, on his way out. you leaned against the wood, closing your eyes as you did your level best to swallow that lump of regret making a home in your throat.

pacing helped for about...three minutes. shuffling through the case files on the table did nothing but remind you of why you were here, why you had both been sent. after all, was this mission not bigger than you, or him? was this not about bringing naoki sato to justice?

it didn't feel that way.

your gaze landed on the garment bag handing from the chair, untouched from when you had pulled it out earlier, back when gojo had been inviting you...to bed.

sort of.

you unzipped the bag with (mildly) trembling hands, letting the fabric spill into your grasp. no doubt that the dress was beautiful, a masterpiece of icy, powder blue and shimmering sequins that caught the light like scattered stars.

well, this had certainly been worth half your paycheck.

your fingers brushed over the delicate embroidery, and for a moment, you felt a mild sting of your own hypocrisy and yearning heart. you accused gojo of being cold, distant and unfeeling, and yet here you were, holding a dress that reminded you of him in every way. the pale blue of the fabric, like the frost in his storm-eyes when they rested on you for too long.

if you ever came face to face with cupid, you would beat him with a baseball bat.

you sighed, dropping the dress onto the bed before gingerly stepping out of your uniform, as cool air stung your skin.

what had you been thinking, treating gojo like that? he didn't deserve your anger, not truly. you knew how much your former classmate carried, how much he gave himself to this cursed and thankless world.

but of course, the little pronged-devil on your shoulder whispered around the shell of your ear. he often drew equal blood from stinging cuts, no-one wanted to put up with you, anyway.

still, there was no use in showing up to a gathering of some of the world's most rich, wealthy and seedy looking like a hollow and shaken ghost. and this mission was just not about gojo, it was about the greater good of the jujutsu world, and that's what you repeated in your head like a mantra, as you swiped plush-red across your cheeks and lips.

a diamond necklace around your throat was the final touch. well, you say diamond, but the truth was more...cheap. still, the strand shone in linked chains of pretty crystals. and that had still been a minor fortune for one who lived on a jujutsu paycheck.

the hours had stretched the afternoon into evening, settling a fragile calm over the suite that made you ache to stretch your limbs out, and take in some fresh air.

but the silence was shattered by a sharp knock at the door, purposeful and deliberate. and it made you freeze, hands still resting on the straps of your glitzy shoes, a frown knitting your brows.

gojo had the keycard, did he not? but who else would be banging your door down?

with a sigh, you stood and lifted the hem of your dress as you crossed the room. opening the door with every intention of scolding him for whatever drama he was dragging in this time.

instead the words just about died a sad and lonely death on your tongue.

gojo satoru.

for a brief second, your thoughts emptied entirely, as though he had cast infinite void right over you, leaving you staring with a heart that hammered like a caged bird.

gone was his usual, drab uniform. instead, he had swapped the dull fabric for a sleek, black dress shirt that clung just right, paired with a crisp, grey jacket that framed his broad shoulders.

you tried to not let your gaze linger on the open gap right under the white tie that hung slightly loosened from his neck, where silk kissed creamy skin.

but gojo’s face was unreadable, distant and cool. you hated how his mere presence always seemed to tilt the world off its axis.

and you blinked, forcing your mouth to close, and you stepped back to let him in.

"you’re late. again," you snapped, but your voice lacked its usual venom, tempered by the sharp edges of minor guilt that refused to settle in you.

"whatever. ‘m here now, aren’t i?" gojo’s tone was casual, but his eyes lingered a second too long, leaving your skin prickling with self-conscious awareness.

it seemed that the universe needed to hit you with some karmic intervention, and you decided to take the rare moral high ground, "about earlier," you began, trying to steady yourself, "i shouldn’t have said -"

"forget it, sweets," gojo interrupted with a shrug, though his jaw was tight, "i’m not keen on hearing excuses. i get it."

you bristled, biting back the immense urge to shove him, an urge that becoming disturbingly frequent, "i wasn’t making excuses," sounding out each word slow and deliberate. anger simmering under the surface at his holier-than-thou attitude, "that was an apology."

that made gojo pause, and now he fully turned to you, expression shifting. though it was hard to read, caught between painful acknowledgement and absurd pride that would include him admitting that he was affected by what you said.

"tch, they’re not even real," you blurted, then immediately regretted it, what was wrong with you today? you reached up, fingers grazing the cool crystals as if to shield them from his bemused scrutiny, "just thought i needed something to fit in."

gojo slid a pair of tinted sunglasses from his pocket, sliding them up his nose, smooth and practised, "in a room full of the filthy rich and tastelessly overdressed?" his pink mouth twitched, "you’ll fit in perfectly."

gojo was right. this was just…tacky.

the ground floor of the building had been nothing but a sleek, cold lifeless maze of marble, and now he had led you down into what could only be described as a scene for criminals with bad taste. an abandoned parking lot stretched out in front of you, a grimy stretch of concrete that left you expecting a quiet dead end.

until gojo waved his hand, and the illusion clearly met for non-sorcerer eyes shattered.

before you, a set of massive double doors emerged, seemingly from nowhere, and the lifting of the veil had left you disoriented, nauseous. but when the doors swung open, you almost felt like you were stepping into a warped fever dream.

this room inside was the most bizarre mixture of garish opulence that you had ever seen. gold…everything. the walls plastered in a deep red, like someone had dipped the entire place in velvet swathes and then covered it with more gold leaf.

plush, overstuffed settees sat like soft, jewel-toned thrones in every corner, and glass boxes lined the walls, each holding what looked like nothing more than expensive junk, tacky figurines and diamond-encrusted trinkets.

it was the kind of place you’d absolutely expect a mob boss to call home after a particularly long, indulgent afternoon making questionable life choices.

the hall reeked of wealth, the kind that demanded to be seen. opulence dripped from every corner — gilded fixtures, crystalline chandeliers, and glass displays showcasing treasures that screamed money but whispered nothing of taste. you twitched as you passed a goblet encrusted with enough jewels to buy a small city-state. the thought of how much it probably cost made your stomach twist.

"focus," gojo muttered at your side, his tone clipped. he squinted slightly, his sunglasses doing little to shield his six eyes from the garish light that spilled over the room like liquid gold., and you could tell it was a bit...much for his senses, making him blink rapidly. "we’ll sweep the displays, see if the amulet’s here."

you tilted your head, gesturing toward his snowy mop of hair, the unruly strands falling messily over his face and grazing the edge of his glasses. "and you’re sure they won’t recognise you, in this whole...circus?"

gojo's responding glance was sharp, flat, and utterly devoid of humour.

"most of these people wouldn’t recognise a threat if it was biting them in the ass," he said, voice low and laced with disdain. "they’re not sorcerers. just your garden-variety rich and bored — criminals, trust fund brats, maybe a politician trying to look cultured. the kind of people who buy antiques because they match their curtains and makes them look good for their friends."

the corner of your mouth betrayed you, twitching upward at his cutting dismissal of the glittering nonsense around you. he had hit the nail on the head, making contempt seem like an art form.

and worse, you hated how there was something almost…sexy about it.

the thought hit you like a slap, and you forced it down immediately. gojo and sexy didn’t belong in the same sentence. not in the same universe. fuck, not even as a passing joke.

"charmed as i am by your high opinion of humanity," you said dryly, trying to ground yourself in sarcasm, "maybe don’t make it obvious you hate everyone here. we're not here to arrest every person in this room."

gojo snorted softly, his lips curving into what might have been a smirk — or at least the ghost of one. "you think so little of me. i don’t hate everyone." his eyes flicked toward you, just for a second, before returning to the vast hall ahead.

it wasn’t much. barely a glance of electric blue. but it was enough to send your pulse into a sprint, and fuck him, he had to know it. you turned your attention to the nearest display, praying he didn’t notice the warmth blooming in your cheeks.

traitorous.

"let’s just find the amulet, and sato. and get out of here," you said briskly, your voice a shade too sharp.

"mhm," gojo's voice was infuriatingly calm, but when you looked up, his gaze wasn’t on the displays. it was on you.

"you look lost."

a voice, smooth and low, slid over you like silk, stopping you cold in your tracks. it hadn't come from gojo by your side, thank the heavens above, but it didn't make your heart any steadier. you turned towards the source, and your stomach did a three-point flip.

well. hello, gorgeous.

the type of good-looking that just felt unfair. the type that made you forget your name for half a second, and then hate yourself for it. the strnger stood out against the room of puffed-up men in overpriced suits, glittering with real diamonds of their cuff-links, and rolled cigars in their hands.

your eyes fell on dark auburn strands that fell in perfectly tousled strands over his forehead, and a tailored black suit that hugged a slender waist.

"i hope you didn't wander into the wrong hall," the stranger said, curling his lips into a faint smile, fraught with suspicion as it was.

you forced yourself not to stare — at an absurdly sharp jawline, at big brown eyes. but words were a different matter entirely. you struggled to conjure them, grasping for anything remotely coherent.

you settled on an appropriate response.

"um. no, we didn’t."

not your finest moment. not even close.

before you could mentally regroup with a few brain cells, a sharp jolt yanked you back to reality. you sucked in a sharp breath as gojo's long fingers pinched the underside of your arm, a deliberate sting that left you glaring at him.

he didn’t even bother to meet your eyes.

his entire focus was fixed on the stranger, his posture taut with unspoken tension, gojo's jaw clenched so tight you thought he might crack a perfect tooth.

the air shifted subtly, a faint hum of energy emanating from gojo. you knew that hum. it meant trouble. gojo, ever the master of simmering hostility, was gearing up for something, and he was looking weirdly agitated.

and you found it tasteless to jump the first person you had run into here.

"i usually know most of the guests at my events," the stranger continued, his voice calm, unbothered — but there was an edge to it, like he already knew the answer to the question he hadn’t asked.

oh.

you felt your stomach plummet as recognition dawned.

naoki sato.

no wonder gojo looked ready to snap someone in half. naoki wasn’t just anyone — he was the head of the voiceless. the host of this auction. the man whose fortune was built on enough shady dealings to fill a large library. the one who had more blood on his hands than those who had been dealt life sentences.

one of the most wanted jujutsu criminals in the world.

"you've — " gojo started, his voice sharp, but you cut him off with a forced, almost too-bright smile.

"you've thrown quite the party," you said, your words tripping over themselves as you elbowed gojo subtly, hoping to god he’d take the hint. "i’m actually quite new to the area. just exploring, hoping to find something good tonight."

gojo let out a low grunt, a sound that promised retribution later. you ignored him and plastered on a wider smile, one you hoped would distract from your partner's upcoming reversal: red.

"and, ah. this is my bodyguard...genji," you added, giving gojo's arm a firm retributive pinch through the fabric of his jacket.

the look he shot you could've melted steel, but you held your ground, determined not to let him ruin this.

if for once, he could take your plan into account, a great deal of bloodshed could be avoided.

naoki's faint cherry smile widened, bemused, "your…bodyguard?" he echoed, gaze flickering to gojo satoru.

gojo who stood like a coiled spring, gojo who certainly was no method actor. his icy glare practically speaking volumes of 'i will burn this room down.'

"well," naoki drawled, his tone almost playful now, and you flushed, "i hope you find what you’re looking for here."

behind him, his entourage, a cadre of hulking men stuffed into suits barely containing their bulk, followed with synchronised precision. they looked more like walking fortresses than bodyguards, with their cold and suspicious eyes cutting through the room as they passed.

one of them shot you an odd look, and you forced yourself to feign interest in a nearby display of sapphire-encrusted forks.

the moment the criminal was out of earshot, gojo leaned down, "genji? really?"

you shrugged, ignoring how you felt your nerves fray. and refusing to meet him half-way, "what? okay, i panicked. it was the first name i thought of."

"yeah, that was so convincing," gojo muttered darkly beside you, and you caught some bitten off words about how he was never going on a mission with you again, how yaga should never have roped him into this.

all things you blithely ignored.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was furious. it rolled off him in waves, the tension in his posture, the barely audible hum of cursed energy still crackling under the surface.

"we don't even know where the amulet is. and imagine if we show up in front of yaga without it. you can do whatever you like with him after we get our hands on the cursed object," you whispered back, pretending to study the ridiculous cutlery with exaggerated focus.

gojo lowered his head, as though he suddenly saw the worth in gemstones embedded in cutlery, but just enough so he could glower at you. "you're flirting," he hissed, "i could have blasted through half this room, and just finished the job by now."

you coughed and hackled, "not all of us think effective battles are fought with a hollow purple."

"and not all of us,” gojo bit back, "feel the need to blush like schoolgirls the second someone bats an eyelash at us."

heat shot through you, part anger, part something you didn’t want to name. "blush?” you snapped. "i wasn’t blushing."

"you just wanted to jump his bones. thought we weren't here to get it wet."

"i'm not entertaining this conversation," but your voice was mildly higher pitched, drawing attention, "is that why you were there? standing like an idiot, or a jealous ex-boyfriend?"

gojo's sneer faltered, just for a split second, but it was enough to make your heart lurch with a strange, vindictive triumph.

"i wasn’t jealous," he said, "i was doing my job. y'know, being a jujutsu sorcerer. bringing a criminal to justice."

you opened your mouth, ready to retort, but no words came. because he wasn’t entirely wrong, and that infuriated you more than anything.

so instead, you lifted your hand, placing it firmly on his shoulder, onto the crisp and fine fabric of his jacket. you didn't miss the way he stiffened, briefly disarmed.

"look, i've got this. just stay close."

gojo's jaw tightened, and you could feel the unspoken protest simmering there. before he could get a word in, you turned away and called out.

"hey! naoki!"

the red-haired man stopped mid-stride, turning his head back toward you with a quizzical look. the confident words you’d planned evaporated the moment his sharp, brown eyes pinned you in place.

"i mean, naoki sato. mr. sato," you fumbled, mentally kicking yourself.

brilliant start. truly one of jujutsu tech's finest.

naoki raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from confusion to faint amusement. his gaze flicked to gojo, who had crossed his arms like a fortress of disdain and immense ill-will.

"found something you like?" naoki asked smoothly.

you ignored the huff that escaped the white-haired man next to you, and forced a smile, "actually, i was hoping you could help me choose something out. i'm not an expert here, and there's just so much to see."

naoki's bodyguards shifted, their expressions darkening as if you’d committed some unspoken faux pas. but the crime boss merely tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"ah, well," he said, drawing the word out lazily, "i don’t usually get this forward with my clients, but i suppose i'll make an exception."

his eyes slid once again to gojo, who was now glowering at a waiter hovering too close to his personal space, on the edges of infinity. "your bodyguard," naoki added helpfully, "can walk behind you. perhaps he'd like a drink to keep him occupied."

gojo's snarl could have peeled garish paint off the walls, "i don't want it."

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the stubborn ass.

instead, you pasted on a smile, tight and sweet, and shot gojo a look that could cut glass, "our host is offering you something. you want that drink, genji."

"i don’t want cream soda," gojo muttered, all mulish in his six foot three glory.

gritting your teeth, you flashed naoki a helpless look, like what can you do? bodyguards, am i right?

and you reached for the waiter's tray, grabbing a tall glass of the offending soda and thrusting it into gojo's warm hand. then you leaned in, your voice a whisper, "take it. smile and act normal. ten minutes, that’s all i need."

for a moment, his blue eyes locked on yours, a storm of irritation twirling in them. you were now close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, close enough to notice the faintest hitch in his breath.

but gojo, for once, didn’t argue. with a final glare, he downed half the glass in one long, defiant gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing as he drank.

naoki laughed, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement, "you're very kind to the help. shall we?"

you shot gojo satoru one last look — a mix of triumph and warning —before stepping forward.

but your partner, predictably, looked like he'd rather swallow glass than stand a moment longer here. still, bodyguard is as bodyguard does, and he trailed after you like a reluctant shadow.

"i must admit," naoki began, his brown eyes catching the glittering lights as they swept over you, "it's rare to see someone so beautiful at these things. i think i would have remembered seeing you before, too. i'm usually stuck with old men trying to swindle me out of my fortune."

a flush climbed up your neck, unwelcome and irritating at what must have been calculated words, enough to flatter and also to disarm.

behind you, gojo audibly scoffed, clearly abandoning all manner of proper etiquette. you glanced over your shoulder to see him gripping the stem of a champagne flute, his knuckles white. the empty glass of cream soda had been abandoned in favour of something stronger.

he caught your eye and rolled his, making a slicing gesture at his neck followed by a pointed hurry up motion.

"ignore him," you murmured to naoki, pushing forward.

naoki’s eyes gleamed with amusement, easily unbothered as he gestured for you to continue walking. "does your bodyguard always look like he’s seconds away from murder, or is this special treatment for me?"

you didn’t dare look back at gojo, “he’s just protective," you said carefully.

naoki chuckled, "protective, sure. but of his job...or you?"

the words struck a nerve you refused to acknowledge, so you pressed the conversation forward. ignoring the jitter that erupted in your stomach.

"can i ask...," you said, tilting your head just enough to feign casual curiosity, "are these all cursed objects? or just pretty trinkets?"

naoki's amusement didn’t falter, but his gaze sharpened, assessing you like you were a puzzle he was only now beginning to piece together.

"why?” he asked smoothly, "are you interested in jujutsu? i thought you were here to...browse."

fuck, caught, but not completely.

you played it off with a small shrug. "some members of my family dabble in jujutsu," you said, letting a sliver of truth escape, but letting the rest of your words drip with lies, "i can only see curses, i'm not a sorcerer. but most of my family still hates me for how i was born."

behind you, gojo shifted, his movements a touch sharper than before. he hadn’t known that, hadn't known the small truth that you had snuck into your words.

but naoki's expression softened, his smile more thoughtful now. "that’s rare. and often not appreciated, i imagine.”

you hesitated, cautiously, but nodded. "not by them, no."

"i understand. my parents hated jujutsu. thought it was unnatural, and against the way of the world. my grandfather...he was the only one who didn't," and there's a quiet sincerity threading naoki sato's words, "he raised me when my parents refused to. at least, until he passed."

something in his story tugged at you — a familiarity you hadn’t expected. your family’s disdain for your own jujutsu, their rejection, mirrored in his words. it was unsettling, but oddly not unwelcome.

"i’m sorry about your grandfather," you said softly.

"and i, about your family,” naoki replied, a calm mask settling over his features once more, reminding you so painfully of the sorcerer who trailed behind you, "no-one should be made to feel lesser, sorcerer or not."

you caught your lip between your teeth, hoping the red stain didn't catch onto your teeth, "i thought most sorcerers hated humans."

naoki shrugged, "we aren't all that different. all flesh and blood with temporary lives."

oddly wise words from a mass murderer, thief and criminal.

you glanced over at gojo again, and just as you predicted, his scowl deepened and the glass looked like it was about a shatter in his hands. if looks could kill, naoki sato would be the first to go, no questions asked, followed by you.

naoki snickered, "your shadow grows restless."

"ignore him, please," you muttered, stepping closer to a glass case to distract yourself, "what’s this?"

naoki followed, stepping closer so you could catch the scent of expensive almond and saffron, "ah," he said, gesturing at the artefact inside, "a blade, from ming dynasty china. the jade serpent on the hilt grants its wearer the ability to control minds. some say it can even raise the dead."

the claim sent a shiver down your spine, but you masked it with feigned interest, nodding as naoki moved on.

"and here," he continued, pointing to a golden ring, with an oddly boyish grin for someone dealing in murderous items, "the lion's eyes. said to see through any veil, any curse. the last treasure of the dynasty of the pharoahs."

you tried to listen, but gojo's presence loomed larger with every word. his disdain for naoki sato, his barely concealed anger at the stolen objects— it was all too palpable. when you glanced back, his scowl had deepened, and the champagne glass in his hand looked on the verge of shattering.

if looks could kill, naoki sato would already be six feet under. you would be next on the list.

you swallowed hard, turning back to naoki sato and pointing at the next display. "and this?"

naoki pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, "the broken english crown. apparently worn by the last king to die on the battlefield, and i haven't tried it on," he shares this with you, with a conspiratorial smile, "but legends say it fractures the bones of anyone deemed not powerful enough to wear it."

this criminal was not what you had expected at all. it was hard to reconcile the image of a hardened criminal with years of ruthless ambition, with this effortless charm and disarming way of making you lose the blurred line of correct propriety. you tried not to stare at how the warm light caught his auburn hair, like the autumn leaves in the dappled sun.

and yet, it wasn’t just his looks that threw you off. it was the way he carried himself — like he had nothing to prove and everything to hide. dangerous in a different way, one that was far harder to guard against.

it reminded you of gojo satoru.

"you know, i have to admit," naoki said, gesturing to the gilded displays around him, "most of this stuff? tacky as hell. but then, you would be surprised what most people would pay for tacky."

from a swindler, fraud and scammer? you were quite sure.

"funny, coming from someone whose livelihood depends on it. isn't that gaudy by association?"

naoki winked, and you averted your gaze from long brown lashes fluttering against soft skin, "touché. but people don't want to just buy the artefact, or the cursed object. they want the story. that shit's priceless."

you swallowed, focusing on how gojo was trying to draw your attention to a glass case hidden by all the others, and you hoped you weren't squinting, "so, you're just a storyteller then?"

but beside you, naoki sato tilted his head, "you could say that."

you thought of the clipped photos printed into the file. some in black and white, and some in raging shades of colour. where naoki sato's hands had painted entire buildings in shades of sticky red, and heads rolled on the floor. where his enhance technique could burst arteries and lungs, leaving people in pieces on the floor.

"sounds dramatic," you said, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

"life's dramatic, and too short to not take what i want," naoki replied with a faint smile, his hand lightly brushing your waist as he guided you further past long tables.

you leaned into it without thinking, a tiny movement that made a creamy, berry flush paint over naoki's features. and the sorcerer's laugh was warm, low, like he’d already won something you didn’t realise was at stake.

behind you, a sharp cough broke the moment.

gojo.

you let your lips curl into a faint smile and leaned into naoki's just a fraction more, with a very deliberate look, one that spoke of triumph and having tamed a beast.

gojo's scowl deepened, his shoulders taut with barely restrained frustration, and he started mouthing at you, silent as his lips parted. if you read his mouth carefully, well...

he was calling you rather unflattering names.

"what's that?" but it was gojo's voice that roughly cut through the air, like gravel grinding underfoot. his shaded eyes were fixed on the glass case tucked in the corner.

you followed his gaze, past his outstretched arm, and your stomach twisted.

raijin's amulet.

the cursed object you’d been hunting, the one you’d sworn to protect at all costs, gleamed innocently behind its protective glass. you could recognise the serpentine dragon coiled protectively around the stone at its centre, its intricate carving daring anyone to claim it.

your frantic eyes met gojo's. his were sharp, seething. then, both your gazes flicked to naoki.

naoki, of course, noticed nothing — or pretended not to. he let out a soft hum, following gojo's pointed stare.

"the bodyguard's interested too?"

you coughed, cutting through the rising tension before gojo could turn that look into something explosive. the glass case between them might as well have been kindling for the fire brewing.

"it's mainly for academics," you said, feigning an air of curiosity. then, with practiced innocence, you tilted your head and smiled at the dangerous special grade cursed object as if it were nothing more than an ordinary trinket.

"but it’s so pretty. what is it, really?"

naoki's hand tightened subtly on your waist, and you tried to ignore the guilt that bubbled up in your chest when his sharp features softened at your feigned interest.

"it’s just an old thing," he said, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret meant only for you, "did you know it once belonged to ryomen sukuna?"

your mouth was dry, but you kept your face blank, tilting your head as though you’d never heard the name before, "sukuna?"

naoki pressed his palm to the glass case, his expression shifting into something darker, more reverent.

"the king of curses," he murmured. "lived over a thousand years ago. ruthless. when he died, most of his treasures were plundered by clans too greedy for their own good. but this..." he tapped the glass softly. "this one? it wasn't easy to get my hands on."

you leaned closer, feigning fascination while calculating your next move, trying to figure out how you could get close enough to that glass case without shattering the illusion cast on naoki sato, "what does it do?"

for a moment, naoki's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. but just as quickly, his expression smoothed out, and he chuckled.

"trust me, beautiful," he said, his voice like silk with an edge of warning. "you don’t want to wear that thing. i could get you something far more...safe."

you forced a smile, ignoring the chill that ran down your spine. instead, you threw a quick, desperate glance at gojo — a silent plea for the strongest to listen to you: i'll distract him. you get the amulet.

gojo's expression tightened, but his head snapped once, briefly, in the faintest hint of acknowledgement.

time to move.

you let out a soft, breathy laugh and tugged naoki toward a table, your hand brushing his arm with casual ease. "let’s sit," you suggested, leaning into his toned chest just enough to sell the act. "all this walking is making me tired."

naoki's laughter was warm, a touch too easy, and he let you guide him without resistance, "tsk, whatever you want," he murmured.

now you're trusting gojo satoru, simply because you had no other choice. he had to get the amulet out of the glass before alarms began to blare, and before needless blood was spilt over the glimmering floor.

and so you sat, letting naoki have his back to gojo, oblivious to the white-haired shadow slipping closer to the case. your eyes lingered on gojo, pulse racing each time he disappeared behind one of naoki's own burly guards.

but then naoki sato's gaze locked onto you, drawing your attention back with a searing warmth that caught you off guard.

"so," he asked, eyes glinting, "what do you think of all...this?"

"it's impressive," and you're surprised at how the truth has found a home in your mouth, "i didn't ever think of different sorcerers, around the world."

naoki leaned closer, with his elbows on his thighs, propping his face upon his hands, "most people don't. here, it's all about jujutsu. tokyo, this. kyoto, that. the higher ups are so narrow-minded. stuck in their ways, obsessed with tradition. they don't know anything about the world out there."

for a moment, his words startled you. they weren’t the boastful musings of a crime boss but something else. they reminded you of how gojo spoke about the rigidity of the old ways, about why he fought so hard to change things, to create a better world for jujutsu sorcerers.

ah, focus.

"hey," naoki suddenly said, pulling you out of your thoughts. his gaze was sharper now, more intense. and over his shouder, you caught the faintest blur of white hair in the background, gojo's movements.

but it was hard to focus on anything but naoki sato's face — the sharp lines softened by his proximity, the warmth in his dark eyes that you didn’t want to admit was almost magnetic.

he was a man marked for execution, and the warrant must have been burning a hole through your suite on the highest floor.

yet here he was, looking at you like you were something worth risking everything for.

and suddenly, you weren’t sure you wanted to see autumn's locks matted with rusted blood. to see eyes go dull and lifeless.

you felt like you had the moral spine of a sponge.

"can i kiss you?"

the question hit like a punch to the gut. your lips parted, but no sound came out. and suddenly, the steps in the background stopped too.

naoki's hand came up to your jaw, his touch unexpectedly reverent, and all you could think was: distraction. right. distract him for gojo. what the fuck is taking him so long?

so you closed the distance.

naoki's lips captured yours with a softness that disarmed you, but the kiss was anything but tentative, and you could taste a sweet tang like lemons and sugar. but you let his large hands pull you closer and his touch was warm and intoxicating.

the kind that made you forget, just for a moment, that this was all a ruse.

his lips moved against yours with a heat that made everything else fade to black, and his hands slid down your waist and back, tracing lines that felt dangerously real.

when you finally pulled away for air, your lips tingled, and your breath came in short bursts. you couldn’t help yourself — you reached up, your fingers brushing against his now-flushed lips, glossy under your touch, and you hated the way your stomach twisted from the way naoki sato melted under your touch.

focus, again.

you hoped, prayed, that gojo was doing his part, taking advantage of the way you had naoki sato, one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, wrapped around your finger, and bruising his tongue into your mouth.

but your gaze flicked upwards, past his shoulder and collided with something that stopped your heart cold.

electric blue. devastatingly vibrant, crackling with a fury that hit the air like a thunderstorm.

gojo's eyes pinned you in place, shadows pooling in sharp cerulean, from shades that had slipped just a touch down his nose. no mask to shield whatever expression gojo had clearly painted across his face.

hurt? anger? what the fuck, was that betrayal?

your throat tightened, and you resisted the urge to dig your nails into naoki's tailored jacket, to hiss at gojo to get a move on. to stop standing there like he had been hit with a shovel.

but the words didn't quite form, didn't pull at the corners of your mouth to silently shape them. his expression just held you captive, no. shamed you.

and that made you angrier. he had no right to look at you like that, like you had just crossed a line that you didn't even know was there.

but under you, naoki shifted, tilted your chip up to meet his lips again, and you let him. you...wanted him to. but the heat of his lips didn't drown out the chill of gojo's stare. your own body betrayed you with a shiver, one that you couldn't quite place yourself.

nerves, or desire.

the kiss was firmer this time, insistent, as if naoki sato was staking his claim in front of an invisible audience. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw with maddening ease, over the pulse of your neck.

and for a second, it was too easy to fall into the lie. but you felt it: the searing weight of gojo's glower burning into you, not far away.

naoki pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning your lips, "hey, you're distracted," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his eyes scanning your face as though he wanted to read every thought. "should i be offended?"

"no," you said quickly, almost too quickly, "just a lot to take in."

naoki smiles, all coy and glazed lips, clearly pleased by what he thought was pure flattery, and not the glowering six-eyes shining behind him. "good. i think 'm gonna like leaving you speechless."

part of you knows that you just aren't seeing those pearly gates of heaven.

naoki's warm thumb lingers against your jaw, and your breath hitches just enough for the sorcerer to notice. you don't miss how his eyes darken, a hint of triumph gleaming in them.

you risked a glance past his shoulder again, and gojo was still there, stony-faced as naoki's own guards. but there's something else broiling in his eyes, rolling over his face like a thunderstorm cracks over a grassy plain. the fury in his eyes hadn't lessened, but now it was laced with something sharper, something that you can finally read.

jealousy. absolute glass-shattering, world-stopping levels of envy paint over gojo satoru's face.

the realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

was he jealous of naoki sato? of you? of this entire charade that you both had agreed to? or rather, the one you had roped him into.

the idea shouldn’t have thrilled you, but it did. and it terrified you just as much.

you let naoki kiss you again, forcing yourself to deepen it this time, your hands coming up to rest against his hard chest. you don't miss how he suddenly parts from your lips, panting softly into your mouth, and suddenly you're hit with the most awful wave of longing for a man who cannot have.

naoki’s large hands, however, weren’t idle. one brushed the edge of your dress, under the shoulder strap of your powder-blue gown, his thumb grazing against the fabric, and your breath hitched.

you shift, your breath stuttering as naoki's other hand slides higher, his fingers brushing against the flesh of your thigh, pushing your dress higher, and his hand brushes against the silver details on the side, scratching your skin. it's maddening how cool air meets the heat of your now exposed skin, and naoki's mouth crushes against yours, as if he's equally savouring the taste of you.

"t-there are people here," you gasp, your voice a fractured whisper, trembling at the edge of composure, "what if they can see or watch?"

gojo satoru is here. gojo is watching. you know your partner is close enough to hear every breathless sound you make, every treasonous whine that slips past your lips.

but naoki sato's mouth is curved into a plush, wicked smile, "let them look," and his teeth are grazing against the curve enough in a way that makes you arch your back into him, he who is now leaning over you, as if he's the one trying to capture you, "who cares - hah?"

any reasonable thought of your duty. of honour, of a mission flees from your head.

the sight of gojo's softly parted mouth and darkened eyes as he watches you in another man's arms spurs you on, and you let naoki sato press his lips against the hollow of his throat.

naoki's long fingers are blazing as they reach the very apex of your thighs. as they press two rough pads into the sopping slick that's gathered in your panties, as they run themselves along dampened fabric in a way that has you openly keening.

"can i?" and your eyes meet the mahogany gaze of the man above you. it's electrifying. you should be ashamed, furious at how you're just being taken like this, on display. but this is a room of the seven deadly sins, where each corner of the room is a lesson in hedonism, and obscene wealth.

"please."

but your eyes are only on gojo satoru behind him. on how he catches the pale-pink of his bottom lip between his teeth, and his face is seething. how his darkened eyes drop to naoki's hand working its way between your legs, and you wantonly roll your hips up to meet him there.

you let writhing fingers slip under the waistband of your pale-blue underwear, dipping into glossy, thick arousal. but you also don't miss the tent in gojo satoru's grey slacks, only metres away, and the frenzied look making him look pained.

you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy moaning openly, spreading your legs just a bit wider, so gojo could get a glimpse of your drooling cunt.

"fuck, 's good. so good, naoki."

a finger travels up, away from your winking entrance to press a soft flick against your throbbing clit, "yeah?"

and the beautiful man in between your legs all but purrs. pleased beyond measure at how you've apparently been captured, heart and soul by him. and your attention snaps back to how he suddenly draws his fingers off your soaked cunt, and brings them up to his mouth.

"sweetest thing i've ever tasted, i think 'm gonna have -"

and then, it hit you.

a hot, sticky spray of liquid.

the scent of iron slammed into your senses as fresh blood splattered across your face, your chest, and stained the delicate blue of your dress into a deep and damning red. it clung to your skin, to your lips as you pressed your mouth shut, fighting the bile rising in your throat.

reversal: red crackled in the air, cursed energy humming sharp, and it had sliced through the hall like a whip. naoki's arm had been torn from your waist, wrenched away as he staggered back with a guttural hiss, and you avert your eyes from the blood that paints the space between you.

"that's enough."

gojo satoru's voice is like a thunderclap, reverberating around your ears, and when you finally meet his gaze, you're met with unbridled fury. you're not sure where his shades have gone, but you're met with the full weight of six-eyes, blazing and unrelenting.

naoki stumbles ahead of you, clutching his shoulder where blood seeps through his fingers, torn between shock and raw rage. his cherry-lips are curled back into a snarl, flush with indignation.

"hah, you're a sorcerer?," and naoki sato's voice drips with venom, heavy with disbelief.

you're not quite sure gojo satoru needs to answer. not when his presence alone sends waves of cold through the hall, cutting the air precisely, cleaving it.

but there's a man running towards the commotion, a guard encumbered by a hefty black suit, and there's a cold shock that runs through you as your eyes fall on the gun at his side.

"we think that's gojo satoru," the guard wheezes, breathless.

"you're telling me this now? i gave you fuckwits one job," naoki snarls, shaking the man, with his nails dug into the guard's shoulder.

and you're quickly pushing your dress down, letting the fabric spill over your legs once more, fighting back the hot sparks that sting at your eyes.

it's enough to snap naoki's attention back to you. and for a moment, for the briefest of moment, he wasn't the hardened criminal you had been playing this dangerous game with. a boy your age, wild and beautiful, and utterly undone.

and it heaves your stomach at how the fury in his gaze trembles slightly, just enough to reveal betrayal underneath that strikes you harder than any limitless could.and it struck you harder than any whip of magic ever could.

"i must be stupid, fuck," naoki's voice cracks as he spits the words, his expression twisted with something raw, something painfully human, "you’re a jujutsu sorcerer too, aren't you?"

the accusation was a dagger, his voice trembling with disbelief but its wholly true, and your head wavers in a half-shake, half-nod.

"you’re with him, aren't you? just another one of the higher up's lapdogs?"

the words weren’t a question — they were a condemnation.

naoki's lips are curled, and his bloodied arm is now trembling but steady, defiance burning through the pain.

and a whisper in your mind tells you to smash the glass case holding the amulet, to push through it with your bare hands, just so you can bleed alongside him.

but naoki sato's bitter scoff shatters that thought, and his gaze must have followed yours, sharp and knowing, for his hand has moved faster, pulling the gun from the guard's holster.

the blast came before you could even think, loud and jarring.

but you never saw the bullet's path, only gojo.

gojo, whose arm has snapped in front of you like a barrier, impossibly fast, and well within the bounds of his infinity. as if he had tore through space itself.

the bullet collides with infinity, ricocheting into the chaos of the panicking crowd.

naoki’s gaze didn’t waver. it slices back to gojo, sharp, calculating, and darkly amused. he must have seen it now, everything.

the truth was etched in the way gojo had positioned himself, the way his blazing blue eyes never left you, the unspoken claim humming in the air like a second heartbeat.

naoki sato's laugh is lower, bitter, and you watch the mesmerising plink! of crimson on the floor.

"he's protecting you, isn’t he?" his voice dripped with venom, each word striking like a dagger, "how sweet.”

and just like that, something broke. gojo's restraint, most likely.

you can see how his fingers are flexing, his hands lifting and cursed energy is coiling at his fingertips. his thumb and index finger brush, a telltale sign of an impending blast. hollow purple.

you clench your eyes shut, bracing for the devastation of the impact —

but naoki sato was faster.

his arms snapped outward, a surge of his own jujutsu ripping through the space between you. the bodyguards around you crumpled like ragdolls, their bodies bursting under the pressure. blood sprayed in thick, sticky waves, painting the walls, the floor — against the edges of infinity.

you opened your eyes in time to see gojo falter, his hands trembling as he stared at the carnage. even he, the unflinching sorcerer, the strongest, looked shaken by the sheer brutality of what cursed technique: enhance was capable of.

and in the heartbeat of his hesitation, naoki was gone.

"fuck's sake! s-satoru! let go of me!" you snap, voice cracking with fury as you fight against gojo's tight grasp.

his vivid focus shoots back to you, his expression a storm of anger and disbelief, "what?" and gojo's voice is razer-sharp, "if you think i'm letting you go after that stunt you pulled -"

"shut up!" and you can feel your own desperation cut through the air, "you go after him, i'll go after the amulet."

you toss your head to the shattered glass and the chaos erupting all around you, "if that thing gets lost in the mess, we've done this all for nothing!"

gojo's jaw is clenched, his mouth pressed into a hard and furious line. for a moment, you think he's going to argue with you again, but then you're dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

pain shoots through your knees as you land, but you're soon hauling yourself up.

"go!" you hiss, shoving at his shoulder, "i'll come find you when i have it."

gojo hesitates for a fraction of a second longer, then he's gone — a blur of movement faster than your eyes could track, leaving you alone in the chaos.

your hands tremble as you grab a heavy steel bar from the wreckage, swinging it with all your strength at the glass case. the sound of shattering glass barely registers as you reach inside, your fingers curling around the cold, smooth surface of the amulet.

wild shocks run through you, and you almost keel over, feeling the rush and pulse of such a cursed object against your skin. but it's safe. you have it now.

with it clutched tightly in your hand, you turned and run.

by now, you can't find it within yourself to stop the hot tears from running down your cheeks, streaming freely as you tear through the blood-soaked scene.

you run, the air sharp and cold against your skin, your heartbeat an unrelenting drum in your ears. the thump! making your head pound.

you can follow the residuals of gojo's cursed energy, lingering like a sickly beacon, drawing you back to the dull parking lot. you pushed open the doors with both hands, red smudging onto the concrete as you ignored the sting of your palms

and then you saw it. saw it all.

the scene hits you like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath clean from your lungs.

a body lies crumpled on the ground, its lifelessness more harrowing than the carnage that surrounds it. blood, thick and sticky, smears across the concrete. massive pillars, toppled like a child's toys in the wake of a clear explosion.

your gaze snags on a limp hand sprawled on the floor, and you feel your stomach twist. instinctively, your tongue slides against the back of your teeth, and the metallic tang of iron is already sleeping into your senses.

and then, there was gojo satoru.

he stands amid the wreckage, like a figure carved from shadows, and ice. and fury. his chest softly rises and falls, as though he had been running for miles, his hair disheveled and darkened with sweat.

the sight of him might have almost been human, almost comforting. if not for the gore streaked across his hands, and the thing he drops onto the concrete with a hollow thud.

you don't look at it. you don't think you can. your stomach knows the truth before your mind catches up, bile heaving within you once more.

the head of naoki sato. he would never have stood a chance against the strongest sorcerer in modern history.

final task: retrieve artefact. execute naoki sato on site. alternatively, bring in for execution.

you mind flashes back to that dastardly pink sticky note, still stuck to the case file.

what did you feel now? anger? sadness?

maybe both. maybe neither.

the blood pooling in front of gojo is already congealing, its sickly shine dimming in the cold, fluorescent light of the lot.

you were tired of seeing blood, of tasting it on your tongue, of breathing it in like the very air you needed to survive.

you’d thought there would be relief in the end. but instead, disappointment had rooted itself deep inside you, twisting itself.

naoki sato, for all his crimes and cruetly, had been...something. somewhere beneath the sly smirks and sharp words, there had been glimpses of something that almost looked like hope. he had said he wanted better — for everyone. for you. was it a lie? or had you twisted his words into something more comforting than the truth, desparate to see light where there was none?

your throat burns, but no tears come. just a hollow ache that matches the cold weight of raijin's amulet in your hand. you looked at it now, the thing you’d fought so hard to win, its edges biting into your skin, the dragon leaving its mark.

gojo's voice cut through the silence, low and ragged, and tired, "don’t look."

you hadn’t even realised you were staring, your eyes hovering dangerously close to the lifeless hand on the ground.

"i'm sorry," he had continued, his tone strangely neutral, as if apologising for a cracked glass rather than the irrevocable violence around him, that seemed to trail after him, "i had to do it."

you laughed then, short and bitter, the sound cracking like a whip against the cold air. "had to, gojo?" your voice trembled, not with fear, but something darker. something far more raw.

his gaze had snapped to you, and there it was — the thing that always churned between you two. a storm of emotions, tangled so tightly you could no longer tell where hate ended and yearning began.

"you think this is the resolution i wanted?" gojo shot back, his voice laced with something too jagged to be regret. "you think i enjoyed that?"

and in the most twisted, perverse theatre of your mind's eye, you see gojo's open-mouthed stare, focused on how another man touched you, made you his.

"i don’t know what you enjoy anymore," you take a step closer, your grip tightening on amulet until your knuckles whitened. but the air pushed from your lungs, "but - god, gojo. forget it. i-i don't even know. 'm sorry, too."

gojo sighs, and you see the exhaustion hanging over him too, "we'll go back tomorrow morning."

the walk back to your room is…suffocating. the air is thick with everything that you just cannot say, words that you can't even bring your heavy tongue to shape.

gojo is beind you, and you can feel the weight of his presence pressing between your shoulder blades, but you just can't turn around. you don't dare to. raijin's amulet is still clenched in your hand, and its edges are cutting into your palm, a form of self-flagellation you suppose.

you push the door open, and your breath catches and hitches as you slip inside, slamming it shut after he follows. locking it with shaking hands.

in the suite, the moonlight now slices through the half-drawn curtains, as the tokyo skyline glimmers underneath you. it's painting silver lines across gojo's spectral frame, and he strides to the amenities sink, a smaller outlet near the door.

you watch, as though you're holding a sacred vigil.

your gaze doesn't leave gojo's figure as he throws his jacket off his sharp torso with a disgusted sigh, leaving him in his black dress shirt and a loosened tie.

still watching as his movements are tense, restless as he cups water from the faucet in his hands, splashing it onto his face.

when he finally looks up, gojo's white is hair dripping, his tie slightly askew, and his tired eyes catch yours like a snare.

for a moment, you’re frozen. neither of you say a word. the air feels too thin to breathe, and his gaze is too much — too piercing, too relentless, too him.

you can’t take it.

with a sharp motion, you slam the amulet onto the table, the sound echoing through the quiet room. you spin on your heel and lock yourself in the bathroom, shutting him out.

inside, the luxurious space feels surreal. marble floors gleam under the soft glow of recessed lighting, gold fixtures glinting and stinging your eyes. it smells faintly of jasmine and mint, too perfect for the mess you're about to create.

you grip the edge of the sink as the first sob wrenches its way out of your chest, hot and raw.

tears spill over, cascading down your cheeks in waves you can’t control. they come faster, harder, until you’re gasping, choking on gulps of air that burn in your throat.

you sink onto the cool floor tiles, your knees pulled to your chest as the sobs wrack your body. the weight of everything, what you did, gojo's eyes gleaming, naoki sato's hands on you, the smell of blood, it all crashes over you like a tidal wave. it’s too much for a human heart to bear in one night.

but your hands are shaking as you reach for the hem of your once beautiful dress, peeling it off with clumsy, desperate motions. the air is cool against your skin, you who is now left in undergarments.

and you stare blankly at the blood that smears your arms and legs, before grabbing a small towel, dampening it under the sink and wiping crimson stains away.

small cuts sting on your skin, faint patches where glass struck you, and you hiss.

a knock rattles the bathroom door, sharp and unrelenting, dragging you back to reality.

you close your eyes and exhale through gritted teeth, your voice brittle, "not now, gojo."

silence follows, stretching out long enough to offer the illusion of peace. but then it breaks. another knock, louder, more insistent this time.

"satoru, i swear to god," you snap, your exhaustion fraying into something sharp, laced with more venom now.

there’s a sigh from the other side, audible even through the thick wood, "don't make me blast this door down."

you groan, rolling your eyes as you toss the bloodied towel onto the counter, "you wouldn't dare."

"try me. just open the door, would'you?"

you don’t have the energy to argue, and something in his tone tells you that gojo isn’t bluffing. and so you dragged yourself upright, swinging the door open with more force than necessary.

gojo stands there, with damp hair still clinging to his forehead, beads of water trailing down his templates. and his sleeves are rolled up now, revealing thick forearms flecked with rust and crimson. it wouldn't be his. no, gojo hasn't bled in over a decade.

you straighten, aware of your own state right now. in your undergarments, only shielding you from being entirely bare under his gaze. but the only clothes in this room with you are now crumpled on the floor, in a heap of ice-blue and dark red.

let him look. he's seen more than enough now.

and so you lean back against the sink, crossing your arms as your eyes meet blue, "what do you want?"

gojo hesitates, his jaw tightening as he braces himself. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough around the edges, "just...asking if you're alright."

the laugh that escapes you is sharp and hollow, devoid of any humour, "why wouldn't i be?"

gojo's faze flickers, his expression unreadable, but his eyes linger a moment too long. you let him trace the dried blood smeared across your collarbone, the faint scratches on your skin.

"after all of that tonight..." he starts, but the words hang in the air between the two of you, unfinished. his voice suddenly falters, and you're struck by how gojo's razor-sharp confidence has dulled into something weaker, more conflicted.

you know exactly what he means. the stunt he's referring to, in his own earlier words. you wonder what exactly is eating at him now. is it honest concern, pride? residual envy?

"please, trust me. i'm fine, we managed to do what was asked of us, anyway," you clip curtly, hoping your tone is final enough.

gojo looks at you like he doesn't believe a single syllable that slips from your bitten lips, but then his shoulders sag and he exhales sharply, "fine," he mutters, turning on his heel as if he's the one that can't stand to be near you any longer.

"wait."

the word slips out before you can stop it, and gojo pauses, and his eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

you swallow hard, suddenly unsure of yourself, and lift a clean towel from the counter, helping yourself to another one of the hotel's free amenities, "can you help me with this?"

an olive branch.

you gesture with a single finger, over dried blood that has streaked over your back, your neck. the hollow of your collarbone.

you can see the refusal dancing on his tongue, the hesitation in the way his throat bobs, and how gojo's eyes flicker over you once more.

but he doesn't refuse. gojo just wordlessly steps forward, taking the towel from your outstretched hand. you watch, silently, as he moves to the sink and runs it under cold water. you're sitting on the edge of the counter now so you face him, watching the warm golden glow of the overhead lights in his pale hair.

the porcelain is cold against your thighs as you angle yourself away from the mirror, facing gojo. the towel in his hand drips faintly, and you watch as he hesitates again, just for a fraction of a second before stepping closer.

at first, his movements are slow and careful. he's raising the towel, and his hand is steady as you feel the first touch of the cool fabric against your back. a shiver practically races down your spine, not from the cold, but from the way his arm snakes behind you, brushing against your bare skin.

it's subtle at first, but you notice it. the hitch in his breath, the faint tremour in his movements.

gojo, who is always so infuriatingly composed, is shaken. you hear it in the sorcerer's uneven exhale that he doesn't quite manage to suppress, the way his fingers press the towel just a little too harshly.

the suite is silent now except for the faint drip of water and the rasp of fabric against your skin. you should say something, anything, but the words don’t come. instead, your gaze fixes on him, his profile illuminated by the warm glow of the bathroom light.

gojo's features are always striking, almost ethereal: the ice-white hair that falls messily against his forehead, the long white lashes that frame those sharp, cerulean-blue eyes. there’s something softened by the warm light, as though the harshness of his presence, of a man who stands above heaven and earth, has been dulled just enough to make him seem almost...human again.

but you feel as though your heart must just give way, pounding so hard that it may burst. where the blood that fell from another man's veins had somehow drawn a line to gojo satoru instead.

an hour ago, you had been arched into another, naoki sato, one who had been a dead man walking. an hour ago, his hands were on you, his lips hot and insistent, and his eyes were warm, and now he’s gone. dead. gojo made sure of that. and that was always meant to happen.

the thought should make you furious. it should make you push gojo away, but instead, all you can do is sit there, feeling his hands —gentle now, impossibly careful, on your skin.

it's wrong. it's so deeply, fundamentally wrong, and yet the space another man left feels like it was carved out for gojo satoru all along.

gojo's touch slows as he runs the towel over your skin, tracing the line of your collarbone with a precision that feels almost tender. your eyes slip closed for a moment, the warmth of his hand lingering even as the cold water wipes away the blood.

then he moves again.

it happens fast enough that you barely register it. one second, gojo satoru is standing tall and focused on the task, and the next...he's leaning down. his breath ghosting over the hollow of your neck.

you feel your entire world tilt as his lips press softly against the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, a touch so light that it feels stolen.

but now you've frozen, every breath catching as though the air was snatched from your lungs. every nerve feels as though it's on fire, hyper-aware of how soft the brush of his lips was, the faint scrape of his teeth just shy of your skin.

how gojo's lips were almost reverent, like a prayer offered in silence. how he was worshipping something he couldn't ever have.

but your eyes snap open to meet his.

gojos's cerulean eyes are molten, the usual ice cracked and melting into something deep and desperate and all-consuming. they bore into yours, wild and unguraded, and the pale lashes framing them tremble lighting as though even he's unsure of what he's just done.

but gojo's pupils are also blown wide, and electric. like a storm trapped in glass.

you swallow hard, your pulse thundering in your throat. slowly, cautiously, you dip your head, just enough to give him permission without saying a word.

the look in his eyes shifts — hunger, disbelief, and something darker all tangled together. he presses his lips to your neck again, firmer this time, lingering as though committing the feel of your skin to memory. then again, slightly higher, his breath hot and uneven against you.

"satoru…" the name slips from your lips in a whisper, trembling and unbidden.

the warmth of his tongue catches you off guard, tracing the curve of your neck in a way that sends a jolt through your entire body, heat down to your thighs. it's...unhinged, but the part of you that should push him away is nowhere to be found.

gojo pulls back just enough for you to see the faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes remain dark, intense, and burning with something that feels too big for the room.

"another man got to taste you," he whispers, "now i've tasted him."

you almost laugh, sharp and bitter. the sound lodging in your throat. the absurdity of it all, the jealously lacing his words like a poison vine, the way his breath still fans against your skin.

"that's insane," you manage, your voice shaking. it does little to stop the searing heat curling low in your stomach.

for a second, gojo's breath is still hot against your neck. and then suddenly, his hands are on you.

and fuck, it's not delicate at all. there's a roughness to his touch, desparate and unrestrained, as though something inside him as finally snapped.

his palms trace along your bare shoulders, sliding down to your arms, and then to your waist. his fingers press into your skin with a heat that makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. you don't even realise when you had opened your mouth slightly, panting as if you're trying to pull more air in.

"gojo," you manage, barely audible, and you're acutely aware of the low tense ache beginning to throb in your groin.

his hands slow for a moment, resting on your sides as if he’s trying to ground himself, or stop himself. and gojo's eyes find yours again, and they’re ablaze.

"can i keep going?"

you wonder just how you've managed to unravel this man, to leave his voice hanging by a thread in the air.

you don’t answer right away, your head swimming with confusion, slick desire, and something dangerously close to surrender. gojo satoru is watching you so intently it’s like he’s searching for every unspoken answer written on your skin.

finally, you shift — subtle, but enough. your knees part slightly, just enough for him to step between your bare thighs.

"what do you want me to do?"

you're aware of the insistent, rhythmic pulsing under your panties. of how every small shift of gojo's body against yours amplifies the soft arousal forming, as your heart pounds faster.

and so you let your fingers hook onto the pale waistband of your underwear, and you watch as his gaze follows your movements.

"i want you to touch me, there. please."

you hear the white-haired man breathe out a thankful, reverent fuck before he's following the path of your own hands, hooking a slender finger into your waistband and pulling your underwear down, and off.

and you're so painfully aware of your own arousal right now, the wet that is pooling beneath you. it feels like a relief, parting your legs so your searing heat meets cool air.

"that's perfect, look at t-that," and you're suddenly whining as gojo's fingertips begin grazing sloppy folds, raking themselves over your fluttering entrance, "she's practically been beggin' for my touch all this time, hah!"

"you - ohh, gojo!" you moan, feeling awfully faint from the rippling warmth making your cunt tighten around him, each pshh! echoing in your burning ears, "y-you wish!"

gojo's laugh is a little crazed, undone as he rolls his fingers in practiced curls, at an inhuman pace. bullying his fingers into your opening, as he rasps, "yeah, i w-wish. 'm wishing for this all the time. you never knew, huh?"

"f-fuck, if i had known it felt like this, would've stuck my fingers in h-her a long time ago," gojo unfurls his fingers that only just separated from your winking pussy, and you can only watch.

equally mesmerised as his slender fingers are coated in strands of your slick, clinging to the curves of his short nails and coating them in a mirror sheen.

"have some c-class, gojo! you've lost your fuckin' mind -"

smack!

"i swear to god, gojo. never say that corny shit a-again."

but gojo's teeth are sharp as they sink into the damp skin of your neck with an almost reverent press, easily snapping through the delicate flesh.

still, there's hardly time to dissect that.

"keep your eyes h-here, sweets. on us."

and god, that's exactly where your eyes are. falling on a tense forearm around your waist, as the other works its fierce way through the clamping, gummy walls of your leaking cunt. and you're shuddering underneath him, feeling each brush of his fingers in you.

"w-we make a pretty sight, don't we, yeah?" and the words are spilling from gojo's lips with a certain smugness, but it's rough around the edges, strained. and you just can't look away from how utterly ruined he looks, from touching you.

you watch the glossed shine of your trickling pussy twinkle in the warm lights, as gojo pushes your thighs open wider. his frame leans over yours, taut and straining. and his lips are flushed and parted, betraying the deep ache of his breath.

"go onnn, say it. c'mon," and now gojo's whining in your ear, letting his hand push further into the mess as your pussy is practically weeping onto his fingertips, "won't let you c-cum if you don't say it."

your chest heaves with each desperate, gulping breath. and you can see gojo's vision narrow on how your tits threaten to spill out from their confines, the swell of your chest rising as you try to draw air through your close orgasmic daze. where the edges of your vision blur, and your heart is pounding erratically, "ahhh, gojo! 'm gonna, i think 'm gonna, oh my god!"

but there's more, you want so much more.

and against better thought, you push and elbow back into gojo's chest, heaving as he flicks his thumb over your aching clit.

"hah, what is it now? fuck was that for?" and the man is scowling at you, seemingly irritated that you drew him away from the hypnotic pull of your pulsing walls.

you swivel, away from the mirror so you're facing him. and your eyes fall on the heavy, pitched tent in gojo's grey slacks, one that must be aching and awfully painful from the way he's running his pink tongue over his bruised mouth.

"wan' more, gojo. on the bed."

you've reached up behind your back, unhooking the clip that was holding your bra together. it falls, and you toss it into the pile where gojo had flung your clingy panties, over your gorgeous dress.

and you think gojo satoru might have just had a minor heart attack.

his expression has shifted, lips parted as he takes in your naked form. you think you hear his breath hitch, as his eyes roam over you, unblinking. you're certain that the mildly brighter light in the room has nothing to do with what's overhead, rather the bright blue of gojo's six eyes.

you snicker at his dumbstruck expression, letting your hand curl around his wrist — marvelling at how he almost whines at the sight of you pushing him out of the bathroom suite, and onto that glorious bed that the two of you had argued over earlier in the day.

"n-not so opposed to sharing a bed with me now, sweets? oh, fuck," you don't let him get any more words out, since you're reaching for the sleek leather belt threading through the loops of his slacks, pawing at them so you can finally undress him. have him as bare as you are now.

something in your desparate touch must have made gojo snap, because now he's shuffling the two of you around, so you're practically splayed out under his warm, large hands. thighs spread, parted so your dripping cunt is displayed to the room, as he scoots closer. his knees pressing against the carpet.

"hnnghh, f-fuck, look at her. practically cryin' on me."

and what a sight. gojo satoru, the most powerful man to walk this earth in centuries is slumped beneath your thighs, close enough to your clit that when he breathes, he knocks his nose right over the sensitive bud, coating his face in that syrupy glaze.

and then its slow, painful. how his long tongue descends onto your weeping pussy, writhing flat in wide, broad strokes that leave you whining out his name.

you spread your legs even wider, fighting against gojo's tight grip on the flesh of your thighs. the thighs that are trembling as he brings his teeth up to graze your clit, and your arousal drips from his lips. making candied pink lips look like they've been glazed and dipped in sugar.

briefly, in the back of your mind, you wonder how you're going to continue to function tomorrow. how you're going to even be able to walk after gojo satoru has rendered you boneless.

you also wonder if there's a cosmic deity out there, looking at an invisible and heavenly camera with a dull look on their face. something like what can you do?

"mmhph, y'know i l-like this a lot better than that drink from earlier," and he's cooing at how you squeal and moan, "hah, what was that s-shit called? a cream soda."

you pull at the white strands of his hair, yanking gojo's head back from where his tongue had been lolling around your clit, ignoring his whine, "if y-you make a stupid, fuckin' joke about creaming, i'm g-gonna leave."

gojo rolls his eyes, but this time? this time, there's no malice in it, no irritation. his expression is almost fond, if not shadowed by the enormity of his own lust, "leaving before the main event is dumb choice, sweets."

"tch! get to i-it then, oh! what the fuck, gojo!"

he's found the right place to prod, to roll his fingers over the hood of your clit, occasionally propping his mouth down to suck at it lightly. your mouth is clamped shut, so you don't release an absurd amount of babble, wordless and airless about how good he's devouring you.

"hah," gojo huffs, pressing three flat fingers against your entrance, letting them curl into your walls, enough to tease you, "i can feel her beating for me. 's pulsing all over."

"c-can't you jus' make me cum?" your hands are desparate for some friction, running past your perked tits, down to his hair again. now clamping your thighs around his head, and the soft, snowy hair of his head tickles at your skin.

"can' believe you're talking shit when i'm e-eating you out," gojo chuckles, but you're just too mesmerised by the glint of your slick lighting a beacon over the lower half of his face, strands of slick as he pulls away from your pussy, "y'not that patient, huh?"

he's practically attached to your clit now, kissing it with a tender and yet firm press of his lips, seemingly aware of just how sensitive you are to that type of pressure.

you whimper and mewl as gojo's head disappeared back between your legs, deeper and lower as his tongue pushes into your pussy, flicking shallow thrusts that makes you breathe out gasps of his name.

"now i think 'm gonna cum, so close, satoru," with your hand firmly lodged in his platinum strands, you're rocking your hips messily, sloppily against his awaiting mouth.

"y-yeah? go on, sweets," he's moaning now too, and you don't miss how the edge of the bed rocks just a bit from him grinding the frame for some release on his own erection.

your orgasm makes your mind foggy, and you practically quake in gojo's large, warm hands. with a sharp cry of his name, followed by an endless chant of praise for the unearthly man between your legs, lapping at you as though you are his last drink, his last meal on this earth before he ascends elsewhere.

the hard streaks of white shoot through your vision, even as you come down from the incredible high, and you realise gojo has not stopped.

gojo's jaw is still locked as your slick dribbles down your folds, into his open mouth and onto his waiting tongue. the extra stimulation makes you deliriously cry out, "fuck, s-satoru! 's too much, holy fuck!"

you were still shaking, and a second orgam blurred your sight into an incredible spectrum of colours, white hot starlight and streaks of blue. that cascade of vivid tints flood your vision, each one jerking your hips and cunt forward until you felt your legs give way.

until gojo finally separated himself from your thighs, satisfied at how he had pulled two climaxes from you.

he's absolutely lost it, lost in that daze of being pussywhipped, and his eyes gleam with a feverish intensity. and when he crashes pink, glossy lips down on your mouth, you can feel him shake under your touch.

you moan, loud, as he nips at your lower lip. at how you can taste yourself on his tongue, syrup strands falling into your mouth as gojo suddenly twitches.

"i think 'm gonna have to be in you right now, otherwise i'll literally fuckin' die."

a breathy laugh falls from your lips as your partner pulls himself up, heavy limbs finally extracting themselves away from your naked body, reaching up to hook his fingers over the black crinkle of his rumpled dress shirt, pulling the fabric off.

leaving your mouth dry.

the moonlight spills over gojo's torso, and you track your eyes over his broad chest, rising and falling and flushed from his own arousal.

you follow the faint dusting of pale white hair as it disappeared past the waistband of his slacks that he's quickly making short work of, and you feel your pussy clench thinking about how badly you need to jump gojo satoru's bones.

but you're too transfixed by him, by the sculpted figure of a supposedly cold and arrogant bastard you've spent months and years rolling your eyes at.

he's real. all hot flesh and blood, and stunning. not that sneering, and infuriating man who's always one step ahead, always one callous word away from making your blood boil.

for a different heat has settled in you now, as your eyes fall on his throbbing cock that has sprung forth, up over his stomach. the tip is an angry, and furious berry-pink and you wonder just how you're going to make these inches fit.

"hah, didn’t think you'd be this shy, you know,” he says, voice a low, husky tease, as if he’s been watching your struggle. gojo's eyes glint with amusement, but there’s something deeper beneath it, something that you hope with lead him to take mercy on you.

"n-no. no," you repeat yourself more firmly, but it's far too breathless to be convincing, "no, 'm not shy."

but it's hard to form coherent thoughts when gojo satoru is towering over you, and his absurdly long and girthy shaft is twitching in between your slick folds.

"fuck you, s-satoru," you're whimpering, feeling the pulsing, rounded head of his flushed tip brush past your sensitive, drooling slit, "taking too long. jus' put it in already."

"mhmm, sweets," and gojo's bustling at your thighs now, pinching the soft and tender skin in retaliation for your touch undoing him so easily, "she can't even be patient, hah, trus' me. just lay back."

you comply, just this once. just because gojo satoru's cock looks so big, you think you need to gather all your thoughts so you'll be able to form coherent sentences later.

resting your head back on plush sheets, with the skyline twinkling in your peripheral vision as gojo's aligning himself with your cunt. he's gasping in low, shuddering breaths as his tip teases and hooks onto your inner walls.

"look at thaaat, oh! baby, fuck, wasn' even joking before, just sucking me up so fuckin' good!"

you don't reply, just mewling as he pushes inch after veiny inch into your dribbling walls, gasping as his large hands rest on the back of your thighs, pushing them further up so he can slot his torso in between your legs.

"oh my god, satoru! s-satoru, hnnhgh, it's too much — i don' think it's gon' fit," you always thought you would be embarrassed to lose composure like this in front of gojo, but you find yourself panting into the crook of his neck, raking nails down his flushed neck.

he's big, and you can feel every vein of his tapered curve hitting the right spots within you, as you shift your hips, desperate to let his sinuous cock kiss every inch of your pussy lovingly.

"gon' dumb already?" gojo's huffing, but you can see that he's not unaffected. his eyes are glazed over, hazy as he slowly draws his hips back just an inch, before scooting them forward already, "jus' gonna have to make this pussy learn from now on. don' worry, sweets. it'll fit."

the 'from now on' makes something in your pounding heart flutter.

but you have little time to focus on it as he bottoms out in your drenched cunt, as though you're hearing the slosh of your pussy coat him entirely, right up to the wiry, white hairs on his groin.

"hahh, there we go! the w-wonders of a positive attitude, don'tcha think?" and you're left with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he begins to pick up the pace. a steady staccato that has you jostling underneath his ministrations.

you let his mouth chase yours, capturing glossy lips with your own bite, letting him pant, and whine and praise the heavens above for how tight you're snatching him right now.

"she's p-perfect, isn't she? t-thought about it so much, y'got no idea, got no c-clue about how much i thought about you under me like this n' how you'd f-feel!"

gojo satoru is absolutely drunk from a nectar that he has tasted once. the same nectar that coats his cock in frothy, filthy rings as he pistons his hips out of your pussy.

"happy for y-you, satoru," and you're letting your nails scratch over the shell of his ear as he twitches and shudders, "but fuck, y'talk too much! jus' focus on fucking me!"

gojo's mouth quirks upwards, that knowing smirk playing on his lips as he looks at you bemused, and so hazy.

"god, a lot of that attitude now, hahh?" and he's drawling the words out, and you don't miss how he shudders when you clench around his shaft, on purpose. he's leaning in closer, barely brushing past your lips, and you wonder briefly for a split-second, gojo satoru might just really love you.

and then, without warning, his hand comes down to your side, just underneath the fat of your tits, pinching lightly at the abdomen. causing you to take a sharp intake of breath, and a dizzy huff of his name.

if you ever believed that gojo satoru was malicious in the workplace, a bane on your sanity, you had not been prepared for how he was stretching you out in all the right places.

that inhumane pace of the strongest had him snapping his hips sharply, over and over until he's hitting the spongy patch, deep within your walls.

"clamped around me like, ohh, like a fuckin' vice," gojo's grunting now, each breath coming out short puffs that match the timing of the slap! each whack of his cock delivers, pressing your hips together and coating his hips in sweet slick.

"mmph, feels so good, satoru!" you squeal, pressing a hand over your mouth so you don't wake up the entire top floor of the hotel, tits jostling with each shuffle and movement.

it's all coming down on you too quick, that electric haze shooting down your spine. made all the worse by gojo groaning and slipping his hand between his jackhammering hips, down to where your clit is practically throbbing for his touch.

he's running tight circles, before pressing the flat of his thumb under the hood of your clit, ripping a raw cry from the back of your throat, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as gojo's lips are leaving blooming marks over your neck.

"satoru, i t-think 'm gonna c-cum again," you moan, fluttering your lashes against your skin, rolling your hips up into gojo's quick fingers and brutal cock. but it feels different this time, nothing like your past two orgasms. you feel something draw its claws further into your groin, like you're going to burst and the breath will be stolen away from your lungs.

you hear gojo say something, snarky but tender as he laughs into your collarbone, as he's slapping his fingers down quickly over your clit, making you jolt. but you don't hear his words as blood roars in your eears, gushing all over his cock with a clear, sticky sheen that coats him deliciously.

makes gojo satoru groan out filthy praises over your marked skin, "didn' know you were that nasty? hahh, squirtin' over me on your first go, yeah? it's gettin' too much for me too, s-sweets. think 'm gonna hafta maaa -"

you have no inkling as to what gojo was aiming to groan out, fluttering his own blue eyes shut as his orgasm catches up to him, pumping you insanely full of thick, stringy seed. practically painting your inner walls a translucent white as you huff and whine.

but in the back of your mind, you think he wanted to marry you. a bridge you'll cross when you get to it.

"fillin' you up, good, aren't i?" and he's lost in a daze, and you watch as his muscles ripple in the light of the moon, pectorals gleaming as he stuffs you further, as if plugging his seed to stay in you, making you squirm from the delicious stimulation.

you should have paid a little more attention to your surroundings. less attention to the thick veins of his cock drilling a home in you. or less attention to how his lips curl up into a sweeter smile as he presses soft, happy kisses to your cheek while you lay exhausted, caged by his thick arms.

then, you might have noticed the lights flicker and then shatter for half the hotel's rooms.

the morning sun peeks through the curtains like an overenthusiastic alarm clock, dragging you out of sleep with its gentle warmth. you stretch lazily, limbs still heavy and sticky from the weight of...the previous night's activities.

the sheets feel ridiculous soft, kudos to the insanely over-priced hotel. and for a second, you entertain the thought of just staying here. forever.

that is, until your eyes fall on raijin's amulet over on the wooden table.

and the fact that gojo is nowhere to be found.

you blink, squinting at the empty space beside you. your first instinct is to check besides the bed, and then under it, for fear that the six-foot three man has simply fallen off.

but your gaze falls on a tiny pink sticky-note on the nightstand. one that you suspect was pilfered from the scattered case file on the couch. you peer at looping cursive, scrawled in a blue marker.

don't eat anything yet! gone to get a proper breakfast!

you can't help the soft huff that leaves you, fond in its escape. you feel this sudden urge to don some proper clothes, to go down and join him in the warm sunlight.

but then you pause. perhaps, you ought not to. it would be fun to let him miss you just a bit. the thought of the gojo satoru standing there, waiting in line for entirely average pancakes is amusement enough for you.

but before you can pull the crisp sheets over your head, your eyes catch a glimpse of something else by the bed. a small, satin-blue box that didn't exist yesterday, in the world of cruel choices and...semi-successful missions.

the memory of yesterday pulls a frown from you, but you shake your head, determined to clear your thoughts.

you reach for it, letting your fingers run over the smooth surface, before tugging at the silver ribbon cautiously. half-expecting to find something weird like gojo's usual idea of a joke like a half-naked framed photo of him with a lipstick print.

ah!

but instead, inside the box lies a thin necklace. you've stared longingly enough at shop windows to know that these are real diamonds. not the cheap kind either, a well-cut carat that makes you gasp to yourself, a flush running over your cheeks.

for a moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched unbearably heavy. but then gojo’s ice-gaze dropped to the necklace scattered over your throat, and he tilted his head, "not too bad," a flicker of a scoff curling at his lips. "tch, they’re not even real," you blurted, then immediately regretted it, what was wrong with you today? you reached up, fingers grazing the cool crystals as if to shield them from his bemused scrutiny, "just thought i needed something to fit in."

you pick it up, feeling the cold weight of it in your hand. what is this, romance? a necklace? gojo satoru doesn’t even do romance. at least, not in the way anyone would expect.

he’s the kind of guy who would absolutely get you diamonds just to throw you off balance. mission accomplished.

you glance at the sticky note again, then back at the necklace. this is way too much for your sleep-addled brain. and yet, there’s this funny little thing inside you, a warm spark that you don’t know what to do with.

fuck, when did he even have the time to get this gorgeous gift?

you’re definitely not soft, but gojo does this thing to you — he has a way of turning your whole world upside down, and now…apparently, he’s gone and done it again.

your cheeks warm, but you don't admit to it. not yet. but there's no denying the softer spot that's growing in you, the urge to have gojo satoru in your arms in this very moment so you can run your hands through soft, white hair to watch him purr. to see his cheeks flush from a sweet blush as his blue eyes flutter shut.

your eyes fall on his crumpled uniform jacket from yesterday, his discarded clothes. perhaps, you could just join him. after all, you feel words threatening to spill from your mouth and you want him to hear them.

a surprise of your own? you think you want to see gojo satoru speechless for once.

do not plagiarise or repost! likes and reblogs appreciated. btw, this jenny packham was the dress i envisioned for reader but imagine whatever you like!

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jjjjisun · 2 months ago

Text

Rebellious Jiheon

fromis_9 Jiheon X Male OC | 16192 words

TW: Incest

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Author's note: Late tribute for our cute and sexy maknae <3

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"Why did they even bother calling me?" Jae's wife asked. She was obviously annoyed, and after a long day, he wasn't interested in listening to her sharp tone.

"You work there, couldn't they have just said something to you tomorrow?"

She wasn't really talking to him. Most of their conversations went that way nowadays, it seemed. He hadn't been paying too much attention, but what he had overheard of his wife's conversation on the phone hinted that Jiheon had been causing trouble at school again.

"I don't have time for this, Jae. Can you handle it, please?" his wife asked dismissively.

"Sure, though I don't really know what the problem is," Jae agreed as he flipped through a few channels on the TV.

"Her English teacher said Jiheon has been distracting other students in class, AND dressing inappropriately. That little brat, I'll tell you…"

Jae stopped listening. He grew tired of hearing his wife rag on her; Jiheon was an amazing daughter in his eyes. As she droned on, he couldn't help wondering if the "dressing inappropriately and "distracting other students" complaints were related.

The claim wasn't entirely unfounded, that was for sure. Jiheon had undoubtedly been pushing the envelope with her outfits of late. Only a week before, Jae had to send her back in the house when she came out for a ride to school with her belly showing beneath a snug cotton polo shirt.

"Come on Jiheon, you are not excused from the dress code because your dad works at your school. What would your mother say?"

Jiheon put on a smug look and repeated, in a voice eerily similar to his wife's, "You get back in the house immediately young lady, my daughter will not be dressing like a stripper on my watch."

Jiheon flashed a smile when she saw her dad laughing at her impression. She closed the door and skipped back inside. Jae watched her go back toward the house, finding himself more intrigued than he meant to be by the few inches of skin above her skirt in the back, which was rolled a few times at the waist to reveal more of her long, white legs. She looked incredible.

When Jiheon had come back out she was carrying her change of clothes.

"Sorry dad, I don't want to be late so I'll have to change in the car."

He'd tried his best to keep his eyes on the road, but when Jiheon pulled her shirt over her head and revealed her youthful body he had trouble remembering he was driving at all. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders and brushed the skin around the thin white straps of her push-up bra. Her breasts jiggled as he hit a speedbump, teasing her father even more. Jae was grateful when she finally pulled a new shirt over her head and covered up once more - he wasn't sure how much he could take of looking at her without reacting.

So Jae knew firsthand that the call to his wife probably wasn't a mistake. Since she'd recently turned eighteen, Jiheon had just gotten decidedly more rebellious (than she already was). He assumed she would grow out of it. He hoped she would, anyway, he didn't want to have to discipline her at home and at work.

Jae had been working at the high school for almost ten years as athletic director and taught a few history classes as well. High school kids could be angsty sometimes, but he really liked his job, and it meant seeing more of his daughter, which was always nice.

The following Monday at school, Jae still hadn't told his daughter about the phone call her mother had received. He didn't like scolding her, and she had been so sweet to him that morning, thanking him for the ride to school and kissing him unabashedly before taking off to meet up with her friends before class.

His daughter wasn't quite the same girl he used to take to gymnastics and out for ice cream after, although now it was cheerleading and she still loved ice cream. She'd given up the leotard for a cheer uniform, which he'd seen her dancing around in at most school events… He thought better of imagining her in it when he could avoid doing so.

Her hair was thick and dark, more so than both of her parents, and she usually let it fall down to her shoulders. It framed the cutest face he'd ever seen, with big brown eyes, perfect cheekbones and puffy pink lips. She had the slightest overbite that showed off her pretty smile when she bit her lower lip as she often did when nervous.

Needless to say, Jiheon had the beautiful body of an eighteen-year-old that exercised often. Her breasts were bigger than her mother's - a fact that, though unmentioned, clearly made her mother jealous. Her hips were just right too, with a cute little butt that you could get a nice handful of. At 5'-5" she was quite a bit shorter than him and, but she was just the right size. She'd playfully jumped into his arms the other day after school, she couldn't have weighed even 100 lbs.

By the time he reached his office, Jae had only just realized he'd been daydreaming of his little girl the entire time. He wondered how he'd have the conversation with Jiheon about the effect she had on her classmates without falling victim to her himself.

Jae had a lot of work to catch up on that Monday morning. He was glad of it, for he'd ceased worrying about Jiheon long before lunch. And yet, it seemed he could not escape her naughtiness for even half a day.

"Hey Jae, do you have a minute?" Said his friend Jinwoo, another history professor, as he was heading down the hall to the teacher's lounge for lunch.

"Uh oh," he said "This doesn't sound good, you mind walking? Jinwoo matched strides with his friend Jae.

"So, I hate to have to do this to you Jae, but I think you should have a talk with your daughter,"

"Oh God," Jae responded, "what now?"

Jinwoo chuckled, "Nothing too serious buddy,! I'll spare you the details, but… basically, your daughter Jiheon has been the subject of a lot of chatter lately and I thought you ought to know."

"Oh yea, and what kind of 'chatter' is that?" He asked in a frustrated tone.

"Mostly just teenage boy type of stuff, I have a group of boys that come in from their free period early every day so I overhear some of their nonsense." Jae was only somewhat relieved. "Mostly to do with 'how smokin she looks in her gym uniform when she doesn't wear a bra,' or 'how great her ass looked when she bent over.' " He had put on a mocking, punk-teenager voice to lighten the mood but Jae still didn't like hearing about his little girl that way.

"Look, I'm sure no dad wants to hear this, but I think you know what I'm talking about right?"

Jae let out a sigh, "yeah thanks Jinwoo, I'm glad you had the balls to say something."

"Don't mention it," his friend assured him, "… and one more thing, I had her in class earlier this morning… annnnd I don't think she's wearing any… you know…"

"Yea yea yea," Jae raised his hand and stopped him; he didn't want to hear any more. "I'll talk to her today."

Jae's head was spinning a little, and he tried to eat his lunch and small-talk with his colleagues without revealing his frazzled state. Jinwoo patted him on the back as he headed out and Jae had to remind himself it wasn't Jinwoo's fault. He just had a hard time coping with the fact that anyone else had seen his little girl that way. Jiheon was usually such a good girl. She got good grades, did well on the cheer team and (usually) followed the rules at home - what had gotten into her?

The rest of the day drolled on without incident. Mostly, Jae passed the time in between his two afternoon classes rehearsing what he would say to Jiheon about her behavior. He looked for her in the hallway, thinking he might confront her about neglecting to wear underwear but he never got the chance.

When next he saw her, Jiheon was skipping toward his car around 4:30 right after her cheer leading practice got out. He almost wished to see her in the outfit as usual; she always looked incredible in the tight fabric. Instead she was wearing the same gray v-neck sweater and classic schoolgirl skirt - rolled over a few times so she could show off way too much leg for her father's approval. He would mention that to her during their talk, he committed to memory.

He had almost forgotten what his friend Jinwoo had told him about Jiheon earlier that day… almost. That was until she opened the back door and reached way inside to set her bag down over her father's briefcase. Her skirt, short as it was, did nothing to hide his daughter's delicate pink pussy.

Between Jiheon's plump cheeks and exposed thighs she was completely bare and smooth. His eyes were frozen on it; Jiheon's womanhood was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. What he would have given as a boy her age to have gotten his hands and more on her… it was unfathomable. Jiheon was truly perfect from the outside in.

Jae had to tear his eyes from her tiny opening; he was already distracted when he should have been scolding her.

"Jiheon!" he yelled at her; she popped up from her bent over position and looked at him worriedly. "You're not wearing any…" he leaned in whispering, "underwear."

"Oh right… I umm… forgot." Jiheon lied; her dad could see right through her.

Jae told her to get in the car and then walked angrily around the car while glancing over at Jiheon and the feigned look of ignorance on her face. When she sat down in the car he watched her smooth the short skirt over her white thighs. Somehow, knowing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath as she sat there next to him was intriguing… exciting even

And yet the school boys, probably some of the punks he had in his classes, had seen her in the way he just had. Even his friend, her teacher and an older man, had seen Jiheon's young pussy and could have been as turned on as he'd been. Jae didn't want anyone but him to see her like that, because he was likely the only one who could resist her.

"Jiheon, we need to talk." Jae said quite seriously. Jiheon hunched her shoulders as if to retreat.

"Can you guess what I'm going to say?" He asked her.

"Yes dad," Jiheon replied with attitude, "that I have to wear panties to school?"

"Well yes, definitely that. What were you thinking anyway honey? How many boys at school do you think saw your…" naming his daughters pussy to her made it too real. "I did within ten seconds."

Jiheon's face quickly revealed a smile. "You think that's something to smile about?" Jae snapped. Why would she be smiling about her own father seeing her so intimately?

Why would she be smiling in their current situation? Jae waited for the answer, but still she was trying to hide a smirk. Had she done it intentionally? Did she want her father to see?

"No daddy…" she hesitated. Jiheon was stalling

"What then?"

"I'm just wondering…" still she paused.

"Jiheon, spit it out!" her father commanded.

"…if you thought it was pretty?"

Her father was stunned, he truly had not expected anything like that from his daughter. Mostly he had assumed she would be completely grossed out that her father looked at all, much less how long he'd stared.

"Wh…what did you say Jiheon?" Where before he had been stern and confident, now his voice was more unsteady.

"It's just that one of my friends said my pussy looked different and I didn't think so but I don't know so I…" she was rambling as she sometimes did when she was nervous, "I was just wondering if you if you liked it daddy, or was it different like my friend said?"

"That's not something I can answer Jiheon, you're not my little girl anymore. You're a grown woman."

"You can't just tell me daddy? You must think it isn't pretty if you won't just say so!" Jiheon pouted. Jae couldn't tell I'd she was playing at something or not.

"Jiheon that's not the point," her father replied. He'd certainly gotten a good look and found her tight little entry to look incredible, but he wasn't about to tell his daughter that. "The point is that you can't be going to school bottomless! Jinwoo brought it to my attention and who knows who else saw."

Jiheon looked positively defeated; with a tail between her legs, purse-lipped look and sad eyes. Still he couldn't let up, Jae had to be firm with her.

"What has gotten into you lately Jiheon? I mean you know better than that. You should be glad its me telling you and not your mother."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Jae couldn't quite hear it, but he thought she was talking back to him.

"What did you say?" he asked angrily.

"I said I'm sorry Dad!" with a tear rolling down her cheek. Jae realized he'd been wrong. Jiheon turned to the window and took a quick breath.

"Oh come on Jiheon there's no need to cry." He leaned in to look at her face. A few tears had streamed down; he hadn't meant to make his little girl cry. "If it makes you feel better, you look just right… down there�� just the way a beautiful girl like you is supposed to."

Jiheon stopped her hastened breathing and was visibly relieved. She stopped crying, at least there was that. It took a few moments of attempting smalltalk and a joke or two but eventually Jae broke through to his daughter, and by the end of the ride he was feeling much better about their talk.

Every so often, however, he would glance over upon the sight of her skirt riding higher on her enticing thighs. Normally the sight of his daughter's fit little body didn't phase him, but somehow, somewhere in his head he didn't want to acknowledge… knowing she was bare, shaven and with only the fabric of her skirt to block his probing eyes, he was undone.

"But seriously honey, from now on, underwear, please?" Jae said as they pulled in the driveway.

"Yeeess Daaadd." She drew out.

Jiheon's sexiness prevailed as he watched her get out of the car, part of him wondering if he might catch a glimpse of her cute butt or her tight little pussy. Instead, as Jiheon bent over to reach for her bag, this time she held her hand between her legs and fingers trapping her skirt beneath. When she turned, she found her father behind her and knew he'd been watching her. She flashed him her cutest smile and touched his arm as she pranced by. There was something mischievous about it, and though he'd truly hoped to be rid of Jiheon's antics, somehow he doubted it.

And so the next day, as he sat at his desk grading papers, he knew what the authoritative knock was about before he stood up to open the door. But this time, it wasn't his friend, it was the school principal with Jiheon in tow. This time, Jiheon hadn't been merely dressed inappropriately but had been found in the janitor's closet with a classmate's hand up her shirt.

He looked at her, standing there looking as blameless as she possibly could. Her shirt was still disheveled looking, he could see a bit of her smooth stomach peeking out at him. Her skirt was no less revealing than the day before. For a split second he wondered if, like yesterday, were he to lift up her skirt a few inches he would find her bare and bottomless again.

All the while the principal droned on. He had never liked Principal Kim that much, and as he stood there now, being agreeable as the man chastised his daughter he wasn't gaining any respect for him.

"…Now I've brought her to you directly because I want to put an end to this before it gets any more serious or embarrassing."

"Thank you Mr. Principal," Jae offered, "I assure you I will deal with Jiheon severely.

As Principal Kim explained that he'd be giving her a Saturday detention and that he could do a lot more, Jae once again nodded and spoke when he thought the man wanted to hear anything but his own voice. Mostly, he stared at his young daughter and held her gaze whenever she would look up from her feet.

He refused to utter a word on the whole car ride home, he found that it always got to Jiheon more than any of his other tactics. She tried to get him to say something once or twice but the cold glare, unflinchingly forward, told her to keep her mouth shut. The one thing she was grateful of was that her mother wouldn't be home to add to the punishment.

When they walked through the door, Jae grabbed his daughter's arm firmly. Jiheon yelped in response as he dragged her over to the couch in their living room. He nearly tossed her to a seat on the couch, and Jiheon knew how serious he was. He wanted to, badly, but decided against raising his voice. Instead, he said as calmly as he could.

"Jiheon, I just don't know what to say. We talked about this… we agreed… and now this!"

She was silent.

"I mean what am I missing?? Do you want me to lose my job?"

"Dad…I…" Jiheon didn't finish her sentence.

"Oh now you aren't so brave like you were before huh? One minute you're a bad girl, fooling around in the closet with some boy, and now you have nothing to say." He could see Jiheon starting to tear up again and Jae felt the same way he had the day before. 'Not again,' he thought.

"I just…" she was still fumbling around for words.

"I just what?!" He demanded of her.

"I can't help myself daddy!" she said.

"What is that supposed to mean," Jae shot back.

"I mean I start feeling a certain way and then I can't help myself."

Jae truly couldn't understand what she was trying to get at - was this was an angle she was playing or she was somehow telling the truth?

"I get horny Dad, I get hot and bothered and then I start doing things I know I shouldn't. It keeps happening and I don't mean for it to."

"I don't believe you Jiheon, and you better watch your words closely or I am going to really be angry. I won't have my daughter talking that way."

"I'm not lying Daddy I swear." She was really laying it on thick now, or was she? The tears in her eyes said differently. "It's like I already feel that way in the car before I even get to school. I don't know what to do daddy I keep doing things without thinking and I just…"

Jae was feeling bad for her, if only slightly. If she was telling the truth it meant his daughter was having urges, like those he'd had toward Jiheon when she'd bent over and he'd seen her naked lower half right in front of him. Only Jiheon was obviously unequipped to deal with them.

"You expect me to believe all this Jiheon," Jae said with a look of astonishment. "and even if I did how do you expect for me to deal with what happened today?"

His little girl responded feebly, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, I know I was bad… but I'm not lying!" Jae wondered if she could really live up to her promise.

"Even if what you're saying is all true… It is still your responsibility to control yourself Jiheon. You are not a child anymore honey."

"Maybe…" She was unsteady in her words, "maybe you could help me?"

He thought about what she'd said for a minute, and knew that he wouldn't be too harsh on her in the end. Jae decided to skip some tongue lashing and a whole lot of back and forth arguing between he and his unruly teen. She'd asked him for help, though he wasn't sure of what kind.

Jiheon was finally looking at him more than down her fidgeting feet. For the past few minutes since she'd kicked off her shoes she had been wiggling her toes in the carpet and staring downward. Now she was looking remorsefully at Jae with her pretty brown eyes. She never thought that she'd end up here, involving and disappointing her father. So when he responded to her much more lovingly than she'd expected, she listened closely.

"Here is what I'm going to do…" Jae said assertively. Jiheon listened, wide-eyed.

"Jiheon I have got to ground you, I won't have any argument." He put his hand to his forehead and rubbed his temples as he said, "And not a word to your mother about this, I'd be in as much trouble as you if she found out.." Jiheon knew she had lucked out, though her father wasn't done.

"You are definitely not going to that concert this weekend."

"Uhh," Jiheon let out involuntarily, her mouth was open in frustration.

"Oh you better believe it. If your mother asks you'll tell her it is because of the call she took last week about your clothing."

Jiheon nodded.

"And that last thing, about your… feelings." Jiheon's eyes widened. "Maybe you ought to think about, you know…" he was speaking quieter now, "taking care of yourself before school…"

Jiheon blushed and looked bashfully away with a smile.

"…And if you get any more feelings like that, come to my office right away and we'll figure out a way to take care of you."

Jae definitely didn't miss the grin that formed momentarily on Jiheon's face just after his last words to her. He hadn't meant it that way, but looking at her in her adorable outfit and innocent posture, the smile provoked an inappropriate fantasy of working through Jiheon's arousal in the privacy of his office. He decided to let it go.

"Okay daddy, I promise." Jiheon shrugged. He actually believed her; she sounded sincere.

They looked at each other wordlessly for a moment, searching for something in the other's eyes.

"Now go to your room, I'm still mad about all this, and your grounding starts now."

Jiheon scampered off to her room, but not before catching her father off guard with a hug. Her father watched the petite little teenager strut away. Her tight clothing did wonders to show off her slender frame, everything held snugly in place even as she bounced up the stairs. And indeed, after her pert butt came into view he could see a pair of black panties that were far too small in his opinion, for school anyway. At least she was wearing them.

Visions of the cute brunette danced through his head as he brooded over the last two days throughout the evening. His wife was actually happy with him for once when she found out that Jae had grounded their daughter indefinitely.

The next morning, Jiheon smiled and touched him on the shoulder when she came down for a bowl of cereal as he drank his morning coffee. Her face looked flushed and she smiled naughtily at him when they locked eyes. Jae was utterly distracted from the newspaper by the thought that Jiheon had been touching her little pussy only a few moments before, and the boy shorts and night shirt she was walking around the kitchen in certainly didn't help. He could make out entirely too much the shape of her young breast when she reached for a box of cereal; her nipple protrudely enticingly though the thin fabric.

Despite all her teasing, there was no trouble the next day… or the next… or the next. There was no stopping the occasional daydream about her cute bottom or wonderful breasts, but at least he didn't have to hear about Jiheon's misdeeds and imagine her being felt up by a boy in the closet. Jae was happy to be rid of Jiheon's rebellion, and his troublesome thoughts about her were less frequent without the daily conflict.

Unfortunately, his efforts were overturned as he went to hurry Jiheon along one morning when she was taking too long to get ready for school. As he reached her door and heard the soft panting from behind it, he knew Jiheon was taking his advice. Though he'd raised his hand he did not knock. He merely listened as her adorable cooing continued.

"Uh, uh, uuuuuhhh…" Jiheon sounded; she must have been close by the sound of it.

Sure enough, after a few more seconds… or perhaps it was longer… he heard his beautiful daughter moaning more loudly. She tried to use a pillow to stifle her, which would have worked if her father wasn't standing just outside the door. Jae stood there, transfixed… he'd just listened to his little girl finger perfect cute button, cumming a few feet away from him - and at his own recommendation.

When the door opened in front of him, he wasn't prepared for it. Jiheon didn't know what to say either, so she stood still. She was close to him and though she didn't mean to, she glanced briefly down at his pants. Quickly her eyes found her fathers and she tried to pretend she hadn't seen his bulge. The only sound between them was heavy breathing on both their parts before her father spoke.

"Honey , I… I was just coming to make sure you were awake." Her father told her.

"Oh… okay daddy… I'll hurry and get ready."

They locked eyes again before she made her way to the shower, wearing nothing more than a bra and pair of panties, more fuel for her father's imagination.

They were awkward around each other on the ride to school. Jiheon was confused about what was happening between her and her dad. She knew she should have been dismayed by her father listening in on her, but she wasn't in the slightest. In fact, she had a familiar feeling that caused her to fidget in her first few classes.

And her father was understandably preoccupied with thoughts of Jiheon while he got through his morning. He had set out to stop Jiheon misbehaving in school and found himself wanting to serve up his own kind of detention to his daughter. Such were the prevailing thoughts as Jiheon stepped swiftly into his office and shut the door behind her.

"What is it baby?" he questioned her as Jiheon leaned heavily against the door. Despite the morning's activities she was now more aroused than any day she could remember.

"Dad… I had to come in here…" she looked worried, "I was starting to feel that way again and I did what you told me to do and came right to you."

"Sit down honey," Jae told her, "let's try and distract you."

And try as he did to distract his daughter from her predicament, she was still visibly aroused after over five minutes of talking.

"Do you think I could… do it here daddy?"

"Do what Jiheon… wait you mean… no… not here…" He couldn't fathom allowing Jiheon to finger herself in his own office, and where was he to go while she did?

"But daddy… I promise I'll be quiet, you won't even know I'm here." Once again with the puppy dog look in her eyes Jae's resolve was quickly shaken.

"I don't know Jiheon…"

"It's okay dad, if you just grade your papers I'll be so quiet."

Jae didn't know why, but he kept quiet and glanced down at his desk. While he shuffled papers he could hear his daughter adjust herself in his chair. At first she was quiet, and he even attempted to resist looking in her direction, using his computer screen to conceal the view. But when he heard Jiheon panting his eyes were drawn in her direction.

She was sprawled across his chair, head thrown back and hand down between her legs. She looked so beautiful, and her breathing was causing a stirring in his pants. She wasn't being quite as quiet as she promised, but he was anything but upset with her. Jiheon was the embodiment of youth and sexuality as she nudged herself closer to orgasm.

She had pushed her tight pants and panties both down her legs so her naked bottom was visible to him. If he were a younger man, one of her classmates perhaps, he would have liked to join her. He would have grabbed at the painted-on pair of khaki pants and tugged them over her skinny ankles. He would have turned her sharply toward him, so her hips hung just over the edge of the chair before he…

Jae was staring at his daughter, and it was too late before she noticed. He watched her abdomen begin to convulse, tightening rhythmically as she eagerly fingered her soft mound. She was nearing her climax, and when she noticed her father watching her it was upon her before she knew it. She looked right into his eyes and searched them, knowing he shouldn't be watching her but not wanting him to stop.

What she felt next was wonderful. As Jiheon came, her eyes flitted down and back up to her father's. For the second time that day, she came and her own daddy was on her mind. This time, however, he wasn't standing outside her door but sitting right in front of her. Where before he had been listening to her he was now watching, and she knew how much he liked it. As the sweet wave of sensation washed over and through her, she felt her love for her father evolve further.

"Oh my God," Jiheon whispered.

'Oh my God,' her father thought.

As Jiheon calmed down from her heightened state she tried to slow her breathing. Her father pretended to do something with the papers on his desk but she knew she had distracted him beyond belief. She almost felt bad for him, wondering if he was hard under his desk after watching her touch herself not five feet away. Jiheon spoke first,

"Thanks dad, I needed that."

"You're welcome baby… but I don't think you should plan on doing that in here anymore."

"Why not daddy?" Jiheon asked sweetly.

"Because Jiheon, we're in my office… at your school… and I shouldn't be watching y…" He stammered, not meaning to admit it, "I mean letting you touch yourself here." Jae replied, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself.

"But Dad…" Jiheon was trying to be cute again, "are you sure it's because we're at school, or is it something else?"

Jae didn't really have an answer for the question, though he was certain he knew what his cheeky young daughter was getting at. So Jiheon flipped her hair back over her shoulder, slid out of the chair and grabbed the waistband of her pants at her ankles.

Once again her father was dazed; the sexy brunette had turned away from him and bent at the waist. As she reached down her beautiful legs flexed, her butt looked cute and plump, and best of all her tiny flower and its pink petals peered back at him above a visible gap between her upper thighs. It glistened wonderfully, betraying that what she'd done during school much less in front of her own father.

Having just seen Jiheon pant and shiver herself into orgasm, he wanted nothing more than to walk up behind her and push into her tight opening with his solid tip. And all too soon she was easing her tight waistband up and over her backside, shimmying to get it over her hips. Jae let out the breath of air he'd been holding as his momentary daydream evaporated.

"I'll see you after school daddy." Jiheon said cutely as she walked to the door. Her father intended to stand and escort her to the door. Glancing down as he placed his palms on the desk, he knew if he stood he show how he truly felt about wanting his little girl.

The bell rang. Lunch period was over. Jiheon felt disappointed she'd been cheated out of seeing her father's erection tenting his pants, as the bell gave him an excuse to sit back down. She wanted to see it, and how could she be blamed? Jiheon couldn't help that she'd been thinking of him as he sat and watched her slide her finger back and forth over her clit. It was his name on the tip of her tongue as she shook through the warm rush of pleasure.

So, it was her daddy on her mind as she sat through her afternoon classes. Math was her least favorite subject, but as she debated whether or not to continue her teasing of her father and how far it might go, the bell rang before she'd even checked the clock. And as she sat through the last class of the day, Jiheon knew her answer.

Things were happening kind of fast for Jae and Jiheon both. One minute Jae was feeling protective about his innocent teenager on display at school. The next he was staring at his daughter's midsection or her full, soft cleavage while she was sprawled bottomless on his office chair. He had never looked at her breasts with such desire before; he imagined they would look great in any position… probably pert, with gravity defying youth if she was on top of him.

They talked as usual on the way home. Jiheon had no skirt to push up high on her thigh, and she'd already unbuttoned her blouse far enough that her dad could see her white push-up bra squeezing her tits together.

There was a different attitude toward each other influencing every word and glance. Suddenly Jae wasn't just chatting with his daughter, he was flirting with her. Jiheon's smiles had him asking prying questions and joking around to keep hearing her adorable laugh.

Jiheon's mother was home when they got back and it spoiled all the fun. Jiheon wanted to be near to him, near enough to feel her daddy's warmth and intimidating presence. She had to settle for the occasional sideways grin at him at the dinner table or later a few words in the family room with her mother nearby. The only vision Jae was treated to of his young brunette was that of Jiheon's subtle curves cloaked in one of his own t-shirts. Her breasts stood out proudly in the light of her bedside lamp, but only momentarily for she closed the door and was hidden from his view.

Things had changed so quickly over the last few days. Keeping Jae up that night was the thought of his daughter's hand between her legs in his office, the tantalizing view of her breasts beneath an unbuttoned blouse, and the tortuous thought that Jiheon might be wearing nothing but his old t-shirt but a room away. Jae never had trouble sleeping, even when stress at work had him wound up all day, but this was different. His wandering mind conjured images of his baby, bare and beautiful, in all the ways he wanted her. If he went into her room right now, after all that had happened, would she want him too?

In turn, Jiheon lay awake in her own bed, wishing she could have pushed things a bit further with her daddy. She saw him looking at her with desire before he told her to change before school, and every moment up to then she'd gotten more daring. Jiheon came again that night, and with her fingers inside her pussy she pretended it was her father instead. If she could only show him that she was all grown up and that if he wanted to he could do more than watch…

Jiheon's dreams were naughty that night, and she awoke feeling more aroused than ever. She'd thought her father's hand shaking her awake was part of the fantasy she'd been right in the middle of. They were both naked in her bedroom. She was lying on her back, and her daddy was hovering over her. Below… his pelvis was moving up and down and it felt incredible with her daddy's big, throbbing…

"Jiheon wake up!"

Something was stirring her from her dream. She didn't want to let go of the feeling of…

"Honey come on, it's time to wake up!" Jae said again as he shook his daughter.

Jiheon groaned and she couldn't stay asleep anymore.

"Mmmm… good morning daddy."

Jiheon pushed her arms up and over her head to stretch. As she did so her back arched and pushed her breasts through her dad's t-shirt. Jae wanted so badly to reach out and feel them, warm and supple against his hand.

"You don't want to be late for school baby." Jae told her.

"… what time is it dad?"

"It's almost 7:15, I'm guessing you haven't… taken care of yourself this morning have you?"

her father asked hesitantly.

"No daddy but I really need to, I had some dreams last night." Jiheon said sweetly, her eyes looking so pretty that morning.

"Well you better hurry honey, you don't have all morning."

Jae stood up to go, using every bit of his will not to stay. Jiheon was his little girl, and he owed it to her not to be weakened by her beauty - that wasn't her fault. But Jiheon didn't want him to go; she reached out her hand and took hold of his arm. Jae turned around, wide-eyed.

"Maybe you could stay dad…"

"What…?" Jae asked, she couldn't have said what he thought she did.

"It would be faster if you were with me… if you helped."

Jae was silent, for the upteenth time that week Jiheon had him at a loss for words. And then Jiheon was slowly moving his hand, their fingers intertwined. When he felt the warmth of her thigh he simply couldn't fathom stopping her.

So he let Jiheon keep urging him higher between her legs. At first she may have been guiding his hand but by the time he came in contact with her incredibly warm center he'd taken over. Even the outside of what he knew would be a beautifully tight tunnel was slick with his daughter's arousal.

"Jiheon, I shouldn't be doing this."

"It's okay daddy," she said. He heard Jiheon take a deep breath; she'd been holding it in anticipation. "Please… please I really want you to…"

"Baby, I.." he started, but Jiheon cut in:

"Just until I cum once daddy… I promise I'll be quick."

She was too adorable, irresistible; Jae began rubbing his finger up and down her tiny lips. Jiheon wrapped her fingers around her daddy's wrist as he touched her. It only took a moment or two before Jiheon was taking quick and shallow breaths, so when her father pressed the tip of his finger to her opening and then past it it took only seconds for her to climax.

"Oh my God daddy… I'm cumming…"

In the instant he urged his finger into her Jae knew she was a virgin - it put a smile on his face. His daughter was a sight to behold as he continued to slide his index finger in and out of her through the orgasm.

He'd been so caught up fingering his little girl he hadn't noticed that she'd maneuvered her hand over to his lap. As if watching the sexy brunette convulse wasn't enough to make him hard, the way she was grabbing at and stroking his erection through his pants certainly did.

Jiheon came to after a moment or so but didn't stop holding onto her daddy's penis. She wasn't to see; she could tell by feeling it that her he must have a huge one. When Jae moved her hand off she sighed and wished she could go on touching him. Jae wished she would to, but with their mother getting ready to leave downstairs, he had to go.

At school that day he didn't see his daughter all day, Jae had told Jiheon that he needed time to think. He'd intended to find a way to end the dangerous game that he and his baby girl were playing, but instead he could only think of her sprawled on the bed that morning. Jiheon found herself fidgeting in class, thinking of her daddy's hands on her pussy… his finger inside of her. It took her everything not to disobey his orders and go running to his office.

The ride home was stuffy. Jiheon squirmed in her seat, wondering if her dad would speak up about their morning's activities. But he didn't say anything about it. In fact, he didn't say much at all. She sat there, conflicted about the desires toward her father she felt. She wished he would visit her later that night to tuck her in. As she wiggled her fingertip over her sensitive clit she could only think of her father.

Jiheon didn't have much experience with boys. She'd only given a handjob at a sleepover; her parents definitely didn't know there would be boys there. Even then he'd only lasted a minute or two. Somehow she knew that her daddy would be a much better lover, that he'd be gentle with her and show her things she'd never felt before.

But he didn't come to her room that night. He didn't wake her in the morning either, so Jiheon lay there awake and unable to motivate herself to masturbate the way her dad had instructed. Furthermore, her dad wasn't there to drive her to school in the morning either; her mother said he'd gone to work early for a meeting.

Jiheon was worried. Had she done something wrong? She knew her father was hesitant about what was happening between them, but she couldn't have mistaken his arousal the morning he'd sent her into a feverish orgasm. She wanted to be near him, to know that everything was okay and he still loved her.

And then there was that feeling again. It started in her first period when one of her classmates was staring at her with the same look she'd seen many times. She was wearing her sweater dress with tall dark socks. From her knee to the very high hem of the dress was completely bare. She thought she looked cute in the mirror that morning, and Jack's terrible attempts to hide his gaze confirmed it. She hadn't even gotten to show her dad that morning.

The feeling grew each period until lunch. Her friend Chae slipped past her in the lunch line, and the way he brushed his hips against her butt couldn't have been an accident. She was surprised; usually Chae didn't come on to her like that. Perhaps she looked a little cuter than she intended. All through lunch she dealt with a tingling heat building inside her.

Jae was working quietly at his desk during the lunch period when the door quickly opened and closed. Jiheon pressed her back against it and breathed heavily.

"What the heck Jiheon?" Jae asked incredulously. His daughter's chest heaved a few more times as she caught her breath. Even in the oversized sweater her body was a thing to marvel at. It barely covered anything. Or maybe it did, but his fatherly instincts had him thinking he needed to buy his little teenager a new wardrobe.

"What the heck…DAD?" Jiheon looked up and fired back.

"I don't like your tone."

"Well I don't like when a boy touches me and then doesn't talk to me ever again." Wow was she feisty, he father thought. He was surprised to hear her so confrontational, but he liked it.

"Okay first of all, I'm not a boy I'm your father. And second it isn't like that."

"What is it like DAD, because it feels like I came to you and asked for your help and now you're ignoring me?" She started to sound sad, and Jae knew she wasn't exactly wrong.

"Baby," he told her "I'm sorry… I didn't mean for it to be like that."

Jiheon took a few steps toward him. She wasn't sure what she was looking for from him, but the arousal that had been driving her crazy a few minutes ago certainly wasn't gone. Jae went on to say that he just thought they needed to take a little time off and think about what had happened. He said he didn't mean to ignore her, he loved her…

And then he stopped talking. He stopped because his hands were on his daughter's hips. His hands were on Jiheon's hips and she had just straddled his lap. Her dress had ridden up on her hips and revealed a pair of black cotton panties.

Neither of them wanted to say anything and spoil the moment. Jae was done making excuses. His daughter obviously wanted this, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it too, whatever IT was.

So when Jiheon started slowly moving her hips he didn't protest. He had been hard since he saw her walk in the door. Jiheon could feel her father's cock sticking straight up toward his belt and she guided her hips along that path. Her father's hands held her tight and pushed her firmly down into his lap.

"Unhhh," Jiheon whined as his shaft stimulated her clit wonderfully. "Oh God daddy…"

She was already so aroused, but when her dad reached a hand up and under the dress she was on fire. His fingers inched high enough to encounter her bra; but when he didn't find one he wasn't entirely surprised. Just before his hand came to cup her soft breast, Jae realized he'd never seen Jiheon's breasts. Sure, he'd caught a glimpse of them in one of her tiny little shirts, but with his hand resting just below, Jae held his breath.

Jiheon kept grinding on her father's lap while waiting for him to move his hand higher. The tingling feeling continued to spread from her core to her limbs, from her limbs to the tips of her fingers. When her daddy's hand finally encircled the bottom of her tit she moved her hand over his quickly to close it. The sensation of his large palms holding her gently quickly brought her orgasm close at hand. He pawed, he squeezed, testing the softness and bounce of her breast. This, of course, had Jiheon moaning and writhing fast in her father's lap.

"Unhh… unhhh… unhhhh…" cried Jiheon, "Daddy you're gonna make me cum… your big cock feels so… unhhh… good!"

Jae worried that someone might hear them, or walk in to see him feeling up his daughter while she humped his lap desperately. But he couldn't stop her… he wouldn't. Her bottoms were so wet that they were leaving a damp spot on his slacks, and still he only urged her down harder. The layers of cloth between his daughter's bare pussy and his solid shaft dulled the sensitivity, but the sheer weight of their forbidden actions were really getting Jiheon going.

It was too much for her and seconds later, with a gasp and clench of her thighs, Jiheon was cumming in her daddy's lap. The teenager had to bury her head in her father's shoulder to silence her cries, but still she worked her mound over her father's bulging pants. She was quivering and unsteady as she did.

Jae adored his baby girl and the level of satisfaction he'd brought her. He'd given her exactly what she needed after a tough morning of dreaming that her dad might help her cum like he had the day before. He was ecstatic to help her, but now he was stuck with a hard-on like no other and frenzied desire to lay Jiheon on the desk and ravage her.

He did just that, and Jiheon barely noticed for her head was still rattled by the effects of her climax. The added pressure of her father''s hips against her own didn't help it clear as he laid her on the desk. Jae had easily lifted the tiny brunette and placed her where he wanted her. As he scrunched the sweater up her lithe body it shuffled and creased the papers he'd been grading. He couldn't have cared less. His hands quickly moved to his belt. Jae was going to be buried inside his beautiful teenager once and for all.

His pants fell, and his fingers fumbled to Jiheon's waist. He would have ripped off her panties but he needed to be more gentle with her.

"Daddy what are you doing?" Jiheon asked when she finally came around.

"Shhh baby, daddy's going to fuck you now, okay?"

Jiheon was worried, she had come into his office wanting something, but this was more than she'd bargained for.. The bulge in her father's boxer briefs looked big… too big. And not on his desk in the middle of the school day!

"NoooOoo…" she whined, "we shouldn't… we can't Daddy."

Jae wasn't hearing her, instead focusing his energies on keeping Jiheon still so he could remove her miniature black underwear His own daughter had just humped herself into orgasm and he intended to show her how to make her father feel good too. His cock throbbed to be released and then enveloped in Jiheon's tight quim.

"Daaaad…nooo…" she protested, drawing it out when his bulge came in contact with her bare clit. Her legs hung down over the edge of the desk, panties stretched between her feet.. 'This is really going to happen,' she thought. Jiheon didn't know whether to be scared or excited; wasn't this what she wanted all along? His penis looked so large that she was worried what it might do to her,

And then the bell rang.

The two of them held still until the long drone overhead stopped. Jae took stock of his daughter: face still flushed, her dress bunched just above her perfect little nipples and her tiny opening was waiting to accept him. Jiheon's eyes didn't leave her father's as he loomed over her. What was he going to do?

Jiheon's socks brushed the backs of her father's legs, jolting him out of his transfixion. Jae couldn't make up his mind. Should he just do it, should he take his daughter's virginity right there in the middle of his office? He certainly wanted to, and she was so vulnerable and ready for it.

He was taking too long; Jiheon started to worry she would be late for class again. Ms. Sherman was the one who caught her in the closet with that boy and she didn't want to test her again. Jiheon slowly slipped to her feet, unable to help her tiny mound from coming in contact with her father again.

She pulled her dress down and smoothed it out over her thighs. Watching her nude little body disappear was a terrible thing, especially as the sweater material covered up her youthful breasts

"Sorry Daddy… I have to go." There really was remorse in Jiheon's eyes as she said it. She leaned in close, putting a hand on her father's chest and standing on tiptoe "But you can fuck me after school if you still want to…"

It was jarring to hear Jiheon talk that way. Jae was speechless as his teenager kissed him on the lips and walked toward the door.

"Thank you daddy," she said with a big smile. "I feel much better now, I promise I'll pay you back later. I get out of cheerleading at 4:30"

Jae grimaced. 'What a tease,' he thought to himself. He felt like grabbing her by the arm and pinning her against the wall so he could call in her promise immediately. From the looks of it she was going to be a very tight fit; he might have to take his time helping her adjust. He knew he was well endowed, perhaps more-so considering how tiny Jiheon's pussy was, but he looked forward to filling her up regardless.

It must have taken Jae a full hour to get even a moment of work done. Even then, he was doing it half-mast. And just when he started to return to his papers, a glance down below his desk revealed Jiheon's pair of sexy black underwear. He reached down to grab them just before the bell rang, shoving them quickly in his pocket.

Students filed in for his last class of the day. But no matter what he tried, he could not get his mind off of finding Jiheon and releasing all his pent-up arousal deep into her young, snug insides. Even the glimpse of other pretty high schoolers in his class had Jae pining to be with his daughter again. The damp black lingerie that he kept thumbing in his pocket was calling to him, convincing him of what he had to do.

He wanted her so by the time class ended that he was out the door before any of his students. He glided down the halls, checking first at her locker and then the place in the lobby where all the cheerleaders seemed to congregate. She wasn't in either place. Downstairs he checked the gym, and didn't see any of the girls out on the floor warming up for practice. As Nagyung, another cheerleader walked toward the girls' locker room, he called out to her .

"Tell Jiheon her father needs to see her right away, will you Nagyung?"

"Sure Mr. Reynolds!" she responded. Nagyung was always curiously nice to him.

Inside the locker room Jiheon's friend relayed the message. Girls who overheard "ooo-ed" and "ahh-ed" or taunted that Jiheon was in trouble. Jiheon herself wondered what her dad could want badly enough to pull her out of practice. Quickly she pulled on the rest of her cheerleading outfit. They had really gotten away with showing a lot of skin this year, with a halter-top and skirt that barely covered her behind. Of course, they had matching boy-shorts to cover up on spin and jump moves, but in her haste Jiheon hadn't put them on. It reminded her of earlier that day, which obviously brought a certain heat beneath her skirt.

Sure enough, her father was waiting close by.

"Hey Dad, what's up…" Jiheon started, but her father interrupted.

"You're not in trouble Jiheon but follow me." He grabbed her by the arm and quickly led her across the gym. Jiheon was nervous but admittedly excited about what was going on. She always liked it when boys were a little agressive; her father's strong grasp sent butterflies fluttering through her tummy.

When they reached the other side of the gym she thought he would take them through the exit doors next to the bleachers. Instead she watched her father check around them, standing next to the plastic panels blocking entry beneath the bleachers. When he seemed sure nobody was watching, Jae ducked behind the false wall and dragged his daughter with him.

It was darker there; nobody could see without looking for them. Once they were both safely concealed, Jae pulled his daughter in close and pressed her against the wall of the gym. His lips fell upon hers greedily, and Jiheon lifted a leg to pull them together. She knew what her dad wanted; the hard-on fighting against his slacks gave him away.

She kissed him with an equal amount of passion. Even though he'd helped abate her pent up urges earlier that day, thinking of what he'd meant to do to her when he'd pulled off her panties had riled her up more than ever. Jiheon didn't care that it was wrong. She didn't care that they were in her school or under the bleachers. And she didn't care that she could hear the cheerleading squad gathering out on the gym floor. By the time her other foot lifted off the ground as her father pinned her against the wall, Jiheon was ready for whatever was next

"Slow down Daddy," Jiheon giggled, "I'm all yours now…"

But he didn't slow down. Just as soon as his lips left hers, his fingers found the hem of her top and pulled it up over her head. The tight-fitting shirt rustled her hair as it left her shoulders, and her pert breasts jiggled free of their trap. Her back came into contact with the cold wall but her bare chest was immediately warmed by her dad once again squeezing her between him and the concrete.

As their lips came together again, father and daughter's tongues fought to gain ground. They practiced twirling around each other's; Jiheon licked the roof of Jae's mouth playfully. All the while Jiheon was unbuttoning her father's shirt. And before long, Jae's hands lowered to his baby's waist. He paused to grip her tit, admiring it briefly before wrapping thumb and forefinger around her thin waist.

But he didn't stop there, and as soon as his hand cleared the ruffled fabric of her skirt, he found her bottomless once again.

"Jesus Jiheon, you are a bad girl," his fingers taunted the outer lips of her now-slick entrance, "do you ever listen to me baby?"

Jiheon tilted her head, arching her back simultaneously while her father fingers pried at her sensitive lips. "I'm sorry daddy…uuoohhh… I didn't have time to put my bottoms on before I came out."

They remained silent for a moment while concentrating on what Jae was doing with his hands down below. He continued to feign that he might sink a finger into her hot little center, but then he'd pull away. It was driving Jiheon crazy.

"I'll listen now daddy…" she said through a breath and a gasp, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, I promise."

Standing there with his gorgeous daughter, touching and gazing upon her slender teenage body and its inexplicable proportions, he knew exactly what he wanted her to do.

"Okay then Jiheon," he started, while sliding a fingertip just between her wet lips, "how about you take off my pants first."

"Ok Daddy!" Jiheon complied excitedly. It was hard to do anything with her father's finger stroking her tingling inner walls.

She fumbled with his belt but in a few seconds his pants fell to the ground with a clink. Her hand held the outline of his manhood through his underwear, she was nervous to finally see it for real.

"It feels so big daddy," she said admiringly, but with apparent nervousness in her voice.

"It will be okay honey, I promise to go slow."

Still she ran her hand up and down the length of his shaft. She wanted to tease him like he had done to her. But now, with the amazing feeling of her father working his finger in and out of her pussy to his second knuckle, Jiheon wanted to finally know what having her daddy's penis inside of her would feel like. At long last, she grabbed his waistband and tugged it over him and down around his thighs

Jae's cock sprung free of his underwear impressively; it looked over eight inches long and very thick. The way they were standing it was dangerously close to his daughter's virgin hole; it made both of them hold their breath for a second as reality set in.

Jiheon carefully took him in her hand. Her father groaned appreciatively as his daughter finally touched him the way he'd wanted for too long. Her hand looked miniature wrapped around Jae's cock, but it felt fantastic when she began sliding it up and down like she heard she was supposed to.

Jae involuntarily closed the distance between his hips and Jiheon's. Only a few more inches and he'd be positioned to make her a woman.

"I've never had sex before dad, but aren't we supposed to use a condom?" Jiheon questioned innocently.

"Yes baby." her father said, respiring heavily, "but it's okay, I'll be careful."

Inexperienced as she was, she was right, but he couldn't stop now. Jiheon wouldn't have allowed him to anyway, but his promise calmed her. They both knew Jiheon wasn't on birth control, her mother wouldn't allow it. It made their secret even riskier, and all the more exhilarating.

"I had my period two weeks ago daddy, so we have to be REALLY careful.. okay?" The way she continued stroking him, picking up speed even, made it impossible for Jae to say anything that might stop them now. Even if she was at her most fertile, nothing could stop him fucking her now.

Jiheon made like she would get on her knees; she knew a little about how to give a blowjob, and she wanted to make her dad happy. But he stopped her before she could kneel before him. Pulling her back up to face him, he kissed her, looked into her eyes and said,

"Later sweetie, I can't wait any longer to make love to you," he told her.

Jiheon wore the biggest smile he'd ever seen, she felt a warmth deep inside her and a twinge of nerves.

"Take it in your hand," her father instructed. Jiheon complied. "Now point it at your … ahhh right there…" Her father was cut off as Jiheon got ahead of him. His tip came into contact with her mound and was immediately coated with her wetness.

"Are you ready… are you sure… my bad little daughter?" As he said it Jae was nudging his tip against Jiheon's opening - it felt incredible to both of them.

"Yes Daddy…"

"Tell me you want it," he asked.

"Ugghh… I want it," she said, squirming as his tip kneaded her clit.

"Are you going to take my virginity?" Jiheon asked. She pulled at him, her hand still encircling his rod as he lingered outside of her. "Ooohh… are you daddy?…or are you going to just talk about it."

Jae scoffed, hesitating a moment at her edginess, and then promptly accepting her challenge.

He pushed forward.

Jiheon's lips protested, but gave way.

Jae's tip, the whole thing, but only that, was finally fit snugly inside her. The feeling was inexplicable. Jiheon, who was experiencing it for the first time, adored the warmth bestowed in her by her dad's invading head. And Jae had never felt something so snug and inviting; they both wanted more.

With one leg lifted and wrapped around his naked thigh to allow him access, Jiheon stood helpless but fulfilled as her dad slid in further.

There was pain at first.

Jae paused, far from entirely within his little girl.

"Are you okay Jiheon?" He asked lovingly; the look on her face demanded he check.

"Oh Dad…uhhhhhhh…" she panted needily, "Daaad…"

Jiheon's chest heaved.

She was too arousing a sight. He urged just a bit further.

Jiheon howled.

Worrying they would be heard he stopped moving.

"Shhhhhh honey," he consoled, placing a finger over her lips. Luckily the noise level in the gym was full of cheerleaders and part of band practicing. "Do you want to stop? Does it hurt too bad."

Jae hoped to God she didn't.

"NO!" Jiheon cried in a hushed voices, "No Daddy, no… Keep going, I can be a big girl for you…uhhhhh… and your…oohhhh," Her father had continued channelling into her, "your big… ohmygod…thick…unnhh… cock."

By the time she finished saying it Jae was as far as he could go. Standing the way they were he could not shove all the way into his daughter's pussy. Jiheon was lucky because she was having a hard enough time adjusting to her dad's size already.

Impaled and pinned against the wall, Jiheon returned a long, desirous kiss from her father. It helped her take her mind off the discomfort of having him inside her, penetrating her for the first time. So did the way his hands seemed to glide around her body, finding all of the right spots to massage her and help her along. When he finally moved again she was ready.

Jae slowly withdrew from his daughter.

Her snug insides gripped him, resisting his exit.

As her entrance gave way to the ridge of his tip, Jiheon let out the breath she'd been holding. Jae wanted nothing more than to plunge back inside her, but watching his little girl catch her breath he knew to wait. Instead he swiped a hand under her yellow skirt and grabbed hold of her tender, padded cheek. With the other he palmed her ample breasts.

"Put it back in daddy… please," Jiheon begged after a few seconds. She couldn't stand being so empty with his hands provoking her so.

Again he thrust into her, hesitating just inside.

Jiheon acted immediately, urging him with her leg from behind.

She whimpered as her dad drove inward.

"Ohh fuckkk daaad…" she whimpered.

"Ohh Jiheon… my little girl…" her father answered, "you feel so good…you are…" she was listening closely to dull the hurt, "perfect." he whispered in her ear.

Nobody had ever told her that. Jiheon, now speared again by her father, wanted nothing more than to make him as happy as he was making her. The ache of her lost virginity was passing, replaced by the slow piston of her daddy in her pussy. She did what she could to rock her hips to meet him.

By the third or fourth time he entered her, Jiheon lost count. Jae quickened his thrusts to a level he thought his daughter could handle, higher still when he felt her returning his movements. He could feel every inch of her insides as he slid past, and she him. Young as she was there was moisture soaking their junction and easing Jae's repeated entry into her forbidden teenage pussy.

Moments later, Jae was holding his daughter's ass firmly and plunging into her again and again. His head was nuzzled into her neck and between enamored kisses and flicks of his tongue, Jiheon could feel her father's breath heavy on her skin.

"You're so bad daddy…" she hissed in his ear, "oooohhh…you're the naughty one…"

"Is that right… uhhh… my little daughter who humped my lap…ughh.. . until you came?"

He thrust harder, prodding a little deeper into her.

"You're the one… ohh fuck daaaadd… who pulled me out of practice…uhhhh uhhhh uhhhh… so you could take my virginity…"

"My little teenager…who doesn't wear panties to school…and lets boys feel her up in the locker room." he was fucking Jiheon hard enough to see her breasts shudder with each thrust.

Jiheon gasped, "it was the janitor's closet," she whispered back and pushed her father away with a hand on his chest. His cock slid out of her and sprang to attention awaiting her next move.

"Well then daddy," she replied with attitude. Turning around, Jiheon slid her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and shimmied out of it, bending at the waist. "If you're not as naughty as me," she was glancing back at him over her shoulder, "then maybe you shouldn't fuck me doggy while while I take off my skirt for you"

Sure enough, wonderfully naked, with only the steel supports of the bleachers and dim light for a backdrop, Jiheon bent over and wiggled her butt at her dad. And before she could stand up, her father took a quick step forward, directed his tip to her bare, tender opening, and penetrated her once again.

"Unnnnnhhhhh…" Jiheon cried out, covering her mouth as she caught herself.

Carefully but deliberately Jae drove into his daughter once more. He didn't give her much time to catch her breath either; her challenge motivated him to take her more forcefully this time.

Jiheon braced herself with her hands on the wall as her dad pounded into her. Her father fucking her from behind was entirely new, as was the depth his big cock was reaching in their new position. Jiheon had to stand on her toes to help him fuck her just right. The squishing sound of her slick walls separated repeatedly by his advances was audible to both of them.

"Ooo fuck…" she whined

"Jiheon…" Jae called.

"Fuuuuck daddy," cried Jiheon as he continued to thud against her butt.

His hands firmly grasped her hips, pulling her to him when he was thrusting forward. In and out again dad's cock went in his daughter's pussy. He was making her feel things she'd never even fathomed, stimulating depths inside her with his thick cock she didn't know he could.

Her back was arched impressively and at some point Jiheon began leaning into each thrust of her father's pelvis. Her breasts hung freely and swayed until her dad reached forward to hold one. It soft and wonderful in his hand, perky like only an eighteen year old girl's could be. Jae placed his other hand on her lower back, warm with perspiration, and used it to leverage driving into his daughter's hot center. His cock kept touching a spot inside her that was sending a jolt to her brain each time he slid out of her pussy and back in.

He would remove his cock but for the very tip, then pry her back open and fill her up until she whimpered and cried. Once or twice when Jae's hips met his teenager's cute butt, he held her tight, pushing and flexing for a few precious millimeters deeper in her snug tunnel. It made Jiheon writhe, both in pleasure and pain while her dad showed her how it felt to be truly full of his manhood.

When he had plunged into her enough times, pressuring the spot that was causing her to quake and moan louder, Jiheon started to feel her knees weaken.

"Daddy… I feel…ohh no… I feel like I'm going to…" she warned desperately. She was powerless to stop him, and soon she had not enough strength to even stand on her own two legs.

Her father didn't relent, he actually picked up speed. Knowing if he refused to let up he would make his baby girl cum, Jae held her tight as her legs gave out and he continued sliding his cock in her tunnel over and over.

"Daaad… wait… I'm gonna… ughhh unhhhh… I feel"

Suddenly she went silent. A feeling, one that started deep within her, shot out in all directions. If her father hadn't reached down to cover her mouth she would have screamed at the top of her lungs. Instead, as he held most of her weight, her dad pulled her straight up and speared her insides while she moaned into his hand. As she came, fluids covered his cock and dripped down onto his legs and feet. His little girl was the first he'd ever been with that came so hard.

His little girl shaking in his arms was the sexiest thing Jae had ever experienced. He did what he could to rock his hips and continue stimulating her quaking insides while pawing at her exposed breasts and abdomen. He raked her skin lightly with his nails. Jiheon was still orgasming; tears were coming from eyes.

When she finally stopped quivering, Jae was kissing her neck tenderly and holding both her tits in his hands. His elbows squeezed her tight, and slowly but surely she found strength returning to her legs. Jiheon's whole body tingled, and there was still the incredible feeling of her daddy's cock buried in her dripping quim.

"Dad…" she paused, "that's never happened to me before." Her father was pecking kisses on her cheek and ear from behind her - it felt nice. "I'm sorry I got you all wet."

Jae chuckled at that, "Don't be sorry baby, that was the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Jiheon blushed, reveling in being hugged tightly by her father. She wanted nothing anymore but to feel stuffed full of her daddy. Nevertheless he slid out of her as she turned around to face him.

"I want you to cum too daddy," she pleaded, taking hold of him and feeling her hand slide on his thick shaft from all the fluids she'd left.. "What can I do, I want you to feel like I just did."

A big smile crossed Jae's face: "Well I don't know if I can cum that hard little one, but can you take a little more?" he asked.

"Daaad… you can fuck me any time you want." she promised kissing his lips, "any way you want," planting a kiss on his cheek, "anywhere you want." she said, looking around and planting another one on his manly chest. On just the other side of the bleachers, some fifty feet away, Jiheon's cheerleading squad was practicing. Some of them wondered where she'd gone off to. If only they knew that she was so close by, losing her virginity to her loving father, and loving every second of it…

Reaching down he grasped her surprisingly generous butt and lifted her up. Not too far away was a stack of chairs covered in a thick packing blanket. It was the perfect place to set his beautiful brunette down and fuck her senseless. Not before that, however, Jiheon took advantage of her position and reached below her to grab her father's cock again. She had to lift herself a little, but it might just work. As she flexed her legs, they slid and slung over her father's arms. Jae wondered what she was doing, and a few seconds later he got his answer.

When Jiheon released herself, it was right down onto his upright cock. He hadn't expected it; the increase in warmth and pressure on him was amazing. His daughter surprised him yet again, the naughty little minx was doing her best to pump up and down on him as he held her in his arms. It was adorable and undeniably sexy; he let her exert her little body until she was panting from the effort.

She was so light he was in no rush to set her down and get in her way. Each time she lifted her tiny athletic body, her pussy fought his return inside of her. It turned him on so much that he knew he was getting close to his own orgasm.

Jiheon was watching between them, focusing hard on moving up and down, and Jae was watching her. He loved her look of awe and ecstasy as she changed the pace and stared at the evidence of their incest, their forbidden and life-altering love. At some point Jae was helping her move and the burning in Jiheon's thighs went away. She finally looked up to see him looking at her adoringly.

Without releasing from her gaze, Jae maneuvered Jiheon over to the stack of chairs. He withdrew just long enough to get her situated so he could fuck her just right. Jae lingered there, his heavy cock wagging and brushing her hyper-sensitive nub. He even slid his tip against her tender clit before rubbing it along the bottom of the his thick shaft. It was too long to be without her father inside her.

"Come on… please…" Jiheon begged. "fuck me daddy…ohhh…stick your cock in your little girl's pussy…I want it"

Jae held his finger to his lips again. "Careful honey." The band wasn't playing anymore outside, but someone was dribbling a basketball and the cheerleaders were still going. If Jiheon was too loud, they could be found.

Though the naughtiness of dad taking daughter's virginity in the school gym appealed to the pair, getting caught would definitely prevent their tryst ever happening again. Jiheon hoped it would. And if he hadn't been transfixed by her nakedness and the begging look in her eye, Jae would have been thinking of fucking all the ways he was going to fuck his daughter next.

But his adorable brunette was waiting patiently for her dad to be buried in her warm tunnel again, and Jae couldn't stand to keep teasing her anyway. Once more Jae felt his cockhead dangerously near entering his own daughter before it slid its path upward one final time. Drawing back he lined up, took a deep breath, and with his eyes gazing deep into his little girl's he pushed his cock back into her tiny teen pussy.

"Oh daaaad…" she whispered as he put an inch in. "Daaaaddy… its feels soo… it feels bigger daddyuuuhhh." Her whimpering made him throb with arousal.

"ohhh oww… It feels bigger this way dad…ooohhh please… stop for a minute."

Jae waited, but not more than a few seconds. Maybe the best way for his little girl to adjust would be for him to just keep fucking her, gradually. Mostly, however, Jae couldn't just stop chasing the orgasm that fucking his daughter from behind a moment ago had begun.

Jiheon's head rolled as her dad kept inching further into her. As her walls enveloped him, Jae knew he didn't have long. Watching his baby squirm and struggle to fit him, he took her head tenderly in his hand and hushed her.

"Shhh baby…uhh… try not to squeeze," Jae instructed; he didn't want to come so soon.

"Ooooo… nooo it hurts…" she whined, "daddy… fuck…"

The slick sound of Jiheon's tunnel accepting her dad's rod was amazing enough, and then there was her taut little abdomen. Each time he tried to sink all the way into Jiheon's tight pussy, it flexed to fit him. Past the peak of her clit, his rod made its way and mounded her skin in a path up her belly ever so slightly while it fought deeper into her womb.

His pace quickened unintentionally, and Jiheon seemed to be coming around to her father's strong thrusts. One of her hands scratched and pulled at his back while the other guided him to palm her breast and stroke her nipple. He was close.

"Cum for me daddy…"

"Oh Jiheon… say it again…"

"Come on daaad… cum for me." Her voice was like honey. "I'm yours daddy… I'm… oooo… I'm your bad little girl."

Jiheon was sensing from her father's heavy breathing that he was getting close. She only knew what she'd heard from her friends, but she knew that he was going to shoot sperm out of his cock that was inside her. She knew that if he wasn't careful like he promised he could get her pregnant… that would probably be bad.

"Daddy remember… ohhhh," he was starting to really fuck her then, "Mom won't let me take birth control… ohhh God… not inside me daddy!"

Jae was nearing as deep in Jiheon's tiny quim would allow. His balls contacted the eighteen-year-old's butt as he prodded her cervix.

"Ooooo fuck daddy… oohh oww…" her cries were of extreme sensation.

She was hugging him so tight.

His hands searched for more and more of her.

He shoved in, coming close enough to steal a kiss.

He pulled out, taking hold of her hips.

Again. Jiheon was stifling a moan, biting her lip.

He didn't want to be anywhere else except lodged wonderfully in Jiheon's welcoming little pussy. It was the best thing he'd ever felt, and watching her pleading eyes as he deflowered her the last thing on his mind was pulling out of her for safety.

In fact, the thought excited him. It was so taboo, getting Jiheon pregnant. His own baby girl, in her school's gymnasium, with the cheerleading team a few feet away… unprotected and so vulnerable. If he pulled out of her in time he could avoid a baby growing inside his own daughter.

He simply couldn't.

A few more thrusts into Jiheon and he hit the point of no return. Jiheon read the decision in his eyes. He was gripping her hips tight with his strong hands, depressions being made in her soft flesh.

"Daddy you can't…oooohh nooo… "

And then he was cumming. Her insides drew upon him and he was in heaven.

He pumped it into her generously, sending ropes of potent semen into his baby's womb. It felt so incredible, so right. His knees felt weak beneath him, so he held on tight to Jiheon's tiny frame. Jiheon moaned as her father painted her insides with his forbidden seed; there was a new kind of pressure within her beyond that of his pulsing cock

"Oh God… Oh daddy I feel it…" Jiheon told him.

…something about the sensation of her father's spunk being released into her pussy, filling her up more when she hadn't thought it possible… It flooded her with feeling, and just when she hadn't seen it coming.

"Daddy… ohhh… you're making me cum again!"

Already lost in the beauty of pumping his cum into Jiheon's burning womb, the extra grip of her cumming was another thing entirely. It extracted what little he had left in him. Her eyes teared as she shook silently, impaled on her daddy's cock.

Jae held his daughter tight and close, nestled deep inside her. She cooed and moaned while her father let out a last few defiant jets of cum, she could feel him throb. Having penetrated and filled deep within her, his semen made its way around her father's buried shaft. It peeked out around pink lips and wonderfully displayed their incestuous tryst.

It took more than a moment for Jiheon to come around. She was beside herself with the unfamiliar territory her father had just shown her. She was coming down from her second orgasm in a few minutes and dripping her father's cum from the place where he remained planted into her.

"Daddy you promised… you weren't supposed to cum inside me…" she scolded

"I know baby I'm sorry." He said.

"You could make me pregnant daaad…"

"I know honey, I just couldn't stop fucking you, it felt too good."

It made Jiheon smile hearing her dad confirm he felt as wonderful as she did. She knew he wasn't supposed to, but it had been the feeling of his warm cum pumping her full that had given her an orgasm in the first place. It felt wonderful, and knowing she'd made her father so aroused he lost control was too. She couldn't go on pretending she minded that he'd cum in her pussy.

"Soo bad daddy…" she chastised him. He came in close and kissed at her cheek and neck. "…you came so much I can feel it all in me." He was going to apologize to her again when he heard. "I like it… I'm glad you did."

Once again his little girl surprised him. He was thinking how terrible he'd feel if he had to bring his daughter in to get a pill, or worse, when she smiled and told him she liked that he'd cum inside her.

"Daddy's aren't supposed to cum in their daughter's pussy, Dad…" she continued, "especially when I could get pregnant so easily. "

"Well little girls aren't supposed to bend over for their fathers to fuck them either." He fired back, "but you didn't seem to mind."

Jiheon laughed and blushed as she toyed with him. "I'm only teasing you… I am so glad it was you to take my virginity daddy! And your cum feels amazing inside me."

They kissed once more, admiring each other and grateful for the love they'd just shared. When Jae thought the time was right, he began sliding his cock out of his daughter. Jiheon's eyes rolled back and she whimpered as he regrettably removed each inch. When it finally came to his head, her lips parted a little wider and released his member with a faint pop. Jae's pretty brunette giggled adorably when she heard it, new to all the sounds and sensations of sex. He intended to teach her everything, and thoroughly.

When his hardly softened cock finally emerged from Jiheon, a white pearl gleamed from her slit; a stream of cum followed soon after. Her no longer virgin hole urged her father's generous load out of her from where she was already overfilled. It looked unspeakably beautiful, the evidence of their lovemaking trickling out of her pussy. Jiheon was still returning to her normal pursed tautness after her father removed himself from inside her.

In fact, it looked so inviting and slick that Jae dared one last move. When Jiheon was least expecting it, he redirected his head at her cum-infused quim. Before she could protest, Jae shoved into her, excruciatingly stimulated by her ever-staggering tightness.

"Ooohhh fuck daddy… owwww, it's sore!"

The added lubrication helped, as if Jiheon wasn't already dripping wet. But the tiny cheerleader was far from used to having anything so large inside her; she was definitely going to need time to recover. On some level it did feel good, but Jiheon hoped her father wasn't hoping to have sex again so soon.

"Please dad… I promise you can fuck me again if you want…owww" she pleaded, "but I need a break before I can do it more."

After his hypersensitive tip felt the insides of his daughter one last time, Jae couldn't have continued anyway. He had simply wanted to feel his freshly fucked teenager one last time. He didn't know when he and Jiheon would be able to have sex again without risking exposure the way they currently were.

"Don't worry honey, I just had to feel you one last time. You looked incredible and you did so well on your first time!"

His compliments warmed her thoroughly. If he'd really wanted to, Jiheon would have let her father fuck her silly; especially if he was going to fill her up again. She was glad, however, when he removed his prodding erection from her once and for all. Again, cum seeped out of her, easing his rod as it slid along her clit wonderfully when he leaned in to kiss her.

After they were done making out like teenagers, Jae lifted Jiheon effortlessly and replaced her on the floor. She stood close to him and admired his towering form while hugging him the way she always had. Jae held on to her butt and scratched her back while she purred in his arms.

"I love you daddy." Jiheon cooed.

"I love you too Jiheon." Jae assured her.

After a moment or two they quietly gathered their mess of clothes. Jae helped Jiheon climb back into her uniform. Holding her shirt as she slid her arms back into it, Jae was sorry to see his daughter's tits stowed beneath the school's emblem.

Even after he had her all dressed and ready to go, she still had a trail of his cum sneaking down her leg. He could just see it beneath the hem of her skirt.

"Jiheon, your leg… you have some of my…"

She turned lazily to look, "I have some of my daddy's cum on my leg? Well it keeps dripping out of me so there's no point in cleaning it off!" She was trying to get a rise out of him.

"Hopefully you can cum in me some more later…if you want to daddy?" She was being her usual bouncy self, once again looking innocent and charming in her cheerleader outfit. After she asked, her hand found Jae's cock through his trousers and rubbed it playfully. He groaned as his daughter slid her hand over it a few times before releasing him.

"I'll take that as a yes. Gotta go dad, meet you at the car!"

He watched her pert backside push backward as she leaned through the gap between the bleachers and wall to check for onlookers. From the sound of it, the cheerleading practice was over; he wondered how Jiheon would explain her absence to her friends. She smiled back at him knowingly.

The last thing he saw as she squeezed through and her skirt was pulled upward was the white gleam of his semen on her tiny inner thigh. Knowing his daughter was going to be walking around the school with his fresh spunk inside her young pussy denied him the chance to be rid of his erection before he left the place of their forbidden rendezvous.

He walked like a zombie on the way to his office and then the car, mumbling goodbyes to whoever passed him on the way. Jiheon was all he could think of: what they'd done, how things would change, but most of all how amazing it was to have fucked his little girl senseless.

It was all he could do not seek her out before she made her way to the car. But she was worth the wait, back in the cute outfit she'd been wearing before, the short sweater dress boasted her youthfully smooth thighs. Despite having her in front of him, naked but for her long socks only half an hour before, now that her body was hidden from him he wanted to rip her clothes off and see again. It was as if his appetite for her had increased tenfold.

Jiheon was surprisingly comfortable with what had happened between them. She talked about how it felt, what her favorite part was… she was so innocent for a teenager who had so recently had unprotected sex with her father.

"My favorite was when you were fucking me from behind, isn't it called doggie?" She asked sweetly. "I felt like you were poking me so far inside, and you kept touching this spot that made me shake every time."

He explained everything she asked, and hearing his own daughter describe their incest in such detail tented his pants immediately.

"And then when you came in me, ohh my god," Jiheon sounded aroused as well. "As soon as I felt it I had another orgasm."

When Jiheon looked over at her father, he looked uncomfortable and seemed to be adjusting his pants.

"Awww Dad, am I making you get all big and hard again?" She teased him, "Here let me help."

Jiheon quickly reached over and grabbed him through his pants before fumbling with his belt and button. She wasted little time freeing his cock through the hole in his boxers beneath.

First she was stroking him, jerking her hand up and down on his pole like she'd seen before. But when she decided to change things up a bit it shocked her father thoroughly. She leaned over the center console and flicked her tongue on his tip. When she felt him jolt, Jiheon looked up into her father's eyes.

"Does that feel good dad?" She lapped at the underside of his tip twice, three times again."What should I do next?"

"Ohh honey," Jae moaned, "can you put it in your mouth?"

"It's big but I 'll try it for you!"

Jiheon opened her mouth wide, putting the tip of her father's cock on her tongue and padding it as she tried to take him into her mouth. It was a tight fit, but she pushed down further and challenged herself to take more. Her father's involuntary gasps told her she was doing something right.

"Oh you're doing well baby… just like that." Jiheon's father instructed.

She began to bob her head up and down while her father guided her by the neck. Within a minute or so, she was sprawled across the console to be able to touch him with two hands and her mouth at the same time. Her dress was already tugging downward in her position, so Jae simply took the opportunity to push it down further over his daughter's breasts.

Her young, perky chest came free and was pushed upward noticeably by the neck of the sweater. Her head went up and down, followed by a hand on his shaft and the other gently massaging his balls. Jae's daughter seemed to be a natural; only halfway home and he could feel his orgasm welling from inside him.

Jae was fondling his daughter's breasts and anywhere else he could reach as she sucked him. A few times she moaned; the hum from her sweet vocal cords urging him along as effectively as her mouth and fingers. Up and down she slurped; Jae was lucky to keep the car pointed straight. At least two cars driving along noticed what Jiheon was up to, matching his speed briefly to watch the little eighteen year-old nod her head in his lap. If only they knew she was sucking her father's cock… the truth made him throb.

"Jiheon you're gonna make me… uhhh… I'm gonna come baby…"

She didn't budge, only kept sucking him in and out of her mouth. She wagged her tongue back and forth over her daddy's shaft and tip. Her mouth was getting tired but she wanted desperately to make her father cum again.

She succeeded. While paused at a stoplight, she felt the first jet of cum squirt against the roof of her mouth. Jiheon lingered at the ridge of his helmet, sucking and licking amorously while her hand jerked up and down her father's staff. Each stroke pumped another stream of his cum into her mouth. Jiheon was humming again as she took in his cum.

Jae was lost; his vision left him and he could barely keep his eyes on the road. She obviously didn't know how sensitive his tip would be after she swallowed all of his load, and she kept slurping around his head.

"Ohhh Jiheon… baby you have to stop…Daddy gets sensitive when you make him…ooo… cum." Despite how cute she looked he couldn't take it anymore.

Jiheon looked up at him, wide-eyed and adorable. She slowly removed him from her mouth, flicking her tongue on him once for good measure. She was still holding him firmly, so she removed her hand and placed it on his chest while her father took deep breaths to recover. It made her happy to watch him so obviously drained from her efforts.

She helped him get his cock back in his pants and within a few more minutes, they were pulling in the driveway.

As the door opened and they drove into the garage, both father and daughter realized how different a situation they were in from doing the same thing the last time the door had shut behind them. The dark garage and the intimate cabin of the car would likely be the last time they could be truly alone for a while. Seeing her there, with her little dress scrunched around her waist, legs slung over the chair, all he could think about was how he wanted to spend as much time with her in his arms as possible.

"Baby, we are going to have to be very careful now, okay?" Jae said to his daughter.

"You mean I can't tell mom I fucked you instead of going to cheerleading practice?" Jiheon joked, "I can't tell her you fucked your little girl and came in my pussy?"

"Jiheon, I'm not kidding." Jae assured her, hoping her innocent look was an act.

"I know daddy, I promise I'll be a good little girl." She said it as she smoothed her skirt over her thighs and fixed her hair. "Until you come see me tonight and show me how to be bad again."

Jae smiled and his daughter did too. Neither of them knew what exactly was in store for them but both knew they couldn't simply end the inspired love and lust they had discovered. Jiheon got out of the car first, stealing a kiss before she grabbed her things and skipped to the door.

"Mom, I'm home! You'll never guess what happened at school today!" She flashed a mischievous grin back at her dad who followed through the door.

It was the same one she wore when she pretended to be asleep as her father called her name after slipping into her bedroom that night. Jiheon knew if he came any closer he'd see her face down on the bed, with her nightie all bunched at her waist, her naked lower half pushing up so he could see her bare, wet pussy just waiting for him.

Maybe he'd come to tell her they had to stop… but she doubted it.

#fromis_9 smut #jiheon smut #gg smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #fromis_9 #jiheon #smut #kpop #fromis_9 jiheon #girl group smut

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nikixkoo · 26 days ago

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌

pairing: jungkook x f!reader.

word count: 6k

content warnings: smut [MDNI], protected sex, dirty talk, oc’s a nightclub dancer.

a/n: hi! it’s niki here. 𐙚 to be honest, i don’t know if this will have a second part, but for now, i hope u enjoyed reading it. lots of love, muak. ≽^•⩊•^≼

summary: You dance beneath the harsh glow of neon lights, each movement a promise, each step a declaration of independence. Living on your own isn’t easy, and the money doesn’t always stretch far. But in the nightclub, you’ve found a place where you can truly be yourself, a place that makes you feel free.

Jungkook is everything you’ve learned to distrust. A music prodigy wrapped in luxury, carrying wealth, fame, and a smile that could melt anyone.

When his world collides with yours one fateful night, neither of you expects what happens next. He sees you, and in that moment, everything changes for both of you.

You fix your lipstick in a mirror that’s seen better days, the fluorescent light above buzzing like it’s got secrets to spill. Behind you, the dressing room hums with chatter, perfume clouds, and the sound of stilettos clacking against worn tile. Someone giggles. Someone curses. You barely hear it.

Your focus is razor-sharp. The crimson lipstick stains your mouth like a weapon. You’ve learned how to wear it like armor.

You step out onto the stage with the kind of confidence you’ve learned to fake until it feels real. The lights are dim and seductive, low purples and moody reds licking across your skin like silk. The air is thick with smoke and perfume, the scent of attention heavy in your lungs.

Love, I said real love…

The opening notes of Cherry drip through the speakers like slow, warm honey, and you feel it before the sound even reaches your ears. It wraps around you, slinks into your spine, and settles in your bones.

You don’t rush. You never rush.

Your fingers trail down your sides, slow and teasing, as your body moves to the rhythm, hips rolling in a lazy figure-eight that draws every gaze like gravity. You let your head fall back, exposing the column of your neck, lips parted just slightly. The music is a heartbeat beneath your skin, and you let it lead you, let it possess you.

A touch from your real love…

There’s a chair waiting center stage. You walk toward it with purpose, heels clicking against the glossy floor like a countdown. You turn your back to the crowd, lower yourself onto the seat like a whisper, and spread your legs just enough for the room to hold its breath.

Darlin’, darlin’, darlin’, I fall to pieces when I’m with you…

You run your hands up the inside of your thighs, slow and deliberate, eyes hooded as you look out into the sea of shadows.

And that’s when you feel him.

You don’t know how or why, but somehow, you know exactly where he is. Back corner. Booth. Dressed in black like sin dressed itself up to behave. His gaze is molten, quiet, and sharp enough to cut through the noise.

You tilt your head slightly, just enough for him to wonder if that glance was for him. And it was.

Still seated, you slide one leg over the arm of the chair, reclining like you belong to the stage, like the world should beg to touch you. Your hand slips up your torso, fingers brushing under your chest, and you arch into your own touch—not for them, not for the money—but because it reminds you this body is yours.

You move like liquid. Like smoke curling in the dark. The song coils tighter, and so do you, legs closing slowly, body shifting with sin-soaked grace. The chair groans beneath you as you lean forward, hands gripping the edges. You let your tongue touch your lip, let the lights catch the sheen on your skin.

And my cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme…

You drag the final steps out like a promise you don’t plan to keep, rising from the chair one last time and walking offstage as if you don’t notice the tension you leave behind.

The dressing room swallows you like a deep breath.

Backstage, the lights are too bright, and the air too still. You peel off your heels, stretch your legs, and lean back against the wall, still in your performance set, still buzzing from the stage. Sweat clings to your skin, the lace of your top damp where it hugs your ribs. You don’t care. That was one of your best sets in weeks, and you felt it.

You think about him. Dark eyes. That stare. The way his presence reached you from across the club like heat from a flame.

You try not to let it linger. You’ve got other things to focus on. Rent, groceries, getting home without your ankle giving out. But even as you wipe off your lipstick and slip into your hoodie, he’s still there, in the corner of your thoughts, in the imprint of his gaze.

Time skips forward.

It’s late now, the club is closing, the night air bites at your skin as you step outside, the sounds of the city soft in your ears. You wrap your hoodie tighter around you, your little backpack slung over one shoulder, heels hanging from your fingers.

The sidewalk is mostly empty. Most of the crowd has already scattered into cabs and Ubers, high on alcohol and neon. You’re about to head for the subway when you see him.

Leaning against a sleek black car parked across the street. Hands in his pockets. Still in that same all-black outfit, like he never left.

His eyes meet yours, and this time, he smiles.

You slow your steps, unsure for just a moment if you should keep walking. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

There’s a quiet confidence in it, something that tells you he’s not used to chasing, but he will, if he has to. You step off the curb and cross the street.

“Were you waiting for someone?” you ask, voice calm, curious. You keep your distance, but not too much, just enough to test the air between you.

His gaze flicks down, then back up. “I wasn’t sure,” he says. “I thought maybe I imagined you.”

You tilt your head, trying not to smirk. “You didn’t.”

“Didn’t think so.”

The night hums around you. He still hasn’t told you his name.

“Jungkook,” he says, like he felt the thought leave your mind.

You nod. “You always wait outside clubs for dancers?”

He chuckles. “First time. I guess I got lucky.”

You narrow your eyes slightly, intrigued. “You don’t seem like the type to come here.”

“I’m not.” He leans back against the car a little more. “My friends dragged me. Said it would be good to get out, I didn’t argue.”

“And now you’re here. Still.”

“And now I’m here,” he repeats, like it means something. “What about you? You always leave looking like that and walk straight into the night?”

You shrug, shifting your heels in your grip. “This is me after work. You should see me at rock bottom.”

He laughs again, and this time, it’s genuine. It crinkles the corners of his eyes. “I don’t think you have a rock bottom.”

You glance at him. His jawline sharp in the streetlight, earring catching the glow, one hand dragging through his hair like he’s trying to stay cool. He’s not trying to impress you, he’s just interested, and that’s dangerous.

You’ve learned to be careful with men who have everything.

“You should go home,” you say eventually. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, but makes no move. “You got someone waiting on you?”

The question is light, but loaded. You smile, tired. “No. Just bills.”

He nods, eyes flicking down to your heels again. “Want a ride?”

“No thanks,” you say, not unkindly. “If you’re smart, you won’t wait for anyone who dances like I do.”

He raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

You hold his stare. “Because girls like me don’t lead you anywhere safe.”

The moment hangs, then you walk past him, brushing lightly against his sleeve.

He turns as you go. Watches you disappear into the night with that same look he wore in the club, like he’s still trying to figure you out.

The walls of your apartment are thin, not just the kind of thin where you can hear neighbors argue, the kind where it feels like your life could split down the middle if you breathe too hard. You’ve been here six months, and it still doesn’t feel like home.

You’re curled up on your couch, a cup of instant coffee in one hand and your phone in the other, the glow of your banking app reflecting off your tired eyes. The numbers glare at you, mock you. Rent’s due in four days.

You have almost enough. Almost enough to cover bills, almost enough to maybe buy some groceries, almost enough to keep pretending this version of your life isn’t eating you from the inside out.

You rub your thumb over the screen. Your feet aches from hours in heels. Your shoulders are sore. You’ve got another shift tonight.

And still, it’s not enough.

You let your head fall back against the couch. Maybe if you picked up more shifts, maybe if you danced dirtier, maybe if you finally said yes to that older guy who keeps asking for a private show.

You hate thinking like that. But sometimes, surviving means doing things you swore you wouldn’t.

You glance over at your worn-out calendar taped to the wall, two more weeks until your second job pays out, until then, it’s late nights and glittered skin, making magic onstage for strangers who toss money without ever seeing you.

Well… except for one.

You blink that thought away like it’s dust in your eyes. He was just another rich man with too much time and not enough boundaries. He looked at you like he was curious, like you were a mystery, you’ve seen that before.

You set the coffee down, pull your knees up to your chest, and try to breathe through the pressure closing in behind your ribs.

You’ll figure it out. You always do. But damn, you’re tired of surviving.

The club is already breathing heavy when you arrive. Bass pounding through the walls, lights spilling onto velvet floors, bodies moving like shadows in a fever dream.

Your locker’s waiting. So is your routine. But before you can even make it down the hallway, a familiar voice calls after you.

“Got something interesting for you, sweetheart.”

You turn around. Your manager, Dean, is grinning like he knows a secret. You arch a brow. “If it’s another pair of fishnets, I’ll scream.”

He chuckles. “Better. Or worse, depending on how you see it.”

You follow him back to the dressing room, your curiosity sharp. He gestures toward your station, where a black velvet box sits, untouched and elegant, like it doesn’t belong in a place like this.

“What is it?” you ask slowly.

He shrugs. “Open it and see.”

You hesitate. Nothing good comes wrapped like that. Not in this world. Still, your fingers move before your mind can catch up. The lid lifts, and your breath catches.

A choker. Thin, intricate, red velvet lined with diamonds, tiny but real. You can tell by the glint under the lights, it’s delicate and rich and dangerous, it’s the kind of thing worn by women who know they’re being desired.

Dean crosses his arms. “You gonna wear it?”

You close the box. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On who gave it to me.”

He gives you a sly smirk. “Then you might want to take a peek at the lounge.”

Your pulse stumbles. You step out of the room, shoes silent against the carpet now, and look.

He’s there, again. In the far booth. Casually lounging like he’s part of the decor. Black slacks, a fitted shirt rolled at the sleeves, rings glinting on his fingers, one ankle crossed over the other. A drink in front of him, untouched. His eyes already locked on yours.

A smile curves across his lips, you stare back for a second too long, heat crawling up your spine. Then you disappear back into the dressing room. You don’t say a word to Dean, you don’t explain. You just take the choker out of the box and fasten it around your neck.

You change into your outfit for the night, a deep crimson bodysuit, sheer panels that show just enough, long sleeves that hug your arms, heels that add an edge to every step. You keep the choker on.

He gave it to you, and you want him to see it.

The night starts slowly, but you can feel him there. Watching from his booth, nursing that drink he hasn’t touched. You dance for others, smile for them, let them fantasize for the length of a song. But the only eyes that matter tonight are his.

You pass his booth once, on your way to the bar. His fingers tap against the glass lazily, but his gaze trails down the line of your legs, lingers on your throat—on the choker.

“You wore it,” he says lowly as you pass.

You don’t stop walking. Just smile over your shoulder. “It matched the mood.”

He chuckles behind you. The kind of laugh you feel in your stomach.

Later, as the night starts to wind down and the crowd thins, you find him standing at the bar, no entourage or noise, just him. He’s been patient. But his eyes are hungry now.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he says, voice dipped in velvet.

You lean against the bar beside him. Close, but not quite touching. “That’s bold.”

He shrugs. “I’m not good at pretending I don’t want something.”

Your fingers toy with the edge of your glass. “And what do you want?”

“You.” The word drops between you like a spark. “But not like this,” he adds, eyes steady. “Not just in glimpses. I want to sit across from you and hear your voice when the music’s not drowning it out.”

You’re quiet for a moment, staring at him. It should be easy to say no. You’ve had men want more, want what they shouldn’t, but he’s not like them.

There’s no pressure in his words, and… something you haven’t seen in a long time. Something real.

You take a sip of your drink and finally smile. “Maybe.”

His lips twitch. “Maybe’s a good start.”

Your shift ends later than you’d like. The night stretched long with sweaty bills tucked into your thighs and too many hands reaching for a version of you they’ll never truly get. But all you could think about was that choker on your neck… and the way he looked at you like you were the only person who mattered in the whole damn room.

“Goodnight, baby,” one of the girls purrs, already halfway out the door, heels swinging in hand.

You nod, half-dazed. The rush has faded, but your heart still beats fast, because it’s not over yet.

You head back into the dressing room, peeling off the crimson bodysuit, watching your reflection in the mirror as your skin shimmers faintly with leftover stage light.

You change slowly. A black dress that hugs your hips and dips just enough at the front to make your pulse jump. Strappy heels. Clean skin, the faintest trace of perfume behind your ears, and the choker stays on. Of course it does.

Outside, the city is humming. Night air kisses your skin with a bite, but you barely notice, because he’s there.

Leaning against the side of his car, hands in his pockets, sleeves pushed up just enough to show the ink on his arms. His hair is messy in that way that looks styled on purpose, and his gaze is already locked on you the second you step into view.

He doesn’t say a word at first, he just looks at you. From the choker down to your dress, down your legs, then back up again, slower.

You walk toward him, your heels soft against the pavement, lips curved. “Thought maybe meant maybe,” you tease, stopping just a breath away.

He smiles. “You don’t dress like a maybe.”

You tilt your head, heart racing. “You always this smug?”

“Only when it works.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but there’s no denying the heat between you.

He opens the passenger door without a word, and you slip inside, the choker catching the light as you move. It’s quiet in the car, just the pulse of the city and the rustle of your dress as you cross your legs.

Jungkook slides into the driver’s seat and glances at you sideways, eyes dark with something wicked and wondering.

“You look like trouble,” he says.

You smile slowly. “So do you.”

The restaurant is drenched in luxury. Everything glows with a low, golden hue that makes every table feel like a secret. Crystal glasses, flickering candles, linen napkins folded with mathematical precision. It smells like money in here. Old money. And for a moment, you feel like you’re wearing someone else’s skin.

Jungkook walks like he belongs here. He thanks the hostess with a nod, hand resting lightly at the small of your back as she leads you to a booth tucked into the curve of the wall. It’s intimate, shadowed. You slide in across from him, trying not to feel small, or out of place.

When the menus come, you pick yours up slowly. It’s black leather, the font too elegant to be readable at a glance. Your eyes trail down the list, and your heart drops with every number beside every name.

₩92,000 for an entrée. ₩160,000 for a bottle of wine.

Even if it’s not your money, the guilt creeps in. You should be focused on the rent due in four days, not sitting across from a man who smells like spice and sin, making you forget you’ve been scraping coins out of your coat pockets all week.

He notices the way your fingers still against the page. “Hey,” he says, voice smooth and quiet, but pointed. “Order whatever you want.”

You glance up. “I— It’s just…”

“I know,” he interrupts, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But you don’t have to worry about that. Not tonight.”

You hesitate. He leans forward, tattooed fingers wrapping around the stem of his wine glass. “If I bring you somewhere, it means I want you there. Let me have that.”

You feel the breath catch in your throat, because it sounds so simple when he says it. Like indulgence isn’t dangerous. Like pleasure isn’t a slippery slope.

But deep down, guilt bubbles beneath the surface. You should be thinking about the bills piling up in your tiny apartment, you should be clocking into your next shift, counting tips, wondering if you’ll make it.

Instead, you’re here. Wrapped in silk, lips glossed, his choker still hugging your neck, letting a man like him treat you like you’re worth more than what the world ever gave you.

You close the menu slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. “You really are impossible.”

He grins. “That’s not a no.”

And it isn’t. Because no matter how hard your reality pulls, there’s something magnetic about the way he looks at you. Like you’re art. Like you’re a fucking storm.

The wine is deep and red, almost black in the low lighting, and you take the first sip slower than you mean to. It’s sweet, rich, the kind of expensive you’d never order on your own. You glance over your glass at him, lips still wet from the drink, and find him already watching you.

“What?” you ask, setting the glass down with a soft clink.

He rests his cheek against his hand, rings catching the candlelight. “Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”

You raise a brow. “Good luck with that.”

“I like a challenge.”

You laugh, softly. But beneath it, there’s a hum of something warmer. Something that cuts deeper than playful banter.

“Why me?” you ask before you can stop yourself. The question slips out too honestly, too bare. You hate that it does.

He blinks, then tilts his head like he’s surprised you even have to ask. “Because you walked like you weren’t afraid of being looked at,” he says. “And danced like no one ever saw you the way you wanted them to.”

God. That shouldn’t feel as raw as it does.

“I didn’t think you were watching that closely.”

“I wasn’t watching,” he says, voice lower now. “I was caught.”

You stare at him for a beat too long, your heart hammering in your ears. It shouldn’t get to you, but it does. You look away, your fingers tightening around your wine glass.

“I should be worrying about my rent,” you murmur, half to yourself, half to him. “Not sitting here with a guy who wears watches worth more than my entire apartment.”

He doesn’t laugh, he just looks at you, seriously this time. “Then let me be the exception.”

You meet his gaze again, and for once, he’s not cocky or teasing. He’s… sincere. Dangerous in a whole different way, and somehow, that’s worse. Because you can already feel yourself leaning in.

The car ride is quiet, but not calm.

Jungkook’s hand rests casually on the wheel, his other arm draped along the center console, fingers inches from your bare thigh. You’re still in the same dress, the one that felt powerful earlier, but now it feels tight, like your skin is stretched too thin. Too aware of him beside you. The scent of his cologne. The warmth of his voice still coiled inside you.

You glance at him once, but he’s already looking at the road, jaw tight. You know he wants to say something. You know you want to say something. But neither of you does.

When he pulls up to your apartment, the street is quiet. Your building stands there, small, a little worn down, but home. His engine idles. You reach for the door handle, but pause.

“I had a good time,” you say quietly.

He turns toward you, one arm still resting on the steering wheel. “I did too.”

You linger in that second, waiting for it to end, but it doesn’t. His eyes drop to your lips. His jaw ticks.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask, breath barely audible.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a second. But then, his voice comes low. “Are you sure?”

You nod, heart pounding. He kills the engine and gets out.

You leave the door to your apartment cracked behind you, and the moment he steps inside, he sees all of it. Your life in its smallest, truest form.

Shoes scattered by the door. An old mug on the table. A tiny couch barely big enough for one person to stretch out. This isn’t his world, but he doesn’t blink. He just looks at you.

You slip your shoes off quietly, walking toward the middle of the room, unsure what to do with your hands, your breath, your desire.

“You live alone,” he murmurs, eyes slowly sweeping the space.

“Yeah.”

He steps closer. “Doesn’t feel lonely?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. But it’s quiet. And it’s mine.”

He nods, but his gaze lingers on your lips again. He’s closer now, only a few inches separating your breath from his. And then, like it’s inevitable, you lean in.

Your lips brush his, just barely. You feel his breath stutter. His hands clench at his sides, like he’s holding back. But you’re done holding back.

You press your mouth to his, full this time, and he groans into it, like you’ve finally broken something he’s been trying to keep caged. His hands rise, one threading into your hair, the other gripping your waist.

Your back hits the wall, and he kisses you like it’s oxygen. His mouth moves over yours, tongue tasting, claiming. You gasp when his teeth catch your bottom lip. He swallows it down like a curse.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispers against your mouth, voice ragged.

You whimper, fingers clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer until there’s nothing between your bodies but heat.

“You want this?” he asks, lips ghosting along your jaw, down your throat.

“God, yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

And that’s all he needs. He lifts you easily, lips never leaving yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you toward the bedroom, or hell, ‘cause you’d let him take you right there if he asked.

He carries you through the short hallway like it costs him nothing. One arm under your thighs, the other curled around your back, holding you like you weigh less than a thought. You feel the muscles in his chest flex against you, the soft drag of his breath near your neck, the beat of his pulse hammering through his skin.

You don’t tell him which door. He picks the right one anyway.

Your bedroom is small, barely more than a mattress pushed up against the wall and a rickety dresser, but it’s clean. It smells like you, soft perfume, maybe vanilla, and Jungkook freezes for a second in the doorway.

Like stepping into your space is suddenly more intimate than kissing you. But you’re already pulling him back in.

Your hands are in his hair, fingers tugging gently, tilting his head until you find his mouth again. He groans into the kiss, and this time, it’s needier, more frantic. His hands slide down your thighs as he sets you on the edge of the bed, and he doesn’t let you go, not for a second.

Your legs fall open for him instinctively. His body slots between them like he was made to fit there.

“You’re so—” he starts, but his voice breaks off in a low growl. His hand comes up, brushing hair from your face, then trails down your jaw, over your throat, and lower. “—fucking beautiful.”

You shiver at the rasp in his voice, the reverence tangled in the filth.

Your hands slide beneath his shirt, soft cotton stretched across a lean chest. He watches you as you push it up, exposing inch after inch of inked skin. His abs flex beneath your touch, and he hisses when your fingertips trace the lines between muscle and tattoo.

“You wanna touch me, baby?” he murmurs, voice like honey-drenched sin. “Then do it. Take what you want.”

And god, you do. You lift his shirt over his head, and he lets you, dropping it somewhere on the floor. Your hands roam his body like you’re trying to memorize it. His skin is warm, smooth, and covered in ink and heat.

“Take it off,” he whispers, fingertips brushing the strap of your dress. “Please.”

That please wrecks you. You slide the straps down slowly, teasingly, letting the silky fabric pool around your waist. You’re not wearing a bra, and Jungkook’s gaze drops like gravity’s pulling it.

“Fuck,” he says, almost reverently. His hands rise, hesitating just an inch from your chest.

“Touch me,” you whisper.

His palms cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they stiffen, until your hips shift restlessly beneath him. He kisses your chest slowly, tongue dragging, mouth worshipping. He trails kisses down your stomach, open-mouthed and warm, until he’s kneeling between your thighs, looking up at you like a man starving.

His hands trail up your legs. His thumbs stroke gently along the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps with each inch.

He looks up at you from between your thighs, lips parted, eyes dark and blown out. “Lay back,” he says softly. “Let me taste you.”

You sink into the mattress, hair splayed around you, your breath already caught somewhere between your ribs and your throat. And when he slides your panties down your legs, leans in and kisses you there, slow and open-mouthed, like you’re something delicate and holy, you swear you feel it in your soul.

The first lick is gentle. Experimental. He watches your reaction as his tongue flicks once, then again, a little firmer. Your legs tremble. Your fingers twist into the sheets.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

He hums like he agrees. His mouth is warm, wet and perfect, tongue stroking with unhurried precision, lips sucking softly, gently. It’s not rushed, it’s thorough, like he’s learning you. Mapping the way your breath stutters when he drags the flat of his tongue up and flicks at the top. The way your hips buck when he moans against you, sending vibrations through your bones.

You’re soaked in seconds, your back arching, one hand covering your mouth and the other clutching his hair, grounding yourself to the only thing that matters right now.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs, pulling back just long enough to speak, then licking a slow stripe that makes you whimper. “You want me to stop?”

You shake your head desperately. “Don’t you dare.”

That makes him grin, mouth shiny with you. “Didn’t plan to.”

And then he dives back in, more eager now, more relentless. His tongue works in tight, steady circles, and when he slips one finger inside you, it’s all too much.

You come with a gasp, legs shaking, voice breaking around his name. He keeps going until your hips jerk from oversensitivity, and even then, he kisses the inside of your thigh like a goodbye.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then rises to hover over you, gaze fixed on your face.

“You’re unreal,” he whispers, brushing hair from your cheek. “Do you know that?”

You shake your head, too breathless to speak, but your body tells the truth.

You pull him down to kiss you again, and this time, there’s nothing soft about it. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the taste of your mouth. Like he’s starving, but still somehow patient, hands braced on either side of your head, his body suspended over yours like he’s keeping himself in check.

He pulls back, staring at you. You drag your palms down his chest, and he watches you with hooded eyes, lips parted, breath heavy.

Then his hand cups your jaw. “I want you,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “But I’m not going inside you without a condom.”

You blink, your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.

God, even when he’s like this, cocky, dominant, eyes dark and body tense with want, he still thinks. He still respects you.

You nod, breathlessly. “Top drawer.”

He leans over you, muscles shifting beneath his inked skin as he slides it open and pulls out a condom. You’re still catching your breath, thighs slightly parted, watching him like he’s something out of a fever dream.

He stands. His eyes stay locked with yours as his fingers go to the front of his slacks, and your mouth runs dry when you hear the slow drag of his zipper.

He slides them down, unhurried, the material catching on the curve of his hips before pooling at his ankles. His black boxers cling to him, the outline of his cock so thick and perfect it makes your head spin.

When he hooks his thumbs in the waistband and pushes them down, your breath hitches.

He’s big. Hard. Veins prominent, tip flushed and glistening, his cock bobbing slightly as it’s freed.

He strokes himself once, just enough to make your thighs press together, and then rips the condom wrapper open between his teeth, a soft hiss escaping as he rolls it on with expert ease.

“Been dying to fuck you properly.”

And then he’s back, one hand braced on your hip, the other guiding himself to your entrance.

You’re still soaked, still aching from the way his tongue worshiped you minutes ago, and when he pushes in, your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“Shit,” he groans. “You’re so tight…”

He gives you time to adjust. Every inch deeper comes with a slow grind of his hips, his lips brushing your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone.

And when he’s finally all the way in, bottomed out and still holding back, you swear you’ve never felt so full.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, nails digging into his shoulders. “You can move.”

He starts slow. Each thrust is measured, his hips pressing into yours like he’s savoring the stretch, like he’s mapping out every gasp he can pull from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. His mouth finds your neck again, sucking softly, tongue dragging over your pulse.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs. “You don’t even know.”

You moan, your hips arching into his, chasing more friction. But it’s not enough, not yet. He’s still holding back, still careful. Still too gentle.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, voice cracking.

He pulls back enough to look at you. “Yeah?”

Your eyes burn into his. “Don’t hold back. Please.”

There’s a flicker in his eyes, something primal that’s barely been caged.

“You sure?” His voice is lower now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You shake your head, breathless. “I need it.”

And that’s all it takes. He slams back into you, hard enough to make the headboard knock. He sets a rhythm that’s filthy and perfect, each thrust hitting a spot that makes your toes curl.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he pants, driving into you with rough, perfect thrusts. “You’re taking me so well. Look at you.”

He catches your gaze, and your breath catches. You’re not sure if it’s the pace, or the way he sees you like this, but it’s too much, too good.

Your legs tremble, tightening around his waist, and you arch into him with a breathless cry.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he growls. “Let me hear you.”

You moan his name like a prayer and a curse, your body burning at the edges.

He leans down, mouth grazing your ear, voice rough silk. “Feel how deep I am, baby?” He grinds his hips, rolling them just right. “Right where you need me.”

You can’t even answer, only whimper, nails dragging across his back. He groans at that, dark and wrecked.

Then suddenly, he pulls out. You gasp, dazed and blinking up at him, but he’s already grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your stomach in one smooth motion.

“Up,” he commands, voice thick and ragged. “On your knees.”

You obey without thinking, and his hands immediately grab your hips, pulling you back until you feel his cock drag between your folds.

He gives you one slow thrust, then pulls back, teasing. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, sliding back in, this time hard and deep. “You’re dripping so much for me.”

He snaps his hips, and you cry out, bracing yourself as he fucks you from behind, rough and fast, a hand sliding around your throat as he pulls you back against him. His other hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit with ease.

“Come on,” he growls. “One more. I wanna feel you clench around me while I fuck you.”

You’re already so close. Your moans turn frantic, eyes fluttering as his fingers work you faster, his thrusts unrelenting.

“That’s it, baby. Let me ruin you.”

You come with a scream, your body shaking, thighs trembling. You collapse forward, but he doesn’t stop, rides you through it until your body’s boneless, twitching under him.

“Shit—” he groans, and with one final deep thrust, he spills inside the condom, body tensing over yours.

Silence follows, charged and intimate. You feel his weight shift slightly, one arm wrapping around your waist as he lowers both of you to the bed gently.

For a second, neither of you says a word. His breath is hot against your shoulder, lips brushing skin like an apology and a promise all at once.

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling you to his chest.

You let him. Heart pounding, skin flushed, body aching in the best way. You don’t know what this is, what it’ll become, but tonight, you don’t care.

And in the quiet that follows, with his fingers stroking lazy circles into your spine and his breath steady beside yours, you realize, maybe for the first time in a long time, you feel safe.

Even if it’s just for tonight.

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