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georgiapeach30513 · 3 months

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Just Like the Caged Bird, Part 10

Summary: Andy gets jealous

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, sex in a work place, oral sex (F receiving), getting caught, obsession, possession, breeding kink, manipulations, depictions of grief, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.8K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Andy sighs, removing his fingers from the keyboard. Normally he would have his office door closed, hoping to keep people from bothering him. But not on days that you worked. You are the best kind of distraction. He has to keep twisting his head to look out his door to see you on the phone, or making copies for him.

You brightened up the office whether you realized it or not. Even when you got overwhelmed or confused, and needed to ask him something. And the joy that spreads across your face when he helps you figure something out. You caught up to things quickly, and he wished you didn’t. It would mean more time with him.

You had a need to please him, and you did. Every bit of movement you did felt like it was just for him. And now he gets to see you in pencil skirts, heels, button up blouses, dresses — this is his favorite fantasy. Even when he shouldn’t have been looking at you, he knew you would grow up into the woman you are. And now you were his and he could look at you whenever he damn well pleased.

There were some minor setbacks to get you to him, and he is sorry that his brother had to pass in order for him to have you. What he isn’t sorry for is the fact that he knew you were always his. Jake was always a place holder, but he hated the fact that he had you first. However, you were now slowly coming around, and so reactive to him.

It is incredible to see you listen and obey. The way you longed for his touch, and melted into him. You deserved to be spoiled in ways that no one ever has. Men were always leaving you. Your father was off into oblivion. Your brothers were always leaving for something or other. Jake decided the army was more important than spending time with his wife, and what did it cause him? He hates thinking about his brother like that, but Andy has no intentions of leaving you.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t hear your heels clicking towards his office. Placing a hand on the doorframe, you lean into his office with the most beautiful smile. “It’s a bit slow today,” you start talking. Your nickname of Songbird makes even more sense with how melodic you sound.

“You can’t leave for the day.”

“I didn’t want to,” he watches as your hand rubs up and down the door frame, your smile getting larger. “I was wondering if you’d like me to go get us some coffee.”

“There’s a coffee machine in the break room,” he gives you a little smirk, already deciding that yes, he was going to let you go get some coffee. You said ‘us’.

”Yes, but that’s just boring K Cups. Wouldn’t you like a latte? Maybe a shaken espresso?”

“Would that make you happy, sweetheart?” He swears, and you could break his heart from your wide grin. Nodding your head in excitement. You stand up straight in the door, and he gets to see your entire body on display. Your outfit is perfect for him. Hugging every curve of your body. Work got both harder and better because of you. “Fine, surprise me. Nothing too sweet, and no vanilla. Here, let me get you my card.”

“Andy! I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Then come sit in my lap, and give me a kiss. You’ll have paid me in full,” you may give him a coy smile, shaking your head, but you close the door to go sit on his lap. He grabs ahold of your hips starting a slow grind on him. “I don’t think you realize how much I have wanted you.”

“I have an idea,” you whisper, leaning into his neck. Your dangerous game starts early today. Panting on his neck, while you whisper his name. He plays his games, too. Edging himself so when he does get you he goes harder and deeper than you thought possible. Knowing that even though his cock is hardening under your ass that he won’t act on his primal need to have you.

“Have you thought about my suggestion,” you whimper onto his neck. Pressing open mouth kisses behind the shell of his ear, and he moves you harder. “Don’t change the subject. I took your temp this morning. You’re not ovulating.”

“I don’t know if that works,” answering honestly. Why did he always want to talk about things of this nature while you’re distracted? It’s like you couldn’t fully concentrate on either one, and you would just go with whatever he decided.

“It’s worked for enough people. It’ll work on you,” his words are a bit hard as he thrusts up. Pushing your front onto his desk, and he gets to his knees. Rucking up your skirt. His calloused fingers hook under the expensive thong he had bought you, moving it aside. He buries his face in your wet heat. Tongue lapping up your juices.

Andy begins to kitten lick your clit. Giving the little nub a nip before he paints butterflies on your core with every stroke of his tongue. Fucking your cunt with his thick muscle, and then back to sucking your clit. Back and forth. Pleasuring and stopping. Confusing your body until you're pushing yourself onto his tongue while he kneels behind you.

Fingers gripping onto the edge of the desk, and you search for that release. Using his face and tongue for your enjoyment. Can feel his devilish smirk on your center. You mewl out in pleasure when you glance behind you. Seeing him burrow so deep into your folds you feel like you’re about to explode.

“Mr. Barber?” You push him off you so fast, collapsing onto the floor in front of him, hiding from his partner’s secretary, and Andy stands up. Straightening his tie. Using his hand to wipe off your juices from his face, he clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I’ll knock next time.”

”Janice? This — she’s my girlfriend.”

”I didn’t ask,” the older woman walks out of his office, and Andy looks down at you with a smirk.

He places his thumb along your bottom lip. Rubbing the smooth skin back and forth before pushing it into your mouth, and you suckle the appendage. Staring up at him with wide eyes. “Your cunt’s showing,” you try to shrug away from his thumb so you can right your skirt. “Uh uh. I like the view. Looking all innocent and vulnerable all because someone saw me feasting on that pretty little pussy. It’s new for me, too.”

“But you’re the man,” you mumble of his thumb before he pulls it out of your mouth. Reaching a hand down to you, and you take it. You stand up, and pull down your skirt. “I don’t want people to think I got this job because we’re sleeping together. I don’t want the news here to be that you’re fucking your office manager. You want to be the DA.”

”I’m fucking my girlfriend. I have you here to spend more time with you because I have a busy schedule. And anytime you and I are behind closed doors, how about we make sure to lock it? They see you arrive with me, and leave with me. Honey, what do you think they thought you were? You’re not some bimbo that I use as a fleshlight. Now, here’s my card. Go buy us some coffee. No vanilla.”

“Caramel?” Your mouth turns up in a sheepish grin. With the sun shining through the window, Andy’s hair looks a bit darker. Too often you get glimpses of what your sunshine boy would look like if he was allowed to get older. You decided to quit denying that part of your attraction to Andy is his resemblance to Jake. Was it wrong? Possibly. But it was your life and your conflicting thoughts.

“Sweetheart, surprise me. No vanilla though,” you grab onto his card, and turn away to get a cute little love tap on your ass. Having to stop yourself when you turn around because that was Jake’s favorite move. And the feeling is too familiar, and you wish it was Jake instead.

Andy’s head lifts up when he hears your giggle. His smile spreads out wide across his face, faltering just a bit when he sees you on the phone animatedly talking to someone as you balance the two coffees in your arms. Pushing into the building. He is almost worried until you give him your warm smile. But it doesn’t stop him from wondering just who you’re talking to.

Bringing him his drink, you give him a quick peck just beside his lips before turning back towards the front, “Yeah, I’ll be home tonight,” he stops his drinking as his steady eyes follow you. Practically glaring as you sit down at your desk. “Okay, but last time you got to choose the movie.”

Fucking Bucky Barnes. Or his little brother. Either way you casually said you were going home tonight. Which was the plan, but you said it so happily. Like you are ready to leave Andy. And all he could think about is the next time that you were going to be with him. Jealousy isn’t the word. He’s angry. His house should be your home, and not some temporary apartment.

You are flirting with Bucky or Steve right in front of him. How could you casually forget all the ways he made you feel? He was just feasting on your juices. He wondered if Bucky knew just how you crumbled before him? What pretty little sounds you made when he filled you up with pleasure, and it was time he filled you up with him.

“Let me ask him. Hold on,” Andy is lost in all the ways he wants to feel himself inside of you, and have Bucky know who you belonged to. Steve knew who you always belonged to, and it was him. “Andy?”

He knew what he had to do. Bucky is getting in the way of what Andy deserved. He waited too long for you. He was patient. Waited on you to be legal and then watched in agony as you fell for Jensen. It was his turn now, and this was the endgame. There is no other option but you and him.

“Andy?”

“Hmm?” He looks up from his hands, staring blankly at you. Still on the damn phone.

“To save time Bucky said he can come pick me up after work.”

“It’s okay,” that is the wrong thing to say as you scrunch up your nose. “I don’t mind driving you back to the apartment,” clear words. That place isn’t your home. He is. “It just means more time with you. And I thought you were going to make me food?”

“You said you had a lot to do with your case. Bucky is just trying to help you out,” of course he is. Bucky is just trying to get in the middle of the greatest thing that has ever happened to him. You rest the phone on your shoulder, giving him a sweet smile, “Remember what I told you I was going to do when we are apart?”

Pictures and video calls would never be the same. It isn’t enough. Only you were enough. But he is beginning to notice when he pushes you too hard the harder you pull away. He’s going to give you this moment even though everything inside him is screaming to wrap you up in his warmth. “I look forward to every part of you,” he answers vaguely. “Fine, tell Bucky he can pick you up.”

“And we're just ordering pizza. You need to stop procrastinating with your work, too. I’m a bad influence,” well that sounds like you didn’t even want him there with you. You need alone time with Bucky. “But if you want to join us, what’s your favorite kind of pizza?”

“Pepperoni and Italian sausage, but you’re right,” you are, but he didn’t didn’t like Bucky. One of these days you would be living completely with Andy, so he supposed it didn’t matter now. But Bucky had to go. You didn’t need guy friends. You should just want Andy. “What are you going to do?”

“I keep telling Bucky we need to watch Neverending Story, but he’s suggesting Hellraiser.”

“Your choice is better,” his choice sounds like a great way to have you clinging to him while you are alone. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. There is a reason that guy liked to watch horror movies. Childish. Neverending Story is safe. It isn’t scary.

“I knew it! Thanks, Andy. He’ll be here around quitting time to pick me up,” and Andy would make sure that Bucky knew exactly how affected you are by him. It isn’t much but it would have to do. You’d just have to learn that if you were going to that dumb apartment, he would leave a mark. Or a few.

Andy takes a quick look at his watch, noting the time and how it is almost time for Bucky to collect you. If he is going to have to be away from you then he’d make sure you kept a part of him, and also felt him the entire time you were away from him. He could already feel your supple skin under his fingers. It’s a feeling he would never grow tire of.

He says your name, and like the sweet and shy girl you are, you stand up quickly and saunter into his office, “Lock the door,” his voice is so low and deep you almost don’t hear it. His intentions are clear in what he wants, so you do as you're told, but hesitate locking the door.

“Bucky will be here soon.”

“I know. And you’re talking is delaying our time. Better hurry, my beautiful sweet, Songbird,” your eyes flutter shut as you lock the door, and slowly glide towards Andy. He holds up a hand for you, pulling you closer to the chair he’s sitting on. Bending over, his mouth presses right into the sensitive shell of your ear, and his thumb rubs over your hand.

You feel yourself going into that space. Completely trusting and full of lust, “I need to get you a car. We’ll do that next weekend.”

“Too soon,” is all you manage to get out as Andy stands, towering over you. His thumb is still tracing circles on you as he pushes you back onto the desk. Dropping your hand to ruck up your skirt. Yanking down your panties so fast, and he stuffs them in his pocket, “Andy.”

“If you’re going to be away from me, I need to remember you. And you’re going to remember me,” stretching out his fingers, he lays his hand flat on your belly. Rubbing over your soft skin before dipping lower. He creates gentle circles on your clit with his thumb, his fingers remaining splayed out on your belly. He bends over your spread body, and you’re forced to keep your legs wide to accommodate his body as he grinds into you.

“You and I are the real deal. And you were worth the wait. I’ll continue to wait on you and the right timing for you. But you said you didn’t want birth control. Do you trust me?” His free hand grabs yours, and he begins to paint circles with his thumb. That motion that relaxes you, and makes your thoughts immediately go to your husband. The current situation mixes with your favorite memories. Andy’s slacks create a delicious friction on your core. And you move back to him for a now.

Your eyes are a black pool of lust. Pupils blown out wide and letting him know the animalistic pull you have for him. You want a home and a family. You want to trust him. You want a simple life. You want to scream and run. You want to be held tightly and have someone tell you everything okay. You want someone to tell you that your feelings are valid. And you’re so fucking scared. Scared to lose. Scared to be alone. Scared of disappointing anyone. And that’s all you have been doing. You want to trust, and there’s a tiny piece that doesn’t.

“Songbird, you look so beautiful like this,” he whispers into your ear, kissing that spot just behind it, and he starts undoing his pants. “I need you so much right now. Trust me. Please.”

An engrained feeling spurts up your throat and you nod your head, “I trust you,” you choke out. Immediately you feel his silky steel rod crash into your warmth without warning. Your back arches up off the desk, and he pounds into you with more force than he ever has before. Implanting himself deep into your core, and demanding that you remember him when he’s not around. “Andy, they’ll hear,” you try to keep your words even and steady, but they’re a pathetic breathy tone.

JJ never pushed into you this hard. It’s a punishing pleasure. You shouldn’t have entertained Andy for this long. Much less this far. And yet, you couldn’t stay away. Your mind and body playing a game of what you want and what you need, and you are tired of fighting.

His hands grip onto your hips so tightly, and his body ruts into you with so much force you see stars. Juices spew out around him, and you dare to peek. Lifting up to see the severe stretch he’s causing you.

Watching as he impales your body. Keeping you full and filled with him. Having to grab onto his arms to brace yourself with each pounding thrust. “I will have every part of you. Every bit, okay?”

“Yes,” you mewl up at him. Your eyes glassed over in pleasure as you feel your tummy heat up. Everything is overwhelming. Andy is intense in more than his motions. Giving a gleeful smile when he hears a door close out front, but all you see is his handsome face. “Andy,” you’re able to bumble out. “Andy.”

It’s just so much. Too much. Flashes of moments when JJ acted like this. Squinting your eyes you see your beautiful sunshine boy. You were supposed to have beautiful babies with that man, and you got dog tags, and his rings. Everything is flying in your mind as you start to lose control. Moments in time blurring with the present.

Wanting the past. Fearing the future. Overwhelmed by the present. What was the right choice? Would he hate you? Does he know that you sometimes saw JJ in him? Did he know how much you missed your husband and what was supposed to be? Did he know you had yours and JJ’s life planned out to perfection and now you’ll never get it with him?

Your fingers dig into his forearms as he races for the finish. Cooing something down to you, but you can’t see. You just see Jake. You feel him. You smell his cologne. You miss him so much, and this moment is transforming, and you can’t stop the words from spewing out. “I want your babies,” you croak out, swallowing deeply before saying his name. Your voice is hardly audible. Andy doesn’t even hear them words that spewed out of your mouth.

“What’s that? What?”

More feelings rushing into your chest as those deep blue eyes look into your soul, “I — I…Andy,” you got his name right, and the words dissipate back into your throat. He isn’t JJ, and you don’t love him like that. You hope you can. And fear that you will.

“I need you to trust me,” he crashes into your one more time. Your walls cling tight to his girth as his warm seed spurts into your belly, and you yelp up at him. “You’re not ovulating,” he says breathlessly. Pressing a hand on your belly again. Nobody had ever had that part of you, and you’re left feeling overwhelmed. The fear never edges away, but only increases as you process what just transpired. “It’s too soon anyways. But I want this with you. I’ve always wanted it with you. Okay?”

You nod your head at him, still unsure of what to feel. “I’ve always wanted you. Even when I shouldn’t,” he pulls himself out of you slowly. Using his fingers to paint your swollen cunt with his spunk. “I just keep seeing moments of us really trying for a family. I need you to want what I want. Be on the same team. I’d give us a good life. You’d never want for anything. I’d get along with your brothers, I would make myself do that for you. Can you,” his fingers stuff themselves inside of you, and you wince. “Do you want that?”

“I don’t know,” his mouth goes flat, and he finally looks up from your center. “Andy this is a lot all at once.”

“He’s never coming back. Don’t chase a ghost.”

“I’m not,” your voice comes out harsh, and you push his fingers away from you. Sitting up on the desk, and you glare at him. “I love him. Still. That is your brother. And you’re clouding my brain with your perfectness, and I’m getting bombarded with — memories, and I can’t decipher what is here and now, and what was then. Just stop. It’s so much. And I can’t…it’s like I can’t breathe.”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” you scoff. Standing up to pull your skirt down. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“Andy, you’re making this much more serious than I’m ready to make it right now. I’m learning to grow and move forward. But…I need some space to not allow him to seep through,” those were the wrong words. But Andy doesn’t get angry, he looks hurt.

“When — who did you see just now? Me or him? Are you envisioning having sex with my baby brother when I’m the one that’s fucking you?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? I’m giving you every bit of me. Every bit that I didn’t give Laurie. I never loved her like I do you. I didn’t even want kids with her because they were never going to be yours. And then you tell me that while I have fantasies of you swollen with our first child, and your rings shining in the light that you saw Jake. How do you think that makes me feel? All I have on my mind is you, and…our future.”

Your anger softens a bit as you stare up into his eyes. Trying to figure out what to say, but you can’t think of anything. You shouldn’t have visions of Jake when you had this man inside of you. He has changed his life and wants you to be part of it. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

“I want you to not do it again. It’s like what you feel for me is nothing compared to what I feel for you,” he’s right. And you’re ashamed of yourself. And scared. So so scared. A knock on the door makes you flinch.

“You…finished?” Oh god. It’s Bucky, and you get so embarrassed. Cheeks heating up as you feel Andy trickling out of you. You cover your face with your hands as you wonder how much Bucky heard.

“Yeah,” you call to him, and turn back to Andy, pressing a hand over his heart. “Andy, I’m sorry.”

“Can you not sleep with him then?”

“I don’t,” that’s an odd request. Currently you’ve only had sex with two people, and the second was right in front of you.

“You fall asleep with him. Just for me. Can you just sleep on your own? If you want someone to sleep with I can stay there. I just think…”

“You’re right,” you respond quickly. Wanting to change the subject, and get out of here. The air and tension is too thick, and you feel like you’re drowning. You can’t even get your thoughts working because of it. “I will sleep on my own,” you would try to.

“I’ll walk you out to the car,” his hand presses on the small of your back, and he walks you into the foyer. Smirking and nodding to Bucky. Your roommate looks more at you than at Andy. Silvery blue eyes raking over your features. How long had he even been outside of Andy’s office? “Make sure you take care of my girlfriend, Barnes. Songbird, I look forward to your texts later tonight,” he gives you a wink as he opens the door to the truck, and even buckles you in.

“I’ll miss you,” he says, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple as Bucky gets into the driver seat.

“Miss you, too,” you respond. Waiting for him to close the door, and your vision goes blurry. Staring out the window blankly when Bucky begins a slow roll to the highway. What just happened? And how did you feel? And why were there always questions?

”Does he follow you in the bathroom, too?” You try to replay the last thirty minutes in your head, still unable to focus on anything. “Peach? You okay?” Andy is much more intense than Jake. Did you even see the thermometer this morning? Andy had always checked before you had fully awakened. What did it read? Did he even tell you?

“You guys got into an argument?”

“Disagreement,” you answer quickly. Too many thoughts in your head. Too many. You weren’t ready. “Is there a drugstore that sells the morning after pill?”

“Did he make you do something you didn’t want to do?” Did he? What a strange question. You remember what you whispered, but was that for JJ’s ghost? Why were you still hanging on to the past? It had been a year, but you were told grief is different for everyone. “Peach?”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, unable to go to that place. “I just want to be careful. Are there side effects? Will Andy know?”

“You’re scaring me.”

You were scaring yourself. But one thing was for sure, you weren’t ready. “Will he know if I took something?” Your heart is racing as you realize what happened. You weren’t ready to think about kids with anyone but Jake. You feel like Andy was all over you. Like he was leaking out onto the truck seat. “Pull over. Bucky, I’m going to throw up.”

Looking into his mirrors, he pulls the truck over, and you jump out. Hurling your lunch onto the side of the road, and the tears don’t stop. You are so scared. Why? Why is fear the only thing that is oozing throughout your body? It’s all you feel right now. He’d leave you if he found out. Did Jake leave you because you couldn’t have his kids? Why couldn’t you at least have had a part of him with you.

Standing up you look at the sky, screaming out everything inside of you before Bucky pulls you into his arms. He didn’t expect anything in return. He is just there to offer any comfort as the tears block you from seeing anything. “I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. What do you need me to do?”

“I need the morning after pill, but will he know?” With mascara stained cheeks you look up at Bucky hoping for a miracle. Needing a specific answer, and no more questions. The questions had your thoughts racing too fast to sort through. Like driving in the snow and each snowflake is your thoughts. They were coming at you at such a rapid speed you missed things.

“No, he won’t. Come on, order us a pizza, and we’ll get ice cream, too,” you can tell he wants to prod, but thinks better of it, and you’ll be forever grateful to him. You want to take the hottest shower, and remove the traces of Andy. You didn’t hate him, but the feeling of him still there is making you queasy.

“Can we DoorDash it while I shower?” You don’t have to say more, but Bucky understands. Nodding his head is his only answer, and he leads you back to the truck. Clenching his jaw as he wonders just exactly what transpired behind that door. He’s gathered enough. And what he really wants to do is pound in Andy’s face. He cracks his neck trying to make the thoughts go away. They weren’t good for his recovery.

But right now Bucky wants to hit everything. He wants to make someone pay for the mess they made you. And that someone is him. Andy Barber. He’s now become more than an irritation. He’s become an enemy.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @agirlneedsgoals @sgtjaamesbaarnes @cjand10 @rebekahdawkins @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @rainydayprincess @shortstuff16 @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @whimsyplaty92

#just like the caged bird #caged bird #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fanfics #andy barber fic #andy barber fics #defending jacob #chris evans #chris evans character

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magicshopaholic · 1 year

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Unfinished Business (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: You hate leaving things unfinished - something Jungkook knows a thing or two about.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff, angst (but not the kind you think)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5.4 K

Warnings: language, tattoos and needles, a lot of ambiguity

A/N: Writing for the OG couple after a long while. Highly recommended reading (or re-reading) The Fifth Part 1 and 2, or at least Part 2 for sure. Contains a lot of references to the past. Takes place post-military enlistment, a few months after Honey.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "suspicious minds" by elvis presley

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

It’s only seven am, but Lia’s focus has already been stolen.

Clutching a cup of hot coffee and dressed in nothing but Jungkook’s t-shirt, she leans against the kitchen doorway of his new apartment, pensively surveying the last remaining boxes that need to be unpacked. They aren’t too big; all the major work was done yesterday, including unwrapping, decorating and cleaning up. The three cartons left in the corner of the living room, one of them marked Fragile, can’t take too much time or effort.

But Lia can’t handle things left unfinished.

Draining her cup, she places it on the kitchen mantle and retrieves a pair of scissors, getting to work. The first box is living room utilities; a key holder, fridge magnets, a few chargers. She moves them all to their correct locations, trying to make as little noise as possible so as to not wake Jungkook.

A lot of the heavy lifting yesterday had been done by him; even though he’d seemed to enjoy it, he’d been exhausted by the end of the night. As determined as he’d still been, by the end Lia could tell his energy was declining, especially as his hints to get her to move in with him began becoming less and less subtle.

She’s rummaging through the second box, filled mostly with other knick knacks, when Jungkook emerges from the bedroom, squinting sleepily and pulling on a t-shirt.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice thick with sleep. He clears his throat.

“It’s no problem,” she replies absently, glancing up at him. “There’s coffee in the machine.”

The sound of his feet padding into the kitchen fades away slightly as she continues unpacking. The second box has only the dregs of a bachelor’s past in it, including a remote that seems to belong to nothing and a half-empty box of condoms. Deciding to let Jungkook deal with it, she reaches for the last box just as he joins her on the floor.

“Okay, I don’t know where to place these,” she tells him, gesturing to the carefully bubble-wrapped photo frames. “I mean, I can try, but -” She scans the entertainment unit around the television, noting space for at least eight or ten frames. “This seems like something you should decide.”

“You can, too,” he offers, picking out a frame and unwrapping it. “Half the pictures are of you,” he points out, flashing her a toothy grin.

“They’re with me, not of me,” she corrects him, even as she takes the frame from him and admires the picture. It’s of them seated on the edge of a go-kart, in racing overalls and with breathless grins. “This was a fun day.”

“Yeah. The cars were faster than I expected.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment before placing the picture down and tilting his head towards the box. “How many are there in total? I’m not even sure all of them will fit.”

“Sure they will.” Lia drags the box closer and they begin unwrapping the pictures one by one, the memories making them chuckle occasionally. Despite the fact that a large number of them don’t include her, it’s strangely endearing to view glimpses of Jungkook’s youth, his friends and his success.

“This one should go right in the middle,” he decides, holding up a framed picture of the day he’d taken Lia home to meet his parents for the first time. Jungkook had dragged her to the centre of the group, his parents on either side of them, and his brother behind them right after he’d set the timer on the camera.

“It’s cute,” she agrees, “but shouldn’t you put this one up there, too?” she asks, holding up a picture of him with his group members. “Wasn’t this your first award?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“There’s probably space for both.”

“What about this one, though? This was in Wembley…”

They continue debating between what must be at least fifteen frames, eventually standing up to start arranging them on the shelf.

“Wait, you want to do them all now?” he asks a bit incredulously, eyes wide.

“It’s not that many, Kook,” she tells him, patting his shoulder encouragingly. “We’ve unpacked everything else - do you really want just one box to lie around in the living room?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really.”

“Let me say that differently: I don’t mind.”

Lia struggles to suppress a smile at his cheeky response and picks up another handful of frames from the box, moving to the shelf. “You got me. I don’t like loose ends. Now can we do this? Come on, you’ve always said you wanted one of these in your living room,” she reminds him. “You finally have it.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but joins her, for she’s not wrong, and picks up a picture of himself and Namjoon at the United Nations. “Okay, let’s see…” Filled with concentration, he scours the shelf and finally picks a spot near the top. “There,” he says, carefully placing it at an angle and turning around with a flourish. “Okay, what’s next?”

She chuckles and hands him a picture of BTS on stage, and they get back to work. Eight more carefully arranged pictures later, both of them stand back to admire their handiwork.

Lia nudges his side gently. “It looks good, don’t you think?”

“It does… but I’d imagined a lot more pictures, to be honest.” He looks down at her inquiringly. “We have more, right?”

“At least ten,” she assures him. “Any particular events you want to put up? People or birthdays or anything…?” She rummages through the box and retrieves a few more frames, moving to arrange them on the sofa so they can both look at them.

“This one for sure,” says Jungkook after a moment, pointing at a picture of himself and a couple of his band members. “It was after Coachella - such a fun night. This one, with you in Incheon,” he adds, like it’s obvious. “This one, backstage.”

“Was it a special concert?”

“No, but I think I look good in it,” he admits sheepishly. “Or is that too conceited? You know what, forget I said -”

“I agree, completely,” she interrupts him seriously, swiping the picture up from under his nose and placing it next to a frame of Jungkook with Seokjin. She pauses at the sight of her boyfriend in the first one, looking dapper in a suit at the engagement party she’d attended as his date. In the second, Jungkook’s hair is thick and lush, falling onto his forehead with ease, his face shiny and alight with post-concert adrenaline. “Looks good, no?”

Jungkook grins. “If you insist. What about those?”

Lia takes stock of the remaining. “This one is nice… oh, this one is, too - but it might become repetitive… why do you have so many pictures with Namjoon? Okay, wait - this one, for sure. Oh - and this group picture.” She hands half of them to Jungkook and starts arranging the rest.

“Perfect.”

At his proclamation, both of them step back again to survey their progress. “Looks great, babe. We can get rid of the box and finally clear -” She breaks off when she sees a few frames still in the box. “Wait, what about these?”

“No more space.”

Lia frowns. “Huh,” she utters softly, tucking her hair behind her ears and reaching for the pictures. One is of Jungkook and Bang PD, but there’s already another one of them on the shelf, so she lets it go. The second is a slightly unfocused one of him at dinner with a few friends, while the third is the group picture she’d handed to him a couple of minutes ago.

She holds it up to show him. “You’re not putting this up?”

“What?” He glances at the picture and shakes his head. “No… it’s really crowded and you can’t see anyone in it. Besides, it’s not even a special event,” he adds.

She looks back down at it. It’s clearly taken at someone’s house - and at a party, judging by the attire. There are definitely a lot of people, but crowded might be a bit of an overstatement. There are about ten or twelve people at most, some sitting on a sofa and the rest standing behind it, almost everyone clutching glasses with varying levels of drink and smiling into the camera.

Even through the motionless image, the air of mild intoxication and friendship and fun is palpable. Almost all the members of BTS are in the picture, but the rest are a mixture of unfamiliar boys and girls, most of whom Lia doesn’t think she’s ever met. Jungkook is towards the side of the sofa, looking younger than she’s ever known him, with his friend Mingyu on one side and a girl on the other, perched on the arm of the couch.

Lia’s gaze lingers on Jungkook; this picture is pre-military, clearly, before the group went on hiatus to enlist. His eyes are shining, his hair thick and long, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. She spots various members of BTS; Jimin’s infectious smile, Namjoon’s dimple, Taehyung’s arrogantly handsome expression. All the other pictures with the group members on the shelf are at events - tours, shoots, engagements, the White House. This one is the most candid - the only candid one.

She bites her lip; she knows reuniting for a comeback wasn’t the cakewalk Jungkook tried to pass it off as. From the snippets she’s picked up from him and the way her marketing team at Hybe has been working on it since before she and Jungkook even met, it’s been clear that the members have been approaching it with different states of mind - and it’s no surprise that Jungkook might be struggling with it the most.

She watches him saunter into the kitchen and duck behind the fridge door. She’d never wanted to push him, especially about a part of his life she didn’t really know, but maybe that wasn’t the right way to go about it.

“Maybe we can fit it next to the one of you and Namjoon at the UN,” she suggests. “There’s space there. Or we can replace the one of you and your boxing instructor?”

“I like that one,” replies Jungkook without looking up, now busy assembling breakfast. “Do you want ham?”

“Sure, thanks,” she says absently. Glancing down at the picture again, she shakes her head slightly. It looks like a still from a movie. “It’s a really nice picture, Kook.”

“They’re all nice pictures, but something or the other would get cut,” he says reasonably. “These three are the least nice ones, I guess.”

“It was nice enough to get framed,” she points out. She knows she’s being persistent but it’s most unlike Jungkook to deliberately exclude a picture with his friends, especially the members of BTS. “Even the colour palette would look great with the rest. I think you should consider it.”

Jungkook sucks a bit of sauce off the tip of his finger. “It’s my shelf,” he says simply.

There’s a line, a line beyond which she’s sure her sweet and patient boyfriend can snap. Lia doesn’t think she’s there yet but a part of her is curious to see how far she can take this - and how concerning the situation is.

“Jungkook,” she begins, her tone gentler than before, “is something wrong? Because I thought everything was starting to go back to normal.”

He pauses before sighing softly. “You’re right,” he says finally, looking up but not quite meeting her eyes. “Everything’s okay now. You should put up that picture.” He gives her a small smile and goes back to the sandwiches.

Lia obliges, but something continues nagging at her. Jungkook is an open book, but this topic feels so out of reach to her that she can’t even begin to know where to start. As their comeback rehearsals and studio sessions have increased in frequency, he’s started to reach home later and later, looking more relieved and happy each time. She wonders if it’s still not enough for him, if something has changed so irreversibly that things aren’t bad - they’re just different.

But there are other things to do today.

“This might be the coolest thing we’ve done together,” says Jungkook excitedly. He slows the car, searching for a parking spot. When Lia doesn’t answer, he frowns. “You don’t agree?”

She winces. “I don’t think it’s the coolest.”

“Can you name a cooler thing we’ve done?”

“I can name, like, twenty.”

Jungkook huffs. “Do you really not want to do this?” he whines, his shoulders slumping.

“Of course, I do,” she answers immediately, squeezing his arm, her fingers pale against his dark tattoo sleeve. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s really not a big deal, we don’t have to -”

“I know that, Kook,” she interrupts him patiently. “I want to, I promise. I mean, it was kind of my idea,” she adds.

“What?” He glances at her incredulously. “I suggested couple tattoos, like, one month after we started dating.”

“Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best strategy,” she mutters wryly. “But, I meant, the design of the tattoos was my idea.”

“That’s true,” he allows. “And it’s a nice design. Very…” He breathes in dramatically. “Very us. Our core. A lot of history there,” he points out, grinning.

“And the least cheesy design I could think of.” She pinches his cheek as he slides into a parking spot, unable to resist. “Also one where if we break up, mine won’t look strange.”

“Wow, way to ruin it, Lee-lee,” he mutters, scowling as he switches off the car. “That’s it - we’re switching. I’m getting the basketball, you’re getting the basket.”

“What? Absolutely not,” argues Lia as she climbs out of the car. “I’m the one who came up with it; I’m getting the ball.”

“No, now I don’t want the basket. Why can’t you get it?”

“Because it’ll make no sense, an empty basket,” she points out, walking alongside him. “You have enough tattoos that it won’t stand out. Oh, and also - I actually play basketball?”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“That’s tough, Jeon,” she says shortly, patting him on the shoulder as they climb the stairs to the entrance of the tattoo parlour. “But we’ve already got the sketch and placement and everything done, and we’re sticking to the plan.”

“God, you’re bossy.”

“And you’re bratty,” she retorts, squeezing his shoulders and kissing his left one. “But I love you anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook grins as they enter the reception, trailing slightly behind her. The low hum of the air conditioner takes over from the traffic outside as he follows Lia to the desk, keeping barely an inch of distance between their bodies and leaning over her shoulder. “You mean that?”

“Sure.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he mutters, pulling out his wallet for his ID and placing it next to hers, flashing a smile at the receptionist. “Fine, I’ll get the basket.”

He pinches her waist gently and she gasps in surprise, swatting his hand away. “Good. Because we’ve pushed this appointment enough times and I just want it to be done. I hate that it’s just unfinished and incomplete and just hanging there, waiting for us to get on with it.”

“Huh.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “What if the artist isn’t available today?”

“Then I will physically pick up the tattoo gun and draw the tattoos on us.”

“You’d really draw a tattoo on me? You? I mean, I love you,” he quickly backtracks, “but… you?”

“Exactly,” she says as they walk inside together. “So you better hope he’s in today or you’re going to end up having my artwork on your skin forever.”

“Point taken.”

Fortunately for them, not only is the artist available, but he’s prepped and ready to go. Two reclining chairs have been placed next to each other, the tattoo guns are plugged in and kept on the table, sterilised needles still in the packets, and a tray with small bottles of water.

“Ah, my favourite customer is here,” he greets, his lined face lighting up when he sees Jungkook. “And my second favourite customer by association,” he says to Lia, chortling at his own joke as they bow slightly to each other.

“Thank you for making the time,” she says, while Jungkook genially hugs him.

“Of course, of course. Ah, this is Eunbi,” he remembers, turning slightly and gesturing to a young woman who steps out of the staff room, “my apprentice.”

Eunbi gives them a small smile, smoothing her short blond hair self-consciously. The roots have begun to darken but it gives her a nice, rustic look.

They get settled after that, Lia and Jungkook on one chair each, while Eunbi and her boss take their seats on revolving stools, sketch pens in hand and tattoo guns on standby.

“It’s a really cute idea,” says Eunbi, carefully drawing the basketball on the inside of Lia’s wrist. “Jungkook oppa, you’re getting the basket?”

“That’s right.” He takes Lia’s free right hand from beside him and squeezes it. “I’m taking one for the team,” he says dramatically.

She rolls her eyes but squeezes his hand back anyway. “You’re the one who wanted couple tattoos. If anything, I’m taking one for the team.”

“Same difference.”

“Why basketball?” The tattoo artist, who Lia realises has yet to mention his name, peers at them from above his dark glasses. “Is it some new meme I’m not aware of?”

“Oh, no, it’s not a meme,” says Jungkook quickly. “We met while playing basketball.”

Eunbi looks up. “Really?”

“Playing is a bit of an overstatement,” says Lia.

“I didn’t know you played basketball,” says the tattoo artist skeptically to Jungkook. “Are you any good?”

“I’m getting better,” he mumbles, while Lia snorts.

“It’s true, he is,” she adds, grinning at Jungkook’s increasingly annoyed expression. “The first time was… not great. But he’s been practising since then.”

“Good on you, kid. You know, I used to play basketball in high school.”

“Really?” Jungkook turns to him excitedly. “Which position? Do you follow the NBA? I’ve started recently…”

Lia bites her lip as she watches him prattle on about his favourite team, about the last match he’d watched. It was one of the most endearing things he’d done: diving into her favourite sport with interest, learning the rules, watching the matches and following the players on social media.

She squeezes his hand absently, also glad that his strange mood from earlier seems to have disappeared. He’s cheery as ever, all the way from flirting his way into her shower, to proclaiming how he was willing to get the basket tattooed to prove how, much like the basketball filled the basket, she filled him with happiness.

Then she’d groaned and cringed while he’d laughed his arse off, turning the volume up in the car and singing along angelically to whatever song was playing.

“Lia.” Jungkook tugs at her hand. “You want to take this one?”

“Huh?” She turns apologetically to Eunbi. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“Oh, I - I asked how you two met.”

“Oh.” Lia glances at Jungkook, pursing her lips in amusement. “I think you should probably take this, no?”

He shakes his head and mock-glares at her. “Uh, okay. Well, long story short: we went on a date, I was a bit of a douche, but she decided to give me a second chance anyway.” Despite the humour of the situation, the relief in his voice is audible.

Heart warm, she nods. “He worked pretty damn hard for it.”

Jungkook nods. “Basketballs to the face notwithstanding.”

“Aw, that’s cute. And so are the tattoos,” adds Eunbi. “I wish my boyfriend would agree to one - but he’s terrified of needles.”

“I was terrified of basketballs for a good week there,” notes Jungkook. “But you’ve got to face your fears to overcome them,” he says wisely.

“You’re right. I wish he’d been a douche on our first date,” she jokes, “then I could’ve asked him to get a tattoo for me.”

“He’d have to be a really big douche for that,” says the tattoo artist, before lightly smacking Jungkook on the shoulder and ignoring his gasp. “And why were you a douche, huh?”

“I wasn’t - I didn’t -“

“His friend set him up and he was in a bad mood,” supplies Lia, reaching over and pinching her boyfriend’s cheek as he scowls.

“A really bad mood,” he clarifies. “Because he kept texting during dinner and asking for updates - I could’ve hit him, I swear.”

The tattoo artist responds reproachfully to Jungkook, but Lia barely hears it, for it brings back another memory she doesn’t dwell on too often.

She likes video games.

It’s the only aspect of their history she would rather ignore. Everything else - his apology, his attempts at getting to know her better, riding home on his motorbike in the rain, basketball with Dal - makes her reminisce with fondness, more often than not leading to an increased amount of affection for her boyfriend for the rest of the day. This one part of it, though? Not ideal.

She feels Jungkook clutch her hand tighter then, and she realises his tattoo has begun, the hum of the gun cutting through her thoughts. She squeezes his hand back automatically, endeared and exasperated at his wincing despite hundreds of tattoos, and pushes the unwanted detail of their history aside.

“I love it,” he says later, once they’re almost back at his house. He peels off the plastic from his shoulder a little bit before hissing.

“Don’t take it off yet, come on,” she tells him, pressing it back into place and stroking the reddened area. “It’s still fresh. And it does look great,” she acknowledges, lightly tracing the basket that’s wedged peacefully between two bigger tattoos on his tricep. “Do you think the fans will notice a new tattoo?”

“Doubt it. Or maybe they will,” he says after a moment. “You never know. They won’t be able to tell it’s about you, though,” he assures her.

“I’m sure,” she agrees, observing her own basketball tattoo. It hurt more than she expected but somehow, having Jungkook there doing the same thing helped. She won’t admit it to him without some eye-rolling, but she finds herself happy with their decision to get the tattoos after all.

“Do you want to get lunch?” Jungkook asks, unlocking the door and gently steering her in first.

“I’m good with ramen, honestly,” she says, taking off her shoes and padding through the living room. “Could you get a couple packets from the pantry? I’ll put the water on.”

Jungkook nods and disappears, softly humming a tune. Lia glances at the entertainment unit, his Playstation and neatly stacked DVDs, mildly satisfied that after an entire weekend’s worth of work, his apartment is properly set up.

Her gaze falls on the pictures, scanning Jungkook’s handsome face in each, before landing on the same group picture they’d argued about this morning.

And something falls into place.

“Got it!” When Jungkook returns a few minutes later, arms laden with no less than four packets of ramen, it’s to see Lia standing in the middle of the carpet, one of the photo frames in her hands. Even from here, he can tell exactly which picture it is.

She doesn’t look up at his entrance, and he takes the opportunity to dump the ramen on the kitchen island and slowly approach her.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Lia seems to tear her eyes from the picture to meet his eyes. To his relief, she doesn’t look angry or hurt. She simply looks curious - and confused. “This is - this is her.”

Jungkook bites his lip. “What are you talking about?”

She turns the picture towards him. “The girl you had a crush on. Back then.” She deliberately doesn’t elaborate and for that he is thankful. “This is her,” she says, pointing and tapping her finger on the glass.

It’s barely a question. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah, it is.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, as though she wasn’t expecting him to admit it so quickly. “And this is clearly the boyfriend,” she mutters as she gazes at the frozen faces, seemingly to herself, not being able to tell how his heart jerks. She looks up at his again, frowning. “Is that why you didn’t want to put this picture up? Because she’s in it, too?”

Jungkook sighs, his shoulders slumping. His gaze briefly falls on the picture, on her face, and he immediately looks away. “It didn’t feel right,” he confesses. “It felt like I would be… I don’t know. Disrespecting you.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor. “Especially if… someday, you decide to…” Here, he trails off, unable to find the nerve to finish his sentence.

“But… why?” Lia still just sounds confused. “She was just a friend, right? And you said it was over.”

“She was. And it is.” He shrugs, ignoring the old, dull pang in his chest. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years.”

“Did you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, now wishing he’d just agreed to put the picture up when she’d handed it to him in the morning. This isn’t a topic he ever wanted to surface, and not with her. “When I first told you, you seemed… kind of mad. And then a bit sad.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most important thing to me now. I don’t want to ruin it.”

After a moment, he hears her sigh. He knows this sigh; it’s the same one he’d heard when he’d confessed to her that he didn’t know a lick of basketball, when his meticulously-planned drive-in movie date had gone to shit, when he’d inadvertently revealed that he was afraid she’d think he was too young for her.

“Kook…” She comes up to him, placing the frame on the coffee table on the way. Gently holding his hand, she tilts her head to meet his eyes. “I can’t be mad at you for something that happened before we met. Everyone has a past.”

“Yeah, but I’ve told you about this particular past before,” he reminds her, feeling wretched. “And it didn’t go very well.”

“Well… yeah. It didn’t come up in the best way, I guess,” she murmurs, and he knows she’s remembering their conversation in the Hybe copy room. “But now that we’ve moved past that… I can’t hold you to a crush you had years ago. Especially when it seems like you were friends,” she adds quietly.

Jungkook’s chest starts to feel heavy again. “You just… you sounded kind of mad. I think. Maybe I was imagining it,” he mutters, shrugging tiredly.

“I wasn’t mad… I guess I was a little thrown,” she admits. “I mean, I know you said she had a boyfriend. I just didn’t think it was one of the other members.”

He says nothing. He appreciates her understanding, although he should’ve always expected her to rise above petty jealousy or insecurity. It occurs to him for the hundredth time how lucky he is to have her; how, in the midst of a truly despondent time in his life, she’d been the beacon of light he’d been fortunate enough to stumble upon. He hadn’t looked back since.

But the moment his gaze lands on the picture discarded behind her, his heart creeps up his throat again.

“Is that what it is?” Her voice brings him back. “Do you feel guilty because she was dating your friend?”

For starters. There’s no point, he realises. As mature and understanding as Lia is, Jungkook doesn’t think he can find the words or the courage to relive his regrets, the ones that still catch him unawares when he hears her name in passing, or when he goes to rehearsal and inadvertently locks eyes with his hyung.

“Kind of.”

Lia nods slowly. “It’s okay, Jungkook,” she murmurs, tugging at his hand again. “No one can control how they feel.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to respond to that. He makes a non-committal sound, his gaze flickering to the ground.

“You told me you were over her.”

“And I meant it.”

She squeezes his hand. “Good.”

He wills the heaviness in his chest to go away, and forces a small smile onto his face. “Sorry.”

She returns it, holding his gaze before reaching up and pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “We don’t have to put it up,” she reminds him.

But Jungkook shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It is a nice picture,” he allows, picking it up. “And it was a long time ago.”

Apparently satisfied, Lia smiles back radiantly. “And you look very hot in it.”

“If only you’d known me then.”

“You would’ve learnt to play basketball a lot sooner,” she agrees, chuckling.

“So you forgive me?” he asks after a moment.

Lia’s smile fades slightly. “For having a crush?” she asks, reaching up and touches his forehead with hers. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Not even to your friend,” she adds. “I mean, nothing happened, right?”

She’s beautiful. A beacon of light in a period of darkness he couldn’t see beyond. She saved him, more than she would know.

Jungkook brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. “No,” he lies.

After lunch, Jungkook volunteers to clean up the living room and kitchen while Lia goes to do the laundry. Collecting their clothes from his bedroom, she chucks them in the washing machine, loading it with detergent and softener and turning it on.

She stops by the pantry on her way back, looking for a chocolate bar or any other candy, something to officially clear the air with Jungkook. She searches along the shelves, passing by ramen, boxes of Caffetta coffee, and a lot of protein powder - only to come to the conclusion that his house is hopelessly understocked with sugar.

“We can get low fat,” she murmurs to herself, preempting his response as she makes her way back to the living room. She stops abruptly at the doorway when she spots him, his back tilted towards her, framed picture in hand.

Lia’s heartbeat feels louder for a moment. She takes a quick step back behind the doorway; it’s unnecessary, though, for his focus is on something else entirely.

She ought to have seen it before. It wasn’t until they returned to Jungkook’s apartment that she even noticed the most important detail in the picture. Mingyu sat to Jungkook’s right while a girl sat to his left, perched on the arm of the sofa. One hand hung loosely around Jungkook’s shoulder, so casually, so harmlessly, that Lia hadn’t even registered it this morning.

On her other side was her boyfriend, clearly. The way she leaned into him, the way his arm rested confidently on her waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin between her light blue jeans and striped crop top, the way their bodies fit perfectly - it looked like they’d known each other forever. There was no doubt as to who he was, especially since he was someone Lia had definitely met.

In light of how intensely close the couple looked, the girl’s hand around Jungkook’s shoulder seemed unimportant. It was almost like a habit, or convenience, her dark nail paint and the small cigarette stub between her fingers looking like they belonged there.

It’s her, isn’t it? There was no one else in the picture it could be, not any of the other handful of girls in the same frame. It’s her; the one who likes video games, the one with a boyfriend - the boyfriend who Lia now knows is one of Jungkook’s best friends, a big brother he loves.

She bites her lip, continuing to watch him until his shoulders relax slightly and he places the photograph back on the shelf. He gathers the empty bowls on the centre table and heads towards the kitchen, and Lia feels the seed of uneasiness sink in her stomach.

She can believe he’s over her. She can believe it’s in the past, that Jungkook is with her in the present.

Whatever it is, though - it’s definitely not finished.

—

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#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanbathhouse #k-vanity #wkcnet #bangtanoasis #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook angst

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luvkun4 · 2 years

Text

12:45 AM ꔛ K. Nanami

ꕤ summary: "Hearing his name roll off your tongue so effortlessly always did him in, even if you had said it innocently."

ꕤ warnings: fem!reader, modern au, smut, established relationship, slight dom/sub dynamics, sub!reader, dom!Nanami, some dirty talk, dialogue heavy, slight degradation, daddy kink, clit play, some nipple play, fingering (f), finger sucking, choking, cum eating, not proofread

ꕤ word count: 1.9k

. . . requested by anon on my old blog!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, MINORS DNI!

Nanami had come home late today, presumably because he had gotten caught up at work. You could tell by the look on his face that he was tired, noticing how lazily he plopped down on the armchair in the living room. You take it upon yourself to pour him a drink, figuring he could use it.

“Rough day?” you ask, handing him a glass of his favorite whiskey as he loosens his tie.

He simply nods, sighing out an exhausted “yes” before mumbling a thank you and sipping his liquor. Just as he sets the glass back down on the cup holder, you sit on his lap, resting your back flush against his chest. His hands immediately find your waist, and he places a little kiss right under your jaw.

“How was your day, darling?”

You set your hands on top of his, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, “It was okay. I missed you.”

He smiles softly to himself, kissing your neck tenderly, “I missed you too, love.”

You both fall silent, listening to the subtle sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace. It wasn’t often the two of you got time like this together. He’d always make it up to you, though. Taking you out for breakfast on the weekends, or staying up later than he’d like to on weekdays just so you could get some quality time in.

Kind of like now — you, sitting in his lap with his hands dragging up and down your thighs. His lips litter kisses along the side of your neck, hands occasionally squeezing your hips. You utter a sigh, feeling your entire body relax on top of him.

“Feels good Ken~” you whisper, shutting your eyes.

The man inhales sharply, slipping his fingers under your shirt. Something about the tone of your voice triggered something in him. Your words had pure intent, though Nanami misinterpreted them. Perhaps it was because he was tired, his exhaustion causing him not to think straight. Whatever it was, it got his mind racing. Hearing his name roll off your tongue so effortlessly always did him in, even if you had said it innocently.

“My name sounds so pretty coming out of your mouth.” he coos, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on your skin.

You shift above him, “Want me to say it again?” You giggle, knowing he’d start getting worked up with no effort.

He hums, starting to rub at your sides from under your shirt while he leaves a little bruise at the slope of your neck. A soft, and whiny “Nanami” escapes you, and you arch your back ever so slightly. He groans against you, tightening his hold on your body. You knew what you were doing. Hearing you speak in such a tone always made him antsy, and he hated admitting it. Actions speak much louder than words, however, and his reactions were exactly what you were hoping for.

“Teasing me on purpose, hm?”

Nanami’s lips lock onto your jaw, his large hands trailing down your hips and onto your legs. The shorts you wear give him full access to your thighs, his palms caressing your skin gently enough to give you goosebumps. His voice manages to drop another octave, his words a whisper in your ear.

“Don’t act so entitled, dear. You know how easily you succumb to me.”

You hum, grinning softly when his lips make contact with your cheek. He saw through your act immediately, and he couldn’t have been more right about you. It didn’t matter what he did, you’d always submit to him as if it were second nature to. He soon has you distracted from your thoughts again, kissing your neck and groping your thighs.

“Say my name again.” he mutters in your ear, bringing a hand between your legs.

You take it upon yourself to drape your legs over his, giving him better access to touch you how he pleased. His fingers brush against your sex through your shorts, and just as he asked, his name leaves your mouth once more. Quietly, he praises you, nibbling on your neck to leave behind another mark.

Nanami’s fingers drag up and down with a bit more pressure than before. You sigh, pleased, and buck your hips forward. He stops momentarily to slip his hand into your pj bottoms, rubbing you through your panties instead.

“There’s some other things you call me, yeah?” he asks rhetorically, “Wanna remind me what they are?”

His fingers skillfully work at your sex, leisurely playing with your clothed pussy and making you whine.

“Daddy~” you utter, arching your back.

Nanami pauses, smirking, “That’s a new one.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment, a cold chill running up your spine from the humiliation of your slip up. Nanami didn’t seem to mind though, sucking on a spot at the slope of your neck. You can’t repress your whimpers, finding yourself lost in the trance that is his touch. He was growing needy as well — hearing your sweet voice say his name, to then hear you purr out a name you’ve never called him before — poor man’s pants were getting tight.

“I-I didn’t mean to say that,” you think out loud.

“Calling me daddy by ‘mistake,’ huh?”

His fingers slip past the elastic of your panties, his palm cupping your bare pussy. You buck your hips up, rutting against the heel of his hand and whining at the pleasurable friction.

“Sounded so sweet coming from you,” he admits, “Say it again for me.”

You chew your lip, holding back a moan while he starts to circle your clit. Nanami nibbles your ear, groaning when he feels how wet you had gotten.

“C’mon pretty girl,” he encourages, “You were so vocal before, what happened?”

Your back arches, another soft whimper escaping you. The humiliation that came over you from what you had said was preventing you from saying it again. Nanami could tell you were resisting, though, and was determined to provoke you.

His fingers run up and down your slick folds with a tantalizing pace that makes you squirm.

“This wet already, princess?” he inquires, “Do daddy’s fingers feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, though it comes out more whiny than you would’ve liked.

Nanami’s free hand slides under your shirt and up your stomach, groping one of your breasts. The pads of his fingers toy with your stiff nipple, suddenly pinching it and eliciting a squeak out of you.

“Use your words, princess,” he commands, palming at your flesh to ease whatever pain he might’ve caused.

“Are you feeling good?” he asks again, agonizingly pushing a finger into your weeping cunt.

“Y-yes daddy,” you breathe, shivering on top of him.

He grins, licking a stripe up the slope of your neck to suckle the skin beneath your jaw. You tighten around the finger he has lodged inside you, moaning when he finally starts to move it in and out. Your head falls onto his shoulder, your body completely submitting to him without any convincing.

Nanami’s lips stay locked on your neck, leaving behind bruises that would definitely need to be covered if you wanted to avoid questioning from co-workers. Both his hands are busy, one between your thighs and the other under your shirt. He rolls your hard nipple between his fingers, pumping the digit inside your pussy just slow enough to make you restless.

“Kento,” you murmur, “Wan’ more.”

He pulls his finger out, running two along the length of your pussy to coat it in your essence.

“That’s not how you ask, sweetheart.”

He didn’t have to tell you what he wanted for you to catch on — it seemed he was amused by your slip up from earlier and was getting off on hearing you say it. It turned you on to know he liked it, that, being the reason it was becoming easier to repeat yourself despite your prior reluctance.

“Please daddy…” you whisper, holding his wrist in an attempt to guide him, “Please keep touching me.”

“Touch you how?” he questions, a devious smirk on his face, “Tell me exactly what you want.”

The tip of his finger prods at your cunt, pushing past your little slit and making you moan.

“A-ah, finger me, daddy,” your back arches, your hand tightly gripping his arm, “Pretty please.”

“Mm good girl.”

Nanami pushes a second finger inside you, curling them both just to make you gasp. His free hand moves from under your shirt to your lips, and he sticks three fingers into your mouth without persuasion. You gag softly around them, a muffled moan following the noise in response to the way he was pleasuring you. You could feel his bulge pressing against your lower back, squirming at the thought of freeing him from his slacks

“Such a naughty girl,” he hisses, “Calling me daddy and making me hard.”

He ruts up against your back just so you could feel him, and his thick digits start to glide in and out of your pussy with ease, your arousal spilling from you like water. He groans in your ear about how wet you were, pumping his fingers harder to make the squelching sound of your cunt louder.

“You hear that?” he asks rhetorically, “Slutty little pussy’s talking to me, she’s so needy.”

Your hips buck forward and you whine, drooling on the fingers that sit in your mouth. Nanami keeps both your mouth and your cunt stuffed, pushing his fingers in and out of both holes. All your moans are stifled as you choke on his fingers, spit trickling down your chin and making your face a mess.

He pulls them out just long enough to let you catch your breath, before forcing them back in so you cough. His big hand stays working on your pussy, stretching open your tight hole and making it nearly impossible for you to sit still.

“Getting so tight for me,” he observes, fingering you a little faster, “Gonna cum pretty girl?”

You nod fervently, unable to speak from him keeping you quiet.

“Let me hear you then,” he says, taking his fingers out of your mouth to wrap his hand around your throat instead.

You take in a sharp breath, moaning louder than you anticipated when you exhale. You whimper like an animal in heat, rutting against his palm to feel his fingers deeper inside you. You could feel your stomach coiling, that familiar knot becoming apparent. The hand he has around your throat squeezes it lightly, resulting in another yelp out of you.

“M’gonna cum daddy, p-please,” you beg, convulsing around him uncontrollably. “Please keep going, please.”

“C’mon,” he provokes, twisting and curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot, “Cream all over daddy’s fingers.”

Your entire body trembles on top of him, a flash of white coming over you when your orgasm hits. It rips through you like a shock of electricity, blurring your vision as your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand which held your neck finally lets go, his arm coming around your waist to hold you close to him as you release around his fingers. Nanami litters kisses on your skin, quietly praising you while you come down from your high.

“So good for me,” he expresses, pulling out his fingers to rub your puffy clit.

The action makes you quiver, but he’s soon removing his hand from your panties and bringing his drenched fingers to his lips. He licks and sucks them clean, moaning around his own digits at the sweet taste of your pussy. You sit on his lap, worn, and honestly surprised by how hard you came and how quickly he got it to happen.

Nanami grabs your jaw and turns your head towards him, tenderly kissing your lips.

“You’ve still got something to take care of, darling,” he reminds you, thrusting his hips up to create friction against his bulge, “You think your pussy’s ready?”

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#[📩] requests #[ one shots ]#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader

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