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euphorajeon · 5 months

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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

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kissforyouu · 5 months

Text

YAWN

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of sex

request : Sleepy Drabble of Sanrio! Oc and JK!!!! PLEASE🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

"hmm? you're so needy when you're sleepy." jungkook hums, caressing the heel of your foot. you had your body laying horizontally on your bed, legs thrown over jungkook's torso while he massaged your feet through your cozy socks. cozy cinnamonroll socks, they were so cute.

you whine, body lazily turning to the other side and hugging one of your plushies. you yawn in the process with your eyes closed, causing your boyfriend to chuckle a little. but a sharp slap on your asscheek causes you to shriek and open them.

"ow, ow! did it hurt, my baby? want me to kiss it better? yeah?" you just whine in return, but rather in a 'get away from me, you're annoying' way. jungkook clearly gets your little signal, hence why he laughs. your boyfriend pulls you closer to him by grabbing the back of your thigh, then gently rubs your butt while cooing.

"liar. you just wanted to touch my butt."

"what! no wayy. why, hm? i just wanted to soothe your pain, my love." and then he proceeds to grab the hem of your shorts and pull them up, revealing your bare asscheeks. he lets go of the material then, watching the flesh bounce back.

"pervert."

your boyfriend hums, laying his cheek on your ass. "i could fall asleep like this."

"you just like my shorts. so much that you had to jerk off to it— what the fuck jungkook!" jungkook giggles at your little yell, nose buried in between your cheeks. "i'm gonna eat you."

"ew, no, no, no!" you squirm in your spot, wiggling your body while trying to get your man off of you. in the middle of it, you land into a pit of giggles. you were repeatedly slapping jungkook, literally anywhere you could reach. his shoulders, pecs, thighs, abs, face! jungkook was hurting, obviously, your slaps were never gentle. they were always brutal.

"ugh! ow, ow, hurts!" you push your boyfriend on the bed, climbing on top of him. you had a pillow on your hands, ready to punch the shit out of your boyfriend with it but all your plans get flushed down the toilet once jungkook starts tickling your waist. you arch your back, then bend your upper body in every single way. you were naturally so ticklish. ugh.

jungkook : 1 y/n : 0

"noooo! ahahaha! JUNGKOOOOK!" you don't even know how you ended up in this position. role reversal, jungkook was on top of you now and had your head in a headlock with your thighs. you have to opportunity to say the funniest thing right now.

"i'm gonna suck your dick."

jungkook bursts out laughing, then calms himself right away while repeatedly nodding. he begins to take his sweats off, clearly as a joke though. you immediately push him away while screaming ew, face completely melting off. you're joking. you'd suck his dick right now if he seriously told you to.

he just giggles it off, letting you do whatever to him. jungkook was lying opposite to you now, his feet near your face and yours near his.

"yuck, get those stinky feet away from me or i'm gonna make you smell mine." you scrunch your nose.

"yeah? do it." so you do. with all your force, you push your feet onto jungkook's face, giving him a taste of his own medicine. he throws his head back, that high pitched laugh you love filling the room. there's butterflies all over your stomach, your heart's fluttering. his laugh is like honey. it makes you feel like a blooming flower.

suddenly he grabs your feet, giving your heel a little kiss. "i like these nails. french tips. cute." you thank him and press your foot more into his face as a thank you (joke). but your boyfriend decides to loll his tongue out and lick your heel, causing you let out a loud loud screech.

"ack! ew, ew, ew, jungkook! do you have a foot fetish?!"

"hmm, i might." your face drops.

"whattttt? ew."

"heh, i'm joking, baby. but i'd be into anything as long as it's you. i love you." that sounded oddly romantic. you like it.

you smile sweetly, the kind that gets you all giddy and flustered. in that moment, jungkook felt like a 12 year old boy seeing his crush smile for the first time. he felt sooooooooo giddy.

"man i have the fattest crush on you."

"what? i thought you were in love with me?" you raise your eyebrow, throwing one of your plushies at him. he effortlessly catches the kuromi plushie, hugging her closer to his chest and burying his face in it. you scoot closer to him, tugging on his hair and pulling his head back.

"i'm gonna kiss you."

༺♡༻

only god knows for how long you've been kissing by now. you're giving eachother gentle pecks and kisses repeatedly and giggling in between. it was so therapeutic in a way. all you wanted was to claw his heart out and protect it forever. don't know if that was a really intense way to put it though but mmkayy >.< .

jungkook pulls away for a moment to admire your face, hair messy and lip gloss messed up really bad. he wipes away a few strands of your bangs and kisses your forehead gently. stop. you're so giddy. jungkook proceeds to trace your lips while humming in satisfaction. your lips were puffy and glossy from all the kissing, covered in his spit. he pulls on your lower lip, then watches it bounce back with a giggle.

you let out a long sleepy hum, batting your eyelashes as you hugged your boyfriend. your body laying on his chest, inhaling in the sweet scent of his body odor. "hmm?" he hums. you turn your head to the side, cheek resting against his pec as you yawned. "eepy."

jungkook cracks out a laugh once again, "eepy? you're eepy?". you nod your head in verification, snuggling in closer. your hand sneaks under his shirt, touching his hardened abs. jungkook shivers at the feeling of your nails scratching against his skin. you glide your fingers upwards and finally land on his pec (tit) and groping it afterwards. jungkook didn't utter a word about this, just a small snort. he was used to this. he doesn't know why you always resort to holding his tits pecs at the randomest moments.

"mmh, i need you."

"yeah? want me to fuck you?"

you slap his chest, shaking your head in disapproval. "not...," you yawn, "...right now. tomorrow morning you can fuck me really good, mkay?"

"shit, how could you just say that so innocently?" jungkook groans, fingers massaging your scalp gently. you smile sleepy, cooing, body fully relaxed under your boyfriend's touch. "i want to crawl inside your skin. i want to be inside you. i wannttt you. mhm, kook, i love you so much."

jungkook swore he fell in love for the second time again when you said that. your voice was so drownsy and your words came out almost incoherent and inaudible. he just wanted to hold you close to his heart forever and keep you there. to jungkook, you were like a small flower. he's not sure whether he's mentioned this before but, you're like a small little flower who's petals could easily be blown off any moment so he has to protect you and keep you within the range of his sight at all costs so your petals won't get blown off. that's probably an exaggeration tho, hm. he just loved you sooo much.

"i love you more, baby. goodnight."

he kisses the top of your head and gives you more space to get more comfortable on his body. jungkook yawns, stretching both his arms out and then placing his left hand on your back, rubbing up and down. his free hand reaches over to your nightstand to turn down the my melody night lamp you had turned on earlier. he retreats his hand back to your body, placing it on your head, brushing through your hair strands because he knows it soothes you.

he couldn't get enough of you.

taglist : @fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt @kooreo @rrosiitas @goldenjeonkoo @lil-cherry01 @diamondjeon

#jungkook #ask : kmm #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook smut #sanrio girl #sanrio

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 6 months

Text

Lemme Take Care of You | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Your deadbeat baby daddy comes around and you fall for his charms again like you always do. Pairing: Baby Mamma oc x Baby Daddy Jungkook (exes to lovers?) Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Explicit language and sexual themes oral f receiving and hints of body insecurity after having a baby. Newly discovered lactation kink for the both of them idk man lol it kinda just happened a/n: something random I came up with while talking to @kkusadmirer lmao hope you enjoyyyy (Barely edited but that's the usual here lmao) p.s. This is a one shot but I can do drabbles and asks for this couple if you'd like more from them.

"What are you doing here?" I question as a flirty Jungkook leans against my doorway, dragging his eyes up and down my frame. "You didn't answer your phone" he says, bringing his eyes back up to mine.

"I came here to see the baby and maybe spend some time with my baby mama too" he smirks, walking past me and into the living room when I don't say a word, his head on a swivel looking for our daughter.

"She's taking a nap right now" I say, rolling my eyes and shutting the door, leaning my head against it and praying that I'll stay strong this time. "I guess that just means I get to spend time with you then huh?" he says, checking me out again as I walk into the living room.

"We've been over this" I sigh, hating the fact that just the thought of him makes me weak. "We both know you don't mean it" he says, walking up to me and placing a hand on my hip while trailing kisses down my neck.

"Y-yes I do mean it Jungkook we can't keep doing this" I say, trying to keep to my word but slowly losing the battle like I always do. "No, no you don't. Just lemme take care of you yeah? Wanna make you feel good" he says, trailing his nose along my neck making me shudder at the contact.

He leans back and looks down at me, searching for signs of true protest but when he doesn't he leans in slowly still giving me a chance to pull away but I give into him like I always do.

The kiss starts off slow and sweet, gradually putting me under his spell like he always does, making my knees weak which he takes notice of and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking us back to our bedroom, no my bedroom.

He's not supposed to be here anymore but I can never say no to him.

He makes us both tumble down onto the bed and continues to kiss me until I can't breath and even a little after. While I pull away and gasp for breath he continues to trail kisses down my neck, licking, sucking and biting his way down until he's stopped by my shirt.

"Take this off for me yeah?" he asks, nuzzling into my neck and playing with the hem of my shirt, giving me the choice of letting this continue which he knows I will. I sit up and he helps me take it off, having clocked that I wasn't wearing a bra as soon as I opened the door, obsessed with the larger size of my breasts still full of milk.

"Lemme taste it yeah? Just a little bit" he asks, kissing his way down my breasts, begin careful knowing that they're probably sore. I widen my eyes after hearing his request to try my breast milk but I nod my head nonetheless, turned on by the thought of it.

He gently takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, making it nice and wet for him before he gives it a light suck, humming after the taste hits his tongue. "Fuck you taste so sweet" he praises leaving my hips bucking up, begging for some sort of friction.

"My pretty baby mama wants some attention huh?" he taunts, grinding his hips into mine, my cotton shorts rubbing up against me as barely a barrier making me moan at the rougher feeling of his jeans, making me beg for more.

"Please just fuck me the baby's gonna be up soon" I whine when he rubs up against my clit, letting out a dry chuckle remembering my weak defense of trying to deny him just moments before.

"No, just wanna make you feel good" he says, kissing me before trailing his tongue between the valley of my breasts and kissing along my stomach almost as if worshipping the place that once held our baby.

"Jungkook stop" I say, pushing his head down to go lower but he doesn't budge. "No, wanna remind you of how thankful I am that you made our baby. Wanna remind you you did so well taking care of her" he says, kissing all my stretch marks and nipping on places that still had a little baby weight on it.

I lay my head on the pillow, willing myself into thinking this is just sex with him. Nothing more than just wanting the pleasure that I know he can give me. If I let my mind go anywhere else I'm just gonna let him come crawling back to me and I can't let him do that.

He isn't good for me and I know that but when I'm this close to him it's almost as if none of that matters.

He resumes his downward journey and kisses right bellow my belly button and looks up at me, asking for permission to take my shorts off and I grant it to him, watching as he peels it all off of me, taking in my folds glistening with arousal, leaving his eyes lighting up at the sight.

Time and time again no matter how many times he's seen me like this it's almost as if he can't get enough of it. "Fuck, wanna put another baby in this pretty little pussy again" he says, cursing at the thought of it.

I shut my eyes and throw my head back, squirming from the long stripe he's dragged between my folds, taking my clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it just as he had done with my swollen nipple moments before, driving me even more crazy at the feeling.

"Shit" I whine out, so sensitive from it having been a little while since the last time he came and being so drunk on the feeling of his head between my thighs. "Want that too? Wanna have my baby again?" he says, knowing I'm far too gone after him having made out with my cunt, bringing me almost to the edge of it making me agree to anything he might ask.

"Fuck Jungkook yes just keep going" I pant, bucking my hips back into his face leaving him smiling against me and suffocating himself, leading me closer and closer to my climax and soon it's washing over me. Hitting me hard like a ton of bricks and making me cover my mouth to keep as quiet as I can so I don't wake the baby.

Thankfully all I hear on the baby monitor are her soft snores, reminding me so much of her father's that I woke up to every morning.

Jungkook continues to give me soft kitten licks until I'm whining and pushing him away leaving him placing a quick kiss on my inner thigh before hovering over me.

"Open your mouth" he orders and I do just that, sticking out my tongue as he spits in my mouth, followed my him smashing his lips against mine, wanting to share that sweet taste he always praising me for.

After kissing for what feels like forever, slowly going from intense to lazy as the tiredness on my side grows he pulls back to say something but we're cut off by the sound of the baby crying on the monitor.

"I'll go" he says placing one last kiss on my lips, picking my shirt up and wiping the rest of my arousal off his chin before running to the bathroom to clean himself up and throws me a damp towel to clean myself up.

He gives me a sly smile before leaving and heads over to our daughter's room and coos at her.

"Hi princess, it's okay Daddy's here" he says picking up our six month old and rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her and my heart melts at the scene I can see on the monitor.

"You've been a good girl for Mommy right? You gotta take care of her because she loves you very much" he's cut off for a second by her coos back, recognizing him right away. "Hey, no back talk missy I mean it" he jokes along, pretending to be stern with her and she giggles in response.

"I missed you, you know that?" he says peppering her face with kisses and again being met with more giggles. "I wish I could come over more often but living somewhere else makes it hard. I hope you know I do try to come see you as much as I can" he says, adjusting his hold on her and holding her even closer.

"I know you don't know what I'm saying but I love you" he says but pulls her away to look at her again. "Mommy says your gonna be a big sister soon" he says excitedly, just imagining the thought of expanding our family even more but at that my eyes widen thinking back to what just happened and I throw my robe on before rushing into her room.

"You know I didn't mean that" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking a brow at him. "Aw come on, don't you want her to have a sibling?" he pouts, looking back at her before adjusting his hold on her and holding her at arms length as if he were showing her off.

"Don't you want another one that looks just like us?" he asks guilting me into it by making me say no to our daughter which he knows I can't do even if she can't understand right now. "Let's focus on the baby we have now" I say taking her out of his hands as she reaches for me. "That wasn't a no" he says, his eyes lighting up and I'm reminded again by the fact that he's younger than me, always hitting me with that childlike joy he still has.

I turn my back to him and hold her closer to the little mood light I have for her so she can watch the purple and pink swirls on the celling accompanied by so many bright stars and she reaches out almost as if she was trying to touch them.

I feel him snake his arms around my waist and places his head in the crook of my neck so he can look down at her, both of us just admiring the beautiful little girl we made together.

"So do you think we'll give her a baby brother or sister?" he asks placing a kiss on my neck making my breath hitch, taking away the harshness of the answer I was going to give him.

"Keep on pushing your luck and she'll be an only child" I huff and at that she starts fussing probably from needing to have her diaper changed.

"Hey you can't just say that! Look you made her upset" I roll my eyes at his claims and turn around to hand her to him. "You want another baby? Fine, then you change her" I say, crossing my arms, seeing the light dim in his sparkly eyes replaced with the slight disgust after smelling the damage she had done.

"So if I change this diaper then we can have another baby?" he asks, patiently awaiting my answer. "Let's focus on her and go from there" I say and he nods his head, placing her down on the changing table and getting everything he needs out of the drawer bellow it.

"You hear that? You're gonna get a new baby brother or sister" Jungkook coos at her and I slap him upside the head in response leaving her laughing at his reaction.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he whines. "Just focus on the diaper Jeon" I order and he nods his head and I walk out of the room, hearing him mumbling something about how scary I am to her but I decide to let him be this time.

This is what I get for dating a younger guy.

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edytae · 1 month

Text

drunk love

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

summary: “Jerk off for me.”

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, pure filth but Taehyung being the greenest flag, OC is trying to be dom but whiny (as always), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, s*x on all fours, hair pulling, i want what they have.

word count: 17.2K

A/N: Please give it a like or reblog if you like it

————

“Namjoniee-” You continued to fake-cry as the large boy came closer to the couch with worried eyes. Taehyung had you sitting between his legs, trying his best to manage your drunk body.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Namjoon asked in a genuinely worried tone. His large palms took hold of your face as you tricked him. Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“T-ttaehyu-yung!” You gasped while digging your finger into his hand. Namjoon looked at him questioningly. Seeing Taehyung’s nonchalant face calmed him slightly. “What about Taehyung, sweetie?” Namjoon asked in a sweet tone. His fingers gently caressed your fake tears.

“Taetae doesn’t let me touch his dick!” You broke into another cry as Namjoon let you go with a laugh. Taehyung welcomed your dramatic ass with a hug. You placed your head back on Taehyung’s chest and sobbed without any tears coming.

“She can’t even stand with my help, she is completely drunk.” Taehyung shrugged.

Namjoon laughed, “I am sure Taehyung would love that, sweetheart. But you are drunk for that.” Namjoon repeated what Taehyung said the entire night.

“No! I am not drunk.” You opposed while Namjoon clearly smelled the alcohol from you. “He is just so mean! Tell him, Namjoon. I just want to touch him!”

“I am sure Taehyung will do whatever you wish when you are sober, sweetie. Okay? I am leaving now, good luck man!” Namjoon realised there was no point in arguing, so he left you and poor Taehyung alone in the living room.

“You are so mean Taetae…” This time you quietly said. Taehyung was hoping that you would run out of energy and fall asleep soon. He nodded when you accused him and continued to stroke your back. “Just let me see it!” Your hands hugged his waist stronger as you rubbed your face to his shirt.

Taehyung felt his throat dry. It was so difficult for him to keep denying you while you asked for so many dirty things from him. He was determined not to do anything as you were drunk as fuck. “Baby, you already know my answer. When you-” He calmly tried to explain but you huffed the middle sentence.

Oh, how dearly he wanted to fuck you against his door and make you cry and huff out of pleasure… But he needed to be sure you were able to give consent. With your drunk ass, you possibly cannot.

“I can’t touch your dick; I can’t see your dick… What am I going to do?” You listed with a whine while his dick painfully laid against Taehyung’s stomach. If you were to sit upright just a little, you could feel it how hard he is for you. He continued to caress your back until you pulled yourself from his embrace.

“Can I kiss you, then? Please?” You sniffed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Taehyung brought his hand to your nape, holding your hair in his hand. His adorable boxy smile took over his features. “Of course, baby.” Hey, nodded as his insides melted.

Your lips met his chin in a wet, sloppy peck. “Mwah!” You exaggerated the sound of your lips smacking. Nevertheless, your kiss made Taehyung breathless and weak. You tried to reach for his lips next, your grip was strong on his biceps hoping to tackle him. You kissed Taehyung’s lips cutely as he was smiling like a puppy.

You both giggle in harmony. “See? You can’t even aim your kisses.” Taehyung made fun of you while his arms pulled you over his lap. You didn’t listen and continued giving him quick pecks all over his jaw and lips, moaning into his skin as you tasted him.

He groaned, petting your hair. “Baby…” Your drunken lips bit him down. “I love kissing you.” You confessed breathlessly as you kissed your way down to his neck. Your spit was decorating his skin subtly. When you exhaled on his wet skin, Taehyung felt goosebumps rise all over his back. “You are such a dirty girl…” He hissed when your lips sucked on his pulse.

You groaned, letting yourself sit on his one thigh. Taehyung got tense as your knee brushed his crotch. You earned another hiss from him. “Yeah baby, I can be so dirty for you…” You breathed out, your hands dropped to his shoulders, generously palming them.

Taehyung dropped his head back. His body was on fire because of you. He felt dizzy, almost too weak to even breathe. His hips bucked up to your knee in between his thighs.

You kept sucking his bottom lip, played with his tongue, smothering him in kisses up and down with your warm mouth while eliciting soft whines from him.

“Fucking hell…” He cursed as you gently bit down his collarbones. You needed his lips more like air. “Your mouth…” He rolled his head to sides. His poor heart was beating frantically against his ribcage. It has been a long time since he felt this way just from simple kisses.

“Do you like it?” You asked. Taehyung bit his lip down and nodded. He needed to stop you but couldn’t find himself say no to you.

“You are sooo good at kissing too, you know?” You pulled his head by the hair and planted open-mouth kisses on his neck. It was absolutely filthy, and he loved it. Taehyung placed his hand on your hip, your body reacted to him in seconds. He felt your knee pressing more against his hardness. “F– Y/N…”

“Mhmm, Taetae…” You sucked his skin on his neck little too hard. You can’t be blamed, he tasted too sweet, and you couldn’t resist. Without him realising it, you licked up the pink hickey on his neck gently.

Taehyung stopped you before this before you lured him into seduction. He almost teared up, “Baby… Sit back like a good girl.”

You were absolutely drunk, and he didn’t get consent from you when you were sober. If you slept with him in this state, it would mean he took advantage of you. Even though he wanted you like crazy, he pushed you away from his chest. If he was lucky, you would want him tomorrow too.

He wanted to whine and cry more than you when you weakly untangle yourself from him. “Okayy, fine!” You sat next to him, arms wrapped around yourself, pouting adorably.

“Don’t you pout! It’s not like I don’t want you. I really want this more than you, but you are drunk, baby.” He caressed your face as your pout grow larger.

“I will never drink again. I will not so I can fuck you whenever I want.” You dramatically sniffed again.

“Can I please fuck you whenever I want?” Then, you had the audacity to ask very politely. Taehyung had to hold himself like a saint so that he didn’t just fuck you to shape your insides.

“Yes, baby. You need to be sober first.” No matter how horny he was, he would never touch someone without their consent first. You seemed to understand or got tired, so you mumbled something about napping before putting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm-kay…” You nodded cutely and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Oh, how Taehyung’s inside melted.

“You will feed me dick tomorrow, right?” Your cute voice ringed in Taehyung’s ear one last time as you drunkenly asked. Taehyung’s dick twitched in his boxers as he took one big breath to calm himself. He pecked your hair and lulled you into a sleep. You did fall asleep super quickly, so he took his phone out and scrolled through Instagram while you soundly slept on his side, cuddling him cutely.

You woke up with a headache… next to a very handsome man entangled to you with the warmest embrace. After a few seconds, you felt the subtle presses on your cheek. “Wake up, sweetie…” An impossibly low voice called you gently as kisses were planted on your face.

“Mhhm?” You didn’t register after a few more kisses– well no one would say no to this.

“You’re such a sleepy girl, aren’t you?” Taehyung spoke again with his unlawfully low and sexy voice. His teasing tone got your desires up from their slumber too. Talking about desires… Last night… Oh god…

As you slowly opened your eyes, the warmth of the morning sun greeted you, and you found yourself nestled in a cocoon of soft blankets and Taehyung’s safe arms.

The sensation of tender kisses against your cheek brought you fully into the present. Taehyung lips brushed your skin most affectionately. His breath was warm, creating a comforting contrast to the cool morning air, and for a moment, you let yourself relish in the sweet simplicity of it all.

With your eyes still closed, you allowed yourself to savour the moment, the soft caresses and the way his lips felt against your skin. You knew that as soon as you woke up, you would be greeted by the shameless thing you said to him last night.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were greeted by Taehyung's handsome face, his eyes soft and crinkled at the edges with a gentle smile. You wanted to cry about how handsome and pretty he was. His tousled hair and the hint of stubble on his chin only added to his rugged charm. His face was puffy, making him look so real.

His low voice, a soothing murmur, broke the quiet morning air as he said, "Good morning, sleepyhead." His morning voice could make you choke.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling so embarrassed and still so relaxed. And as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, a shiver ran down your spine at the intimate touch. It was moments like these that made your heart skip a beat, that made you realize how much he meant to you. His care and concern last night were etched in your memory, a testament to the genuine person he was. And your sluttiness did test his entire character.

“Oh my god… Taehyung…” You mumbled as you hid your face into his arm, breathing in his neck while hiding from his eyes.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently.

“Oh my… Taehyung, I am so sorry.” You said against the smooth skin of his neck. He chuckled with that unholy low voice as he patted your nape. “Why are you sorry, baby?”

You buried your nose into his skin. “The things I said to you… Oh my god…” You groaned and tried to suffocate yourself.

“Yeah?” He teased you as you whined. You shakily pulled yourself from his arms and looked at his face. He rocked a gorgeous bedhead and he still looked fucking hot. You blurred, “I didn’t mean– Fuck! I meant all of them, but I’m sorry.”

Taehyung chuckled again, “You don’t need to apologise. You don’t know how much I enjoyed drunk Y/N.”

“But still…” You shrugged and with a sudden mood change you blamed him. “But it was all your fault! You were fucking flaunting yourself, Kim Taehyung. You made me suffer.” Your serious tone was hard to decipher. Taehyung could see the real annoyance in your eyes while your lips were in a cute pout.

“I didn’t do anything.” Taehyung laughed as his pretty eyes got squeezed shut. He rolled to his side as he held his tummy.

You picked yourself to your elbows, visibly annoyed. “I can’t believe you Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s laugh only grew more, and you grew annoyed. You huffed and turned your back to him. You were in the mood to play.

“Okay, okay, I am only joking.” Taehyung hugged you from the back.

You huffed and peeled his hand off. “No! You don’t like me! Don’t hug me.”

“Y/N!” He was still laughing at you. The audacity!

“I told you that I wouldn’t let you get into my pants if you got drunk.” Taehyung was a thoughtful, honest man, but you were too horny for that. You needed him to rock your world.

You thought you could stay mouth shut, “So you literally leave me to die dickless. Unacceptable.”

Taehyung loved your cute facade. “After I promised you could fuck me whenever you want when you were sober and took care of you in my bed.” He threw his long arm over you again, and you didn’t push him this time.

He pressed your back to his chest; your hair tickled his chin. “I am ready to give you what you want.” He whispered into your ear, and in an instant, you felt yourself drip into your underwear. It was dangerous how easily he riled you up as you turned your head to him with a challenging look.

He was fucking tired of back and forth. “You gave me the most painful hard on yesterday and didn’t take care of it.” His sinful tone was enough to make you fucking lose your mind.

Taehyung kissed behind your ear, you shuttered. “Taehyung…” Your hand found his hair. “You didn’t l-et me.” You cried.

“You know I couldn’t do it, baby…” Taehyung cupped your tummy with his warm hand. His low voice vibrated your body. “How can I make it up to you? Mhmm? Would you want me to fuck you now? Have my way with you?”

You hummed sweetly and egged him to continue. He lowly chuckled, “Last night, you were begging me to see my dick, to touch it. You are so naughty.”

“Taehyung!” You whined as he rubbed your tummy with his huge palm. You melted against him like an ice cream on a sunny day.

“I’m sorry, my sweet baby… I promise I will be good to you... if you want, of course.” He pleaded with a whiney voice as he continued to lure you.

“You are so mean!” You whined again. Taehyung was so amused why your whiny voice. “I only wanted to spend time with you. That was what I ever wanted!” You truly came to this party to spend time with Taehyung. If not for him, you would have blast in your home watching Sewing Bee’s new episode.

Taehyung supported, "We are spending time. Look." He pulled you close to him. He was lying to Taehyung's left. His hot, moist breath hit his neck rhythmically. Her lips left small hesitant kisses.

That "bulge" you felt when your back was turned to him was now pressed into bed. But you remembered how big and tough it was, both from your hazy memories of last night and from a few minutes earlier. And all this made you motivated.

Since you did not know how to start a conversation, what to say without the help of alcohol, you resorted to a simpler method. You slowly caressed Taehyung's right cheek and got his attention, then pressed your lips to hers.

Taehyung smiled into the kiss before reciprocating. Your kiss was different than the last night. Last night, you were shoving your tongue to his throat. But now, the kiss was way more sensual. Your hold on his face grounded both of you as you treated your kiss as a dance.

You followed his lips as Taehyung pulled back slightly to breathe and joke with you.

Just that simple action made him feel horny. He groaned into the kiss and welcomed your timid lips with so much eager.

“Don’t bite me, baby.” The quietness of your tone and the pet name turned Taehyung on even more.

Now, his poor erection was begging to be seen, touched and played by you. His lips became hungrier, sometimes tugged on your lip for longer. His hand grabbed on your nape as if you could be any physically closer.

“Can’t help it.” He slurred between breaths.

You hummed and connected your lips together. Taehyung’s lips felt buttery smooth. Your spits smeared all over your mouths, so your lips and tongues glided perfectly.

Normally, Taehyung would be the one that paced the kiss, pulled away to breathe. However, this time your roles were reversed.

“You are gonna bruise my lips.” You whined when Taehyung harshly sucked on your bottom lip.

He murmured inaudibly under his breath before rolling over you. He placed himself between your legs, his knees dug into the mattress. Your legs were thrown over his thighs.

He breathed heavily against your ear. “Do you want this?” He asked.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Yeah…”

To your answer, Taehyung pressed his body weight on to you. His lips now attacked your neck. He pulled down your t-shirt– well one of his old t-shirts.

“Tilt your head back.” He ordered annoyingly whilst pulling the pillow under your head to create a perfect angle where he can suck hickeys.

Taehyung was taller than you. Even though he always used the height difference to his advantage by towering over you, now it became annoying.

He folded himself, pulled you up, albeit no position was enough for him.

“I could eat you in one bite.” He growled out of frustration.

You chuckled as he bit down the column of your neck, “Is that a promise or a threat?” You jokingly asked.

“Both.” His lips lingered around your pulse. This time rather than open-mouth kisses, he sucked, surely leaving a big, pulsating red mark.

You chuckled at his poor attempts to grind. He was too tall, therefore, his hips poorly bucked up against mattress.

You pulled on his nape. “But–”

Taehyung faintly hummed in recognition.

“Taehyung…” You called him again. This time pushing his shoulders.

“Yeah, baby?” Taehyung detached his puffy lips away from your skin and looked up. His fluffy hair was all over his handsome face, covering those dangerous, brown eyes.

“You made me so upset last night. Are you not going to make up to me?” Your voice was so sultry, dangerously innocent. It played with Taehyung’s mind.

“A-anything, baby.” He said, a small globe of spit dripped down his lips to your t-shirt.

“Anything I ask?” You asked in a full, excited voice.

Taehyung gulped, “Anything.” He was ready to give you his everything. You just need to name it.

You brushed your noses together. That made Taehyung smile endearingly. “Are you certain you would do anything?” You further dragged this.,

Taehyung hummed, “Anything… that doesn’t involve my asshole.”

You quietly chuckled at him. “You do have a nice ass, but that’s not what I want.” From his nape, you dragged your hands to his waist. You gently pressed him to yourself. He groaned at the softness of your body under his.

His voice, this time exceedingly high pitched, filled your ears. “What do you need me to do, baby?” He begged to serve you.

He was subtly grinding, his eyes hidden due to the strands of hair falling from his forehead. His begging voice was so arousing and empowering.

You brushed his hair away from his eyes to find them close. So, you opted for pulling them. His eyes opened a little.

“Jerk off for me.” You breathed out.

Taehyung’s eyes rolled back at your words. Out of everything you could ask for, you chose something that would sweetly torture him.

Blood rushed to his dick as if there was a race. He felt blood draining from his brain, making him a dumb boy– a toy that programmed to please you.

“Y/N…” He groaned. His face was hidden on your neck.

His pretty hair tickled you. “Taehyung, please…” You begged, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut. “Please jerk of in front of me.”

Taehyung sadly pulled himself back. He was wearing a big pout. “I could fuck you… very good too!” He opposed but had already warmed up to the idea.

“I need to see your dick first. You know– to tell if it is good enough.” Your challenge drove Taehyung mad, quite literally.

His throat grumbled with a frustrated, low moan that exuded a dark pull that melted you.

Lifting the blanket that was draped over you, Taehyung lifted himself from the bed. Thanks to his broad shoulders, the pike hung down from his shoulders, reminiscent of a tent.

Taehyung stepped between her legs, folded them nicely, and put his hands on his knees. His meaty thighs were bulging inside his shorts and laying under your thighs. His shirt was another old graphic shirt that had small holes around the hem. Even the washed-out colours and messy hair couldn’t take a pinch off of Taehyung’s handsome face.

Despite the puffy eyes and a sleepy face, Taehyung stood tall and attractive on the bed. His weight slightly dipped the mattress. His shirt loosely hanging over his body, his hands caressing your naked legs.

“You changed me?” You were wearing a dress last night.

Taehyung nodded. “I closed the windows and turn off the lights to change you. I swear I didn’t peak or touch you. I just took off your dress—”

You shushed him. You trust him well enough to handle your drunk ass. You knew he handled you like the gentleman he is.

“You didn’t even look at my boobs?” You disappointedly asked.

His face twisted into a crying face. “Of course not, Y/N.” Like he was almost about to cry out of frustration.

“Then, how are you going to jerk off? How do you do it usually?”

Taehyung shook his head to the sides. He wasn’t ready to tell you the truth. With a whine, he dodged the question.

When his chest was bare, your hands were placed on his forearms. “Can I touch you?” You asked, like him.

His fingers trembled as he moved your hands to his chest. His skin was so warm, smooth. He shivered when your hand caressed his ribs. “Baby…” He moaned. His lean stomach was tensed to show the lines of his abs.

Your mouth watered at the sight. You wanted to lick down his pecs, suck his golden skin.

His abdomen was smooth, only a faint happy trail going down his shorts. A very prominent vein was pulsing just below his belt line, making you wonder what he was taming in his underwear.

“You are so attractive…” You breathed out. Your, now, numb arms helplessly fell. Taehyung’s eyes were closed but he heard the soft pat on the pillows. His hands wanted to follow the same pattern. With a steady hold, the warm, big palms caressed down your thighs from your knees.

His sneaky hands halted at the skirt of your shirt. He opened his pretty, glossy eyes and spoke. “May I take it off?”

He had been biting his bottom lip so harshly that they looked like bleeding.

“Ah, Taehyung… Please do…” You begged; your hips bucked up to his hands.

As his fingers wrapped around the skirt of the shirt, you gasped, remembering something particularly important.

“Taehyung…” You whined. His hands stopped and looked at you concerned but blown out pupils.

He waited for you to continue.

“You didn’t peak at my underwear, right?” You asked.

Taehyung nodded, “I swear I didn’t see or touch anything, baby. I promise.” His caramel eyes were genuine as he caressed you lovingly. His voice came out as a soft plead, a promise of protection.

You shook your head. “It’s not that! I– I thought we would already, you know– bang.”

Taehyung's chuckle sent a delightful shiver down your spine, his amusement infectious. "Bang?" his deep voice echoed in his own chest. "I suppose that's one way to put it." He said very quietly.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you couldn’t help but join in his laughter, the sound blending with the tension in the air. "Well, you know what I mean," you muttered, playfully smacking his torso.

He caught your hand, interlocking your fingers together, his eyes sparkling with affection. "So, what, baby?" he murmured, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate.

You felt your breath catch as he gazed at you, his expression so full of love and need. "I wore a set that you would like..." you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Taehyung's eyes darkened with desire at your confession. "Oh, baby," he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "You wore something for me? I thought the pretty dress was enough of a fever dream.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of heat flood your body. “I wanted to surprise you," you murmured, your own voice shaking with anticipation.

His hands, still intertwined with yours, squeezed gently. "Can I see?" he asked, his tone almost desperate, his pupils blown wide with longing.

You gave a shy nod, feeling both bold and vulnerable under his intense gaze. Slowly, you moved his hands to the hem of your skirt. "I want to take my shirt off. You watch.”

He groaned softly in protest, but he followed your orders. He watched your arms go cross over your body, your fingers wrap around the fabric and gently pulled his t-shirt off.

His breath hitched when he saw the delicate pink lace of your underwear, his eyes widening in admiration. "Fuck, you're perfect," he breathed out, his voice hoarse with desire.

Taehyung's hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards with a tantalizing slowness. His eyes couldn’t decide where to land, frantically going up and down your body. "I can't believe you did this for me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of shyness and excitement. "I wanted to make you happy," you replied softly, his fingers muting your voice.

“You have no idea how deep you got me,” he murmured. His one hand was placed on your waist. Firmly and boldly. Your stomach tensed. That didn’t pass unseen as Taehyung caressed the expanse of your stomach. He deeply groaned as he pressed on the soft folding of your stomach.

Then, his eyes fluttered on the price, your boobs.

Taehyung had a not-so-secret infatuation with your breasts. They were soft, womanly, and made Taehyung hard every single time.

“Do you have enough material to jerk off now?” You asked, remembering you had one big mission rather than showing him your tits.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered back to you. He kind of wished you would let it go, but he was determined to do whatever you pleased. If he was correct about his feelings, you watching him masturbate could drive you mad.

His hand abandoned you despite your protest. Your eyes immediately flickered down to the subject of matter, his clothed cock.

Taehyung was readily waiting for you since last night. He was hard, throbbing, sticky and everything in between. You plagued his mind so much that he’d turned into a play toy you could command.

Since he was a teenager, he was exposed to adult content. He kept reminding himself that he’d seen naked woman before as he struggles to understand why he was this deeply captured by your figure.

Maybe it was your matching cute lingerie that shook his core, you taking time to think about his pleasure, about his dick.

Taehyung hissed in pain when he squeezed himself over his shorts. For you, his voice was a taste of heaven. “You hard?” You asked deliriously. His boyish red shorts were only bulging, didn’t give a clear outline.

“Yeah…” He murmured as he stroke himself a few times. Globes of precum had already ruined his boxers.

When Taehyung took more time than you could endure, your hands intervened. Pretty painted nails grazed down his hips, just above the start of his v line. “Can’t wait to see it.” You murmured.

“Do you wanna feel it?” Taehyung asked. He knew he was playing against the rules.

“I–” You spoke of hesitation before letting yourself go. “Fine.” You surrendered.

You held your hand out for Taehyung to grab. He took his sweet time with you. He held your wrists, opened your palm to lay it on his. He compared how small your fingers to him while knowing how you gawked at his hands.

You loved the lean, long fingers. His large, manly palm that could grab your entire face in one. You love to trace the veins that protrude over the back of his hand up to his biceps. You love how meticulously kept his nails were. You could eat of from his hands without any second thoughts.

You held your breath as Taehyung put your hand on below his stomach. Your fingers sneakily brushed against the happy trail you saw earlier. After letting you tease and feel him around, Taehyung pressed your hand to his erection.

You gasped loudly. If you weren’t so sure of him, you could assume he stuffed something else in his pants. Not being able to control yourself, you tugged your hand free touch him without his restrict.

You tried to make out the outline of his appendage by touching. His girthy length felt infinitely long as you brushed along it. He was radiating warmth beneath two layers of fabric and throbbed.

Taehyung hissed when you made it towards his sensitive tip. “Oh, wow…” You said. Your free hand came up to caress too. While your one hand held the tip, your other hand when down his length.

Taehyung growled; his hips bucked up to your touch involuntarily. “Are you impressed yet?” He asked through his teeth.

“Intrigued.” You replied. Your voice was hoarse.

“Let’s not wait you for long, huh?” He asked. His hand pulled down his shorts first. The red pyjama shorts pooled down on his knees. Next were his black boxers. When your hands touched him through his underwear. You felt how much he leaked.

Suppressing your laugh, you thanked him. “Can’t wait…”

Taehyung didn’t want to wait too. He needed direct skin contact in regards of how little patience he had. He didn’t care if he would cum straight away.

While you entertained yourself and salivated over his deep v line, Taehyung took matters into his own hands and pulled his boxers down too.

His cock sprung out. You gasped.

It was even more impressive than you had imagined, thick and throbbing, the mushroom shaped head glistening with precum. It was pretty. You didn’t expect less compared to Taehyung’s Greek good body.

His length stood proudly. If you looked closely, you could see it pulsate. The needy thing almost turned purple from how hard it got. Your hands trembled as you reached out to touch him again.

This time you were the one went hazy. You looked at Taehyung with big eyes. Almost unsure if you were dreaming. As your hands got suspended halfway, Taehyung nodded, allowing you.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, feeling the heat and the hardness of him. Taehyung’s response was a strangled moan, his body arching into your touch.

You weren’t as mean as previously. You still took your time exploring him, but gentler.

“Pretty.” You mumbled to yourself.

Taehyung laughed. No one called his dick pretty before. He shook the bed with the bounce of his shoulders. “You think my cock is pretty?”

You licked your lips. Taehyung saw the hunger in your eyes. Only momentarily he imagined your smooth lips over his pretty cock. If you thought his dick was pretty, you would give it a kiss, right?

It was an idea to entertain another time as you gained more consciousness over the situation.

“So pretty.” You repeated.

Taehyung’s cock throbbed at the praised. Your eyes were locked on his dick. Both of his hands were wrapped around the base.

You hummed; your hands tugged at his wrists. “Hands off–” You murmured. He didn’t want to stop holding it as he was sure you were going to tease him.

“Taehyung!” You called his name more clearly. “Please stop holding it.” Ever kind, you asked.

Taehyung poutingly released his grip to gladly let you take control. His pouty and whiny face egged you to do whatever you want to him.

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “Look at this…” Your excitement was silenced when his tip couldn’t be enclosed by the wrap of your index finger and thumb.

Taehyung groaned as his hips rolled against your tight hold. Your hand was already covered in his stickiness. You allowed Taehyung to roll his hips a few times, “See! It was your hands that made it look average. It’s huge…” You whispered it like a secret.

He held your thighs; his fingers gripped you hard. “Y/N…” Taehyung moaned your name from his throat. You were playing him around like a toy and he enjoyed it. “Baby…” His moan was bliss to your ears. You wanted to record it and listen every damn second of the day.

Only momentarily– to test if he would continue moan like that again, you tugged at his length once. Unlike his poor excuse of strokes, you used both of your hands and held him firmly throughout. His whole body shuddered with immense vigour even only with a singular stroke.

When Taehyung opened his eyes, he saw two of your fists wrapped around him, and yet a good two inches of his tip was still exposed. Your hold was fairly tight to compensate. Taehyung had a small brains space to speak. “Even with your two hands you can’t hold me properly.” He whispered to himself.

You whimpered at the feeling of his hard dick. You felt the warm blood pumping, making him so heavy. Your insides were clenching sporadically while the only thing to ease you laid in your hands. To his relief, you stroked him again.

When your palms glided against Taehyung’s dick simultaneously again, he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back to his shoulders. If you stroked him like this for more than five times, he would cum. No thoughts, just orgasm like he never had before.

His entire body tensed with the pleasure that surged through him. Your gentle and timid hands, the way your fingers wrapped around his length, made him feel like he was made from gold.

"God, Y/N," he breathed, his voice trembling. "You feel so good."

His dick ejected plenty of precum to prove his point. His knees were spreaded further causing you to spread more. You saw this pleasure in him so much that you slowed down his movements. You wanted Taehyung on the line between pleasure and pain.

Taehyung took a deep breath. "My tip..." He sniffled. You were avoiding his poor tip, thus giving him semi-dry strokes.

“What about your tip, baby?” You asked as you mimicked his pout.

You mimicked his pout, your tone teasing but affectionate.

Taehyung whimpered, his eyes pleading. “Please,” he sniffled, his voice a desperate whisper. “Touch my tip. I want it so bad, Y/N.”

You looked at him, pretending to consider his request. “You want it?” you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of teasing. “Or you need me to?”

He nodded frantically, his hips bucking slightly in a futile attempt to guide your hand where he needed it most. “Need! I need you, please,” he pleaded, his breath hitching. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Aw… Baby…” You made a sympathetic noise, but your hands soon left him completely.

Taehyung’s response was immediate, a choked moan escaping his lips as his body arched into your touch. His hands returned to their iron grip on your thighs.

“Why?” He gasped, almost sobbing. “Why stop when I–?”

“You know why, baby. You know what I need you to do.” You whispered. You placed your hands over his, gently pushing him.

Taehyung left red hand marks on your thighs when he loosened his grip. He was looking at you with the cutest pout.

“Look at you! Crying baby with leaky dick.” You amused even though your panties were soaked through and through. The wet fabric was obvious to Taehyung, who was clearly having bigger issues now. Albeit you could feel the slickness between your lips, rubbing so messily to your underwear.

Taehyung's cheeks were forever flushed a deep shade of pink. His pupils were blown out, teared eyed because of how much you teased him.

“Ah, don’t be so upset. You make me so wet too…” You muttered as if you were the victim. If you weren’t so keen on teasing Taehyung, he would have fucked you to cloud nine.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered down to your clothed core, his pupils dilating further as he took in the sight of your soaked panties. His expression shifted as he soft the outline of your lips, a primal hunger taking over as he let out a low, guttural growl.

He bit his lip, his hand trembling as he tried to control himself. The sight of your arousal was driving him wild, his own need growing more intense with each passing second. He hiccupped; his voice was gone.

“Mhmm?” You asked him dreamily. He wasn’t aware of his own head wrapping around his cock.

You smiled. This was where you needed him. You looked at his palm wrapped around his base. The vein from his point finger had grown prominent and followed towards his elbow.

He was–now– sweaty and breathless. His body ached as if he ran a marathon.

“How do you do this usually?” You asked– meaninglessly curious about his own sexy time.

“Do what?” Taehyung’s brain was nonfunctional due to lack of blood.

You squinted; you weren’t sure if he was intentionally doing this. To warn him, you squeezed his tip.

Taehyung whined, “Y/N! F-fuck.” He covered your hand in his sticky juice in seconds.

You pouted, “Don’t play dumb.” You were opposite of scolding him.

Taehyung shook his head to sides, “I– I just jerk off. N-nothing complicated.” He blabbered.

“No toys?” You asked.

Taehyung shook his head again. Now, he had iron grip on your hands and his hips started to maintain their rhythm against them.

“I am a dude, Y/N. I just stroke it for a few minutes, and I’m done.” He was telling the truth. He never had vibrators or fleshlights. His previous partners were too faint to remember. There was nothing he felt particularly attached.

“Surely you watch something? Or look at something?” You egged him.

Taehyung nodded, “Yeah.” His eyes were closed again. His bottom lip caught on his teeth while he breathlessly humped the palm of your hand.

Even though Taehyung craved stimulation, he couldn’t take another squeeze of his poor leaking cock. He continued playing into your game. “Sometimes porn… I- Your photos…” He murmured very guilty. He was literally in your hands so there was no point to lie.

You sent him a lot of thirst traps. He was ever gentleman, always respectfully looking at your photos and admiring them in mere seconds before his dick grew tall. He politely responded to them with floods of emojis and compliments. Depending on the content of the photos, he exterminated them almost immediately. However, more than many times, he had your photos flash through his eyes while stroking his cock.

You were the perfect remedy for his dick. Those photos made his alone time pass so quick.

The answer seemed to please you as you giggled. “My innocent selfies?” You amused.

Taehyung gulped. There was plethora of different types of photos you sent. Some were fun and dramatic, and others were simply so fucking hot. “Mhmhm…” Taehyung nodded pathetically.

For example, an innocent picture of your ass to ask if the colour of your jeans match your shirt… That juicy peach always made his dick harden.

“What do you think about while looking at them, baby?” You were hooked in. You needed him to confess his deepest secrets and become addicted to you. You loved the nice, easy-going, bubbly man he was outside. But you craved the man behind the gentleman gestures.

You helped him to wrap his right hand around his dick. You adjusted his hold. “There you go… Tell me.” You whispered when he started stroking himself with cute shivers.

“I imagine your lips,” he continued, his voice trembling with need. “Your lips on my lips, on my neck, kissing me, sucking me… I think about how soft they’d feel, how warm your mouth is.”

His hand moved faster, the slick sounds filling the room as he lost himself in his confession. His free hand grabbed your boob. He needed an emotional tit squeeze.

You gave him that with a whimper. You placed your hand over his. ”You like it when I kiss your neck, baby?”

He gulped and nodded. He enjoyed your small body pressed against him, your hands holding onto his shoulders cutely while you leaned in to place a soft kiss on his neck.

“God, yes,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and desire. “I love it when you do anything to me…”

Taehyung continued, “I think about your body, how perfect you are, how much I want to touch you, taste you… I- I think about your boobs. You drive me crazy, Y/N.” His eyes rolled back in the soft feeling of your tit. He wished he grabbed them sooner.

“I imagine you riding me, your body bouncing on top of mine, taking me so deep… I think about how tight you’d feel, how you’d moan my name…” His voice broke, a desperate edge creeping in but still so deep, low, and manly. “How you would cry about how big my dick is…” He chuckled deviously.

You confidently giggled. Hearing him so openly express his desires fuelled your own. “You really like it when I’m in control, don’t you?” you chuckle– little too confidently.

“For now,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and authority, sending a shiver down your spine.

You replied, your voice exceedingly small. “Well, right now, you’re mine to play with.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he warned, his tone playful yet promising. His chest rose and fell quickly with each breath.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes locking onto his with a challenging gaze. “I will,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

“What else, Taehyung?” you pressed, wanting more, needing to hear him completely unravel.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, intense gaze. "I imagine you on top of me, your eyes half-closed, lips parted as you sink down on me, taking me deeper and deeper," he murmured, his voice a blend of raw desire and an edge of vulnerability. "I see you throwing your head back, moaning my name, telling me how good I feel inside you… how you’d lose yourself in the pleasure, riding me until you can't take it anymore." The words spilled out of his mouth

“You sound so fucking hot…” You cried helplessly. You dreamed about riding him. The mind image was perfect. He was built huge in height. He was your own big teddy bear that you get to hump.

“I will make you take it. All of this…” He held his dick at the base and slapped it against his palm. His voice was sinister.

You pliantly nodded. Your eyes were on his dick, silently watching every single move of his dick. He never seen a girl look at his dick with this much love.

“You will sit on me and take it, right baby?” He asked.

“I-i don’t know…” You blabbered. He was the biggest you ever seen in real life. Despite all the dirty talk, you were all bark and no bite. Taehyung was well aware of it.

“I will make you take it.” He promised.

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his words making your heart race. “I… I want to,” you admitted, your voice trembling with both fear and excitement.

“Good girl,” he praised, his eyes darkening with lust. “You’re going to take all of me, every inch. You’ll be so full of me; you won’t be able to think of anything else.”

A whimper escaped your lips, your body aching with need. “Taehyung! I– you continue…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Yeah? You want me to continue? You want me to continue stroking my cock while watching you?”

“Yes… I want you to cum…” you confessed, your voice breaking.

With a pleased smile Taehyung’s hand moved to his cock, stroking himself slowly at first, then picking up the pace. If you needed him to cum, he would gladly point you white.

He groaned, “Let me see your titties better, then.”

You unhooked your bra off and threw it away as words left his mouth. You looked at him with big eyes for his approval. “Nice titties….” Taehyung hummed while grabbing each of them one after the other.

The sight of his hand moving over his thick length, combined with the slick sounds of his arousal, made your own need unbearable. You felt yourself almost combusting.

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and filled with raw desire. “Oh, fuck… Y/N,” he groaned, his voice deep and rough. He made sure your heard all of his pretty noises.

Your hands trembled as they moved to your panties, slipping underneath the fabric to find your swollen clit. You gasped at the sensation, start to rub yourself desperately as you watched Taehyung’s hand move over his length.

“Ah, you’re gonna touch yourself too?” He cooed you but his eyes were locked at how your hands were stuffed into your panties.

“Oh, Taehyung,” you moaned, your voice filled with need and anger. “You make me so wet!”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Are you touching your clit, baby?”

Your body trembled, your fingers working faster as you felt the pressure building inside you. You barely nodded. Your fingers were barely satisfying you. They were clumsily bumping at your clit to relieve the hunger.

“Taetae…” you panted, your voice a desperate whimper.

“Look at me… I am leaking so much for you.” Taehyung pointed to his dick. His eyes never left yours as he continued to stroke himself, the slick sounds only intensifying.

“I–” You huffed out of frustration. Your panties didn’t give you the room to help yourself.

You were stuck to watch Taehyung’s orgasm ripple through his soul while you couldn’t even touch yourself properly. Maybe you shouldn’t have been this mean to him.

Your pout had become bigger as frustration built up in you. Taehyung watched your fidgety digits, but they did the opposite of help. Taehyung could change that easily.

He placed his free hand on your thigh. Your body had a number of reactions: shiver, ran away, and then push yourself towards him instead. He gently squeezed up to the apex of your thigh, his fingers teased your inner thighs.

You screamed top of your lungs. “B-baby!”

Taehyung’s eyes found yours authoritatively. He didn’t need to utter any words. “I- got them for you. A few days ago…” You barely managed to utter while your body convulsed because of his fingertips.

“Hmm, your underwear? You’re cute...” With a smirk, he hooked his fingers around the delicate fabric and, with a swift motion, tore your panties off, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the room. The sensation of the cool air against your heated skin made you shiver.

“Taehyung!” You exclaimed in shock.

His eyes darkened with desire as he saw your messy lips, glistening with your arousal. The sight of your swollen, slick folds and the way your wetness glistened in the dim light made his breath hitch. Your pussy was beautiful and inviting. A creamy peach for him to devour.

Taehyung’s hand continued to move over his thick length, his mouth salivated. His gaze was fixed on your exposed sex, the sight of you so open and vulnerable for him driving him wild. He groaned deeply; his jaw clenched.

Your fingers, still trembling from the overwhelming sensations, hesitated as he ripped your pretty decent clothing away without any trouble. It was physically impossible for you to become hornier for him.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “So, I can continue...” He said while waving his cock like a torch.

With a shaky breath, you obeyed, your fingers moving to your swollen clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation was electric, your body responding instantly to the touch.

Taehyung’s eyes followed your every move, his own hand speeding up as he watched you pleasure yourself. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Just like that, baby.” His breathing grew heavier, and his strokes became more urgent. “Put your fingers inside,” he ordered, his eyes locked onto yours.

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over your clit. “Do it,” he growled, the intensity of his gaze making your body tingle.

You shook your head to sides. “No, you do it. I… can’t…”

His eyes flashed with something primal at your words, the hint of fear and the desperate plea igniting his desire further. "Scared?" he repeated, a dangerous smirk curling his lips.

He firmly grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers back to your swollen clit. "Coat your fingers in that cream." he commanded; his voice rough with need.

With a shaky breath, you obeyed, your fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, your body responding instantly to your own touch, now intensified by his commanding presence.

"That's it," Taehyung murmured, his voice low and husky. "Just like that, baby. Get all of that juice." His own hand resumed its motion on his thick length, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his gaze making your body tingle.

His strokes on himself became more urgent, the slick sounds of his arousal filling the room. "You're so fucking wet for me," he groaned, watching the way your fingers moved, the way your body trembled.

After he was satisfied the amount your two finger was coated, he ordered, "Put those fingers in my mouth."

Taehyung made you withdraw your fingers from your dripping pussy and brought them to his mouth. His lips closed around them immediately, his tongue swirling around your digits, tasting every drop of your arousal.

His eyes rolled back at your taste. His entire chest vibrated with a growl.

Taehyung sucked on your fingers greedily, his eyes never leaving yours. As he continued to taste you, his hand never stopped moving over his length, the slick sounds of his stroking mingling with the wet noises of his mouth.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered around your fingers, his voice muffled but filled with lust. The sight of him devouring your essence, combined with the feeling of his mouth on your fingers, drove you to the edge.

Your body trembled with anticipation, the pressure building inside you becoming almost unbearable. “Taehyung, please cum for me.” you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea.

With a final, deep groan, Taehyung released.

His pupils dilated with primal lust as he quickened his pace, his hand moving frantically over his length. His breathing grew ragged, his moans louder, filling the room with the sound of his impending release.

With a guttural moan, his body shuddered, his hand moving in a frenzied blur as he came. His release spurted over your thighs and tummy. His hot and stick coated your skin.

His face crumbled into a frown as his orgasm painfully washed him all over. He continued to stroke himself, milking every drop. His eyes never left yours while you writhed on the bed.

As the waves of his orgasm subsided, he looked at you, breathless and flushed. A sheepish smile decorated his handsome face. His chest heaved with the effort of catching his breath, his gaze filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.

Your eyes broke eye contact moments ago. You were looking at dick with awe and how his sticky cum painted your tummy. “You have a decent aim.” You chuckled while looking at the globe of his juice right on your nipple.

Taehyung chuckled; his hand got all the damage. “Couldn’t help myself. You taste really good,” he amused, his voice hoarse from the intensity of his release.

You deeply sighed. Your voice was barely a whisper, trembling with the remnants of your own excitement. "You are so fucking hot."

He smirked, tracing a finger through his cum on your tummy. "You like being my canvas?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

Your body shivered at his touch, the warmth of his finger sending sparks through your skin. "Yeah…" you murmured, your eyes meeting his once more.

Taehyung’s expression softened, a look of pure adoration shining through his eyes. "Good," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. "Did you make sure I was good for you, baby?" he teased.

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. "You were perfect," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection.

He grinned, his hand caressing your side. "Perfect, huh?" he said, his tone playful.

You watched Taehyung deliriously come down from his orgasm to realise he came all over your chest.

“Look at the mess you made.” You tried to say pointedly. Your core was entrenched, mixing with his release on your skin. Every inch of your skin was still burning as you weren’t granted a beautiful orgasm like Taehyung’s.

You dipped your fingers between your lips. The warmth and stickiness welcomed you. Everything was so sensitive.

Taehyung's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his release mingling with your own arousal on your chest. He could see the frustration in your eyes, the need for your own release still burning within you.

"Do I get to touch you now?" He asked with forced pout. His hands pushed your thighs apart by pulling your knees. Your lips separated from each other to allow him to have a view of your clit.

You nodded eagerly. "You made me so wet, Taehyung," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with the remnants of your own excitement. The words ignited something primal in him, his gaze darkening with renewed desire.

He reached down, his fingers gently brushing against your drenched lips. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath hitching in response. "I can see that," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

His fingers teased your folds, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. He brought his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight made your core throb with need. He looked so primal when he enjoyed your taste. His eyes kept rolling back while his chest hummed like a thunder.

Taehyung leaned in. His body hovered over you. “This is how much I get you wet?" he whispered. You bit your lip and nodded.

"It's so fucking sexy," he breathed out heavily.

You moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Taehyung..." you whimpered, your body aching for more of his touch.

He smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I want to taste you," he said, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel your juices on my tongue. I want to make you come all over my face."

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming need coursing through you.

He leaned down to connect your forehead lovingly despite the filthy he was uttering. You almost kiss-attacked him. He was amused by your enthusiasm. His one hand continued to support his weight over you while the other was placed on your face.

He cooed your cheek while your desperation grew big enough to bite Taehyung off. He chuckled, “Do you want to paint my face with your sweet cum, baby?”

You whimpered under him. He was so annoying! He didn’t let his body pressed against you. You needed his every curve of his Godly body to compress yours until you become one.

"Yes," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need.

His eyes darkened with hunger at your words. "Are you going to let me taste every single drop?" he murmured.

His dirty talk drove you crazy. Your bratty hand acted on the urge, and you pulled Taehyung’s hair– maybe a bit too hard.

Taehyung didn’t mind a bit. He was glad he was able to turn you on beyond his imagine. He let you pull him to your will.

“Please baby, I want to have it straight from the source.” Taehyung begged. His bottom lip already caught in your teeth, sucking at it like his little vampire.

Your desperation switched off something in his brain. He wanted to fuck you into another dimension, to defile any common sense, to make you forget everything but the feeling of him inside you while he feels like a puddle at your feet, doing whatever you need.

His hands moved with purpose, yanking your hands from his body. When meeting his darkened gaze, you pouted. “I- I wanted make out.” You asked softly.

He leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a fleeting kiss, enough to make you feel the warmth of his breath but not enough to satisfy your craving. "Not yet, baby," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "You’ll get all the kisses you want after I’ve had my taste."

After Taehyung returned to his previous position in between your legs. Your hands tried to search for him, but your attempts remained futile.

Taehyung’s gaze flickered to the dried remnants of his release on your skin. The sight of it only seemed to stir something deeper inside him. Without another word, he grabbed his discarded shirt, gently wiping away the sticky evidence of his earlier climax. His movements were tender, almost reverent, as if he were preparing you for what was to come next.

As he finished, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with intent. "You’re too beautiful to be covered in anything but my cum, but it must be annoying to have dried cum all over you," he murmured, his tone both possessive and adoring.

You shrugged. It wasn’t the best feeling, but you would do anything to feel his hands around you… which was dangerous.

He tossed the shirt aside and settled himself back between your legs, his large hands spreading your thighs wide open.

Your body trembled under his intense gaze, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape. The air between you was thick with anticipation, the heat of the moment making your skin prickle with desire.

Unlike you, he had mercy and spared you an unnecessary foreplay.

Taehyung's need for you was almost unbearable, so he lifted your legs onto his shoulders.

You shrieked but allowed him to continue after his eyes clocked onto yours. He kissed your calves calmly while you adjusted to the idea of having his lips on your core.

After a few seconds, Taehyung lowered himself to his elbows, your thighs resting on his shoulders.

As Taehyung settled between your legs, his breath hitched at the sight before him. Your core was glistening with arousal, your lips slightly parted and inviting, a sight that sent a surge of desire coursing through him. His gaze darkened, filled with an almost overwhelming need as he took in every detail—the way your wetness pooled, the way your body seemed to pulse with anticipation. He could barely hold back the growl that rumbled in his chest.

His fingers gently spreaded your folds. The cool air against your wetness made you shiver, and you could see the hunger in his eyes as he took in the sight of you. A string of curse left his filthy mouth. "Fuck, baby... You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice dripping with lust. His fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

"I love seeing you like this... so needy, so ready..."

He pressed soft kisses to your thighs, inching closer to your core but deliberately avoiding it. The anticipation was driving you wild, and he could tell by the way your hips subtly shifted, seeking more contact. But Taehyung was in control, savouring the moment, letting the tension build.

"Do you know how badly I want to taste you right now?" he whispered against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "To feel you come undone on my tongue? I can’t wait to make you scream my name..."

His lips brushed just beside your folds, his tongue darting out to lick a tantalizing line along your thigh, avoiding your most sensitive spot by a mere inch. The teasing had you trembling, every nerve in your body alight with desire.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he groaned, his voice low and guttural. "I want to cum so hard that you forget your own name." He believed every single word with such determination that he surely would do everything he promised.

His closeness had just hit you. His handsome face was in between your thighs. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. One of your feet was touching his back while the other dangled in the air.

Oh, how the tables have turned. The sharp contrast of his hot breath against the coolness of your skin made every inch of you hyperaware, each nerve ending alive with a mix of desperation and surrender. His large hands gripped your hips, not just to hold you, but to claim you, grounding you in the moment and reminding you that this was his domain now.

Taehyung felt your shaky breaths, the way body tensed. He looked up at you from between your legs– a sight for sore eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with an underlying edge of frustration. “Tell me what you need.” His hands caressed your hips.

You avoided his gaze, your voice trembling as you admitted, “I– I’ve never come from oral before…”

Taehyung’s expression softened with understanding, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination. “It’s okay, baby,” he said gently. “I’m here to make sure you feel everything you need. Whether you cum or not, I’m going to savour every moment of eating you out.”

He leaned closer, his lips placed a small kiss on top of your pelvic bone. You groaned; your hips followed him.

“Allow me to explore you, baby. Please,” he murmured, his voice a low, comforting purr.

His confidence and tenderness washed over you, helping to calm your nerves only a bit. You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation of his touch. With a reassuring nod, you let go of the hesitation, trusting him completely.

“Or perhaps I should have made you pleasure yourself in front of me, just like you did for me,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing your inner folds, sending a wave of delicate shivers and hitches through your body. His breath was hot and teasing, skimming over your most sensitive spots without quite touching them.

His lips danced near your clit, your sweet opening, each breath he inhaled your scent and taste.

Since the beginning he let you control his body to your wish. By trusting that bratty thought, you pulled Taehyung straight to your core.

Yet, Taehyung remained steadfast.

His eyes locked onto yours with an intense, piercing gaze, every bit of his dominance conveyed through that single look. His brow arched with an almost imperceptible challenge, his expression one of commanding authority despite his position.

Your core gushed. If he were stimulating you, even a little bit, you were sure you would squirt out.

Taehyung started kissing around your lips when your sweet hole was covered in sticky juice. He began with soft, teasing kisses, against your most sensitive skin. “God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, his voice laced nothing but raw hunger. “You need my lips here, baby?” He asked but didn’t wait for your answer.

Your core clenched, your spine shivered every time he let his lips press against your core. Taehyung smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you in that moment. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you as he finally pressed a firm kiss to opening.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he muttered, his voice husky as his mouth filled with your taste. “I could spend forever down here, just tasting you, driving you wild until you can’t take it anymore.” With that, he dipped his tongue between your folds, moving slowly at first, savouring every drop of your wetness. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as your hips tried to move in their own.

He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, flicking strokes. His mouth worked you high and down. For a while he stayed face down in your core. His entire face was in contact with your core, which made you wetter than water.

He quite literally ate you like a dinner. He welcomed every single drop, drag, and push his tongue into every crevice.

Taehyung’s relentless focus on your core made it clear that this was maybe more about his pleasure than yours. And this fact didn’t make you mad at all. The way his tongue moved, the way he groaned and devoured you with such fervour—it was evident that he was utterly lost in the act. His lips, tongue, and even his nose dragged against your most sensitive skin, every movement calculated to keep you on the brink of madness.

You could feel how much he was enjoying it too. He was practically worshipping every inch of you with his mouth. His hands gripped your thighs with a possessive urgency, keeping you in place as if he couldn’t bear the thought of losing contact with you even for a second. He wasn’t just eating you out; he was indulging himself, drawing out every moan, every gasp, every drop of your arousal with a ravenous need that was both thrilling and overwhelming.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled against your slick skin, his voice hoarse with desire. He wasn’t just tasting you—he was savouring you, his tongue plunging deeper, swirling, flicking, exploring every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough.

Every time you tried to pull away, your body overwhelmed by the intensity, he would growl in protest, his hands tightening their grip, pulling you back to him. “Don’t you dare move, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He buried his face deeper, his tongue working you with a relentless rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. His moans vibrated through you, each one a reminder that he was doing this as much for his own pleasure as for yours. He was completely immersed in you, drinking in every bit of your essence like he was starved for it.

“God, I love this.” And then he was back at it, his mouth on you again, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough, like he never would.

You really wanted to orgasm from his mouth. You were crazy about this man. But every time you thought you might find some rhythm, he switched up his rhythm, keeping you on edge, driving you closer and closer to the brink.

Taehyung noticed the tension in your body, the way you were teetering on the edge but not quite able to tip over into the release you so desperately craved. His eyes flicked up to yours, a knowing glint in them, as if he could read your thoughts.

He decided without delay that it was time to push you over that edge. You have suffered enough of your own teasing. Also, he could tease you longer the next time.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he adjusted his grip on your hips, holding you firmly in place. His tongue began to work with an intensity that was almost overwhelming, circling and flicking your clit with a precision that had you gasping for breath. Each movement was deliberate, calculated, designed to bring you closer and closer to that elusive climax.

Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, your body trembling with the effort of holding on. "Taehyung, I- If you want me to cum– finger me," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with frustration and desperation.

Taehyung’s gaze never wavered, his smile shifting into something darker, more intense. “If that’s what you want…”

He had been pushing his long tongue in your hole, so you were fairly ready for him. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his middle finger into you, the motion slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch as he filled you.

The sensation was immediate, almost overwhelming, the pressure of his fingers against your inner walls sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

He didn’t rush. With his fingers buried deep inside you, he began to curl them with precision, searching for that spot he knew would make you unravel. His movements were purposeful, almost teasing, as if he were daring you to beg for more. All the while, his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, each touch calculated to push you closer to the edge.

"Is this what you craved, baby?" he murmured, his voice dripping with a mix of challenge and desire. "To feel my fingers inside you?” Your response was a choked moan, your hips arching off the bed, instinctively seeking more of his touch. Despite his calm demeanour, you were writhing on the bed, fisting the bedsheets and pillows.

Taehyung’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression a mix of intense focus and unrestrained desire. He watched your every movement, your writhings on the bed, and the way your hands fisted the bedsheets and pillows. The sight only fuelled his determination to push you further.

“Do you want another finger, baby?” he asked, his voice a sultry murmur as he curled his fingers inside you, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Without waiting for a response, he slipped a second finger in, stretching you gently, his movements smooth and deliberate.

He could feel your walls clenching around him, your body reacting to every touch with increasing desperation. Taehyung’s thumb continued its relentless dance on your clit.

His voice laced with a teasing edge, “Let’s see if you can cum now.” He didn’t wait for your reply. Instead, he bent his head lower, his lips capturing your clit with a hungry, determined fervour. His tongue flicked and swirled around it, sucking, and licking with a fervent intensity that had your body tensing and trembling under him.

As Taehyung’s lips enveloped your clit, a jolt of electrifying pleasure surged through you, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. His touch was relentless and insistent, each flick of his tongue pushing you further into a state of lustful delirium.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled against your sensitive flesh, his breath hot and moist. “I can’t get enough of you.” His words were rough, each syllable dripping with raw desire as his tongue licked and sucked with a fervent determination.

Your body arched instinctively towards him, hips thrusting up to meet his mouth, desperate for more. The sheets beneath you were tangled in your frantic movements, your hands clawing at them as if trying to hold onto the last shreds of control. Every stroke of his tongue felt like a wave crashing over you, dragging you deeper into the storm of pleasure.

“Please, Taehyung,” you begged, your voice ragged and trembling. “Don’t stop. I need this so badly. Please make me cum.” Your words were a mix of desperation and longing, a plea for the release that felt just out of reach.

Taehyung’s response was a low, approving groan, his mouth continuing its relentless assault. “You want it bad, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “In fact, you did since last night, right baby? I got your sweet pussy hot and bothered and didn’t fuck it.”

His fingers moved in sync with his tongue after he spitted filth. He thrusted in and out of you with a steady rhythm that had you stride towards your long-waited orgasm. The pressure inside you built with every pass of his tongue, each flick and swirl making your entire body shiver with anticipation.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cried out, the pleasure becoming almost too much to bear. “I’m so close.”

His tongue worked faster, harder, his mouth suctioning your clit in a way that had you almost screaming with need. “That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Let go. Cum all over my face.”

The combination of Taehyung’s relentless tongue and the steady thrust of his fingers sent you spiralling into an intense orgasm. You gasped and trembled, your body shaking with the overwhelming release. Taehyung didn’t let up, his mouth still working its magic on you, his fingers gently coaxing out every last bit of pleasure.

When your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud groan that bordered a scream. Taehyung’s room was at the top level of the house he shared with his friends. Even though these sort of noises like this were common among the boys, Taehyung despised the thought of his friends hearing you so vulnerable.

“Be quiet, baby.” He warned you despite knowing you were on clouds, enjoying the pure bliss he granted you.

At least that what Taehyung thought.

“Taehyung…” You gritted out. Your voice was shaky. Your body already went so soft under him.

“Baby?” Taehyung worriedly reciprocated. Were you mad?

“I– I cannot b-believe…” You took in a shaky breath.

Even though Taehyung had another serving of your delicious cunt in front of him, his worry came pass. He gently pulled back, releasing your legs from his grip, his face clouded with worry. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his voice laced with apprehension.

“Y-you made me cum… from— with your tongue…” You whispered.

Taehyung laid over you, this time his very naked body pressed on yours. His sweaty body pressed onto yours.

“Hmm…” He hummed as he kissed your shoulders.

“I never had that before…” You confessed. “I t-think it was a weak one but… still…”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed as he tried to process your words, his eyes searching yours for clarity. But before he could respond, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your juices were already dried around his lips.

Taehyung’s chest filled with compassion and love that he wanted to blurt out love poems for you, but you had other plans.

“I need you to fuck me.” You said directly, right at his face.

Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and eagerness. The initial shock of your direct request quickly gave way to a playful, almost goofy grin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, heated kiss.

“Mm, you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves and contours with a familiar, but now more focused, touch.

“You bring that out of me.” You said witty.

Taehyung’s smile widened; his amusement clear as he pressed another lingering kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured, his voice husky, “because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

As Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck, his mind wandered through the possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. The desire to take you was palpable, but he wanted to do it exactly right, to make sure every moment was perfect.

The first image that came to his mind was the classic missionary position. It was his favourite for so many reasons. He wanted to be close to you, to feel every shiver, every tremble as he moved inside you. The thought of looking into your eyes, seeing the raw pleasure on your face as he thrust into you, sent a thrill through him. He imagined whispering in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, his voice low and thick with desire. He knew how much you loved that, the way his words would send you over the edge. And if you got too loud—something he expected, considering how close you already were—he could cover your mouth with his hand, muffling your cries as he continued to drive you both toward ecstasy.

But then, another position crossed his mind. He pictured you lying on your side, with him spooning you from behind. It was intimate, close, and it allowed him to take you deeply while keeping you enveloped in his arms. The idea of holding you like that, his chest pressed against your back, his hand sliding down to play with your clit while he thrust into you, was incredibly enticing. You could do some cock-warming which he would greatly enjoy. Maybe it would calm you down slightly.

And then there was the third option, one he couldn’t get out of his head—he wanted to see you on top of him, riding him. The idea of you taking control, moving at your own pace, was a fantasy he’d played out in his mind many times. He wanted to watch you, your body moving above him, your hands resting on his chest as you guided him deeper inside you. But as he kissed you, feeling the way your body trembled with anticipation, he realized you were already too delirious with need for that. You were on the brink, your mind clouded with desire, and he knew that right now, you needed him to take control.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, his lips never left your skin, his hands still roaming over your body.

“Taehyung,” you whispered, trying to catch his attention, but he was lost in the rhythm of his own thoughts, his lips now brushing along your collarbone.

His response was a low, distracted hum, his focus still on the way your skin tasted under his lips.

You were growing impatient, your need for him intensifying with every passing second.

That was it. Your frustration peaked, and with a surge of determination, you pushed him off you, sending him back onto his ass. For a moment, he assumed you wanted to take control, to ride him into oblivion, and his cocky grin spread wider across his face as he prepared himself for your move. He leaned back, propping himself up on his hands, fully expecting you to climb onto him and take what you wanted.

But you had something entirely different in mind.

Without a word, you turned around, getting on all fours in front of him. You arched your back, pushing your ass out toward him, an invitation so blatant it made his breath hitch. The sight of you like that, so open, so ready, was enough to make his cock throb with need. His eyes darkened as he took in the view, the way your wetness glistened, the way your body trembled with anticipation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with lust. The cocky confidence in his demeanour only intensified as he moved closer, his hands sliding over your hips, gripping them possessively. “Look at you… so eager, so fucking desperate for it.”

He ran his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh firmly, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave a mark. The way you pushed back against him, the way you presented yourself, made him lose the last shred of restraint he had.

Without waiting for your next move, he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. He teased you with it, rubbing it against your slick folds, making you whimper with need.

Taehyung tried to line himself up behind you, eager to push into your warmth, but he noticed something that made him pause. You were a bit too low, and instead of sinking inside, the tip of his cock brushed frustratingly against your ass.

Even though he was as eager for your puckered hole, he needed your cunt first.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “You’re too short, baby,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulled back slightly. “How am I supposed to fuck you properly like this?”

Before you could respond, he moved with swift determination, his strong hands grabbing your waist and lifting you up slightly. He shifted your position, effortlessly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. “Hold still,” he murmured, his voice filled with both amusement and lust.

Taehyung reached for a couple of pillows, tossing them down in front of you. He quickly rolled up a blanket, adding it to the makeshift mound. With a gentle push, he urged you to lean forward, guiding you to rest your chest on the soft pile, elevating your hips just enough to give him the perfect angle.

“There we go,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, admiring the way your ass was now perfectly presented for him. The new position made you even more vulnerable, your back arched and your body slightly elevated, just as he wanted.

His hands slid back to your hips, gripping them possessively as he positioned himself behind you again. “Much better,” he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Now, you’re right where I want you.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he leaned down over you, his chest pressing against your back as he brought his lips close to your ear. He kissed your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the roughness that had just transpired. His breath was warm against your skin as he whispered, “Are you comfy, baby?”

You wrapped your hand back around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, a soft moan escaping your lips.

He was all over you. His weight pressed you down to the mattress so sweetly as if your bones were craving his touch. His presence consumed and grounded you. You pulled him closer, fingers tightening in his hair, not wanting to lose even an inch of contact.

Taehyung’s breath was hot against your cheek, each exhale sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, firm and steady, moved over your waist, tracing the curve of your hips. You could feel the roughness of his fingertips, the deliberate way he touched you, as if memorizing your shape. There was no rush in his movements, only a deep, aching intensity.

You arched slightly, pressing back against him, seeking more of his warmth. He responded with a low hum, his lips brushing your ear, a soft and almost teasing touch. Every moment felt heavy, charged with a raw energy that made your heart pound in your chest.

The intimacy of his touch, combined with the warmth of his breath, made your heart race and your body ache with desire.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and vulnerability. “Please…”

Taehyung’s lips curled into a satisfied smile against your skin. “Are you going to tell me if you feel uncomfy?”

Your back arched, a frustrated whimper escaping you as you managed a breathy, “God, yes!”

“Good.” he murmured, his voice both commanding and soothing.

He kissed down your shoulders, as far as his position allowed, each touch of his lips a mix of tenderness and hunger. The way his mouth moved over your skin was a stark contrast to the tension in the air, the gentle kisses only heightening the anticipation of what was to come.

You let out a deep, satisfied groan, your body responding instinctively to his touch. “Ugh, I should definitely make you give me a massage sometime,” you murmured, your voice filled with both admiration and a hint of playful demand.

Taehyung’s hands continued their rhythmic motion, a smile curling on his lips at your words. “Whenever you want, baby. I am at your service.” he replied.

When his touch moved closer to your hips, his breath grew heavier, and his teasing touches became more purposeful. His cock, which never came down, was hard and aching. He brushed against your entrance, the tip teasingly grazing your wet folds. Each slight contact sent waves of pleasure through you and him. Both of you needed a few moments before another touch.

He shifted slightly, positioning himself with practiced ease. The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, teasing you with its proximity. “How does my dick feel against you, baby?” he asked, his tone filled with a mix of arrogance and longing.

“Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice dark with authority. “Beg for me to fuck you like you did last night.”

You moaned, your voice trembling with desperation as you pushed back against him, trying to impale yourself on his cock. “Please, Taehyung… I need you. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Please, I’m begging you.”

The sound of your pleas sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. He thrust into you with one powerful motion, burying himself deep inside you, the force of it knocking the breath out of you. The sensation was overwhelming, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain, and you cried out his name, your voice filled with unrestrained ecstasy.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with lust. “You are somehow infatuated with my dick, aren’t you, you filthy girl?”

Taehyung didn’t hold back after your desperate mewl. His hands gripped your hips tightly. The tight hold hid how his hands shook. Your ass fit snuggly as he pushed himself in very slowly.

His breath hitched as he began to push in, inch by inch, feeling the warmth of you envelop him. It was almost too much—the way you fit around him, so perfectly snug, as if made just for him.

Taehyung’s grip on your hips somewhat. He wanted to savour this moment. He needed to memorise every single crevice that he could touch. He needed to feel you with five sense he had. A low groan escaped his lips as he pushed in further, every slow movement making his heart pound harder. He could feel the tremble in his own thighs, shaking like noodles.

His slow, deliberate thrusts made you feel every inch of him. He was big—almost too big—and you could feel every ridge and curve as he pushed in deeper, the fullness bordering on overwhelming.

It didn’t hurt physically. You were plentily wet and seriously gaping for him. It was the teasing that drove you into frustration. It was the way he moved, controlled and precise, making sure you remembered he was the one in charge.

“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung murmured, his voice thick with arousal. His breath was throaty, and you could hear the strain in his voice as he struggled to maintain control. “Can you feel how deep I am, baby? How I’m filling you up completely?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your body reacting instinctively as you pushed back against him, trying to take him even deeper. The pressure was intense, almost too much, but it was exactly what you craved.

He tsked when you tried to force, “Nah, baby. We can’t have you split open.” He looked at where you meet.

The sight before him was intense. He saw the way his cock stretched you, the flush of your skin blending with the dark red of his own. Your petals, slick with your arousal, parted around him, struggling to accommodate his girth. The delicate, glistening folds framed him perfectly. He could see the faint shimmer of your essence as it mixed with the base of his cock, creating a sensual, wet contrast that drove him wild.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, vibrating through your back where his chest pressed against you. “Fuck, you’re so tight around me,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation. “It’s like you’re made for my cock. You’re taking me so well, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the rawness of them only amplifying the sensations coursing through you. Taehyung’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you in place, his thrusts becoming more deliberate even though he was not fully in.

You could feel the distance between his crotch and your ass. He was definitely not letting you take all of him. The size of him was concerning. He did take his time to get you ready, which was totally hot of him. Whenever he pushed further than before, it made you feel as if you were about to come apart at the seams.

You gasped, your breath hitching as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. “You’re so big,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of awe and pleasure. “I can feel you everywhere.”

Taehyung chuckled softly, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction. “Is that so, baby?” he whispered softly, his voice sending a thrill through your body. He pulled his dick out to see your gaping hole. You were right. He was stretching you out. With a sudden forceful thrust, he pushed himself in. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”

“Taehyung!” you cried out, your voice high and desperate, your hands flew to grab his but failed.

Taehyung didn’t answer to your loud ass scream other than soothing rubs.

Again, he pulled back slightly, just enough to relieve you with the emptiness before thrusting back in, filling you completely once more. The stretch was almost too much but so sweet.

You seemed to better accommodate his length now. Your muscles clenched around him, trying to wrap around his size.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you moaned, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. “You are really something else.”

“Shh,” he hushed you. “This was what you were begging for.”

His words were like a drug. Each thrust was deliberate, slow, and intense, his cock dragging against your walls, making you hyper-aware of every inch of him. You could feel your own wetness coating him, making the glide easier, but no less overwhelming.

“How much left?” You pulled yourself up on your hands, managing to turn your head slightly to glance back at Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes were locked on where you met, his gaze dark with lust as he watched himself move inside you. He winked when you made eye contact.

His muscles were tensed, each movement of his body revealing the defined contours of his chest and shoulders. He looked like he was in the middle of a workout with the way his arms flexed as he gripped your hips, the way his torso moved with each thrust.

Taehyung’s breath was ragged, each exhale matching the rhythm of his movements, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strained as he held back, maintaining that agonizingly slow pace. “Not much baby. You’re doing good. You are perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”

Your body responded to his praise, tightening around him, drawing him in even deeper. The fullness was almost too much, and yet you craved more, wanted to be stretched to your limit. The sensation of him filling you so completely made you feel like you were on the edge of something profound, and you knew that with just a little more, you would tip over that edge into pure bliss.

There were no slapping sounds still as Taehyung continued to hold back. To match up to his movements, you started to push your ass. He smiled, stilled his thrust. He decided to let you pick your pace to ease any pain he might cause.

You groaned annoyingly when he came into a full stop, and you quickened your pace. The bedding under you shook as you tried your best to fuck yourself on his cock.

“Oh, baby…” Taehyung’s voice was low and filled with an edge of approval.

“You’re so eager,” he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and satisfaction. “Look at that ass.” He couldn’t help but give your ass a slap, watching it bounce .

“You’re fucking me so good, baby,” he murmured, the words slipping out in a tone that was almost submissive, but you knew better. He was playing a game, one you both loved.

He let out a soft whine, his hips rolling into you just enough to make you crave more. “You’re in control,” he said, his voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. “Make me yours, fuck me how you want…”

His words were like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a fire deep within you. The power he was giving you, or rather pretending to give you, made your blood sing with excitement. You pushed back against him, trying to force him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him inside you. But he could see how you were struggling and striving to meet his every thrust now that his strong hold didn’t ground you still. The soft mattress made you shaky.

You pushed back against him with all the strength you could muster, trying to find a rhythm, but the soft mattress made it difficult. Your movements were unsteady, your body shaky as you struggled to keep up with the game Taehyung was playing. His cock was deep inside you, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, craved the intensity that only he could give you.

A small, frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and Taehyung’s soft laugh filled the space between you. He could see how hard you were trying, how desperately you wanted to take control, but he wasn’t going to let you have it. Not really.

“Is that the best you can do?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “Come on, baby, show me how much you want it.”

You tried again, pushing back harder, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, but he just watched you with that smug smile on his face. The effort it took was exhausting, your muscles straining as you attempted to match his pace, but every time you thought you had it, he’d pull back, just enough to throw you off balance.

“Is it difficult, baby?” He asked mockingly.

Finally, with a low, satisfied hum, Taehyung shifted. His hands gripped your hips again, this time with a firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers dug into your flesh, grounding you, holding you in place.

Taehyung’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he anchored you against him. The sudden, commanding hold sent a shockwave of anticipation through your body. You could feel the heat of his breath on the back of your neck, each exhale a reminder of how close he was, how deep he was inside you. The softness of the mattress underneath you only heightened the sensation of his firm touch, the contrast making every movement feel more intense.

He leaned in, his chest pressing against your back as his hand slowly slid up your spine, fingers tracing each vertebra with a deliberate slowness. The touch was almost reverent, a stark contrast to the roughness of his hold on your hips. You felt the way your body responded to him, how your skin tingled under his touch, every nerve ending alive with the need for more.

“You feel so fucking good,” Taehyung murmured, his voice low and filled with a raw edge that sent a shiver through you. “I can feel you tightening around me, baby. You want to cum, don’t you?”

You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching as he pulled back slightly, only to thrust into you with a controlled, powerful motion. The force of it made you gasp, your fingers clutching at the sheets as you tried to ground yourself. But there was no escaping the sensation of him filling you so completely, the pressure almost overwhelming.

Taehyung’s hand reached up to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. With a firm but careful tug, he pulled your head back, arching your spine in a way that made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet completely connected to him. The sensation of your back arching under his control sent a wave of pleasure through you, the pull on your hair only heightening the intensity.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction. “You’re mine. Every inch of you, mine to fuck, mine to make cum.”

His words sent a shudder through you, the rawness of his tone matching the way your body trembled under his control. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat syncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The fullness of him inside you, the way his body moved against yours, the rough pull of your hair—it all combined to create a sensation so intense, so overwhelming, that you felt like you were about to unravel.

“Cum for me,” Taehyung commanded, his voice deep and authoritative, leaving no room for hesitation. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

The command sent you spiralling, the tight coil of pleasure in your core snapping as you tumbled over the edge. “Baby…” You whimpered as your body convulsed around him, your walls tightening, gripping him as you came with a force that took your breath away. A cry escaped your lips, your entire body shuddering in his hold as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

Taehyung let out a deep, primal groan, the sound vibrating through his chest as he felt you clench around him. The way your body tightened, trembling, and squeezing him, drove him over the edge. With one final, powerful thrust, he pulled your hair tighter, holding you in place as he came hard, filling you to the brim with every drop. His body shuddered as he emptied himself inside you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room being the heavy breaths you both shared, the lingering echoes of your release hanging in the air. Slowly, his grip on your hair loosened, his hand trailing down your back as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your shoulder, a soft contrast to the intensity of what had just transpired. Then, slowly, Taehyung pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You were still trembling slightly, the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through your body as you lay there, wrapped in Taehyung’s arms. His warmth surrounded you, the strong beat of his heart steady against your back, grounding you in the moment. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your breathing slowly calming in sync, the earlier intensity now replaced by a peaceful stillness.

Taehyung’s hand moved up to your face, his fingers brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the firm, commanding hold he’d had on you just moments ago. He pressed another kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice still a little rough from the exertion. There was a tenderness in his tone now, a softness that made your heart swell.

You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his. The intensity in his gaze had softened, replaced by something more intimate, more vulnerable. You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m more than okay.”

His lips curved into a lazy smile, one that made your chest tighten with affection. “Good,” he murmured, his hand trailing down your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Because you just took everything I had to give.”

You chuckled softly, the sound easing the last of the tension that had been coiled in your muscles. “I could say the same to you,” you teased, your fingers brushing over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

He let out a contented hum, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a protective hold. “I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out so naturally, so effortlessly, that it took a moment for them to fully register.

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. His eyes were soft, filled with an emotion so deep and genuine that it made your breath catch. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt—just the pure, unfiltered truth of how he felt.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. The words felt right, as if they’d been waiting to be spoken, to be shared in this quiet, intimate moment.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss, one that spoke of everything you’d just shared and everything you would continue to share. It wasn’t the enthusiastic, desperate kiss from before, but something deeper, more profound—a kiss that sealed a promise, a bond that had only grown stronger.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-closed as he basked in the afterglow of the moment. “What do you wanna have for breakfast?” he said softly, his breath warm against your lips.

You smiled up at him, still catching your breath, your heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm. “How about I take you to my favourite brunch place? It’s on me,” you offered, your voice soft and content. The thought of sharing a lazy morning together, enjoying good food and each other’s company, made your chest feel warm.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with interest, a grin spreading across his face. “That sounds perfect,” he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“But first… maybe we should catch a little more sleep,” you added with a yawn, feeling the pull of exhaustion from the intensity of the night.

Without another word, he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together comfortably on the soft mattress. His arm wrapped around you, drawing you into his warmth as your eyes fluttered shut. Within moments, you felt yourself drifting off, your head nestled against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

And as you both fell asleep, the promise of a cozy morning and a delicious brunch hung in the air, waiting for you when you woke up.

————

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1l0v3y0ud0ntl3av3me · 9 days

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「YANDERE VILLIAN × FEM! READER」

A/N: This is for the girlies, sorry to the other pooks. This one is a bit intense. In emotional sense. Technically this guy is an bnha oc of mine saur..

【DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT🕊】

TW: Degrading, misogyny, non-con, implied long time non-con, betrayal from friend, two-faced mf, etc.

You couldn't take it anymore. The constant violation, the relentless manipulation—it was all too much. You had to expose Jun, had to make someone believe you. So, you went to your friend, your confidante, and poured out your heart. You told her everything: the way Jun would use his Quirk on you, how he would force himself on you, and the way he would leave you feeling empty and used.

As you cried, she listened, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. When you finished, she promised to help you. You clung to that promise, desperate for someone to be on your side.

The next time Jun and your friend met, he noticed the tension between you two. He could see the disdain in her eyes, and he knew he had to act fast. With a smile on his face, he pulled her aside, his voice low and soothing. "Hey, I've heard you've been talking to my girlfriend," he said, feigning concern. "I'm worried she's got the wrong impression. She's just jealous, you know how women can be."

Your friend, believing his side of the story, turned on you. She confronted you, accusing you of lying and causing trouble. Betrayed and heartbroken, you were left with no one to turn to.

Unbeknownst to you, Jun had been using his Quirk on her, subtly influencing her thoughts and emotions, making her doubt your story. He enjoyed the power he held over her, and it only fueled his desire to control and dominate.

One day, when you were alone with Jun, he decided you needed a 'reminder' of your place. He forced you into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind you. His eyes were filled with a mix of anger and desire, and you knew there was no escaping what was to come.

He began by mocking you, calling you ungrateful and saying how much you enjoyed his advances. "You're always so tight, like you want it," he sneered. You tried to protest, but he silenced you with a rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands roamed your body.

Jun then used his Quirk on you, sending shivers down your spine and making your body betray you. "Looks like your body can't help itself, huh?" he teased, as your nipples hardened and your pussy grew wet with desire. He tore off your clothes, leaving you completely naked before him.

"You're such a tight little slut," he growled, his voice thick with lust. He bent you over a desk, your hands pressed against the cold surface as he positioned himself behind you.

He thrust into you without warning, his thick cock stretching you wide open. You cried out in pain, but he didn't care. "Shut up, you love it," he snapped, as he began to pump in and out of you, his grip on your hips tightening with each thrust.

"You were made for this," he snarled, slapping your ass. You felt humiliated and violated, his cock filling you up, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

He forced you to look at the sight of his cock entering you, your face contorting in pain. Jun's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he fucked you harder and faster, his cock sliding in and out of your tight hole.

He was relentless, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your orgasm building up inside you, even though you desperately wished it wouldn't. Jun leaned down, his hot breath against your ear as he whispered, "Cum for me, [Name]."

You clenched your teeth, trying to hold back, but it was no use. Jun's words, combined with the intense pleasure he was inflicting, sent you over the edge. You cried out as an orgasm ripped through your body, your pussy clenching around his cock.

This only served to push Jun over the edge as well. He groaned loudly, his cock pulsating inside you as he came, filling you with his hot seed. He pulled out, leaving you on the desk, your body shaking, and your mind reeling from the violation.

Jun stood over you, his cock glistening with your fluids, before licking his lips. He leaned down and trailed his tongue along your cheek, smirking as he said, "Remember who you belong to, hm?"

424 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 8 months

Text

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

missqhughes · 26 days

Text

IS SHE REALLY YOURS? | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn x jacksgf!reader

-> contains: mentions of sex and sexual acts, verbal fights, cheating, teasing, ocs created for the plot, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: y/n swears to herself and quinn that jack will never know what happened between them. however, as jack’s actions become even more questionable, quinn starts to drop hints about what he did to his girlfriend the night before, showing him two can play at the same game.

-> the HIGHLY requested pt 2 to can he get you like this! god i love this plot soooo much. don’t know if i would hate to be in this situation or adore it 🫥 anyway, hope you love it as much as i do!

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n knew it was wrong.

that she fucked her boyfriends older brother. how much she enjoyed it, how good he made her feel. that she loved how it sounded when he moaned her name. that she slept in quinn’s bed in his boxers, she felt a comfort in him holding her close in his unconscious state.

y/n attempted to reach over quinn to grab his phone, afraid that she had woken up too late and leaving quinn’s room would mean certain, immediate trouble.

quinn shifted, waking up and witnessing her crawling on top of him, reaching for the side table, and ultimately failing to do so.

“well, good morning to you too, what are you doing?”

quinn’s sleepy voice was like music to her ears, “sorry, i just wanted to see what time it is,” she said, backing up to lay on her side, partly embarrassed that quinn caught her in the act.

quinn let out a chuckle, brushing the hair away from her face, then holding the nape of her neck to bring her into a sweet kiss.

he inhaled with satisfaction, “you don’t need to know what time it is,” he mumbled against her lips, breaking away to place a kiss on her jawline.

“i do, it’s going to look pretty bad if jack is awake and i come out of your room. especially looking… like this.” y/n remarked, her chest branded with quinn’s mark.

quinn briefly looked at his phone screen, “it’s 7:50, still pretty early. you should be good,”

y/n felt a relief, thinking the worst, that it was later in the morning and everyone else was already awake and that she would have to bring the million dollar excuse to the table of why she was coming out of quinn’s room instead of her own, or jacks.

y/n got up off the bed to look for her shirt and shorts, only to realize that her shirt was still splayed over the kitchen counter.

“fuck”, she whispered to herself, cursing at her forgetfulness.

“can you go get my shirt from the kitchen? i don’t want to walk out there in just a bra and shorts.”

got up and ruffled his hair, his broad shoulders displaying just noticeable scratch marks down them. instead of leaving the room, he went into his closet.

“just wear one of mine,” he said casually,

y/n knew he wasn’t going to get it, and she sure as hell wasn’t either. no one was going to see her in it, so who cares?

quinn tossed her an oversized shirt, a grey one with the classic canucks logo on it. she shot him a look,

“seriously? quinn i cant wear this. what am i going to say to jack if he sees this in my room?” she held the t-shirt in her hands, flustered just at the thought of wearing quinn’s shirt.

“you’ll be fine, you worry too much,” quinn was so casual in his demeanor, some may say it was off putting, but that’s just how he was.

y/n slipped the shirt over her head, engulfed by quinn’s familiar and newly intoxicating scent.

“see you for breakfast then?” she said, standing by the door, holding out the boxers he lent her the night before.

“always,” he said, taking the boxers from her hand before biting his lip and slapping her ass as she left his room.

“quinn!”

“sorry, just had to,” quinn laughed, then closed the door behind her.

was any of this real? she thought to herself.

y/n quietly shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing her shirt that was, in fact, splayed over the kitchen counter. she hurried back to her room in a quiet run, softly closing the door and finally letting out the breath she was holding in.

she took off quinn’s shirt and replaced it with her own, his scent still lingering on her. y/n’s mind went blank, wondering how everything was going to be from now on. sure, jack didn’t know. he will never know. but now that she had done this with quinn, what does that mean for them?

she knew she couldn’t have them both, that she couldn’t just end things with jack just to move on to his older brother.

y/n snapped out of it, shoving quinn’s shirt deep into her dresser, where hopefully no one would find it.

——————————————————————————

10:23am

y/n thought this was a safe enough time to leave her room, this being the hour she usually emerges to the living room. but this time she had been up for hours before hand, laying down, a million thoughts firing at once.

she walked down to the kitchen, no quinn or jack, or alana in sight, just april and luke.

“morning guys, the others aren’t up yet?”

luke yawned, “morning, quinn isn’t up but alana and jack are.”

y/n tried her best to keep a poker face, but she felt her heart sink at hearing that they were up but no where in sight.

“oh. where’s jack then?”

she didn’t give a shit about where alana was, as long as it wasn’t with jack.

“he took her out on the jetski, they left like 10 minutes ago,” april let out quickly, avoiding eye contact with y/n.

great.

in almost weird, perfect timing, both quinn came out of his room as alana and jack came up from the dock.

a few good mornings were shared, jack walking over to y/n sitting at the kitchen barstool, placing a quick soft kiss on her cheek. quinn smirked while watching, her head dipping down slightly to hide the pink hue dressed on her face.

jack, for once in his life it seemed like, noticed, and he gave quinn a weird look.

“what’s up with you bud?” he smiled, passing his older brother in the kitchen.

quinn poured himself coffee, back to his brother, covering the devilish smile he had on his face.

“nothing, just slept really good last night, ya know? bed felt extra comfortable,” he said casually, sipping his coffee then facing jack with a nonchalant look.

y/n held her breath, thinking she was going to pass out either from lack of air or whatever the fuck game quinn was playing.

she was so focused on the interaction playing out in front of them, she didn’t notice the other three leaving, april tugging her friend into luke’s room, and him by the door listening to their conversation.

thankfully jack thought nothing of quinn’s remark, and he chuckled at his brother, “yeah i get you. all of us should get down to the water, it’s a super nice day out.”

he would know that. he’s already been out with alana today.

but she couldn’t go out today. not with the situation going on with her chest.

“i’ll probably just stay in-”

“-how about a boat day? i’ll come with this time. all of us.” quinn was quick to cut her off, and she couldn’t control the eye roll that came after.

jack nodded in agreement, “i’ll go tell the others,”

god, what did she get herself in to?

——————————————————————————

the weather was perfect, a calm summer day to pair with the pure anxiety she had on this boat ride. a secret under her shirt, and thankfully, quinn had his on too.

everything was fine for the most part, she was sitting next to jack, legs resting on his lap, and his arm gently draped over them.

the only thing that wasn’t fine, was that alana was still wearing his fucking hat. that she was taking pictures in it, and that they just could not stop talking to each other.

y/n looked at quinn’s focused expression steering the boat, and he looked back at her, then glancing at jack and alana. he slowed the boat, until it came to a complete stop.

“we should anchor here, too nice to not swim,”

she held her breath, again.

and to her horror, quinn peeled his shirt off, scratch marks in full visibility across his back.

luke was the first to notice, “dude, did you fuck someone last night?” after luke’s comment, the rest of them all turned their heads to see what he was talking about.

“damn Q, you’re an animal,” jack followed, “when did you leave the house to smash?”

“i didn’t, she came to ours.”

y/n’s heart stopped.

“who?” april asked, everyone curious about quinn’s secret woman of the night.

“yeah quinn, who?” y/n asked, gaze not leaving him, clenching her thumbs in her hands to prevent anyone seeing them from shaking.

“not telling. wanna see where it goes. but she lives really close,” he dived into the water, luke and april following after.

god what was he doing? does he think this is funny?

jack tapped her legs, signaling her to move, and she did. he walked towards the edge of the boat, noticing y/n didn’t soon follow after.

“you’re not going to get in? you love swimming,”

guilt hit her like a truck.

“i really dont feel well, i think swimming will just make me feel sicker,” she lied through her teeth, wrapping her arms around her body to sweeten the lie.

“don’t worry, i’ll swim with you jack!” a piercing voice said, y/n scoffed as alana skipped to where jack was, pushing him in.

she looked back at y/n, the two holding eye contact for just a moment before jack grabbed alana’s arm and pulled her into the water.

whatever.

the guilt was fading away, and as y/n looked out into the water, she didn’t notice april looking at her with a face of concern.

——————————————————————————

the ride back to the house brought familiar feelings back to her.

quinn decided to keep his shirt off, which she knew was 100%, undeniably, intentional. her evidence on him was on display for everyone, and her mind faded in a daydream of clawing into his back, pornographic moans emitting from her lips, all while he fucked her senselessly.

she needed to be alone.

y/n didn’t wait for anyone, instead booking it straight back into the house. she threw herself onto her bed, groaning into the plush pillows as she gripped her hair so tight she thought she might rip it out.

in her tantrum of panic, there was a knock at her door.

she didn’t know who she was hoping it was. jack? quinn? both?

neither.

it was april.

“hey,” she smiled softly at y/n before speaking again, “can we talk?”

“yeah, of course,” y/n held open the door to let april in to her room, the girl sitting on the edge of the bed, tensed up.

she never hated april. she actually found her really nice, thought she was a good fit for luke. they’d always gotten along, even going on double dates with her and jack.

“are you okay? what’s up?” she sat next to her, crossing her legs on the bed.

april inhaled deeply, in contemplation of her words.

“y/n, there’s something you should know.”

her heart stopped.

“what is it?”

“jack… and alana. i know she’s my friend but you deserve to know this. i mean you’ve seen it yourself she’s been throwing herself at jack this whole time. i keep telling her to stop but she just won’t, and i think they might have kissed on the dock.”

she felt like she was going to pass out, her throat burning with heartache. it hurt extra because she had no right to feel this way. she was the one who cheated on him first. or did she even? it was an impossible situation.

“how do you know?”

y/n could tell april was trying not to cry, her own personal guilt coming out, “the other day, when you went to your room after dinner, alana and jack went down to the dock, just the two of them. i could see through the windows he was leaned over her, and she had her hand on his chest. that’s why i don’t know if they did for sure, and alana refuses to tell me.”

any guilt, all guilt she had in her situation was gone. at least she had the reservations to cheat on the low, and not be so embarrassingly blatant about it.

she hated it. she hated him.

y/n contemplated in this moment what she should do. should she tell april what her and quinn did? that they were both just another chain in the link of cheaters?

she was going to fake sadness, but the tears flew out unconsciously.

“thank you for telling me. i appreciate it.”

april nodded, and the two held a long, comforting hug.

“you’re welcome, and i’m sorry. i don’t know what you want to do but she’ll be gone in a few days, if you wanted to confront jack then.”

“yeah, good idea,” april gave her one last smile before getting up,

“i’ll be down by the water if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

y/n gave her a thumbs up, and with a gentle click of the lock, april left.

she waited a couple minutes, enough time for her to be gone, then shuffled over to quinn’s room. his door was shut and there was no noise to be heard, but she prayed he would answer when she knocked.

and he did.

“hey, hey, what happened?” his look softened, instinctively holding her face in hands, wiping her tear ridden face.

“jack cheated. he fucking cheated before we even did anything quinn. that night… the night i went to my room, he kissed her, he kissed alana on the dock. he was almost on top of her and she had her hand on his chest.”

her voice trembled, she held up her hands to hold quinn’s arms to keep her standing, feeling that if she didn’t, she would come crumbling to the floor.

quinn’s soft expression quickly morphed into a look of anger,

“how do you know that?”

“april told me,” y/n sobbed.

“oh, y/n,” he pulled her into his room, engulfing her in a hug, resting his face on the top of her head as he rubbed gentle circles on her back.

“everything’s going to be fine, okay? it’s gonna be just fine. do you trust me?”

she looked up at him with glossy eyes, not a hint of deceit in his face.

“yes, i trust you quinn.”

he kissed the tip of her nose, her tear stained cheeks, then her puffy red lips.

“good. lay down with me for now, i don’t want you upset all alone,”

she nodded, taking quinn’s hand and following to his bed, where he wrapped the blanket and himself around her, soothing the hiccuping sobs while massaging her body, and whispering that she was okay, and he was here.

——————————————————————————

y/n woke up in quinn’s bed.

but he was nowhere to be found.

stretching and rubbing her puffy eyes, she got up from the warm comfort of quinn’s bed. creaking open the door to see if anyone was up. when the coast was clear, y/n slipped out of quinn’s room and down to the main level.

she was greeted with everyone else, luke and quinn in the kitchen cooking dinner, and the others resting around the living room.

quinn looked over at y/n, waving her over to the kitchen.

“quite the napper recently aren’t you?” he joked, leaning his body slightly towards her, “you okay?” he whispered.

“i’m fine,” she said back, quinn holding her waist for just a few seconds then back to the cutting board before anyone could notice.

“go relax, dinner will be ready soon,”

she jokingly saluted him, taking the empty seat next to april on the couch, luke and jack occupying the chairs whilst they played video games.

she gave her a side hug, and y/n rested her head softly on april’s shoulder. her eyes glanced to alana, who was already looking at her, jaw tight and a deep look of annoyance on her face.

cant wait for a great family dinner.

——————————————————————————

y/n actually felt okay enough to talk.

it felt like everything was back to the way it was before, everyone was in the conversation. laughing, joking, enjoying it all together.

“so Q, you gotta tell us, who’s the chick you hooked up with?” jack asked, still rolling in curiously over who his older brother secretly had in his bed.

aaaaand there it was. back to reality.

quinn wiped his mouth and looked at jack coldly, “why do you want to know so bad?”

everyone looked taken aback at quinn’s defensive reaction,

“chill, i was just wondering. we all were trying to think of who it could be but came up blank.”

luke chimed in, “is she hot?”

“very.”

she could hear her heart beat pounding into her ears.

“how did you meet?”

“through someone else.”

“was it good?”

“even better than i imagined in my head.”

y/n’s chest felt like that of a hummingbird, unable to slow the pulse of her heart.

quinn crossed his arms on the table, “actually, i have a question for you jack.”

god, why was he doing this now? couldn’t he wait a few days?

“yeah?”

“what were you doing at the dock with alana the other night?”

here we fucking go.

jack stared blankly at quinn, the whole table fell into silence. his brother stared back, his expression unwavering.

“what are you talking about?”

“you two were there. her hand was on your chest, you were all over her. what’s up with that?”

jack stared at his brother blankly, placing his hand on y/n’s thigh with a soft squeeze.

“baby it’s not true, i promise. he’s lying,”

“i saw it for myself. alana?” quinn shifted the conversation to her, clearly annoyed that jack disregarded his question.

alana said nothing, jacks head whipping around to look at her, pleading blue eyes filled with nothing but guilt. she took her head in her hands, and just barely nodded in confession.

jack begun to panic, moving his hand up to caress y/n’s face, anything to save himself.

“baby i promise it’s not what you think. you’re all mine, i-”

“is she though?” quinn stood, leaning over the table slightly, a dark sound in his voice.

“what the hell are you talking about quinn?”

“you know… last night, she cried to me. cried to me about how shitty you were being, how little love you were giving her, how little attention gave to her. so i did.”

if looks could kill, jack and quinn would have matching wounds.

“what are you getting at?”

“i fucked her. in my bed. yeah, she was so fucking sexy moaning my name, i even made her cum. hard. ever get her like that jack? hm?”

no one else could say a word. luke’s mouth was hung open in shock, april’s covered by two hands, and alana with an unreadable expression.

y/n turned away, unable to look him in the eye,

“is all this true? look at me.”

she refused, instead nodding with a quivering lip, tears coating her closed lashes.

jack scoffed, “unbelievable, you are fucking unbelievable,” he was stood up now too, a hand gripped through his hair.

that’s when her emotions turned into a complete 180, appalled at his words,

“me? i’m unbelievable? you just spent the past couple days flirting with alana, come to find out you kissed her, and you think you get the only right to be mad? you need to fucking leave.”

“leave, you know this is also my house right?”

“jack…” luke’s voice trailed off, disappointment lingering, “you should go.”

“you’re kidding?”

“no. go to your apartment in jersey, go to mom and dads, anywhere, but you can’t be here for the rest of the summer.”

jack rubbed a hand on his mouth before slamming his fists on the table, grabbing alana’s hand, and ascending up to his room, likely to pack all their things.

y/n’s silent tears now turned into loud sobs, paining her each time she took a breath. quinn held her first, april and luke soon to wrap their arms around the pair too.

——————————————————————————

cleaning up after dinner was silent.

no one dared to speak, the loudest noise in the room being the familiar soft hum of the refrigerator.

they had all made their way to the living room after, y/n with her legs pulled up to her chest, leaned on quinn, the well known crumbling feeling just around the corner from her.

about an hour had passed since jack and alana went up, and now footsteps trailed down, them both emerging with packed suit cases.

together? who knows.

who cares.

the silence was still kept when they stepped towards the door, y/n only standing up when jack looked at her.

“hope you realize he just used you. used you because you were vulnerable, and easy. don’t forget that.”

the door slammed shut.

“you two definitely need some time alone,” april said softly, fiddling with the fingers in her lap.

“agreed, we’re gonna go to my room, you all got the floor, Q” luke chimed, putting an arm around april. as he tapped quinn’s shoulder and lovingly messed up y/n’s hair, they went to luke’s room, leaving just quinn and her left.

“and then there were two.” quinn said lightheartedly, his laugh fixing the dark aura that surrounded them previously.

“yeah, just us.”

“i always wanted it to be just us.”

she was in shock, especially considering her and jack dated for almost two years, and she knew the hughes family even longer before.

“quinn,” she began,

“i promise. i’ve wanted to give you everything for so long. i was crushed when jack told me he had feelings for you, but i pushed mine aside because i wanted him to be happy. but i knew i could be better for you,”

she wrap her arms around his neck, eyes going over all his gorgeous features, lip slightly quivering at his resemblance to jack.

“i had no idea quinn, if i knew… things could’ve been so different. but right now, i do want you. but i need time, it’s do fresh,” she almost framed it as a question, nervously awaiting what quinn was going to say.

“that’s okay, i’ll wait forever if i have to. right now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the summer yeah, how’s that sound?”

she smiled, bringing her head down to fully hug him,

“that sounds really good, but what about you and jack?” quinn’s face was unwavering, not a hint of worry or fear present.

“me and jack can figure our shit out later. it’ll all be okay,” he turned his head to kiss her temple reassuringly. y/n knew he was being truthful, every time quinn said something would be okay, it would be.

with his sweet words, she was ready to soak all of him into her. she was really all his.

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

452 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 2 months

Text

"Mine"

Masterlist here

Word count: 7,000+

Synopsis: Upon viewing you and your boss, Doflamingo, get a little too close to one another, Corazon feels the urge to finally state a claim over you. He loves you, and now wants you to understand one thing and one thing only: you belong to him. You are his, completely.

Warnings: Rosinante Corazon X f!reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, NSFW, possessiveness, jealousy, mean dominant Rosinante, drinking alcohol, marking, edging, kissing, sucking, licking, yandere behaviour, pet-names used, Corazon doesn't speak, cum play, bukkake, aftercare, friendly relationship with Doflamingo.

Notes: This gorgeous art was done by @skullfacedlady, who this fic is dedicated to as a gift for her art of my OC Tobiuo and art for my Doflamingo fic 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes'. Let's fuel our obsession with the Donquixote brothers together. Enjoy your dominant Rosinante.

Donquixote Rosinante was not a jealous man. He was cool, calm and collected; level-headed and leading with his head before his heart. There was nothing outside of his control that had him up in arms, fiery, or aggressive about anything.

Silent, a swift word he used to activate his devil-fruit ability at a moment's notice. A moment to create silence in the world around him free of the noise he was plagued by. Silent, was how he found himself now as he watched you laugh alongside his brother at some witless joke whispered down into your ear.

Other than the mission he was undertaking as a spy for the world government, a bid to satiate his brother's horrid temper and ensure he doesn't make too much ruckus, he was completely silent.

Always silent.

Although he was yet to make a move romantically towards you, there was an unspoken understanding and appreciation for one another lingering beneath the surface. The touch of a hand, the passing of a shared cigarette between fingers, the smile he thought was reserved for him and him alone. That same smile he was witnessing being gifted to his older brother without a care in the world.

Doflamingo knew no bounds, there was no limit for him. He was unhinged, ferocious, and brutal. If Rosinante pursued you, Doflamingo could still manage to coax you into his bed with ease should you let him. That thought alone had the younger blonde’s blood boil with a scorched blaze.

He was a marine, a spy, a confidant to the military while being completely sound in his masquerade as a loyal minion for his older brother. The only time his mask of undying loyalty began to slip was at this very moment: witnessing your hands wander over Doflamingo’s arms, the way your eyes darted between focus on each of his, the curl of your pout as you whispered back up at him with a soft smile.

The way he grit his teeth, the growing snarl curling his upper lip, the way his eyes were fixed to your hand tapping his brother's shoulder, all of it revealed the way his soul growled to possess you in this moment. You didn't know his true nature as a marine, nor the fact that he was not as mute as you knew him to be.

To you, he was ‘sweet Corazon, the heart of the Donquixote Pirates you served with, the baby brother to your captain and boss.’ He was sure you didn't see him in a flirtatious light at all, and he was growing more restless at the thought of making you look at him through lust-colored lenses.

He wanted you so desperately, and he remained consumed with intrusive thoughts of claiming you as his own. Where he would usually gulp back his own desires, casting all aside for the sake of the mission from Marine High Command, he could no longer ignore thinking of the way you'd look in the thralls of pleasure wrapped around his cock.

His eyes continued to burn holes of flaming desire against your skin, never once leaving your smile and craving more than anything to be the reason for such radiant beauty. He wants to make you laugh, see you smile, hear what you're offering to his older brother and reciprocate the gentle touches.

And then he wants to make you whimper, whining for him and him alone. He wants to be the source of your pleasure, to have you mewl in bliss while he ruts his painfully hard cock deep within the crevices of your body. He wants to mold you to the shape of him, make you forget any other tryst prior and feel you fall apart and become drunk off what he was giving you.

Doflamingo continued to offer you crude commentary regarding several mannerisms of the troop he had surrounded himself with. The guests at the soiree had all arrived in their best garb, all enjoying the riches and spoils of the Donquixote pirates at their mansion.

All he needs is one moment. A single moment alone with you, away from this crowd, and away from the talons of his older brother. Just a single moment, and you could fall apart on his fingers, lips and cock the way he so desperately wants you to. Just one chance was all he needed, he was sure of it.

While the man who captained you was not interested in you romantically, you were spreading untruths if you said you didn't enjoy his clever analogies and crassness from time to time. He had a mind to invite a few of his regular concubines to the soiree, but opted to take you with him as his date instead.

You, his counselor and battle strategist. He knew he could come to you for all that ailed him. From desiring to know the method of attack to cause the most damage, to perching on the sofa in your office and talking about his mother. He enjoyed your ear, and you enjoyed listening to his thoughts.

The one thing you didn't plan on was sneaking glances at his younger brother once he returned to the family. Rosinante was another creature entirely. Where Doflamingo's loud chirping and chattering was harsh and boisterous, his younger brother was silent and reserved. Rosinante intrigued you, and you couldn't deny yourself the knowledge that your wandering eye had stuck to him almost immediately.

As Doflamingo leaned over to stoop at your ear, you cocked your head up to the side and readied yourself to hear his next lewd remarks.

“Watch now, you see him?” Doflamingo’s lengthy fingers reached up to your chin and gingerly traced along your jaw to turn your gaze. A young man was being regal and respectful with a blushing young woman, extending his hand toward her and inviting her to dance.

“I see a well-mannered young man offering a young debutant a dance,” you shrugged with a small smile. Doflamingo's grin widened further, leaning close enough you could almost feel his tongue against your neck alongside his wine-tainted breath on your skin.

“Well I see a young idiot who got fucked in the ass by their cabin driver moments before entering the ballroom,” he purred, prompting you to laugh a very shocked scoff with your brows raised.

“Doflamingo,” you gasped at him, gently tapping his chest and smiling up at him with lips partially parted, “You shouldn't be talking about young ladies like that. It's not polite.” He raised his wine glass, cocking his head to the side and offering it out to you to clink his rims with it.

As your glasses rang at the contact, you raised the liquid to your lips. Doflamingo’s hand snaked over your waist, tugging you closer to him as you took a tasteful amount of wine between your lips.

“I wasn’t talking about her,” Doflamingo uttered in a nonchalant whisper, prompting you to choke back and burn your throat with the liquid. He chuckled at your fluster, gripping your waist tighter and giving your hip a gentle squeeze.

“So closed-minded,” he clicked his tongue in a flurry of chastising ticks, gently tapping your nose with his index finger, “Such a shame, little lamb.” You closed your eyes and focussed on breathing through your prior choked inhale as Doflamingo soothed his thumb over your hip bone.

“You're incorrigible,” you whisper playfully up at him, prompting him to lean in a low stoop and raise the hand containing his wine glass up to your lips. He balances it within his coiled four fingers and tidies your lip with his thumb.

“You love it,” he whispered huskily down at you, “That's why you accepted my personal invitation to attend by my side, is it not?” You floated your gaze down to the thumb at your lips before shooting him a warning look at his rose-tinted glasses.

“A little unhinged commentary never hurt anybody,” you shrugged as you gently raise your glass to tap with his once more. He purred his hum down at you, squeezing your hip bone again within his talon-like grasp before he released you from his grip.

“And what unhinged commentary do you have on the menu this evening?” he asked you, prompting you to hastily gulp back your glass and place it on the tray of the traveling vendor beside you. Pondering in deep thought, Doflamingo's eyes met with his brother’s intense glare directed at you.

Beneath the shroud of his glasses, he was certain he was safe from notice. Doflamingo assessed his brother's stance and trailed the tension on his shoulders and the possessiveness in his eyes. A cruel smirk drew up on his features just as you turned to face him.

“I heard a rumor that Diamante and Pica like to hold hands while they take a piss-,” you began, only to halt as Doflamingo's deep purr crooned down at you.

“-Are you fucking my baby brother?” you snapped your head up at him and widened both your eyes and lips in response. He didn't bother moving to face you, instead training his eyes on the way Rosinante’s hardened stance leaned against the wall.

“Why would you assume such a ridiculous thing, sir?” you asked him, no room for teasing or earlier playfulness in your tone. He finally tore his eyes away from Rosinante and back towards you.

“Have you the way he's been looking at you?” Doflamingo stooped low, gently raising your chin with the tilt of his index finger. “He looks like he's trying to burn your clothes off with his eyes. Can't say I blame him,” he trails his finger down your neck to your clavicle, teasing at the hem of your formal garb, “You are a gorgeous specimen. Especially in that dress.”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Doflamingo tugged at your shoulder strap and hoisted you closer to him, turning you to shield you with his feathered coat.

“Do you want to fuck my baby brother?” he whispered, his voice low and unwavering. You darted your eyes between his and slowly bobbed your head in a soft nod.

“Oh, how delicious,” he uttered down at you, slowly walking you backwards and caging you against the wall with his hand resting on the tiles beside your head, “How soon do you want to fuck my baby brother?” You gulped, stifling your rising blush and biting your tongue in shame.

“Oh,” he taunted you with his voice shuddering in delight, “Oh, you want him now.” He leaned forward, crouching low and pressing his chest against your own. “Oh, little lamb,” he whispered, his face mere inches from yours, “This is an entertaining discovery. I bet you're soaked through those pretty panties right now, aren't you-?”

“-I don't appreciate being on the receiving end of such crassness, Doflamingo,” you cut him off with your warning tone, managing to stifle your blush and bite back at his taunt. Doflamingo rumbles a dark chuckle through his chest as he gently reaches forward and toys with a loose strand of your hair.

“I know,” he shrugged dismissively, continuing to toy with your hair and plucking at your shoulder straps, “I'll stop in just a moment.” You knit your brows inquisitively at him, clamping your teeth down in a tight snap.

“What are you doing, Doflamingo?” you arch your brow high as his unoccupied hand draws down to enclose around your wrist. He elevated your arm up to circle his shoulders and card through the wispy strands of his blonde hair bordering the scruff of his neck.

Doflamingo looked over his glasses down at you, the ruby hue of his knowing eyes piercing your soul with every passing moment. You took a moment to assess him, knowing truly that he had no interest in you aside from close friendship, but perplexed by this new intimate closeness between you.

“Isn’t it obvious, little lamb?” he cooed down at you, his eyes full of mischief and playfulness, “I have a feeling he’s just as possessive as I am,” he nudged your forehead with his chin to rise your head up further. “Let’s see where it takes him, shall we?”

Doflamingo held you against him for a few moments longer, whispering more shameless commentary while waving away any attendants who offered you food and beverages. You enjoyed his crass words, gently soothing over the back of his neck as you enjoyed the warmth from his almost friendly embrace. He was many things: a tyrant, a villain, a truly evil man with a maniacal laugh and a darkened heart. But most importantly, he was truly your friend.

After several more minutes of being contained beneath the shroud of Doflamingo’s feathered cloak, he released you from hiding within his wings and ventured over to the dancefloor, stealing away a guest and twirling them on the waxed tiles. You spared a glance over to the wall Rosinante was perched on and found an unfamiliar absence in its wake.

You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you at his notable disappearance. Instead of wallowing in this newfound pity, you simply chose to shrug it off and head over to the bar to get yourself another drink. As you called your order over the mahogany benchtop, you felt something make contact with the back of your dress and slip from your hem to fall to the middle of your back.

Turning to your side, you notice first the darkened feathers of a broad coat before the maroon hood of the man beside you. His purple glasses were drawn up the bridge of his nose, his painted lips curled in a grimace as he gestured to the barkeep for two glasses of amber liquid.

His hand remained fixed on the middle of your back in an act of possessive ownership over your form as he paid his Berry for the drinks. You searched his face, your eyes wandering over eyes avoiding yours, the tips of his ears tinted with a soft rise in aggressive blush, and his lips forged against one another in a tight, thin line.

He was angry.

His hand felt heavy and covetous, the grip increasing on the back of your dress while attempting to remain poised and composed. Continuing to monitor his expression from your peripherals, you gently brush the rim of your glass with his in a gesture of gratitude.

“Thank you, Corazon,” you whisper, gently leaning your head to brush against his bicep in a soft bob of familiarity, “It is for me, isn’t it?” He offered you nothing in return: no smile, no look, no acknowledgement at all. Raising his own glass to his lips and gulping it back in a hefty swig, he sighed out a silent breath at the burning sting of alcohol. Placing the glass on the countertop, he finally turned to you with his eyes darkened and glaring through his eyelashes as you sipped at your drink.

His hands clapped over your own on the glass, pulling your hand towards his face and turning your glass and placing his lips over the stain left on the rim of your glass from your lip paint. Without tearing his eyes away from yours, he gulped down the rest of your liquid with his lips casting over your own mark: sharing a kiss without your lips ever meeting.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, his gaze hypnotizing you with the tension falling from his shoulders in a possessive rage. Releasing your hand and back, he fished out his cigarette carton and flintlock lighter, his eyes held a daring challenge in them before he turned and made his way towards the heavy doors. Thrusting them open, his intentional and weighty steps feeling foreign in comparison to his usual light footedness.

Quickly darting your eyes over to the dancefloor, you notice Doflamingo’s gaze catch yours. Shooting you a pouting mock-kiss, he waved you on with his blessing to leave the space unchaperoned by him. You sucked your lip into your mouth and sheepishly trailed after Corazon with your head hanging low to shroud your bashfulness.

The wind hit your face as the setting sun fled over the coastal line of the Dessrossian sea. The blue of the moonlight rose the shadowy corners of the city and made way for the hum of low lamplight.

Sitting on the seastone wall, legs crossed at the knees and gazing up into the night sky sat Rosinante inhaling his cigarette. Exhaling the smoke, his chest seemed to deflate in somber yearning. His smoky breath picked up in a swirl on the wind that caressed his skin and blew at his golden hair beneath the red signature hat. His feathered cloak laid on the top of the barrier beside him, the feathers rustling with the breeze.

Your heart began to flitter with an anxiousness and adrenaline spike you had not yet met its equal. The need to draw him into your arms, take him away from all the frivolity, and press sweetness against his lips with your own had become too much. The way his lips parted with every exhale, the danger and mystery held within his expression propelled your chest to set ablaze. The desire to declare your intentions then and there, claim his lips and body with yours grew exponentially.

Hissing a final shaky breath through your teeth, you halt your inhibitions and set to declare your infatuation with the younger Donquixote brother. Your feet marched towards him, no longer caring that your desperation for him was exposed beneath your steely expression. As you stood before him, he upturned his head and gazed down his nose at you.

“Corazon?” your whisper was all the warning you managed to choke out before your hands sought his cheeks and propelled you into his arms. He parted his knees to take you between them, immediately circling his arms around your smaller frame and clasping the back of your dress into heaping fistfuls.

Lips finally meeting, you tentatively pressed your confession into his skin with a gentle kiss. A shocked squeak left your mouth and was swallowed by his, as his own kiss deviated from your prior sweetness. There was no softness in his kiss, the sweet Corazon you so desperately yearned for had been replaced by another beast entirely.

Corazon’s lips were hungry, consuming your desire and feasting on the whimpers you called to him with. His hands forced your back to arch against his chest, the tilt of his head and circling of his chin mouthing at you set the pace of the kiss and grew your need for him. A sense of urgency was felt in his kiss, the need to state his claim over you rising with his wild lust.

Pulling away from your lips, he gazed into your eyes to search for any uncertainty within. Both heavily panting and breathless, you felt the possessiveness Doflamingo had warned you about burn into his aura. His smudged lips were parted, eyes glassy with blown pupils. He released his right hand from your dress and drew it up to his face.

Tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, he reached up his thumb and claimed a portion of red paint from his cheek on the rounded pad. Immediately thrust his hand forward, he held your left breast in his much larger four fingers while smearing the paint within your cleavage. A choked gasp fled from you as he focussed his attention onto your breast, molding the flesh beneath his palm.

Huffing through a laugh, he tore his eyes from your breasts and arched his brow up at you with a knowing smirk playing on his face. You knit your brows together in puzzlement before looking down at your chest. Lying central over your heart, your eyes widened at the paint over your exposed flesh. A single word was depicted: no questions, no inhibitions, and no care for any passerby to see the mess he had made on your skin. Corazon’s unwavering gaze never left you as you read over his word.

“Mine.”

A gasp was the only sound he allowed to leave you before he circled his arms over your waist and intentionally fell backwards over the wall, taking you with him as you fell. A hand clapped over your lips to stifle a soft yelp of shock, Corazon fell onto his back with a thud. As soon as he landed, he gave you no time to process the change in position as he replaced his palm with his lips once more.

In a swift movement, he switched your positions and placed your back on the plush grass bordering the elevated pier between the ocean shore and the Dressrosian castle. Your shocked whimper was claimed by Corazon as his lips collected yours with passion and vigor. There was no hesitancy in his lips, no wavering in his movements, nor stalling his lust for you.

You made him jealous in the ballroom with his brother, the jealousy unwarranted due to the fact he considered his love to be unrequited. As soon as you placed your lips on his, all of his withheld emotions and prior resignation all but fled him. He was not going to let you go. You were his, and his possessive tendencies revealed themselves to you by each time he drew down his lips to ravish you.

Trailing his lips and teeth down to your cheek and the tip of your chin, he mouthed at your neck and pressed kisses at your rapidly beating pulse point. Sucking a heart-shaped mark into your skin, your back arched as his hands drew up over your breasts and toyed with your peaked buds. You let out a yelp as he heaped the dress within his balled fists, splitting the material of the dress Doflamingo purchased for you, and rendering it unsalvageable.

Leaving you no time to protest, his lips found one of your puckered nipples and rolled it with his tongue. His other hand toyed with your unoccupied breast, matching momentum and maneuverability he was pressing into you with his lips. You drew up your hands to clap one over your lips, while the other found the top of Corazon’s head and scrunched around the red material of his hat.

Removing his lips from your chest while continuing to pinch your nipple, he sought out your consent to continue ravishing you. His eyes seemed almost innocent, his head cocking to the side as his brows arched in the center of his forehead. His lips held the sweet smile you knew and loved him for, a vast contrast to the criminally unashamed touch he was teasing you with.

“You-... ah-... asking for my consent to continue?” you moaned as he joined his unoccupied hand to squeeze at the flesh his lips were occupied with prior. He shook his head before his lips kissed above his smudged writing, drawing your attention to the mark he made prior.

“You-... nnngh-... You asking for-... fuck, Corazon-,” he placed his knee between your legs, making contact with the damp material of your soaked panties and grinding it up against you. You felt the rumble of his soundless chuckle purr and vibrate against your skin, his lips curling into a smile as he continued to mouth at your skin.

Searching your rapidly clouding mind for any question you had to form on his wordless behalf, you found revelation just as his fingers began to snake down below your panties and gather your slick atop his considerably larger fingers. Dipping his middle and unity finger in a coaxing grind against your entrance, you yanked his head up to gaze back into your eyes and release your skin from his relentless attack of his urgent kisses.

“Corazon, you-... you want to claim me as yours, don’t you?” you gasped as his lips halted their descent and his eyes darted back up to meet yours. His hazelnut orbs burn into you with his silent unwavering desire, daring you to deny him through his lengthy eyelashes. At that moment, that split motion and hardened intensity, you knew within your soul that you belonged to him and him alone.

There was no other, no friend nor foe that poured into your mind other than your sweet Corazon. He owned you in every sense of the word. Your heart, your mind, your spirit was all his. Always had been, and will always ever be. Unbreaking in his heavy eye contact, he prowled back up towards you and caged your head between his lowered elbows. Testing you with his eyes, he swayed his head slowly from side to side, hovering his lips above yours as you chased him.

“Say it,” his lips motioned, his breath tingling your skin where his vocal fry never spilled, “Say it.” You whined, pouting and avoiding his eyes while your body bucked up involuntarily to brush against his thigh.

Your open dress caused the wind to prick up and caress your skin with its icy breeze: a drastic contrast between the hot body trapping you beneath him. Corazon’s eyes never left yours, ablaze with the desire to see you admit defeat and title him as yours, and yours alone. Gazing down his nose at you, his tongue soundlessly clicked a few more times in daring you to admit that key phrase that granted him the pleasure of enjoying you exclusively.

“Yours,” you managed to gasp out, your back arching as your head drew up to seek his out, “I’m yours, Corazon.” He angled his chin, clicking his tongue while urging you to cry out for him more. Gently dragging his fingers backwards and forwards along your slit, he tentatively bullied his lengthy digits into your body and hooked them up to expertly seek out the underside of your clit and massage it with his thick fingers.

“Fuck, I’m yours,” you curse at him, his brows arching up as he continued to bully his fingers into you, collecting your slick on his middle and unity fingers while his thumb tapped at your clit. Roughly propelling you closer to ecstasy, he held you hostage against your release: the bob and contraction of your walls squeezing against his digits halting his movements and edging you away from your ignition.

Your hands sought out his cheeks, roughly bringing his face towards you and wordlessly asking for his kiss. He denied you, holding his head away from your lips and teasing you with his eyes. Desperation clawed at you, forcing you to buck up against his hand to chase your high, only to be championed away from eruption by the skilled ministrations of the blonde above you. You keened for him, trying to gather more of him as he held off his lips and your approaching climax with expert precision.

“What? What do you want me to say?” you desperately gasped for him. He arched his brow, continuing to hold your bliss at ransom until you declared what he was searching for. He leaned down, his bottom lip gently brushing with yours before pulling away and focussing his thumb against your clit. Arching your back, you grabbed at his wrist channeling its ministrations against your hyper-sensitive body to draw more of him against you.

“Corazon, please,” you whimpered, tears beginning to gather in your eyes, “I only ever want to be yours. Only yours.” You reached your hands up to his stomach, snaking your digits across his abdomen and desperately reaching for the hemline of his pants. As soon as he felt your fingers slip beneath the surface, he pulled his hand away from your dripping pussy and removed your hands immediately from his body.

Clasping your wrists above your head in a single girthy hand, Corazon used his other to unbutton the front of his pants before returning it to your needy pussy. Each touch was highly sensitive, your entrance contracting around an absent touch, and your voice whined for him to let you finish.

“Please. Please, Corazon!” you sobbed, arching your back and squirming against his hand pinning yours above your head. “What do you want? What do you want? Please, I'll do anything. Anything you want.”

Truthfully, Corazon didn't know what he wanted. He enjoyed this new shift in power: watching you helplessly squirming to seek out more of his touch against you, seeing the desperation in your eyes, hearing the hopelessness in your soft cries. You were experiencing all of the emotions he felt moments prior while his heart was held at ransom watching you with his brother.

He wanted to see you cry, hear you whine, feel you sniffle as you keened for him; helpless to the pleasure he was desperately withholding from you. He was so tired of being kind and sweet to you, always kind and sweet to you.

No, he wanted to be mean.

His unwavering gaze darkened as he pierced you with his eyes, the smudge of his former mark on your chest spreading through the dewy desperation of your glistening perspiration. You had never looked so beautiful to him, bare for any passerby to witness if they truly focussed on you. Each part of you was perfect to him, every sucked breath, whimper, and sniffle.

After spending a moment to take you all in, he had no choice but to see you unravel by his touch. A show just for him, with you as the star performer.

Thumb pressed against your swollen pearl, he finally focussed his entire attention on coaxing you from that edge by pistoning his hand in and out, adding his index finger to the stretch and massaging your g-spot. Scissoring his fingers, dancing his digits expertly on your most sensitive and desperate nerves, your eyes finally ignite with the white of euphoric lightning.

“O-Oh, fuck!” you yelped, feeling how tightly wound you were, his hands rapidly beckoned your ecstasy like a musician toying with their specialist instrument. You bit your lip to stifle your whimpers, your vision blurring beneath your glassy orbs and light bursting behind your eyes.

Corazon's jaw shuddered as he felt your body shake and tremble beneath him. His eyes never left your face as he watched your eyes clamp shut and contort in ecstacy. Back arching, hips rocking to match his pace, your body danced hypnotically as you rode through your high. Your slick gushed in his hands, christening him with your essence as he ceased his relentless momentum.

“Corazon,” you pant with your chest heaving as your lungs expanded. Removing his lengthy digits from your pussy, he teased at your entrance, collected a sample of your essence and gripped his newly exposed cock. Leaning up onto your elbows, you were enchanted by his hand pistoning his shaft, giving his knob a gentle squeeze while lubricating it with your slick.

Leaning back to sit on his calves, he beckoned you over with a wiggle of his finger. As you attempted to sit, the exertion from the intensity of your euphoria prevented you from rising. Falling back onto the grass, Corazon clicked his tongue at you before biting back a rising smirk.

He was absolutely smitten with the fact that just his hands had left you feeling like an oversensitive mess trembling on the ground. His patience was never ending, enjoying the show of how helpless you looked while catching your breath. Instead of chastising you for being unable to move, he shuffled forward, staining his knees with the green tint of the plush grass.

Bringing himself down to cage your body beneath his, he tilted his head with a playful smile drawing up his lips. A soft whine fled from your lips as you felt him line the tip of his cock against your slit. Dragging the blunt tip over your entrance up to your sensitive clit had your body trembling from the heightened oversensitivity.

“Corazon,” your whispered cry for him had his eyes widening and pupils dilating to a blown-out eclipse of those brown eyes you had grown to love. The man who caged you beneath him resembled a beast: wild with desire and consumed by the need for satisfaction.

His sweet smile was now mimicking a grimace, the resemblement to his older brother now understandable by the curl of his lips. Caging your waist within his two hands with ease, he elevated your hips from the ground as he sat on his calves. A squeak of shock fled from your lips, the gentle caress of grass searing against your shoulders and pricking your skin.

Lining up his tip fully with your slit, his wrists snapped you down as if you weighed nothing, sinking his blushing cockhead within your drooling cunt immediately. Crying out at the stinging stretch, you thrust your hands behind you and anchored yourself against the earth by gripping the grass beside your head.

At the soft cry, Rosinante stilled. His discipline holding by a thread as his eyes take you in. Seeing that deep furrow on your face as you adjust to his great size has him rocking you gently to test out your resolve. Snapping your eyes up at him, you mirror his unhinged smirk and attempt to peer up at him with your shoulders bearing your weight.

“If you're going to fuck me, fuck me,” you taunt him, your eyelashes fluttering innocently at him, “I can take it. I'm yours.” Your smirk turns soft, the dewy sweat smearing the lettering written over your chest, and heaving with every inhale of breath. On seeing the red paint etched over your skin, his blood boiled like a drop of water into a crackling pot of hot oil. That sizzling danger igniting fire within his soul had his hips immediately rock forward and bury his entire length into your slick heat.

Eliciting a strangled cry of shock at the intrusion, your voice caught itself in your larynx as your jaw fell slack. Eyes wide, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, smile ghosting at the corners of your lips, your back bowed as the crown of your head flew back to the ground. His cock pressed against your cervix, pulsating its engorged mass deep within your body. Not a single regret cascaded over your mind at the first rock of your much smaller body over his giant steely cock.

As if only testing your resolve, his thrusts remained shallow: his cock buried into you and only withdrawing a single inch to press back in. Each gasp from your lips mirrored the flutter of your walls contracting around him, drawing him forward and prompting him to growl deep within the chasms of his chest.

Nodding to him, you slapped his large hands circling your waist and gestures to his cock with your digits.

“C'mon, Corazon,” you tease him, angling your head to the side and peering at the corner of your eyes and grinning from ear to ear, “You call this fucking me-! Ahh-!”

The switch flicked, his motions throwing and jolting your body with each heavy thrust. You were a limp doll in his hands, your much smaller frame a pretty cocksleeve for his looming body towering over you. He pumped his cock into your cunt, using your pussy as a channel for his lust.

His belt jingled and rustled as his pants slunk to his knees, your dress collecting the stain of green from the grass beneath you. Eyes scrunched tightly shut, Corazon panted heavy breaths with his unsyncopated rhythm. Each in-thrust hit the sensitive convex of your g-spot before brushing past and bullying your cervix. Hit blunt tip hit that marker within your body that had you scream in ecstasy, lips parting and drool falling from the corners of your lips.

Corazon cracked open his eyes and found himself lost in the vision of you splayed out beneath him. Just from meeting his eyes on your body; clothes ruined, back arching, eyes blown with lust, and breath catching in sweet, choked, little mewls, he felt himself almost topple over that cliff of bliss. Your pussy fluttered around him, coaxing a soundless cry to flee from his lips while his hips rutt into your cunt recklessly.

The coil within your abdomen swelled before binding together in a woven ring. You could barely form a cohesive word. Your arms, along with the rest of you, remained unresponsive to your mind as you felt your release almost snap within you.

On queue, Rosinante moved one of his hands so his thumb met your clit while the remaining four circled your hips. The pad of his larger digit gently swirled your clit in messy circles, his desperation to feel you cum against his cock driving him to the brink of reckless insanity. As the larger blonde continued to rutt and buck into you while dragging your smaller frame against his, the crude slaps and sloppy momentum had lightning flash behind your eyes.

“C-Co-! Nghhmn-, Cora-!” your choked whimper was caught on your tongue as your body gave in to the call of your release. Your back bowed as you met your crest, the final crescendo being conducted within the symphony of your bodies joining as one. Your pussy gushed against his cock, a creamy ring forming at his base as you contracted around him. Each pulse and wave of your fluttering walls had Corazon crying soundlessly while biting his cheeks to ground himself from toppling immediately after you. Focussing on you first, he continued holding the pace and fucking you through your bliss.

Falling away from that edge and floating back to the surface, you felt Corazon withdraw his cock from your oversensitive pussy with a rough 'pop'. Gently falling your body to the ground with his larger left hand, his right immediately circled his cock and began pumping the thick shaft over your body. His eyelids fluttered as his glassy orbs rolled back, his lips soundlessly uttering a single word once his gaze pierced yours.

“Mine.”

At that, his cock leaked in hot spurts, dousing your stomach and breasts in scorching splashes. You could almost feel his chest vibrating with the sounds he couldn't release verbally, his lips repeating several mouthed curses and iterations of your name. His cock twitched in his palm as he rode his high over your body.

You were mesmerized in the way he moved. His wrist slightly curled it's way inwards with every instroke, uncoiling on the way out, his pearlescent seed finally coating the red mark he wrote against your skin with his lip paint. He drank in your sight: lips parted, clothes torn, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, panting chest, and covered in ropes of his cum.

Riding through his high, he collapsed over you. His hands moved to cage you beneath him, knees on either side of your hips as his breath tickled your face. His lips found your cheek, moving in that single word repetitively.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he nipped at your jaw, his tongue darting out and dragging down your neck towards your pulse. You whined at the movement, already feeling oversensitive from the two climaxes in sequence. Rosinante’s chest wiggled with his soundless chuckle, rolling back onto his knees and gawking at you.

You were perfect.

Gently reaching up to the beam beside him, he collected his feather coat and laid it beside you. His motions were gentle, intentional, and almost sweet in comparison to his prior roughness. He hooked his arm beneath your legs, the other splayed on your upper back as he moved you onto the dark quills of inky feathers. Without a care to the mess he made of you, he curled in the corners and swaddled you within the larger back and sleeves.

“Corazon…?” you whispered after him, his eyes finding yours and granting you a soft smile while continuing to gather you into his material nest. “What are you-?”

He reached forward, touching your lips with his fingers before gesturing up to the manor suite his bedroom door was adjoined. Satisfied with you safely tucked within the feathery quills of his lengthy coat, his eyes widened briefly in shock before his features softened all together.

Firstly tucking his cock back into his pants, he redid his belt before fixing his shirt. You giggled at his silliness, watching each motion with interest while your body began to ache with the overexertion of taking his mass within your body. You attempted to move, wincing as you felt the sting of his bruising kisses and harsh movement against your body.

At the soft hiss, Rosinante surged forward, caressing your cheek and checking you over.

“I'm alright, Corazon,” you whisper with a soft smile, “Just a little achy. I'll be fine. I'm-.”

Your words halt as something shrouds your eyes, warming your head, and eclipsing you with comfort. Eyes fluttering shut, you welcome the embrace of Corazon’s soft hat crowning your hair, the hearts dangling down on your chest and dancing on your skin. The feeling of his arms hooking beneath your legs once more returned, this time beneath the quills of his feathered cloak.

Looking up at him as he hoisted you into the air, the sun warmed his skin with a soft pink. The orange and red mixing with the hues of purple over the Dressrosian horizon as he raised to full height. His hazelnut eyes fell over your face, his eyelashes fluttering and orbs darting their focus within your own.

“Mine.”

He mouthed the words once more before walking with you cradled against himself towards his quarters. The gentle touch soothed your skin, the safety of his arms barricading you in his sweet hold as he ushered you to his room with a soft skip in his step.

You truly felt it: mind, body, spirit, and soul. You were his. Truly, his.

You belonged to Donquixote “Corazon” Rosinante.

The only thoughts that withheld you from submitting completely was the knowing smile Doflamingo shot you from the double-arched doors over Rosinante’s shoulder. That unhinged grin, filled with amusement had you dreading the way you were likely going to give your boss a play by play over what had just occurred between you and his younger brother.

For now, there was this: a man who was nuzzling against your neck, inhaling your scent, and attacking your cheek with soft kisses. The same man who coated your body in a spray of his cum, staining you and marking you as his. The man who had you climax so hard you saw each star littering the sky with renewed vibrancy.

The man who held your heart completely.

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months

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Can you do a Bucky x hydra oc fic

They were engaged in the forties but out of the blue hydra agents kidnapped her and conditioned her to be a winter soldier with powers like Wanda but her powers are purple

Years go by the avengers break into a hydra base and run into y/n Bucky recognizes her immediately however y/n doesn’t both soldiers go head to head until Bucky sedates her and then brings her back to the tower.

Weeks go by with Bucky trying to get her to remember one day he loses his tags she comes across it and suddenly she gets her memory back and runs through the facility looking for him and tells him that she remembers him and them and tells him she still wants to marry him and it ends in smut

Found My Way Back To You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Fiancée/Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky were engaged in the 1940s and finds you’re alive and he gets you back to the Avengers Compound safe and sound and does everything he can to get you to remember him and you eventually find your way back to him.

Warnings: Fluff, little bit of Angst, Smut ending (18+), language, HYDRA, flashbacks, crying, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, Bucky’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

A/N #2: The reader is another Winter Soldier and she has powers like Wanda. Flashbacks are in italic text.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

1945

You woke up to the sound of movement. You got out of bed to check it out. You opened the bedroom door and stepped out in the hallway, cautiously walking towards the living room. You poked your head around the corner to see men dressed in black looking for something. You quickly went back to your bedroom and hid in the closet and put your hand over your mouth. They must’ve heard you somehow, because they made their way to your bedroom and broke down the door. They looked around the room and under the bed. One of the men stopped in front of the closet door and pressed his ear against it, hearing the sound of whimpers. He opened it and pulled you out of the closet. You kicked and screamed, doing everything you could to get away from them. You yelped when a needle pricked your neck. Within a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut and your body went limp.

A few hours later, you woke up strapped to a chair in what it seems to be some kind of lab. One of the guards noticed and alerted everyone else in Russian. A man approached you and crouched down in front of you.

“Welcome to HYDRA.” The man said in Russian. “You’re going to be our newest experiment.” He says.

Before you could kick, scream, or protest, a scientist put an IV in your arm that had some kind of blue liquid in it. That’s when all of the pain began.

PRESENT DAY

Bucky walked up and down the hallways of the HYDRA base with his gun held in front of him and checking every corner and room. He thought everything was clear, but he was wrong. He got caught off guard and thrown into a wall. He groaned and stood up, reaching for his gun.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You say.

Bucky froze in place. He knows that voice. It’s a voice from someone he was very close to in the 1940s. He hasn’t heard that voice in years. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He turned around slowly so he can see the person. His eyes went wide and his breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t believe what- who he was seeing. His fiancée from the 1940s is standing a few feet away from him.

“Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t know who the hell Y/N is.” You slightly tilted your head. “What I do know is that you’re not supposed to be here, Soldat.” You say.

Bucky’s heart broke in a million pieces and he cringed when you called him Soldat. He hasn’t been called that in a while.

“Y/N, please…” He pleads. “It’s me. Bucky. Your Bucky.” He says.

Bucky stepped forward, getting closer to you, which was probably a mistake cause that got him thrown against the wall again. Bucky groans and stood up.

“Alright, doll…” Bucky sighs. “You want to fight, we’ll fight.” He says.

Bucky watched a purple ball of light glow in your hand and your eyes glowing purple. He knew this wasn’t going to end well, but he might as well give it his all.

You threw the purple energy blasts at him. He dodged every one of them and got closer to you as he did so. He managed to grab one of your wrists, which probably wasn’t a smart thing for him to do cause he got blasted through a door into a room. Bucky groaned and looked around, trying to gather his surroundings.

“You should just give up now, Soldat.” You walked in the room. “Just face it, you’re not as strong as you used to be, even with the metal arm.” You say.

“I’m not giving up.” Bucky stood up. “I’m just getting started.” He says.

Bucky seen something from the corner of his eye. He glanced over at the table and seen a syringe filled a sedative. That’s when an idea popped into his head. Bucky is going to attempt to pin you down and inject you with the sedative.

Bucky approached you, dodging your blasts each time. When he finally got to you, he tackled you to the floor. You didn’t let that stop you. You put up a fight. He wrapped his vibranium arm around you, pinning your arms down to your sides. He stood up with you squirming in his arms.

“Let me go!” You demanded, trying to squirm out of his strong grip.

Bucky ignored your pleads to let you go. His right hand took the cap off of the needle of the syringe and picked it up.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He apologizes before injecting you with the sedative.

A yelp left your lips when the needle pricked your arm. After a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut and your body went limp in Bucky’s arms.

Bucky threw the syringe somewhere in the room and eased you down to the floor. He moved your hair from your face to get a good look at you. He felt his eyes tear up as he looked at you.

“What did they do to you, my sweet doll?” Bucky asks in a whisper, his voice cracking.

Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to the quinjet. He was met by Steve and Natasha at where they came in the base.

“What took you so- who’s that?” Natasha asks when she seen you in Bucky’s arms.

“I’ll explain later.” Bucky says.

Steve got a good look at your face when Bucky laid you down somewhere comfortable in the quinjet. He immediately knew who you are.

“Is this Y/N?” Steve asks Bucky.

“Yes.” Bucky answers, not taking his eyes off of you.

“What- how-” Steve couldn’t figure out what question he wanted to ask first.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Bucky says.

When everyone got back to the compound, Bucky’s first priority was you. He got you cleaned up and put comfortable clothes on you that Natasha and Wanda provided for you. Then Bucky sat next to his bed and waited for you to wake up.

You woke up after a couple hours. You looked around the unfamiliar room, trying to gather your surroundings. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you tried to figure out where you are.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Bucky says softly.

You turned your head and seen Bucky sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“Who are you and where am I?” You asked.

“I’m Bucky, your fiancée. You’re in the Avengers Compound.” Bucky answers.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t have a fiancée.” You threw the blankets off of you and got out of bed. “You’re the Winter Soldier and you drugged me and brought me to whatever this place is.” You say, looking around the room.

“What- no.” He stood up from the chair. “I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore.” He tells you. “I didn’t drug you. I just sedated you so I can get you out of there.” He explains softly.

Bucky slowly approached you so he didn’t scare you. You walked backwards till your back hit the wall behind you.

“Doll, I’m not going to hurt you.” He assures softly.

“Don’t come any closer!” Your eyes glowed purple. “Get away from me!” You shouted.

“Ok, ok.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’ll give you some space.” He says.

Bucky left his room to give you the space you needed. He sighed loudly as he entered the lounge room where all of the Avengers are.

“Does she remember you?” Steve asks Bucky.

“No.” Bucky sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s like I never existed to her.” He says.

Steve put a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Who is that girl?” Natasha asks.

“My fiancée.” Bucky answers.

Everyone in the room had surprised looks on their faces, except Steve. He already knew about you since you two are friends and grew up in the same time period as him and Bucky.

Bucky spent the day trying to figure out how to get you to remember him. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, but he wants you to know that he’s your fiancée. He was in the conference room and was supposed to be filling out paperwork from the mission he saved you from, but he was too lost in his thoughts. He didn’t even hear Steve and Natasha walk in the room.

“Bucky…” Steve says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“What?” Bucky asks, looking up at him and Natasha.

“Me and Steve were doing some research on your fiancée and found something you might want to see.” Natasha says, handing Bucky the tablet she had in her hands.

Bucky took the tablet from her and read the information on you they had found on you. WINTER SOLDIER 2.0 EXPERIMENT was in bold, black, italic, capital letters.

“They were trying to make her a Winter Soldier.” Bucky says out loud, looking at Steve and Natasha.

“Keep reading.” Steve tells him.

Bucky kept reading and came across a note.

1945- Subject was found in her home in Brooklyn, New York. She will be the next experiment to be tested be a Winter Soldier.

Something about that note set Bucky off. He dropped the tablet on the table with and ran his fingers through his hair with teary eyes.

“No, no, no.” Bucky whispers to himself as a couple tears rolled down his cheeks. “This can’t be true.” He says, not wanting to believe it.

Bucky stood up from his seat and went to find you. He didn’t have to look long and hard. You were in the same room you were in when he brought you to the compound, his bedroom.

You jumped at the sound of the door opening and closing. Your eyes glowed purple and a purple ball of light glowed in your hand to defend yourself if it’s danger.

“Hey, hey.” Bucky coos softly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you.” He assures. “I just want to talk if that’s ok with you.” He says.

You stared at him for a few silent seconds before agreeing to talk to him. Bucky sat on his bed and patted the spot next to him. You hesitated before sitting down.

“I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to freak out, ok?” He says.

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m Bucky, your fiancée. Your name is Y/N.” He starts. “We were in a relationship in the 1940s, but our time together got cut short because of something that happened to me when I was in the Army in 1945.” He explains.

You sat there, listening to him, but everything he’s saying doesn’t ring a bell to you.

“Does any of that sound familiar?” He asks.

“No.” You answered.

“Try thinking about it. It’ll come to you.” He says.

Bucky put his right hand on top of one of your hands. You jerked it away and moved further up the bed as a force of habit.

“Sorry.” You mumbled. “I do that when people touch me.” You say.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I get it.” He says understandingly.

You two sat in silence with at least a foot of distance in between the two of you for a few minutes.

“Why are you trying to get me to remember things I don’t remember?” You asked.

“We have history together.” He says.

“But I don’t know you.” You say.

You saying that felt like someone ripped Bucky’s heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands. Bucky let out a shaky breath before standing up and left his room, giving you time to yourself.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky does everything he can to get you to remember him. He showed you pictures of you and him together, but nothing still doesn’t ring a bell to you. It’s breaking Bucky’s heart even more. He gets so upset that he takes it out on the punching bags in the gym.

Meanwhile, you were wandering around the compound, but you kept getting lost. You were still trying to adjust to being there. You heard panting and grunting noises coming from the gym. You walked in the gym to see Bucky working out. Bucky seen you from the corner of his eye and looked over at you, stopping what he was doing.

“You ok?” Bucky asks as he approaches you.

“Yea. I was walking around and heard noises in here.” You say.

“I was just working out.” He tells you.

“Oh ok.” You say.

Bucky walked past you to go to his bedroom to take a shower. You were about to leave the gym, but you caught a glimpse of something shiny on the floor. You walked over to it and picked it up. It was a necklace. Not just any kind of necklace. It was Bucky’s Army dog tags.

When Bucky was getting dressed after his shower, he noticed something off. As he was looking in the mirror, he quickly noticed that his dog tags weren’t around his neck. The only time he takes them off is when he takes showers.

“No…” Bucky says to himself.

Bucky looked on the sink counter in the bathroom, in and on his dresser and nightstand, his bed, the pants he wore, his jacket pockets, but he couldn’t find them. Meanwhile, you were still looking at Bucky’s dog tags. You weren’t sure what it was, but something them was familiar. That’s when a familiar voice echoed in your head.

“The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes.” The voice says.

That’s when you recognized the name on the dog tags. Your memories started flowing back in your mind like a broken dam. Then you ran through the compound, looking for Bucky. You looked everywhere, but couldn’t find him. Finally, you went to the floor where his room is. You knocked on his bedroom door rapidly till he opened it.

“Now’s not really-” Bucky got interrupted.

“I found your dog tags.” You gave them to him. “I remember.” You tell him.

“You remember? Oh my god, doll! That’s amazing!” He exclaims happily.

Bucky stepped aside, allowing you to walk in his room. You took a seat on the edge of his bed. He sat down next to you.

“I want you to know that I never forgot about you.” He tells you. “You’ve been on my mind everyday. I never stopped loving you.” He says.

He lifted his right hand to gently caress your cheek and rubbed his thumb against your skin. You leaned into his touch and looked deep in his blue eyes.

“Bucky…” You almost whisper.

“What is it, doll?” He asks, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I still want to get married.” You tell him. “I want to marry you.” You say.

A smile grew on Bucky’s face. He leaned in and kissed you passionately. You melted against his lips. The last time you and Bucky kissed was when he left for the Army. It felt so good to have his lips on yours again. He pulled away, still looking deep in your eyes.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say those words.” Bucky says.

He kissed you again. This time, he gently laid you back on his bed and got on top of you, hovering over you. Your hands grasped onto his t-shirt, pulling him closer to you.

“I missed you.” You say against his lips.

“I missed you more.” He says softly.

Your hands found their way to the bottom of his t-shirt and tugged on it, indicating that you wanted him to take it off. Bucky quickly understood and sat up on his knees. He took his shirt off and threw it somewhere in the room.

For a moment, Bucky was worried that you were going to say something about his vibranium arm and his scars, but you didn’t. You seen both, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment by bringing it up.

Bucky’s hands found their way to the bottom of your shirt. He looked up at you for permission before going any further. You nodded your head yes, giving him the ok. He took your shirt off and preceded to do the same thing with your pants, but paused and waited for permission again. You gave him permission by lifting your hips. He slid your pants does your legs and dropped them on the floor.

You placed a hand on Bucky’s abdomen, gently pushing him back a little so you could sit up. You unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped the zipper of his jeans while maintaining eye contact and biting your bottom lip. Bucky noticed that same innocent look you always have in your eyes when you two are about to have sex. He loves that look.

Bucky got off the bed to take his jeans off and then got on then bed, hovering over you. He leaned his head down to place soft kisses along your shoulders. His right hand found its way to your back. You arched your back so he could unclasp your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

“You’re still gorgeous as the day I met you.” Bucky says softly.

You couldn’t help but blush. His compliments always made you blush.

Bucky’s hands made their way to the waistband of your panties. He hooked his fingers on the waistband and pulled them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He was still in his boxers. Your hands roamed his perfectly sculpted body, stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and tugged on them. Bucky chuckled softly at your eagerness before taking them off.

You couldn’t help but look at his cock, gasping softly when you seen how big he is. You didn’t know he was that big. Partly due to the Super Soldier serum that enhanced his appearance and features.

Bucky gave you a soft kiss on your lips before lining his cock at your entrance. He slowly slid it in your pussy, halting his movements when he heard you gasp.

“Are you ok, babydoll?” Bucky asks softly.

“Mhmm, yea.” You hummed, nodding your head.

Bucky continues to slowly slide his cock inside of you. When he was fully inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust to his size since it’s been a long time since you two have had sex.

“You can move.” You gave him permission. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.” You say.

Bucky gave you a soft smile and a kiss before he started thrusting. His thrusts were slow and loving. Even though you said not to hold back, he still wanted to take it easy on you. You two used to have a fun sex life before he left for the Army. This time is different. All Bucky wanted to do is make love to you.

You spread your legs wider to give Bucky more access. One of Bucky’s hands found its way to your thigh, giving it a rub before lifting your leg and placing it on his hip.

“James…” You moaned softly.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head to the side. Bucky softly kissed along your neck. His teeth lightly grazed your skin, making you gasp softly. He bit down hard enough for a hickey. He did t once more before going back to focusing on your pleasure.

Bucky always took your pleasure seriously. He always wants you to feel good. To make it more loving and romantic, his hands found their way to yours and intertwined his fingers with yours. You looked up at him with a loving look on your face. Bucky had the same look on his face.

Bucky leaned his forehead against your shoulder, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck. The stubble of his beard poked and scratched your skin. You can’t remember the last time Bucky had a beard or stubble, but you sure as hell know that you love it.

“I love you, babydoll.” Bucky breathes. “So fucking much.” He says.

“I love you too, James.” You moaned.

Your pussy fluttered around his cock when his cock hit your sweet spot. A loud moan of his name left your lips. Your moans encouraged him to thrust a little faster. Bucky loves it when you call him by his first name.

You turned your head just enough to kiss along his neck. Your teeth nipped on his skin hard enough for a hickey. Bucky moans at the feeling. He used to love it when you give him hickeys. He still loves it. It’s been so long that he almost forgot what it felt like.

Bucky’s right hand left your hand to rub your clit. Your hips bucked against his hand at the feeling. Your mouth fell open, breathy moans left your lips. You didn’t know how long you’re going to last with the way he’s rubbing your clit and the way he’s making love to you.

“James, I’m-” A moan left your lips before you could finish your sentence.

“Cum for me, doll. I’m close too.” Bucky says panting.

His name fell from your lips as you came. Bucky came not too long after you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He gave you a passionate kiss before pulling out and laying down next to you. He pulled you close to him with his arms wrapped around you protectively and covered the two of you up with a blanket. You laid your head on his chest and played with his dog tags.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky whispers after a few minutes.

“I love you too, Bucky.” You say, smiling up at him.

“Just know, I’m going to give the wedding you’ve been dreaming about.” He says.

“You’re the best.” You smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips sweetly.

“I know I am.” He says, smiling against your lips.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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