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4dtk · 3 years

Note

hi 🖤 you could write something like sugar daddy? not smut explicit, something like fluff and horny 🖤 pls ! with any nct / wayv member.

ok bestie im going to do this with my fav members (and also those who have sugar daddy feels). reader is in uni like usual! not proofread. let me know if i’ve missed any of the kinks. SO fucking long, enjoy.

also anon i couldn't resist doing nsfw stuff, part of the headcanons too, it's just brief looks into their sex life with reader!

warnings: sugar daddy!au, discussion of kinks like mutual masturbation, eating out/cunnilingus, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), oral fixation, mirror sex, public sex, quickies, wax play, ice play, bondage, shibari, humiliation, praise, daddy kink, blowjob, deep-throating, double penetration (dp), (consensual) somnophilia, clothed sex, cuckholding, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, gagging, shower sex, phone sex, riding, doggy, spanking (also with a paddle)

members: johnny, doyoung, yuta, jaehyun, jaemin, kun

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

JOHNNY

lawd this man. i’d say that a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship is lowkey really fun when he wants to be.

even if he’s older and may be out of the loop he still wants to know what the ‘younger’ kids are doing nowadays as if he’s like 30 years older.

he’s not he’s just being dramatic

generous with his money. always tells you it’s just a gift, or it’s reward for you behaving well but he just really likes giving you money.

buys you the craziest gift and shrugs when you ask about it

gets you the prettiest outfits

acts like a kid in public LOL its honestly endearing.

the poor man has so much stress on him from his job that he’s very at ease when you ask to go on a date

if you’re talkative, he’s one to be a bit more quiet in order to hear you vent or just talk about stuff (since he’s pretty talkative too)

but if you’re a little more introverted, he doesn’t mind leading the conversation. just wants to make sure you feel heard, whether you can talk for days or would rather not say a word at all

loves u the way you are :)

tries his best to help you with uni stuff. always distracting you with hands on your body tho, and also a bit confused by your major. he’s trying his best.

would unironically fuck you on a bed full of money, im not kidding

the bank is so suspicious as to why he’s drawing so much money from the atm all at one go but it’s really to just admire you naked on shades of green. the sheets smelled like copper after it was lowkey disgusting

the whole sugar daddy thing would feed into his daddy kink, likes it even in normal circumstances like asking him to buy something for you

“what’s the magic word, princess?”

“please?”

“nuh uh, baby.”

“can i have this, daddy?” you put on your best pout and it doesn’t take long for him to cave tbh

mix between being soft and rough with you in the bedroom. surprisingly, his voice is more levelled and calm when he’s punishing you for being a brat, and when he’s rough it’s more of a softer reason (something like he missed you on his work trip or he got a bit of a scare when you get hurt or stuff like that)

always gives you what you want tho, would tease you for a bit, but like i said he caves easily and just ends up allowing you to cum because he hates to see his baby all worked up

would like stuff like quickies before a meeting, under the table shit. loves your pussy, boosts his ego when you’re writhing under him bc of his tongue and his fingers

the bedroom would mostly involve him giving praise to your cunt lol he’s obsessed. face-sitting, etc. would fucking love mirror sex holy shit (esp when you’re at a event and he can’t control himself, both mirror kink and quickie kink go brrr), clothed sex in his office, lots of praise from him, turned on when you CRY bc he’s making you feel so good. cocky bastard

DOYOUNG

your sugar daddy? or your mom? this man will NOT stop worrying about you

“do you have enough money? need me to give you more? how bout that carnival you were planning to go with your friends? aren’t the tickets and rides super expensive?”

doyoung please calm down your baby has enough cash

really doting sugar daddy! wants your best interest in mind and is the one to set boundaries in the relationship

when you’re getting your allowance, if you need more money etc, he’s usually the one planning for dates as well as choosing the outfits for events he needs to attend

likes more to follow you where you want on dates. doesn’t care much for his own interests when he’s with you. like he’ll go into a store to find suits and stuff but most of the time he’s accompanying you into the shops you want to go to

heart fills with pride when you confidently explain that you’re doyoung’s plus one and lover at events, when you claim that you’re his.

would purposely go to uni so your friends can see you with him lol. pulling up in his sports car and stuff and lean against it outside of campus

you’re like flustered and keep asking why he’s here.

“i’m picking you up for our date.”

“but you aren’t supposed to come until later! i’m not even ready…”

“just wanted to see you, angel. i’ll wait here till you get ready.”

is one to buy you like expensive gifts that he’ll only see. a promise ring, a necklace with his initials, a clutch that you use for events. they’re always really expensive that you never fail to gasp when you take it out of the gift bag. he loves that reaction

gentler dom in private. honestly makes love to you as opposed to rough fucking. there’s times where he comes home stressed and wants to take it out on you. you are NOT against it and yes he does it but is so sweet with aftercare right after.

but most of the time he’s actually pretty gentle and will only transition into a rougher person if you ask for it.

like johnny, he really likes eating you out, but believes that he should get equal treatment. loves to see you taking his dick, in your mouth, up your pussy. when you’re struggling is when he goes crazy. because he’s not forceful most of the time, seeing you deep-throating him really gets him going bc what’s better than your partner wanting to subject themselves to discomfort just to please you?

oral fixation 100%. likes you when you’re sucking on stuff like mentioned above. bonus if there’s drool coming out the sides of your mouth

bc of this he’d love mutual masturbation. more disappointed than mad when you act up, ignores you when you’re asking for him and only shoots you a raised eyebrow. he’s so smitten with you that he has to turn away to hide the smile when you’re begging.

that said, he also likes it when you beg. and like johnny, he’ll give it to you bc he’s just… so in love with you lmao

YUTA

very different when he’s in public vs when he’s with you at home/in private

doesn’t look like it but he’s mushy when he’s with you, always hands on your hips, hands in your hair, legs in his lap

crazy about you

sleeps half naked all the time, so he can feel you closer to him

times with him are always suggestive tbh but yuta likes riling you up in general

it doesn’t always lead to sex, just general make-out sessions and squeezes on your ass etc

that being said, yuta’s genuinely pretty stoic in public, bc he’s got an “image” to keep up that only makes you roll ur eyes

you find it funny sometimes and you live to make him smile slightly when you do something cute on your outings.

makes you hold onto his arm when you have outings, kinda likes the sight tbh. sometimes would hold your hand in the pocket of his coat.

likes to take you out to eat. feels satisfied when you’re eating the things you like whether it’s fast food or dessert

surprisingly really easy to talk to i guess, experienced from his time around the world and learns a lot fo things. has a lot of experience with business in japan so he likes to teach you a bit of the language while drinking at a bar or something. also teaches you the customs in drinking or alcohol games that they do in japan.

likes kissing you in public just to make other people annoyed

also likes to tease you when you’re out

but if it’s the other way? tease him and you’ll get your punishment alright

the fastest way to shut you up is when he threatens to take his black card away

one to make you sit you in his meetings with a vibrator up your cunt. fucking filthy ass

turns up the setting when people are explaining stuff to him at the office. smiles when he sees you twitch and the business partner thinks it’s bc of him

yuta’s nice to at least get the quieter ones tho so don’t worry.

lowkey has a language kink, idk idk. teaches you the lewdest words in public and doesn’t tell you the meaning, asks you to moan it out in the bedroom and he nearly cums from it. he finally tells you what it means after and you whack him after, he only laughs

if u want to rile him up, just use those words and he’ll get insanely hard

sex with him is heavenly. ALSO the type to fuck you in his office/against the window of his office. yum

would have a bit of a kink for public sex, like in a dressing room of a high-end designer store. pays the staff there to keep their mouths shut if their manager asks why there’s underwear in the dressing room.

yuta asked you to walk out the store without underwear :( poor baby :( well too bad yuta doesn’t care

doms most of the time, but likes to see you work for it on his dick. more in private and he leans back and lets you do all the work until you’re begging for him to do the fucking

humiliation is a big yes, using a paddle to spank you is something he would wanna try too

wouldn’t mind some bondage (shibari omfg!!!!!), wax play, ice play, one of the more explorative ones when in the bedroom

JAEHYUN

observant when you want something. either you’re looking at something online or when you stop by a shop’s display case, he’s getting it for you by the next time you meet

very doting on you, always helping you with uni work, helping to solve your friend’s relationship problems LMAO he’s all up in your shit.

not hesitant with affection when he’s showing you off/trying to get someone jealous. ofc his ears will show but he takes pride in handling your ass in public lol

has no patience to deal with people who questions your relationships. would stuff a huge sum of money down their pants just for them to shut the fuck up

he loves you, you love him, what’s more is there to question?

this man keeps wanting to update his wardrobe its lowkey like “uggghh… another designer store???” and he just rolls his eyes at your groans.

it’s funny, but he makes it up to you instantly when he brings you to one of your favourite stores later

mix of doyoung and johnny, believes that there should be equal things in a relationship but at the same time he loves you too much that just HAS to buy you that dress you were whining about

events with him are pretty annoying bc he’s pretty particular about his outfits so your fits always have to match with his. in colour, in brand etc

you always look good by the end of it though so who’s really losing tbh. he has an eye for fashion

likes when you take him to food places he’s never heard of before. doesn’t exactly mind expensive restaurants but likes it when you take the lead in dates and you bring him to where you want to go

i think we established this thru the fandom but this man is obsessed with breeding/creampie-ing you. likes to see it seeping it out of you after he finishes. convinces himself he doesn’t intend to do it but always cums inside

wouldn’t mind toys (kinda like dp, where he’s in you while the toy’s up your ass). would use the toys together with his tongue/fingers to make you absolutely lose it too.

i feel like he would like cuckholding but isn’t one to last to the end LMAO he’s too jealous and competitive for that.

semi-public sex ftw. a hand in your underwear at dinner or fucking yourself back onto his cock under the table as he’s in a meeting, either online or in person

also like yuta, likes seeing you lose it on his dick as he lets you do all the work, only helping you when he finds you’re moving too slow or when you’re getting tired

oh my god also another one to fuck you with cash, just not with the actual cash, but more of the stuff that he buys you. expensive dress, dangling of your bracelet, whew

also SOMNOPHILIA!!! omg (consensual ofc). when you moan quietly in your sleep as he inserts his dick, the unconscious spreading of your legs drives him crazy

JAEMIN

another one who’s generous with his money. wires you cash whenever he wants to or feels like it

shows interest in the course/major you’re studying in and actually does some reading so he can help you with your assignments. kinda like jaehyun but less interested in your personal life

if you want him to know, you’ll tell him, if not he won’t purposely pry into it

a little closer to your age so he understands the stress if you decide to put up an attitude. he’s patient, usually you’ll come back to apologise or offer to go on a date to make it up to him. he coos and gives in immediately, letting you love him in your way that he forgets you were ever mean to him

as for dates, he wouldn’t mind to go anyway but loves taking you to some of his fav cafes. the people in those different cafes know him and he always tips generously, so they usually have a table reserved for the two of you

like johnny, he would let you talk if you’re extroverted, would take the lead if you rather not talk, but at the end of day wants you to be comfortable around him

sometimes doubts himself, idk, whether he’s too young or not giving you enough cash, but you’re always there to reassure him.

would go to uni WITH you just to relive his younger days lmfao. bc he’s younger and looks younger he’d turn heads with questions like “is he a new student… i’ve never seen him before” you just let out a sigh as he giggles

shows you off at events, but is a little possessive. always has an arm around you, or an eye on you.

doesn’t like when people look at you in a sexual light

like i said before in other posts, he’s a gentle dom when he wants to be, but will NOT hesitate to put you in your place if you act up

might take away his black card, reduce the amount of times he’ll take you out, cut down on your allowance whatever

even in the bedroom too, just fucking mean if you decide to be a brat. orgasm denial, the flip side too like overstimulation, gagging, rendering you speechless literally when he fucks your face or makes you cum for the nth time. hair pulling holy shit.

okay but although he isn’t always mean, there’s some days when he still wants to treat you as such, but is softer. letting you breathe in between orgasms, praises you for taking his cock for the nth time instead of just asking you to shut up.

fucks on everywhere but the bed too. on the counters, in the shower, against the wall/floor, carrying you

especially likes the shower. uses the shower head to see your body jerk in sensitivity and he relishes in that.

phone sex is a big thing too, esp when he’s on business trips. wants to hear you when you’re bouncing on a toy as he jerks off in the hotel suite

KUN

another parent-like sugar daddy, although he’s worried about your daily life and whether you’re good at school, with your family.

is another one to also show interest in your course/major. would try his best to help you with your major but his answers are really long-winded so you tune it out after like three sentences LOL

enjoys taking you on dates. they’re usually at night since he likes to work overtime too. poor man is addicted to his work and he’s always busy so he feels weird if he’s laying around doing nothing.

will only leave it alone when you coax him out of his comfy office chair

also one to keep upgrading his closet it’s so annoying. one look from kun though and you’re shutting up because you know what he’ll do. even if you do shut up, he’ll still bring it up later anyway.

unlike jaehyun, he would rather shop for suits so he can ‘keep up with the trends’

like jaehyun, will also put people in their place when they talk about your relationship.

they don’t know shit so he just asks for their number and wires money to them so they can keep quiet. baits them by saying that he’s giving money, but it’s very little. $15 tops. it’s so funny seeing them freak out and get pissed at kun for tricking them, just says “but i never said how much. now keep your fucking trap shut unless you want me to take away your money. i already have your details.” (i know it doesn’t work that way just act like it does.)

mean ass dom. he’s really sweet on the outside but in the bedroom he kinda switches. there’s his good days, but most of the time he’s rough and asking who’s his slut

(you. you are.)

there ARE days where he goes a little gentler. when you’re aching from doing schoolwork or stressed then that’s when he fucks to make you feel better. when you’re fine tho he has no problem breaking you down and making you call out his name like it’s a prayer

boundaries/comfort is VERY important in his book. before you got into the whole ‘mean dom’ dynamic he always asks you if you’re okay with it. if you’re together for a while, he would ask you less and be rougher, but make sure you’re okay after each orgasm.

sensory play/sensory deprivation. blindfolding you is one of his favs. likes it when you jerk in shock bc you don’t know if he’s there or not

pussy. slaps.

spanking!

enjoys cuckholding like its a GAME. calls you a whore for wanting his friends’ cocks and then snatches you back to finish inside of you.

of course this is all done with everyone’s consent, and if you feel uncomfortable you’ll either use the green-yellow-red system or your safe word.

oh my god, also blindfolding AND cuckholding. makes you guess who is he with such a calm voice it scares you. you aren’t sure if he’s even enjoying fucking you bc he speaks so smoothly without a hitch in his voice.

wrong answer and you’re dead LMAO good luck

extremely gentle with aftercare tho. doting on you like doyoung does, draws a bath, changes the sheets if he needs to, brings you a cup of water.

you question him, too, when he hardly reacts/feels almost stoic as he fucks you in a cuckholding situation with his friends that you’re worried he’s become bored with you. he’s so sweet to reassure you that he only does it for the dom role that he’s in, but he truly loves your cunt and how it hugs his cock so well.

not to say that he doesn’t like pillow talk but bc he’s the one doing most of the things to make you comfortable, he rather sit in silence and just trail a hand over your features.

kun will let you talk if you need to, but sometimes you talk so much he finds himself dozing off. he doesn’t mean to! he’s just genuinely tired. even so though, he will try his best to stay awake until you fall asleep. feels safe knowing you’re asleep before succumbing to slumber himself

explicit nsfw under here. go back if you don’t want to read it!

“oh my god-!” your hands tangle itself in his hair, holding it close to your cunt as his skilled tongue works over your clit. it drags up and down the sensitive area, while his fingers thrust deeper and deeper into you with you arousal providing lubrication. it’s dizzying, how your skin heats up so easily with his touch that you’re falling apart at the seams. the silk sheets he has on his queen-sized feel soft against your skin, giving just a bit of comfort in contrast with the squirming that you do. “that’s right baby, let it all go f’r me, pretty.” they groan into your core, increasing the pace of their fingers, continually reaching that spot that it sends shivers up your whole body as he hums and laps up at your slick. “so sweet.”

— JOHNNY, DOYOUNG

“that’s right, lovely, fuck yourself with my cock,” he only groans softly, briefly checking if his microphone is off. he sneaks a glance under his table where you’re currently moving your hips onto him, on all fours as someone in the finance department goes off onto something he deems boring. biting his lip, he can see how you turn your head back to meet his eyes from below, face morphed into pleasure that all you can manage is a pathetic lolled tongue while your eyes roll back. he wished you went faster, though, snapping finally when the finance director’s speech reaches an all-time boring state. kicking away his chair, he leans on the table for support and pumps his hips into you. “oohhh fuck- mmfng, uh uh!” is all you can manage, not caring for how your head bangs against the front covering of the table as he fucks into you with impatience.

— YUTA, JAEHYUN

your head’s pushed into the pillow, mushing up against your head as it soaks up all the sweat that forms on your forehead. you’re whining into the sheets as he continues to pound into you, roughness through the rough. you love it, though. “who’s making you feel this good, whore?” you can’t even answer, distracted by the squelching noises of your dripping cunt that it makes you squeeze your eyes tight. “look at me when you’re being fucked. want to be blindfolded again?” he pulls on your hair from the back, forcing your head into an uncomfortable position to see how his cock goes in and out of you. with your head turned to the side, he kisses you messily, sloppily, and one last deep thrust has your body spasming from the immense pleasure. you can’t return the kiss, moaning instead into the other’s mouth while your back arches to feel every inch of his cock.

— JAEMIN, KUN

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1kook · 3 years

Text

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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navegandoaciegas · 3 years

Text

1-2-3 Way

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: smut, bed sharing, there was only one bed???, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, dom!Steve, sub!reader, switch!Bucky, unprotected sex, praise, slight degradation, overstimulation, face fucking, fingering, slight spanking, edging, doggy style, aftercare.

Summary: There’s only one bed and you have to share it with your childhood friends Steve and Bucky.

A/N: Listen… there was only one bed is my favorite cheesy trope, I’m sorry. Thank you for the commission, @maryfloat , I hope you like this!!

It’s so clichè, the way that the receptionist offers you a tight lipped smile and an apology. There must have been an error with the reservation, maybe the server crashed or something, she says, you’ve booked one room, and that room has one bed only. Coincidentally, everyone’s in town at the same time as you, and the only hotel in the area is fully booked.

How unfortunate.

She hands you the keys whilst Bucky hauls your suitcase and his up the stairs, and Steve follows behind him. She eyes them warily and whispers to you, asks if you’re safe and comfortable, and apologises again for the inconvenience.

When Steve, ever the gentleman, proposes they sleep on the floor, you’re almost tempted to accept and thank him. They’re big and strong, and one night on the cold, hard floor won’t kill them.

You hate sharing beds anyways. It gets too warm with more than one body rolling around, and then someone hogs all the blankets, or kicks you in the shins, or elbows you in the ribs, and you can’t catch a break.

Instead you scoff and wave him dismissively. ‘I trust you guys more than I trust myself.’

And you do, really. You’ve known them since those awkward middle school days, where Bucky was chubby and covered in painful acne, and Steve was dangerously skinny and a foot shorter than you. You’ve fallen asleep on their shoulders on long road trips, occasionally napped on their legs in their dorm rooms, fallen asleep on Steve’s hospital bed when he was a frail kid and you and Bucky took turns visiting him.

You trust them, you really do, but still, sharing a tiny bed with them seems more intimate, definitely more wrong, than anything you’ve ever done.

It sends a weird signal down your stomach that your brain can’t quite interpret. You’re not anxious, but as you sit sandwiched between them, you can’t say you’re relaxed either.

Bucky sits to your right, computer perched on his lap, open on the Netflix account he pays for and Steve and you leech off of. He makes the most money with his waitressing job, the old ladies love tipping him for his flirty remarks and bright smiles, so it’s only fair.

Steve munches on a chalky protein bar to your right, a frown on his forehead as he chews with his mouth open and judges Bucky’s recommended section.

“You’re not making me watch another sci-fi, Barnes.”

“And you’re not forcing me through another Studio Ghibli movie, Rogers.”

“C’mon, at least those are relaxing-,”, “and cute,” you quip, intercepting Steve’s snack and taking a bite out of it just to spite him. He side eyes you, pinching your side as hard as he can.

“Oh? I forgot you were the ones paying for the account.”

“This is literal blackmail, holding the damn Netflix over our heads like that.”

“Not sure that blackmail is the word you’re looking for, but go off, bud.”

“Don’t smartmouth me.”

“Or what?”

They bicker like they’ve always done, and you’ve been friends with them long enough to have learnt how to drown out their voices when they fight.

Sometimes your friendship feels like it’s always been, playful, sibling like. They roughhouse you, you make fun of them. It’s familiar, warm, comforting.

No matter how bad school gets, no matter how uncertain your future seems, no matter how many times you get your heart broken, you know that Bucky, Steve and you will always be there to pick yourselves back up.

Some other times the lines get blurred, and it’s scary. But the scarier it gets, the more rewarding it becomes to look for signs, finding them in the smallest of things, like how Steve gets all sulky when you go out on dates, or how Bucky constantly seeks your approval for whatever he does.

You space out as they pick a movie, your mind eerily quiet, your body weirdly warm.

There’s a pit in your stomach that you can’t understand fully. It’s been there a while, ever since your friendship has started to shift, and your stares have been lingering as much as their affectionate touch.

Your eyes travel from Bucky’s black t-shirt to his side profile, tracing the gentle slope of his nose and his pouty lips. Lately, you’ve been looking at him a lot more, catching yourself in the act and shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

What thoughts, you don’t know. Your mind is blank more often than not when you’re set on him. When you’re with them.

You’re doing it again, unconsciously, until Steve elbows you in the side, and you’re rudely snapped out of your reverie.

“You’re too quiet,” he mumbles, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Which is weird since you never shut the fuck up,” quips Bucky, hitting you with his shoulder, effectively bringing you back to reality.

You resist laughing because you’ll never give him the satisfaction, and just swing back at him.

“I’m just tired, ‘s all. My neck hurts a lot, guess we’re getting old, huh.”

Bucky just shrugs and presses play on the movie they’ve chosen. You smile at Steve as convincingly as you can to get him off your case.

He nods at you, not quite sold, but leaves it at that, knowing better than to prod you.

“Want me to give you a massage?” he asks, wiggling his fingers in front of your face.

“Please?” you pout, turning your back to him.

Your thought process was that you can never refuse Steve’s healing hands. You didn’t think it through so much, clearly, as he kneads the knots in your neck and you feel your lower body coming alive, a warmth pooling awkwardly in your belly.

Bucky gives you the most offended, betrayed look you’ve ever seen, frowning and pouting like a petulant child.

“S’ not fair. I want a massage too,” he whines, shimmying his shoulders in your direction, offering you the best puppy eyes he can muster.

Cute, you think. “Gross,” you say, “I’ll give you one if you stop with the face.”

He just sticks his tongue out, wiggling between your legs.

The movie plays in the background, your mind too focused on Steve’s warm hands on your bare skin and Bucky’s back muscles flexing under your touch.

The hot feeling in your chest is back when his eyes move from the screen to yours, a goofy smile on his lips, features relaxed.

You bury your hands in his silky hair, scratching his scalp. He almost moans, butting your palm like a kitten.

He’s so effortlessly sweet that it hurts.

It’s silent in a comfortable way, with the sound effect of the movie lulling you all, except your traitorous brain, in a serene state.

It’s a kids movie, and you’re just giving yourselves a massage like you’ve done hundreds of times before, but something feels different about it, in the way that Steve’s warm breath tickles your neck, or the way that Bucky turns around every few minutes just to smile at you.

At some point your hands stop moving, and your back is flush to Steve’s front as he holds you in his arms, Bucky’s head on your lap as he hugs your thighs to his body, fingers absentmindedly caressing your skin, hiking up your legs, higher and higher-, goosebumps erupting all over you. He stops just before the hem of your shorts, making his way down to your knee, just to do it all over again.

You can no longer deny the fluttering in your core, nor the slick gathering in your panties at the thought of what would happen if he just crept higher.

By the time that the end credits roll around, you're cocooned in their warmth, Bucky asleep on your stomach, your own eyes droopy. You’re drowsy, pliant in Steve’s hold as he adjusts you both comfortably on the pillows.

The last thing you feel, as darkness envelops the room, is his lips on your forehead as he whispers to you good night.

You hate sharing beds, but when you wake up in the middle of the night between them, you think you may not hate it as much as you thought.

Bucky is a messy sleeper, arm swung over your hips, legs sprawled over half the mattress, face buried in the pillow next to yours, back gently rising with every breath he takes.

Steve is more put together. He sleeps on his side, lips parted, one arm under the pillow, the other close to your side, his fingers intertwined with yours.

You don’t know how long you spend staring at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest, wondering if this shift in your friendship will bring you closer or break you apart in the long run. You don’t want to entertain the chances of them breaking your heart, or you breaking theirs.

Even the possibility of having to choose between one of the two seems absurd to you.

The bed creaks under Bucky’s weight as he turns to you, tightening his hold on your hips. You’re paralized as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, a breathy whine escaping his lips. All your blood travels to your face when you feel his hard on rub against your legs, his hips uncounsciously rutting on you.

“So soft,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

You’re staring at each other, almost in a daze, and maybe it’s because it’s pitch black outside and you’re in your own little dimension, or maybe it’s the adoration in his bleary eyes, but you don’t turn away when he closes the distance between you.

The kiss you share is soft, lazy, tentative.

You prod his mouth open with yours, tongues swirling together with no rush and no shame. You’d imagined kissing your best friend would feel more awkward than this, and instead his warmth, his taste, his hungry kisses, everything about it seems natural to you, like it’s what you’re supposed to have been doing all this time, a chance you were too scared to take.

You’re so lost in the moment that you barely register the lips on your neck and another set of hands making its way under your t-shirt, settling on your stomach, fingers barely grazing the underside of your boobs.

As soon as his mouth detaches from your own, Steve is pouncing on you, his kiss more rough and demanding than Bucky’s, tongue less hesitant as it explores you, wiping any remnant of sleep out of your mind.

You’re breathless as he invades all your senses, barely wrapping your head around the fact that your shy friend is eating you whole and the flirty, outgoing one is just looking with hunger and rubbing himself on your leg.

Steve breaks away from you, a string of drool connecting you, his eyes dark with desire. He pecks your lips again, smirking at you as he lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, to the column of your neck, down your collarbones, settling between your tits.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, grasping the hem of your t-shirt, “Can I touch you? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod fervently, growing needy with each passing second, “Please Steve, just touch me.”

Bucky gets bolder, kissing you with more conviction this time. Your clothes are shedded, his bare skin heated against yours, your hands in his hair.

Steve takes his sweet time making his way downwards, leaving a trail of bruises on your chest, stomach, hips, kneading your ass. He settles between your legs, looking up at you as he closes his mouth on your clothed pussy, sucking through your panties and leaving a wet mark on them.

You’re embarrassingly horny, arousal dripping out of you, nipples stiff as Bucky plays with them. You want him to rip your panties to shreds and take you right there and then, but Steve has other plans, enjoying the way you’re so pliant underneath him.

He grabs you by the hips, turning you around with your face down and your ass up in the air. The string of your underwear is almost swallowed between your puffy folds, stained with your slick.

Steve takes a deep breath before tugging the string up, teasing your swollen clit with the material, raptured by the way you’re so open and ready for them, glistening with desire.

Bucky sits back on the headboard, eyes half lidded, legs spread before your face. You trace the outline of his hard cock through his boxers, mouth watering at the idea of him inside you, filling you up.

Steve doesn’t give you the time to touch him before he’s tugging you upwards by the hair, flush to his chest. His breath tickles your neck as he teases you through your panties.

“Are you gonna be good for me? For us?”

You don’t have to think about it, strings of ‘yes’, ‘please, ‘touch me’, leaving your lips as if having a mind of their own. It would be embarrassing to be this wanton with anyone else, but with them, everything is like it’s meant to be.

“Then be a good girl, okay? Show Bucky how good you can be with that pretty mouth of yours,” he grunts in your ear, pressing his hard on against your ass cheeks, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

You nod, grind yourself on his cock, so pent up and desperate for release that you rub your legs together just to feel the string of your panties digging in your folds, hoping it would help soothe the ache in your cunt.

“Of course you have, you little slut,” he grunts, pushing your head down on the mattress as Bucky tugs his underwear down.

Yours is ripped by Steve, thrown somewhere in the room, exposing your quivering hole to the cold air. Arching your back, you silently beg for something, anything, which comes in the form of a sting and a loud smack reverberating in the stuffy room.

Steve smacks your pussy again, and again, and again, until the sharp pain in your clit becomes so pleasant that you could come just from that. Bucky wastes no time yanking your head towards his crotch, slapping his heavy cock on your cheek, until your face burns with humiliation and need.

Your hands tremble as you reach for him, hesitating before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, savoring his musky pre cum. You swirl your tongue around the head, teasing his sensitive slit with kitten licks, hands fondling with his balls.

Steve’s thick finger prodding at your entrance makes you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to shove your face down his cock until you’re coughing, lungs burning, clawing at his things as he holds you down.

“Calm down, Bucky. Stop bein’ so desperate,” Steve’s voice is muffled in your ears as you struggle for air, feeling light headed.

He plunges a finger inside your pussy, then another, eased by the embarrassing amount of wetness dripping out of you.

Bucky whines something in return, yanking you up. Tears blur your vision as you heave, barely getting enough air in your lungs before he pushes you down again, using your head as a flashlight.

He keeps you still, nose buried in the dark hair of his pelvis, as he stands on his haunches. Grabbing your face with both hands, he starts relentlessly pummelling inside you, fucking your mouth with abandon.

With a broken moan he thrusts all the way down, his balls slapping your chin, fingers clamping around your nose when you start gagging.

“Oh, she likes that. She’s squeezing my fingers,” Steve says, scissoring his fingers between your gummy walls, “Do it again.”

Bucky pinches your nose one more time, depriving you of all air. Dark spots start appearing at the sides of your vision, mind hazy. He lets up before you faint, barely giving you time before he’s stuffing your mouth with his cock once more.

Steve lays down between your legs, face up. From his perspective he can see your glistening pussy, your tits bouncing with the force of Bucky’s thrusts, and his cock disappear between your abused lips. You’re being so good to them that he feels like rewarding you.

His hands guide you to sit down on his face, your moans muffled as he latches onto your swollen clit. He sucks on it until you’re on the edge of your orgasm, walls quivering with the need to release.

He stops just before you can reach your peak, and spanks your clit again.

“You’re not coming on my mouth now.”

Your throat vibrates around Bucky’s cock with moans of pleasure, spurring him on to hold you down longer, chasing his own orgasm with a string of curses.

“She’s gonna faint, idiot,” Steve scolds him, tearing you away from Bucky’s cock, drool dripping down your sore jaw.

“She can handle it,” rasps Bucky, rolling his eyes.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you frown, slapping Bucky’s hands away when he reaches for you.

“Brats, both of you,” Steve sighs condescendingly, “Be more gentle. And you,” he warns, pinching your inner thigh, “don’t talk unless it’s to beg for more, ‘kay?”

There’s a pause, an awkward moment when you don’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, waiting for Steve to take control again, like he always does.

“So-” Bucky starts, looking up at Steve for guidance, “What now?”

“You’re both- y’know, it’s your first time actually doing it, right?” he asks after pondering for a second, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Yes,” you both respond, and he hums.

“Then you two should go first, be each other’s first times. It makes more sense. I got her ready, so it shouldn’t hurt.”

The idea of Bucky’s cock inside you makes you a bit anxious, considering how much you struggled taking him in your mouth, jaw still sore from his abuse, but it also fills you with warmth.

You trust them blindly, and you want this, you want him to be the first one inside you for whatever reason.

There’s no need for words between you, a tiny nod and a reassuring smile all you need to settle on the pillows, spreading your legs for Bucky to settle in between.

He’s always so sure of himself, but in the moment he looks like a lost puppy. He pumps himself a few times, and braces his weight on one arm as he lines his cock with your entrance.

He gives you one more kiss, tasting himself on your lips, before pushing past your entrance. The tip is barely in by the time that you screech, the pain sharper than you imagined, and Bucky halts immediately despite looking like he’s about to bust on the spot.

Your pussy feels like it’s burning, and no amount of fingers inside you could have prepared you for the stretch of your walls.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers in your ear, a hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you, “You’re doing so good, being such a good girl, you’re so perfect. It will go away before you realize, promise.”

“Okay, okay, I can do this,” you pant, digging your nails in Bucky’s back.

“Let’s switch, it will hurt less if you’re on top,” Steve suggests, and you and Bucky comply.

He lays down on the pillows as you straddle his hips, propping yourself up on his toned abs. Steve kneels at your side, holding you up as you hover over him.

Your heart’s beating out of your chest as you grasp Bucky’s cock, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before inching down on him, whimpering with every centimeter that gets swallowed by your gummy walls.

The stretch feels like it’s splitting you open, and if it weren’t for Steve’s strong arms, you’d collapse and cry on Bucky’s chest.

Steve whispers praises and reassuring words in your ear and kisses your tears away, swirling his fingers around your clit to help you out, and Bucky caresses the sides of your waist, mumbling broken apologies to you, kissing your neck.

Once you finally bottom out, you still and slump on Bucky’s shoulder, burying your nose in his hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.

The pain is throbbing, burning, but it becomes more subtle and bearable the longer Bucky stays inside you.

“Okay, it’s getting better” you wheeze in an attempt to encourage yourself, “But I can’t feel my legs now.”

They break in a fit of laughter, easing the tension in the room.

“Let’s switch again,” Bucky proposes, slightly out of breath with the way that your pussy is squeezing him in a vice, “I can move.”

You nod, clinging to his neck as he lifts you up, careful not to let his cock slip out of you.

“I want to feel you close,” Steve says, slightly out of breath, “Lay her on me.”

They help you lay on his chest, Bucky’s cock still buried inside you, the pain fading away in a dull sting.

You’re sandwiched between their bodies, enveloped by their warmth and affection, coated in your slick and their sweat, and despite the discomfort, you’ve never felt as full of love as now.

Bucky seeks permission with his eyes, then reassurance from Steve, and starts rocking his hips tentatively, biting hard on his lips to keep himself from cumming embarrassingly fast.

His cock drags against your walls, a ring of white cream slowly accumulating around the base.

It’s not painful anymore, slightly uncomfortable at times when he’s accidentally too rough, but the burn is now a simmering heat that grows in your core with every thrust.

Steve sings praises in your ear, “Look how good you’re doin’, taking Bucky’s cock so well, you’re such a good girl,” whilst Bucky rutts needily on you.

He’s sloppy in his movements, and his hips don’t have a rhythm to them. He takes you high, close to a release, just to fuck it up again when he stutters, involountarily edging you over and over again.

“I’m close, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he moans.

In a blur you’re on your stomach. Bucky positions you on your knees and pummels inside you again, thrusting more forcefully as he loses himself in the pleasure.

You whimper between Steve’s tender kisses before Bucky tears you away from him, yanking you flush against his chest.

“I love you, I love you, love you so much, love you,” he keeps mumbling, tightly clutching his arms around your stomach and tits, slamming you hard on him.

At that angle Bucky’s cock pushes against a sensitive spot inside you that makes the coils in your stomach tighter, your clit throbbing and your walls clamping down on him.

Steve, never one to be outdone, sits back on his haunches and manhandles your head down again until you’re faced with his hard, leaking cock.

He’s trimmed more neatly than Bucky, but he’s just as big and intimidating.

He slaps his cock on your lips, smearing his precum on you. You’re a moaning mess, automatically taking him in your mouth, savoring his musk on your tongue.

Your jaw is still sore but you do your best to accommodate Steve, eager to please. You relax your muscles and let Bucky’s thrusts do the work for you, already lightheaded with the lack of air.

They keep stuffing you with their cocks, bouncing you between each other, the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy and the bed creaking filling the room.

Bucky’s fingers teasing your clit, your lungs burning, your vision going spotty, it’s all too much for you.

Just as you think you’re about to reach your peak, you feel Bucky pause and stutter, a choked moan escaping his throat as he comes, stuffing you full of his warm cum. Steve comes at the same time, and you almost choke on his release as he spills his load down your throat.

It feels good, you’re fuller than you’ve ever been, but it’s still not enough to push you over the edge.

You both collapse on Steve, exhausted, cum pouring out of your hole and onto the sheets. You expect him to take you immediately after, instead he snakes a hand between your bodies, finding your sensitive clit, overstimulated with all the touching.

“You did so well, baby, you were so good for Bucky. Now cum on my fingers, cum for us,” he moans, twirling your bud between his fingers.

Pent up as you are, it doesn’t take long for you to finally come, almost blacking out with the intensity of your orgasm, your limbs shaking and quivering between theirs.

When you come down from your high, you’re tired out, your whole body is sore, your hips and legs hurt, and the cum seeping out of your entrance reminds you of the burning pain there, now back with a vengeance.

When morning comes, you’ll have to remind Steve to buy you Plan B.

The exhaustion catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow, a loud ring in your ears as you barely register your surroundings, Bucky already asleep by your side in true Bucky fashion while Steve takes care of you both, cleaning you up and tucking you in bed.

He whispers ‘I love you’ and kisses the tip of your nose.

Maybe one day you’ll say it back.

For now, you let yourself rest in their embrace, always the three of you like it’s meant to be.

—

Damn, 4k words of porn. This felt like giving birth or something sksjshj

Please, share and leave a comment if you can 🥰

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #steve x bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut

boxer!tom x reader — smut.

summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

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bentobarnes · 3 years

Text

『𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥』

note : my requests are OPEN! Feel free to send me story requests♡

pairings : bucky barnes x rogers!reader

word count : 870

request by @a-j-stuffs (thank you!) : steve finds out that his little sister is not innocent anymore.

warnings : 18+, smut, cursing words, nipple playing, fingering

*feedback is appreciated. please reblog so it can reach more people♡

Sometimes having two super soldiers in your life wasn’t a positive thing. No, it was actually very annoying especially if you had to spend the whole weekend with them.

Being the sister of Captain America himself was like being behind a walking wall. People never really cared about you. All they cared about was your brother Steve Rodgers but you loved him anyway. You appreciated his will to protect you but sometimes he was just too much.

It wasn’t like you had no one to protect you. Far from it. You were not only his sister but the girlfriend of one of the deadliest assassins, the Winter Soldier. Although that’s not right. He was Bucky now. James Buchanan Barnes a friend, an avenger, and an amazing boyfriend.

Bucky showed you a new way of living. With him, you felt free and safe. With him, nothing else mattered like the whole world closed its doors and it was only you and him.

You were with him for over a year and you both lived in Wakanda. Away from the noise of big cities, away from Steve and the others.

Who thought that you will find a new way to spend time at night or during the day when you had nothing to do or most of the time on purpose? You never thought that having sex with someone could be such a pleasant experience. You were wrong and James proved it to you very well.

Now almost half a year later you found out that you were even more sexually obsessed with him than he was with you. You loved to try new things in bed from cockwarming to different positions like 69 and doggy style.

You loved it but to be honest you loved it because it was with James. Steve had no idea about how his innocent and sweet sister turned out to be a slut for his best friend’s cock.

It was an early afternoon when Bucky came from work helping TÇhalla with something. He was tired but the moment he saw you wearing a tight, extra short dress that highlighted all your curves and if you bent a little it showed off your pretty, black thong bikini not to mention how your breasts were going to spill out from the front of the dress.

“There you are, Sergeant.” You approached him with a catwalk and placed your palms on his chest. He didn’t say anything at first just leaned down, placing his chin on your shoulder while his hands slid around your waist, down your back until they stopped at your ass, grabbing it eagerly.

The feeling of the soft skin squished under his palms made him groan, the little vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly he grabbed you by the butt and placed you on the kitchen counter, tearing your dress in sheds tossing it to the sides. Your panties followed after.

Your tits bounced when he vigorously started kissing your neck leaving red marks behind, down your throat and chest until his tongue captured one of your nipples.

Sucking harsh on your sensitive spot his fingers came down to rest between your legs. He slid his fingers through your soaking wet folds, the sound of splashing making you both moan.

“Already so fucking wet for me, doll. My pretty little princess.” He groaned while tickling your clit.

You unbuckled his belt and freed his already hard cock, the tip of it shining with pre-cum. Seeing his dick like this made the knot in your stomach untie and your juices made a mess around Bucky’s fingers.

He leaned against you making you lay on the counter. He was just about to slide his fucking precious cock into you that you craved all day when you heard a loud gasp.

Both of you turned your heads in panic at the sound. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve sitting next to the front door looking absolutely in shock.

Bucky quickly hid his dick back in his pants but the problem was you. You didn’t have any clothes to put on right now so all you could do was cover your parts with your hands and squeeze your tights together.

“Oh my god… What was that!” Steve exclaimed. “Bucky what are you doing to my sister!”

“Steve I’m 25! I’m not a kid anymore!” You shouted back at him not getting any of his overprotective shit anymore. “Besides I enjoyed it and you won’t stop me from having sex with James!”

Steve blushed embarrassed as his eyes darted between you and Bucky. “I hate to say this but I guess you are right. You are not a kid anymore and I know Bucky won’t ever hurt you. I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve confessed bringing his gaze down at his feet.

“Yayyy!” You jumped from the counter and went to hug Steve.

“Oh my god, doll! Come back here you are naked!” Bucky ran towards you and stopped you in your tracks enveloping you into his arms.

“Yeah, I absolutely forgot about that.” You murmured against his chest. Finally, your brother saw that you are not a kid anymore. You were an adult and adults get dicked down.

Tag list: @lovie-barnes , @iguana-eyanna , @littlecanadianlani , @bbl32

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gallys-wife · 3 years

Note

Hun if you could do like nsfw hcs like what their like in bed and/or what their kinks are that would be great✨also you're amazing✨✨✨✨✨

What The Maze Runner Characters are Like In Bed

First and foremost: No, You're amazing!! Secondly, I did just a sort of broad "What they're like in bed" one but I will also do their kinks, in a seperate post. Just to keep this from becoming too long because I do so many characters.

Warning: Sexual references, sexual themes, no explicit smut

Alby

Definitely cares about your pleasure above his own and always takes care of you first before himself. Eats you out like a champ.

Is slow and thorough and would worship your body, specifically anything you’ve admitted to being insecure about/he’s noticed you’re insecure about.

Aris

He is incredibly enthusiastic about every aspect of your sex life. He is always ready to try new things, and eager to figure out what you like best.

When he’s feeling playful he’s a little cheesy and uses dirty pick up lines to let you know he’s in the mood, but when he’s feeling more serious or you guys haven’t had the opportunity to do anything in a while he’ll full on start teasing you in public like brushing his fingers up your thigh or against your ass.

Ben

Ben is a hopeless romantic and would love the stereotype of having your first time being special with rose petals and silk sheets and candles, but obviously in the glade that’s not really feasible so let’s just close our eyes and pretend.

Gets embarrassed very easily when thinking about anything outside the box and will blush like a sinner in church. Eager to try anything you want to but gets kind of nervous the more adventurous they get. Refuses to try anything that could hurt you and it takes a lot of convincing for him to try anything like choking.

Brenda

Very kinky. Like the queen of kinks. And 100% a switch but dom leaning, if that makes sense. Very adventurous and always trying new things.

Doesn’t have many boundaries, and keeping it to the bedroom is a conservative idea to her. Will tease you in public, like full on getting you off with her hand under the table, or pulling you around the corner of a building to make out with you.

Clint

Very gentle and loves to take his time. Not really that vocal, and any sounds you make will make him blush but he loves them. He uses the noises you make to let him know what you like best.

Has to build up a lot of courage to let you know he’s interested but the more he does it the easier it is for him and he slowly becomes more and more shameless about it.

Frypan

Frypan has a very high sex drive. Any time you’re interested, he’s interested and he can last for a surprising amount of time.

Makes jokes during sex, but only in the begining when things are still a little playful. After that he gets a little more serious and then he’s down to business, doing his best to make sure you both get thoroughly satisfied.

Always makes sure you guys don’t have anything planned after sex because you will be too tired to do anything.

Gally

Sort of intense and serious in the moment but that just means he’s passionate. Very passionate.

He has a lot of stamina but not like ‘multiple rounds’ stamina, instead ‘one round lasts over an hour’ stamina. This is because he’s a builder and is in pretty good shape.

Because he’s so strong he has a habit of manhandling you whenever he wants something. Picking you up and laying you on the bed, positioning you far too easily right in the middle of sex so he can get a better angle, holding your hips down while he eats you out so you’re not squirming so much.

Harriet

100% A top all the time. Full fem!dom style, but in a different way then Brenda. Brenda gives me ‘latex suit and heels to step on you with’ dom whereas Harriet gives me ‘holding you by your hair while she pegs your ass doggy style’ vibes.

Will pointingly leave marks on you to let other people know you belong to her.

She’s also shameless about sex and will make innuendos in front of anyone.

Jeff

This is surprisingly good with his hands, and that’s really all he needs to get you off, tease you, or absolutely drive you mad.

He loves to see you riding him, not only because he’s a switch leaning towards a bottom and loves to see you on top of him and completely in control while he’s fucking you but also because he loves that he gets to see very inch of you.

Minho

Hate to say this but his pleasure is definitely more important to him than yours is though I don’t think he realizes that.

Amazing with his mouth, though. That man is very very talented with his mouth, his confidence had to come from somewhere.

Very confident in bed and this comes out by him being very dominant. He is always in control and not in a conscious way but in the ‘I want to do this so I’m going to do this and you’re not gonna stop me’ way.

Newt

A very thoughtful lover. Will spend hours upon hours just figuring out what you love best/where all your sweet spots are.

Will use these sweetspots against you to get you to do things he says outside of sex. He also uses them to tease you in public/get you horny.

Loves a vocal lover. Those are his favorite, every sound you make is like music to his ears and he will make it a little challenge with himself to see how loud he can get you. But on the same side of the coin he loves when you have to try and be quiet cause it just accentuates how much he affects you, watching you choke down moans and whimpers.

Teresa

She’s sort of scientific about it, not to be stereotypical but she definitely read some sort of medical book first to figure out all of the erogenous zones.

Likes to mark you up but in a subtle way, like under your clothes and out of sight, just for her to see as a reminder of your guys’ past times together.

Will ride your face while praising you. It just makes sense.

Thomas

His favorite time to have sex is early in the morning, when you guys are both still half awake and it’s all lazy and slow and you guys just take your time and appreciate it.

As we know he loves to do crazy shit without thinking of the consequences, so he most definitely is adventurous in bed. The second he discovered bondage, ofr yourself or for him, he fell in love. That is definitely his biggest kink.

Sonya

Very sweet and caring lover. Takes care of you thoroughly before taking care of herself, but isn’t completely selfless because the second you’re satisfied she is taking what she wants.

Teases you verbally the entire time, and despite being a sweet and caring lover she is absolutely into degrading her partner. She also loves to tease you in public, leaning over to whisper in your ear what she wants to do to you/have done to her later.

Winston

Loves foreplay. He could make out with you and grope like teenagers for hours before sex, he literally never gets tired of it.

So good with his mouth. Like surprisingly good with his mouth. Takes you apart in moments good with his mouth.

Very rough during actual sex and he feels sort of bad about it at first and tries to be gentler, especially if you bruise easily, but the minute you give him the go ahead it’s like unleashing an entirely new person.

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concentrateandpush · 3 years

Text

I come from a very lonely background, I barely ever saw my Mom other than when she would bring men back to fuck for money. So when I met Charles and he told me that he had a huge family, that was really exciting to me. They have a tradition where if someone is having a baby, they’ll all be around, waiting, supporting and helping the best they can.

The idea was a lot scarier than now, I started to feel contractions last night, but at around 5 this morning, they amped up a little and we called everyone over. We have a pool set up, a mattress on the floor with comfortable blankets, the fire is on and all ten of his siblings are here, Charles’s father, Keith and his three wives, Vanessa, Caroline and Sharon. It was weird when I met them, but it’s kinda sweet now.

“Can I get you anything babe?” Charles asks as his little sisters, triplets, jump on the mattress manically. With a little smile as I watch them, I shake my head “I’m good thank you”. I’m sat on the couch, naked, trying to bring myself to calm down. As a contraction hits, I steady myself, spreading my legs and shutting my eyes, Vanessa, Charles’s Mom comes and starts to rub my back in the exact right spot. “You’re doing great honey” she assures me as my stomach tightens. Taking some deep breaths, I blow them out with moans, trying to keep sound to a minimum.

“It hurts so bad” I whisper, tearing up a little as I feel myself, just to see if there’s any progress. “I know it does, it feels like only yesterday Sharon gave birth to the triplets, it feels like only two minutes ago I had Charles” she smiles and reaches her hand over my vagina, rubbing her palm over my clit and slipping a finger inside me. “You’re getting there, slowly, you’re a seven now” she says quietly. I groan and throw my head back “why is it taking so long?” I ask as Charles’s sister, Juno, comes and sits next to me “you didn’t expect them to just slide on out whilst you slept, right?” She chuckles and I roll my eyes.

“Oh, Ohh!” I cry out as I grip Juno’s hand, feeling myself peak. “How can I get things to speed up?” I cry as it comes down. “You’ve been doing this for.. thirty four hours now sweetheart, there’s not much you can do.. perhaps sex?” Vanessa suggests and I look to Charles who is talking with his Dad “he seems busy” I say softly “I.. maybe I’ll take myself away..” I say as I motion for them to help me up. Things got so hard about a week ago, considering the fact that I’m 42 weeks now, it’s no surprise.

Once I’m up, I head to the bedroom and lay down on the bed slowly and opening my legs, rubbing my belly gently all over, I’ll miss this, though Charles plans on breeding me, so it probably won’t be for long. I feel myself throbbing and I awkwardly reach for my clit, slowly starting to rub circles on it, panting already. “B-babe” Charles gazes from the door, in awe of me. “Care if I join?” He giggles and comes over, instantly eating from me. My legs spread wide as I grip the bed sheets. “F-fuck, babe! Babe! Calm.. calmer” I whisper, he’s ravenous, so am I.

I feel him pull my legs so that I’m on the end of the bed, I watch him as he looks down and admires my bump. “I’ll miss this.. I can’t wait to put another baby in you.. maybe three this time” he grins and I feel him force his whole dick inside me, he’s huge and I scream in pain mixed with pleasure. “Holy-“ I scream and my eyes instantly water. “It hurts! Stop! Stop please!” I groan as he pulls out “I’m out, babe, I’m out” he assures me “I’m sorry, baby, let me rub it better” he whispers and I shake my head “help me” I demand as I get on my knees and motion for him to lay down.

He holds my hips as I straddle him “mm baby” I groan as I squat and lower myself onto him, feeling my maximum capacity hit. “Fuck..” I groan as I bounce with his support, bouncing faster and faster until he picks me up and fucks me against the wall, I can see he’s close by his eyes. “Harder” I demand, he obeys immediately, it hurts but I love the pain. I feel a shift inside me and I look into his eyes, feeling my bag tear open from inside me, my waters breaking all over him as I squeal, partly with excitement, the other with pain.

“Does Ms Lovell want to cum before pushing baby out?” He asks and I nod “please”. The pain is growing but I need to cum, I have to cum. “Baby, just.. rub my clit.. or even use the toy” I shrug as he picks up my vibrator and holds it on me. He loves the show. “Gimme” I whisper and take it, holding it on my clit, I have one leg on the floor and the other on the bed, lunging as I moan and watch myself drip onto the bed sheets. “I’m close” I whisper and fall into doggy style burying my face in the sheets as I squirt everywhere, feeling myself pour out, Charles just watches and shoots his load over my ass.

But with in seconds, the screams of pleasure turn into pain. “We need to get you downstairs” Charles demands and I shake my head “I can’t for a minute” I moan, spreading my legs whilst I stay on all fours. “It hurts, it.. my back! Baby my back!” I cry but he’s gone to fetch everyone. The second I realise I’m alone I panic. “Babe! Babe! Help!!” I cry, moving onto the bed on my back, spreading myself open and crying as I grip the sheets, I’m sweating pints and my legs are shaking like they’re on vibrate. With in seconds, he’s back, and the whole family come through. “Hey, okay, okay, sweetheart” Caroline calms me.

“It’s not okay, I can’t- I can’t-“ I cry as I throw my hand down protectively over myself. “Yes you can, of course you can” Caroline assures me. This is when things really intensify. “Please help me” I sob as my body really starts to hurt. “Okay, let’s work through this contraction and then get you downstairs, I think you’re close to pushing, are you feeling pressure?” She asks and I nod, holding my breath and letting a long shriek out which terrifies all of the kids.

The second it stops, everyone picks me up supporting me in different ways as they get me downstairs and into the water. The second I’m in, everyone starts to bring stuff over, towels, blankets, scissors, hot water, ice cubes. I just try to catch my breath and I look to Charles and reach my arms out for him to hold me. “Okay, you’re about a nine or ten, so whenever you feel that urge to start pushing, you can just go for it” Caroline smiles as Vanessa and Sharon share a moment and Keith watches Charles proudly.

I rest my arms on the back of the pool and grit my teeth as the contraction sets in, immediately taking advantage of finally being able to push, bearing down and gripping onto everything I can, it takes me by surprise how relieving and yet excruciatingly painful pushing is.

“Okay, why don’t you get in with her?” Vanessa suggests to Charles and he nods as he removes his shirt and steps in, sitting down behind me and spreading his legs either side of me, cupping my belly in his hands. “Fuck, Charlie!” I scream as I feel myself opening a little, grabbing his thighs and noticing part of him digging into my back. This.. this is a turn on for him.

“Mmm, babe, you’re doing so good” he whispers gruffly into my ear. “Is this.. hot to you?” I whisper as the contraction closes. He looks at me and blushes. “I’ll bear that in mind for next time.. maybe we can do it.. alone” I whisper and look around “can I get out..” I ask and everyone quickly rushes to help me “babe, sit on the chair” I grumble and he obeys. Once he’s on the chair I look to him “I want to spread my legs over your thighs and push on your lap” I say softly. “That way I can look at you..” I say quietly, realising that he can then see all of my pain.

“Can you help me?” I ask the ladies and they all get me on his lap comfortably “ouch, ouch ouch ouch” I whimper as I spread my legs and Sharon kneels to watch me open. I feel the next contraction and I wrap my arms around Charles’s neck, feeling the need get stronger and stronger before I let go and start to really push as hard as I can. “Nnghhhh” I groan, feeling my whole face go red “mmmphhhh” I whimper before pressing my forehead on his. “Nice job Momma you’re opening nicely” Sharon says softly and Caroline kneels with her holding some tissue over my ass, which settles my mind a lot.

“Baby’s head is looking a bit on the larger side okay sweetheart? So this is going to be a slow process” she tells me and I nod, tearing up some more and resting on Charles. My stomach presses into him and I feel how hard he is. Everyone is around us, just watching, but if they weren’t, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

“Okay, give me a big push” Caroline demands and I take a breath, grunting the push out in an earthy low tone. “I can’t” I shake my head and Charles whispers “yes you fucking can, push”. I shyly nod and push even harder. “Push harder” he demands and I shake my head “you don’t underst-“ I start and he tilts my head and kisses my lips softly “harder for me” he demands and I swallow thickly before gripping his thighs and pushing some more “it.. it’s tearing me!” I cry and Sharon laughs a little “sweetheart it’s not, I can see it, you’re stretching well” she assures me.

“Let’s get you on the bed, Charles you sit and Lena, in his lap, he can pull your legs open from behind” Vanessa says softly. I nod and look to Charles to help me up but he just stands, lifting me, my belly pressing into him and getting a little crushed. He stands and holds me there for a moment. “Get down, I need to push” I say weakly and he whispers “push here, as I hold you”. I look to Vanessa and motion for her to come and make sure it’s all okay. I grip around his neck and slowly start to push lightly, building it into more of a hard and steady push.

“Amazing, Lena, you’re doing it!” Vanessa squeals excitedly. “Please, put me down” I beg him and he shakes his head before I start to really push with all my might “nnnhaaaHHHH!” I cry out, seeing Juno cringe behind him “GAAAAAHHHH!!!” I scream and Vanessa looks at him “quick put her down” she demands and he does so, sitting behind me and pulling my legs back as Vanessa feels around. It burns so fucking bad. “Okay, okay, pant” Sharon says as Caroline comes and rubs my inner thighs to calm me.

“Get it out!” I cry “please! Please get it out!” I sob and Vanessa looks up “push! They’re ready and waiting to be delivered” she smiles and I bear down against the force that Charles is pulling my legs back with. The noises I make terrify the kids to the point where Keith has sent the littles out, but he stays to observe. “One big push” Sharon smiles and I do exactly that with a loud whale before feeling the gush of fluid burst around the head.

“Let baby’s head turn” she says strictly and I nod. Caroline finds a mirror and holds it where I can see the head turn, so can Charles, I feel him grow harder into me. “So fucking hot” he whispers to me and I look back. “I’m all yours next time” I assure him before seeing the head stop turning and stay in position. “It’s coming” I whisper and start to scream, like, scream scream. The shoulders are killing me, but I’m doing it. “Harder, push, push, push” Charles starts and everyone joins in, chanting to push, even the kids do.

“Hhhnngaaaaaaaa!” I cry and stop as I feel them slide out “oh my… baby, baby, oh my god” I sob and watch Sharon lift her up onto my chest “baby girl, you’re so beautiful” I whisper and rub her back gently as Charles starts to sob “she’s the spitting image of you” he cries.

(Let me know if you want the next birth..)

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Delicate (JJK x Reader) 🐾💜☁️🔞

🧶Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🧶Genre: hybrid!AU, Tsundere (slightly), Fluff, a bit of Angst, smut

🧶Warnings: Jungkook is a brat, Catboy!Jungkook, He basically hates everyone but his kitten, HUman! Reader, Wet dream, masturbation, big dick! Kook but whats new, Sweet reader, Spanking (and not on her butt if you know what I mean), Rough handjob (fem. Rec), doggy style, Desperate koo, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasm, slightly angsty moment, but nothing bad lol, confessions, basically owner/Hybrid to lovers lol

🧶Summary: Jungkook does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Changing for you might be harder than he initially thought- but maybe he doesn't even need to. Maybe you'll love him just for who he actually is.

Jungkook was a maine coon hybrid. He's been at the shelter for years now, adopted just to be returned a week later, every time. He's got serious additude problems, thinks way too highly of himself, is just overall too much to handle. He knows that. But that doesn't mean he wants to change.

No, he actually actively decides to be a dick. Simply irritating others is like some sort of game for him, feeding his ego to no ends whenever someone gives up on him. It's like he's winning.

Jungkook loves winning.

It all however, changes as soon as he spots you. You're small, and not in a sense of short- no, you actually look like a doll to him. So delicate, so adorable, Jungkook can't help but stare with wide, green cateyes. His pupils are contracted as if you're too bringt for them to handle, yet its only the amount of sudden emotions that's making them look like that. As soon as you turn around, spotting him, smiling at him, they widen like the moon itself; making the cat-hybrid next to him wave a hand in front of his face, since he completely blocked out the fact that the older hybrid was talking to him. He irritatedly swishes his hand away, ears now perked up as his fluffy tail twitches every second or so. He can hear your voice, soft and sweet, and he's whipped already.

Jungkook wants you.

He stands up suddenly, completely dismissing the hybrid that he'd conversed with earlier, as he walks over to you, who's standing in front of another area filled with dog hybrids. He scrunches his nose in disgust; you don't need one of those mutts, you need him. He stops a footstep away from you, and the worker sighes as you look up at the hybrid. "Oh, thats Jungkook-" he explains. "He's one of our problem cases, so I wouldn't really reccomend him for you." He explains, and Jungkooks brows furrow. Who the fuck does he think he is, calling him a problem case? He knows its true, but that doesn't mean he can just say that out loud to anyone, especially not you. How's he supposed to gain your trust now?

You smile, now visibly a little intimitated. Jungkook knows why, knows that his physique is pretty much yelling strength and confidence. He suddenly gets an idea, and decides to try it out. No hurt in playing around a little.

So he lets his ears droop, and slowly walks back towards the corner of the room, simply sitting down there before flopping to his side, huffing out a breath as if exhausted. He hoped it works, otherwise he's pulling this stunt without reason, making a fool of himself for nothing. But it seems as if it works, slowly, because he can spot your now slightly worried eyes watching him as the worker leads you along, to meet some other dog hybrids. He knows he's got you. He just has to wait.

Jungkook loves taking naps.

And this time, it helped time pass by easily, as he suddenly smells your fabric softener again, as he can hear the worker try and talk you out of it. He can feel you behind him as he'd rolled around on his spot to face the wall, and he visibly shudders as your hand touches his tail. He turns around slowly, tired eyes spotting you squatting down close to his back, as he sits up. He looks at you curiously, and you suddenly smile, leaning your head slightly to the side, your earrings dangling prettily from your ears as he can't look away. You're even prettier up close and personal like this. "So, you're Jungkook?" You ask, and he forgets to answer for a moment, nods after he notices the awkward silence, as he blushes. You giggle, and sit down properly, obviously intending to get to know him more.

Good.

He sits properly as well, not saying anything, as you ask away. "They said you're quite the troublemaker." You amusedly state, and Jungkook suddenly has the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn't however, knowing all his acting would've been for nothing if he slipped now. So he simply looks down, his ears slightly bend backwards as he scratches his neck. "But I think you're just a bit rough around the edges." You explain, and his eyes move, looking at you as you continue. "Like a diamond, you know? They need to be handled carefully, and then they turn into the prettiest things." You say, and he already decides he loves your voice. He carefully answers.

"You think so?"

He can see the surprise in your face, it's to be expected. His tone doesn't fit his current act at all, but he can't change that. But you smile, nodding, and he internally sighs at that, at the fact that you simply accepted that. "Look-" You suddenly say, pulling out your phone and showing him a balcony, with pretty flowers blooming. You swipe, and it shows what he assumes is your apartment. It's small, he notices, but for some reason it looks more inviting than any place he'd ever been to. It looks cozy, well taken care of, and a tad bit unruled; it looks like a home. His eyes sparkle with actual genuine interest. "We could put some blankets here, the sun shines there nicely throughout the day, so you could take some awesome naps there-" You explain, and his ears perk into your direction at that. "Oh, and during the summer you can always stay on the balcony- its really nice there when its hot you know? The cool breeze is nice." You say, and suddenly notice how he's looking at you, expecting something. "I mean-" You stutter suddenly, locking your phone and growing a bit shy at him being so close to you. You have to admit; he's really handsome. "Only if you want to come with me, that is." You ask, and he suddenly nods.

Jungkook would love to come home with you.

That was a year ago, and your home slowly became his own home as well, more perfect than those photos could ever convey.

As you walk around the apartment, he notices how you carry some of your own stuff into another room- smaller than the original bedroom. At his confused glance, you scratch the back of your neck, right where he knows your scent is strongest, and he gets the urge to bury his nose into the spot. "Oh! I just uhm.. last night you slept in front of my door, so I thought you may want to change rooms? You're bigger than me, so you need more space, i think?" You say, and he shakes his head with a soft smile, walking up to you and stopping you in your tracks.

"N-No.. Actually, I wanted to ask you something." He wonders, now not looking at you anymore, as you look up at his eyes. "I uhm.." He starts, swallowing some saliva to finally get the words out. "I was wondering if I could sleep in your room."

Its quiet for a moment, and he grows anxious at this, thinking that he had just overstepped some boundary he didn't know of yet. "Like- I mean, I get lonely during the night, and you said once that you need to hug something to sleep well and maybe you could hug me and we would safe costs for heating because two people are warmer than just one and-" He rambles on, and you put your hands on his shoulders, making him shut up in the midst of talking. Your touch does that to him, most of the time. It's like magic, addicting, and he can't help but swallow again, now however not because of fear.

"You should've said something sooner, silly!" You say, reaching up to scratch his ear, which involuntarily makes him purr as he presses against your hand. "Of course you can. Don't worry so much, kookie." You say, and he smiles at this, happy that he was finally closer to you.

Jungkook is such a sweet cat, in your eyes. He's gentle, always so ready to help you with whatever problem you have, lending you a hand with household chores; he's truly the perfect hybrid at your side.

So, so sweet.

Scratch that.

Jungkook was currently eyeing your best friend down, ears pinned back while his fluffy tail was standing tall, agression clear in his entire posture. "Wow, ok. What's with him?" Yoongi asks, unsure on what exactly was going on. Maybe it was Hoesok's scent on him that agitated him? But he couldn't know for sure. Instead of you however, Jungkook answered in his low voice, clearly offended by something. He doesn't klnow why this always happens.

"Don't talk like I'm not here, asshole." He spits out, and your eyes widen. Jungkook was such a sweet guy around you, it was hard to imagine this was actually happening time and time again. He was watching Yoongi with careful eyes, pupils contracted to slits as his greenish eyes pin the older man down with their stare. He's cautious, and you don't quite know about what, until Yoongi makes the mistake of reaching out for you.

Before so much as his fingertips can reach you, Jungkook has already jumped from his spot, shoving the shorter man back with so much force he almost falls into the small coffee table behind him. "Jungkook!" You exclaim scandalized, as he turns around at your tone of voice. Looking at your posture, taking in your scent, he can sense immediately that you're scared, confused, and he hates it. "Apologize." You demand, and Jungkook shakes his head, unwavering, before you sigh out, pointing towards the bedroom door. "Then get inside. And don't come out until I say so." You say, and his ears pin themselves back again, however his shoulders slump down as well, visibly deflating. He's actually sorry now- but it's too late to force himself to apologize to Yoongi; that intruder who's clearly here to claim territory. "Now." You say, and Jungkook suddenly breaks eye contact with you, letting himself be defeated for the first time since he was adopted.

For some reason, your voice hangs heavy on his muscles, heavier than any collar ever hung around his neck.

He hates this. He hates that he has to give up the fight to this complete stranger just because you said so; yet he can't will himself to go against your will. He wants to stay, he wants to be good, but he cant help but grow hostile with another guy in the same apartment as you. It's as if he's giving you up, and that's definitely not what he wants to do. But its ultimately whats happening.

And he hates it.

Jungkook isn't a sweet kitty. He's an untamed tiger, just simply agreeing on living with you, and that has become very apparent these months. He likes to pick on you, and loves to make a mess. There's nothing left of the oh so sweet and caring catboy you adopted a year ago, but it somehow doesn't bother you. You know that he was eager to get out of the shelter, and that he had been pretending for long enough.

This was Jungkooks true nature, and you were okay with that.

He was a bit of a brat, throwing down objects placed by you whenever you weren't home, simply to show you his unhappiness about that fact. He knew that you had to work, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

He also had a major enemy now.

Seokjin across the street, Namjoons prized silver labrador hybrid, or so he calls him. He's handsome, you have to admit, but Jungkook can't see anything visually appealing about the mutt. He hates him with a passion, and its quite possibly because of his very flirty nature, especially towards you. Jungkook wasn't talented in that department, he rather enjoyed picking on you than complimenting you. Compliments got boring after a while. Calling you shorty and watching you struggle to reach the highest shelf would never get old to him, however.

He likes to call Seokjin a rat for his grey features, just to see him get all offended, and he doesn't care much that you always scold him for it. He likes to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's been testing you long enough to somehow know when the fun is over. He'd never intentionally hurt you, emotionally nor physically, but that doesn't mean he can't pick on you now and then.

Its his own way of showing affection. You just don't quite get it, it seems.

Its when you leave for a late night business gathering to celebrate the company's anniversary that he breaks. He simply pretends to be asleep as he waits for you to leave, simply peeking at your dress though almost closed eyes, and he wishes he didn't do it. Your scent is driving him crazy already, yet you were always careful to cover up around him, seemingly conscious about him and the fact that he is, apart from his cat side, still a young man. He wont ever be able to burn that image of your perfect legs in that perfect little dress out of his mind now that he's seen it. And its the kiss you place on his cheek that pushes him over the edge, makes him struggle to stay composed until he can hear the front door close shut.

He whines out, turning around on the bed as he buries his face into the sheets, into the spot that's usually occupied by your form. It still smells like you; not like you when you try to use perfume, which he hates, but your unmasked smell he absolutely loves. It fills his senses, makes him squirm on the mattress as he turns, bunching the sheets between his legs as he begins to hump into nothing, the friction of the bed sheets enough to rile him up as he bites the pillow your head usually rests on. He can see it in front of him vividly like a dream he's experiencing right in that moment. You, laid out underneath him, his teeth not clamping down on fabric but your delicate skin, making such wonderful noises as he takes you like the good and sweet girl you are for him. How enticingly you would mewl, arching your back as he guides his leaking cock inside you, stretching you out as his hands would hold you close, keep you upright so you wont just smash onto the mattress onto your face. He curses as he picks up his pace, simple movement not enough anymore as his hand reaches down, frustratingly palming his impatient erection hidden underneath his sweatpants as his dream continues, showing him how you would say his name, breathlessly, as you would look over your shoulder.

Then it shifts, as his mind is suddenly focusing on your face. Would you be into giving him head? Oh god, if you would, he knows he wouldn't be able to last; with your innocent eyes, kneeled in front of him, so eagerly taking his cock he couldn't help but cum inside your throat. And he knows you would be such a good kitten, you would swallow him down prettily, and he would praise you so good. "Hnng, fuck..!" He exclaims, as he writhes on top of the sheets, messing everything up, but he doesn't care.

He never really thought about that weird missionary position humans liked, but he could actually see the appeal of it, if he was doing it with you. To be able to see every change of your features, how your soft lips would part in pleasure as he fills you up like you should be, oh it would be a sight for him to see. His eyes squeeze shut as he turns his head, groaning loudly as he almost sobs brokenly into the pillow, feeling his release stain the fabric of his sweats uncomfortably. But he doesn't care, as he sniffles, breathing heavily before he chuckles.

"Fuck, I'm pathetic."

Can hybrids outgrow their owners?

It certainly feels like it. Jungkook has been growing more and more distant to you, and you feel as if its your own fault. You must've done something wrong, you assume, as he distances himself more and more not only from you, but everyone else as well. He doesn't pick up a fight with Seokjin anymore, hell, he even let Yoongi inside yesterday. And you try to push back your tears as you walk inside the living room, where he's currently sitting, watching the window, tail lazily swaying softly. Maybe the apartment really was too small for him- you've head your neighborly lady complain recently about that when she saw him through the window. Maybe you weren't the right person for him.

"Jungkookie?" You carefully ask, as you see his tail twitch, a sign that he noticed you. "We need to talk." You start, and he gets up, ready to leave the room.

"Well I don't want to though, your bad." He responds, and you reach for his hand, as he whips his head around, ready to bite an answer out, but he spots something in your gaze that makes him stop in his tracks.

"We need to.. I can't- I can't make that decision for you, we need to talk about where you wanna go." His brows furrow as he tries to figure out what you're implying, a weird feeling in his gut telling him that it's something he wont like at all. "I want you to be happy, even if its not with me kookie." You sigh out, and he connects the dots, suddenly realizing what you're saying.

"Ho- wait no no-" His eyes widen, and you look at him as he shakes his head at you, suddenly defensive. "You want to give me away?!" He barks out, bushy tail behind him angrily whipping from one side to the other. "I don't want to! You said this is my home, you can't make me leave!" He spits at you, and you grow confused.

"But-" You start. "You've been so uncomfortable around me Kook, it's okay if you don't want to live with me anymore, really. Namjoon said that sometimes Hybrids outgrow their owners-" You say, but Jungkooks eyes glint angrily.

"Namjoon doesn't know shit!" He yells, and you shut up at that. "I don't want to go, I won't ever go!" He finalizes, and you are on your last leg. He's completely confusing you at this point.

"Then tell me what I'm supposed to do! You're clearly not comfortable around me anymore, what am I supposed to do?!" You yell back, voice by far not as strong as his, but it riles him up enough that he snaps.

"There's nothing you can do about my fucking hormones giving me wet dreams about you like a teenager!" He says, and your eyes widen, making his ears grow red in shame. "There, I said it. Want me to spell it out? I want to fuck you, there you go!" He says, throwing his hands in the air for good measure as he breathes heavily, giving both of you a moment to process his confession. He suddenly grows more quiet, more calm, his voice in no way as harsh and loud as before. "No.. no that's not right." He admits, and comes to conclusion that its now or never. "I want to hold you at night like a lover does, not just a hybrid and his owner. I want you to see me as a partner, not just as a pet." he states, gaze falling downwards as his ears flop to the sides, tail unmoving behind him.

"I never saw you as just a pet, Koo." You say, and he perks up at that, as you walk closer to him, hugging him closely, as he stands a bit awkwardly, before deciding to hug you back. "I didn't want to take advantage of you." You say, and he grows hopeful.

"Does that mean you.. like me like that?" He asks, and you nod into his chest.

Making him grin like an idiot.

Its after this moment that things slowly change a bit. He's still picking on you whenever he can, but he's also being awfully suggestive ever since your talk. Its like he wants to know what runs your gears more clearly these days, as he's making sure to flaunt his post workout body every now and then just to see you turn red at the sight.

He loves how he makes you shy.

Its you however, who breaks him first.

The day he can't keep his hands off of you is the day the spider in your shower decided to jump down on you, scaring the life out of your body as you screach in horror, fleeing the scene in nothing but a towel as you safe yourself into the bedroom, where Jungkook had been taking a nap before hearing your scream. He's ready to laugh at you, until he notices the towel barely hanging onto what you hold against your chest, skin still slightly damp as only your hair is still dry. He can't help himself anymore. "Hm.. how about I get your mind off of that scary little insect?" He humms from behind you, and you open your mouth to retort a snappy remark, but you don't get that far.

He's already behind you, his legs placing themselves next to yours on the bed as he hooks his own over yours, spreading your legs for him as he takes the bits of towel out of your hands, making it fall to the sides, revealing your body to him, at last. He can't help but lick his lips at the sight he gets from over your shoulder, purring loudly as he licks at your neck, finally getting a taste of you; and it's energizing, like a drug, making a shiver run through his spine as his tail twitches behind him in pleasure. You gasp out loud as he bites down, hand reaching between your legs to move his middle and ring finger inside your already wettening center, making him groan. "So ready.." He muses, loving the sounds you make, as he obnoxious noise of squelching from the wettness between your legs with every movement of his fingers fills the room. You struggle to close your legs at the sensation, but he doesn't let you; instead gently hitting your cunt as if to put you back into place, while he groans. "Bad girl. This is mine, isn't it?" He asks, and you can't answer for a moment. "This-" He says, his hand forcefully coming down onto your pussy again, as you squeal from it. "Is mine, isn't it?" He asks again, and you nod over and over again, making him smile. "That's right. And I do what I want with it." He says, before he pumps his fingers in and out at a relentless pace, uncaring of the mess he's making as you squirm and mewl in his lap. He loves this, loves how the sounds he imagined you making can't ever compare to what he's currently hearing. He has to take you.

He removes his hand, undressing himself impatiently as he turns you over for him, behind presented to him as he licks his lips again. "So pretty." He praises, and pumps his length once, twice, before he enters your smooth center, already feeling as if he's in heaven. "I promise I-" He starts, but has to moan out as you clench around him particularly hard. "I promise I'll be gentle next time-" He says, before his palms find your breasts, kneading them in his palms as he kisses along your spine. "But I need you." He whines out, making you huff out a breath as you look over your shoulder, just like he imagined. "Fuck!" He presses out, skin against skin one of the many sounds apart from your heavy breathing and shared sounds of pleasure inside the room, spider long forgotten as you suddenly arch your back into him. "My kitten's gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and a cute moan is all he gets- all he needs, as you try to get up a bit more, making him push your neck into the pillows below, careful to let you breath as your cheek is what meets the fabric below, his other hand brushing away your hair lovingly, so that he can watch you come undone. "So sweet, so submissive.." He humms out, as he dips down, your back against his chest as he kisses underneath your earlobe, amusement clear in his voice. "Such a cute little whore for me, my sweetest princess, so beautiful.." He praises, and you moan out obscenely as you come, his pace never stopping once. "You're gonna have to-" He says, moving more desperately now to reach his own peak. "You're gonna have to take it baby." He presses out, holding your hips as he forces them onto him with more strength, making you whine in overstimulation. "Almost there- there we go-" He exclaims, uncaringly rubbing your clit between your legs as you shiver violently underneath him, second orgasm hitting you so quickly that your body can't seem to prepare itself as you feel wetness escape you, making him groan loudly. "What a good girl, look at that- ah!" He exclaims, pushing himself as deep as he can as you feel him spurt his load inside you, finally stopping, finally calming down.

"Jungkook?" You ask out of breath, as he simply holds you close, still buried inside of you, falling to the side as he buries his nose in between the crook of your neck.

"Hmm.. no, lets stay like that.." He humms sleepily, and you simply close your eyes, agreeing to his statement.

Jungkook is not a sweet cat- but he certainly has his moments.

"Kitten?" He asks, as he notices you being weirdly quiet next to him on the couch, now noticing the tears on your cheeks. "You're such a crybaby!" He laughs, as he wipes away your tears with his sweater sleeve, making you pout.

"Not fair." You mumble out, and he simply chuckles, placing a kiss ontop of your nose.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #hybrid imagine #hybrid jungkook #hybrid jungkook imagine #hybrid smut #hybrid jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut

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en-hale-archives · 3 years

Text

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

He’s Lost - Bakugou Katsuki - Part 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings - Angst, Physical Harm, Cursing, accused Cheating, Katsuki’s insecurities

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This is my first writing piece but this has been stuck in my mind since v-day is coming up so I had to get it out. Plz enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Y/N is so busy around Valentine’s, her lack of attention towards her Pomeranian is causing him to freak out and do the worst of the worst

Love is in the air! The birds are singing, The breeze is blowing, the setting sun is shining, and the explosive teen is.....well, bruting.

Can you blame him though? Y/N’s been a little distant ever since February started. Even right now, instead of enjoying their time together in a quiet park, she’s staring down at her phone doing who knows what.

Why? Was he not good enough? Has she gotten tired of him? They’ve only been together for a little over a year. Is she talking to someon- no. Katsuki stopped himself from thinking like that. There’s no way his precious teddy bear would ever do that. Not only that, he was the best there is. Why would she even try to go?

“You dumbass. You’re missing this.” Bakugou sighed. “Huh? What? Missing what?” Y/N looked around looking for whatever “this” was until Bakugou grabbed her chin to force her to look him in the eyes. “THIS DUMBASS! US! You’re so focused on that dumb phone. Jeez, can’t a guy just get his girl’s attention.” Bakugou said dramatically.

It wasn’t that Y/N wasn’t giving him attention, it’s that it wasn’t the same. Yea she right there snuggled into his arm. And yea she was petting his hair just the way he liked. And YES, she was peppering his face with kisses from time to time. But it all felt off? Like only half her energy was put into the love and affection.

“Suki, aren’t u being a little dramatic. I’m right here with you baby. I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distracted. Come here dummy.” And as Y/N pulls Bakugou in for a tighter hug all he can do is release a “hmph” while falling into it...until her phone went (ding!) once again. And she went to check it. Once again.

Bakugou was getting tired so he got up and suggested they’d head back to UA. Y/N only got up and began to walk beside him, hand in hand, while still checking her phone time to time. And Bakugou was getting sick of it

*Wtf is she doing on that piece of junk? What could be so important she would half ass our entire evening together? .....Could she possibly be talking to someone else?............no.* Bakugou let those negative thoughts die down as they continued their journey back.

——————————————————————————

A few days later

“COME ON!!” Bakugou screamed as he realeased a blast towards Kirishima. When Bakugou invited him to train, The red head initially thought it was to ...you know..TRAIN. But after some time, the blonde’s best friend began to see the bigger picture.

“Dude. What’s up with you man? We always go full on during training, but it’s not even like you’re trying to hit me. It feels like you’re just taking your anger out on me.” Kirishima said.

“Congrats on noticing shitty hair, I’m glad somebody’s noticing my damn mood.” Weirded out by his friend’s unusual openness, the red head continued to ask.

“So what’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“But you just-“

“NOPE!”

Bakugou exclaimed as he began to gather his stuff to leave the training area. “BAKUGOU!” Kiri shouted. “WHAT!” “.......it’s Y/N isn’t it?”

Upon hearing that, the blonde turned to look at his best friend with this sad puppy dog look. And man, if Katsuki had doggy ears, everyone would see how low they’d go. His best friend didn’t need to see it though, he could tell those ears would be 6 ft under if they were actually there bc there’s nothing hiding Katsuki’s vulnerability when it comes to Y/N. As the two best friends go to sit on the bleachers, Bakugou takes a deep breath before saying his thoughts.

“I think Y/N is cheating on me.”

“................HUH???!!!!”

Kirishima went from “caring and considerate” to “WHATDIDHESAYYY” in seconds. Y/N L/N?? Cheating?? Ok. Y/N was one fiesty girl, and she definitely had sass, power, attitude, and a little mischief, but she also had kindness, compassion, consideration, and honesty flowing though her. Not to mention extreme loyalty. There’s no way.

“Look man, with all due respect, I think you’ve finally lost it.” The red head laughed. “I’m being serious shitty hair.” The blonde stated. “She’s been so distracted lately. She’s always with me but it’s like her mind is also somewhere else. And not to mention that damn phone she’s always on now. She can’t go 30 minutes without checking it at least twice. And not only that, when she does leave to do whatever, she’s gone for hours at a time! What’s a guy supposed to think with all of that?! I mean it’d make sense if she wanted to leave. I get it, I can get loud, and yell, and I get angry a lot but.. she knows I never mean it, right? I call her a dumbass like i do everyone else...ugh but she isn’t just everyone else, she’s my girlfriend and she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.....SO WHY TF IS SHE CHEATIN-“ before the blonde could continue, his best friend cut him off.

“BAKUGOU” “WHAT??!!” “....talk to her.” Kirishima said. “What?” Bakugou asked. Kirishima continued. “Cheating is a real sensitive topic in a relationship. I don’t wanna give my opinion on something that could ruin something amazing. C’mon man, we both know Y/N isn’t like that but who am I to tell you what to do. I wanna help, I do, but I think it’s best if you go to her with all this. Honestly though, if you asked me, Y/N would be the last person I’d ever think of when it came to cheating on ANYTHING. Especially the guy she cares so much about.” And with that last sentence, Kirishima stood up from his spot and pat Bakugou on his shoulder before exiting.

With Bakugou left with nothing but his thoughts and Kirishima’s advice, he left and headed straight towards your room.

——————————————————————————

“Shut up!” You excitingly screamed though the phone. “You really found the last part?”

“Yup, it only took about 6 different stores across the entire city.” Shinsou sarcastically replied. “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know and I appreciate it. Katsuki’s gonna love his gift!” You said.

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, you’ve been preparing only the best Valentine’s Day surprise for the best boyfriend in the world. You’ve been so busy planning your surprise that I guess you could say you haven’t been giving Katsuki the massive amount of attention he’s used to from you, but you can definitely say it’ll all be worth it when he sees one of his presents that you’ve been working on. A silencer for his gauntlet blasts that not only decreases the volume of his attacks, but also increases his attack power. You remember how Bakugou had vented about his attacks being too loud that they scare people, but when he tried to keep them quiet, the attack isn’t as powerful so saving can be quite difficult. He only spoke about it once, but you could see the look on his face whenever he was out using his quirk around civilians. So why not give him a device that’ll help with his loud little problem. Now were you a support class student who knew how to make support items? Hell no. But were you a loving girlfriend willing to give her man the best Valentine’s Day ever? Hell yeah.

The piece of gear would’ve been easier to make IF it weren’t for a pesky piece of the project getting destroyed by Shinsou after he made Denki electrocute himself while he was right next to your prototype on the table. So to make it up to you, Shinsou went all around town looking for the piece you needed to complete your support item for Katsuki. Finally, all pieces had come together.

“He better. That damn bastard doesn’t know how amazing his girlfriend is. Instead of ignoring his ass these past few weeks, you sent ME to get all this shit for you so you could keep your precious Pomeranian happy.” Shinsou said while rolling his baggy eyes.

As Bakugou approached the outside of your dorm room’s door, he heard your voice.

“You know, you’re so right. That Pomeranian is unaware of just exactly how amazing I am. I really could’ve left whenever but I stuck around.” You snorted. “Well I’m glad I had you with me through it all Shinsou.”

*Pomeranian? SHINSOU?!? Through IT ALL?!?!? YOU WERE WITH THAT PURPLE HAIRED, SLEEP DEPRIVED ASS MIND CONTROLLING FREAK?!?? AND YOU WERE WITH HIM THE ENTIRE TIME YOU’VE BEEN DATING BAKUGOU?!?*

Oh to say Katsuki was pissed was an understatement. He felt all these emotions hitting him all at once. Anger, Disgust, Pain, Betrayal. It all became too much for him before Katsuki ran away from your down with his bed down and silent tears hitting the floor. When he let himself fall to the floor in the privacy of his room he screamed into his hands. His first love, his first real relationship, his teddy bear betraying his love, loyalty, and trust for over an entire year. After hours of crying, Katsuki was able to pull himself into bed. He couldn’t even bring himself to shower even though he spent all that time in the gym with Kirishima. He just wanted to sleep to escape reality. As he looked at his phone, he saw 1 missed call from Y/N, and 1 text saying “Goodnight love💗💥!” Bakugou scoffed at the text. Figuring u must be texting Shinsou the same thing. As Bakugou placed his phone down, an evil thought came to mind. Ruin her.

Bakugou smirked to himself as he had this pyscho and sinister look on his face. He would ruin Y/N. They haven’t officially broken up yet, so he could hurt her just as she hurt him. And Bakugou wasn’t stupid or so he thought he’s aware Valentine’s is coming up, so why not break little Y/N L/N’s heart on a day dedicated to nothing but love and happiness. It’ll be the perfect revenge on a little satin like her. Bakugou finally turned on his side with an evil, satisfied smile, and fat tears in his eyes once more.

——————————————————————————

The next morning, Katsuki got up with a broken heart, but he figured if he wanted his plan to work, he had to fake this smile. Getting up, getting ready, and getting dressed was business as usual, but meeting up with Y/N in the morning was now off the schedule. Instead of going into her room to check on her like he usually does, he just went straight to breakfast and straight to class without speaking to anyone.

With Class 1-A seated and Mr.Aizawa at the head of the classroom, the students can finally start their first lesson of the day. Until, the door slid wide open. There stood an exhausted and quite frankly dishelved Y/N. “My apologies sensei. I was up late last night and overslept. Please forgive me.” Y/N said as she bowed her head in sorry. “Just take your seat L/N.” The tired eye teacher said.

As Y/N walked to her desk, she noticed Bakugou wouldn’t even glance her way. She was a little thrown off since it would be normal for him to at least give her a judgemental look for sleeping in, but no. Nothing.

Bakugou on the other hand was writhing in agony. Oh how he wanted to check on Y/N and make sure everything was fine, but that voice in the back of his head couldn’t help but tell him to ignore her since she’s a cheater. She may have been the girl he’s loved dearest, but she was also the one causing his heart to shatter.

After a few classes, Y/N tried to approach Bakugou several times, but each time he brushed her off. And when the bell finally rang for lunch, you can bet Katsuki was the first one out the door. Y/N followed him of course, in worry and concern.

“Babe! Baby! Katsuuu!!! KATSUKII!” Y/N whined for her boyfriend to at least look at her but once again. Nothing. Bakugou wanted to hug her and hold her tight but he couldn’t. Not after what she’s done. Right before Bakugou entered the cafeteria, Y/N pulled him aside and held onto his wrists.

“Baby? Hey, what’s up with you? I’ve been calling your name and trying to talk to you but you keep brushing me off. You also didn’t stop by this morning. Is something wrong, love?” Y/N was hoping for something. ANYTHING at this point. And it was like the gods heard her prayer because she definitely got....something. “My bad.” The blonde haired boy dryly replied. “....Oh, um, ok suki.” The poor girl just thought her dear boyfriend was having a bad day, so she just left it alone and let him go. But still, even on his worse days he would at least visit her in the mornings. As they sat down with the bakusquad, the entire table noticed how Bakugou sat up and moved across from Y/N after she chose to sit next to him like usual. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Kirishima could already feel what had gone down. He at least knew his bro didn’t talk to his girl. Not manly at all.

——————————————————————————

Valentine’s Day

During lunch, Kirishima has finally decided to speak to Bakugou about this whole thing. He hasn’t been getting any updates since their time in the gym, so when it was just him and his best friend having lunch together, he went for it.

“Man what the hell is going on with you and Y/N? I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding her like crazy,” Kirishima said while stuffing his face, nervous about the answer. “I was right all along.” The blonde sadly spoke. “She’s been cheating on me since the start of our entire relationship. And with that baggy eyed freak from 1-B.”

Kirishima couldnt believe what he was hearing. He almost choked on his food. Y/N was actually cheating. I guess people don’t know people as well as he thought. “.....wow...I’m sorry man.” The red haired friend said. He was at a lost for words and didn’t know what else to say. *sigh* “don’t be. It all goes down tonight.” Bakugou said with a sad smile. “What do you mean?” His friend asked. The blonde looked at him right in his red eyes. “I’m breaking her heart tonight, on the one day of the year dedicated to love.”

Meanwhile

Instead of going to lunch, Y/N spent her time finishing up Katsuki’s surprise in his room. Yeah, he’s been having a bad past few days so why not bring him a smile with these amazing gifts on the day of love. Although Y/N didn’t really feel the love today (due to Katsuki again being so distant and ignoring her “good morning blasty💥💗!” And “Happy Valentine’s Day my love♥️!” Texts) she was determined to make sure Katsuki knew just exactly how much she loved him. She was almost done setting up in his room. Rose petals on the bed, Candles everywhere, 4 different gifts including his new support item made by you, his favorite meal is going to be set here on his table, and you and him together spending every loving second with each other. Y/N didn’t realize that because of her setup, she missed the entire rest of the day. “Meh, so worth it when I see the look on Suki’s face.” Tonight is going to be perfect.....or so you thought.

You didn’t expect to find Katsuki in your room, sitting on the edge of you bed waiting for you with his head hanging low and his shoulders slumped.

*maybe he has a surprise for me....? Yea that has to be it!* Y/N happily thought as she closed the door.

“Suki!! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Y/N said with all the love in her heart as she ran and jumped on the boy for a hug. But Bakugou didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He just glanced back up at her, giving her this cold stare. Y/N was too busy professing her undying love for her boyfriend to even notice his scary silence. “Suki I’m really glad it’s you who I have in my life,” the love sicken girl bashfully spoke while looking at the ground. “You make me so happy and I feel so blessed being able to spend my life with you in it. I really hope you know just how much I care and lov-“ Bakugou couldn’t listen to this bullshit anymore. He pushed Y/N off of him just before she could say those 3 words that would get him to break.

“Hey! Suki? Why would you do that?!” Y/N exclaimed while standing back up. “I hate you.” The blonde spoke coldly. As those words left his mouth, Y/N heart and world were falling apart. Her eyes went wide open and her jaw slightly dropped. As she was about to say something else, Katsuki cut her off with “I’m breaking up with your dumbass. Right here. Right now!” Bakugou yelled. Y/N was in shock. She felt hurt, pain, she was just feeling so broken.

As tears filled her eyes, she asked “w-why?” as she tried to reach out to him. “Why? WHY?!” Bakugou screamed as he stood up above her slapping her hand away. “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WHY, Y/N. YOU’RE A FUCKING CHEATER, THATS WHY!” The blonde yelled in her face. Y/N couldn’t believe it. He thought she was cheating? Why would she even do that? She already has the best person in the world for her so why? “DONT EVEN GIVE ME THAT “it didn’t mean anything, Suki!” BULLSHIT. I DONT GIVE A FUCK, CUZ YOU’VE BEEN CHEATING ON ME AND PLAYING ME FOR A DAMN FOOL THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME!” Bakugou went on as his voice began to crack while tears flowed down his porcelain face. “YOU LIED TO ME. I GAVE YOU MY ENTIRE BEING AND YOU FUCKING LIED. YOU DUMB FUCKING BITCH, I CANT BELIEVE I EVER LOVED A SORRY EXCUSE OF A PERSON LIKE YOU. I HATE YOU SO DAMN MUCH, I DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK I SAW IN YOU!” Y/N’s heart hit the ground. No actually, it went 6 ft under because after all that he’s said, her heart is dead. Broken. In agony. “Suki I-“ “DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT L/N.” Hearing him refer to her with her family name hit so hard. “KATSUKI PLEASE! I DIDNT DO ANYTHING I SWEA-“ as Y/N tried to reach out to him, he interrupted her again and pushed her hand away. “I SAID DONT CALL ME THAT!”

The blonde yelled, except this time....he didn’t only yell. The burning scent of smoke came into his nose and the loud explosion could be heard throughout the building. The product of what he just did came to him. He just attacked the love of his life. As much as Y/N hurt him, Katsuki still loved her with his everything. And the fact that he subconsciously attacked her broke him even more. Y/N’s screams of pain reached his ears, as he looked down and saw his precious teddy bear with a burned arm and fat tears on her face, crying in pain.

Bakugou ran down to her level to try and help her. “Y/N! Hey, hey teddy bear look I’m so-“ Y/N pushed him away before he could continue. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU BAKUGOU?!” Ouch. His family name felt like poison coming from your tongue. “Princess, I’m sorry I didn’t-“ “SHUT UP AND LET ME SPEAK FOR ONCE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Y/N screamed as she stood up to face him. “I DIDNT FUCKING CHEAT ON YOU. WHY THE HELL WOULD I DO THAT WHEN YOU’RE THE BEST DAMN THING THATS EVER HAPPENED TO ME?!..ah!” Y/N was cut off by the stinging of her wound, and Bakugou couldn’t do anything but stare. Y/N grabbed onto her wound before continuing. “I love you Bakugou. I wouldn’t even dream about doing wrong by you. I thought I was a good girlfriend or at least a good person-“ Bakugou quickly interrupted “No! Y/N you are, I just-“ “If I am then what the hell made you even think of me so lowly? What the hell did I do to make you question my loyalty? What the hell did I do that was worthy of you burning my fucking arm?!” Y/N cried out.

Silence fell upon the room. It felt like hours before anybody said anything. Both people had heavy tears in their face now. One crying because he realized he was an idiot and harmed the girl who did nothing wrong, and One crying because she did nothing wrong but ended up being a villain in her loved one’s life. Y/N broke the silence with a scoff.

“You know what Suki?” Y/N said looking him in the eyes. “Yes teddy bear?” Bakugou quickly replied with wide, desperate eyes upon hearing the loving nickname, thinking they would move on from this horrible incident. “Get the fuck out.” Y/N said in a low voice. Bakugou was shocked. He knew he fucked up horribly but after realizing the truth, he can’t leave you! He loves you too damn much for that! “What? Y/N please listen to me, I’m sor-“ “I DONT GIVE A FUCK! Leave..please.” The sad girl cried. Bakugou grabbed onto her shoulders begging her to not end this. “Y/N please! Please princess! I’m so fucking sorry! I’m an idiot, I know, and I definitely don’t deserve you but please I can’t lose you.” Bakugou said with tears falling down his face. “Please don’t do this to us. Please don’t do this to me, I’m BEGGING YOU.” “Bakugou-“ The sad boy cut you off, shaking his head, “ NO ITS SUKI. YOUR SUKI. YOUR KATSUKI.......please teddy bear I need you.......h-here let me help yo-”

You harshly pushed the boy off of you and as he tried to desperately go back to you, you used your quirk to keep him at bay. “Bakugou Katsuki. I’m leaving this room since you won’t, and I won’t come back until I know you’re out of my room.” Y/N began as she looked at him with cold, sad eyes. “From now on, you won’t have to worry about this bitch because I’ll stay out of your life, I swear. Don’t look at me, don’t touch me, DONT EVEN TALK TO ME. Just leave me alone....we’re done.” And with that Y/N ran out of her room, and out of the building, needing to get away from the place for a little bit. She could deal with her wound later. She just needed to get away. Bakugou just stood there in sadness and shock. As much as he wanted to run after you, he figured he’d give you a little breather. You guys could fix things in the morning...right?

Bakugou waited an hour in your room waiting for you, but you were right. You really weren’t coming back until he left your private area. So that’s what he did. With a heavy heart, he picked himself up and dragged his feet back to his dorm. He looked like a mess. He knew he did. Messy hair, red swollen eyes, dry lips. His entire body screamed heartbroken. When he open the door, instant regret and love hit him at once. His room was covered with rose petals and flowers, there were candles everywhere, heart shaped balloons all around, he had 4 different boxes of gifts, and two plates of extra spicy curry was set on his table, obviously cold now. What caught his eye was that one of the gift boxes had a note attached to it. With tears in his eyes, he read it.

Hey Suki! It’s Valentine’s Day! I love you to the moon and back and so much more. There’s no words that are able to describe the way I feel about you. You drive me insane in all the right ways and I love it! Lol. I hope you like your Valentine’s Day surprise. I’ve been working for weeks on it, so I’m sorry if I’ve been a little distracted. I know I’ve been kinda absent these past few days but I promise I’ll make it up to you love! Hopefully I can start with this gift that I’ve been working on. Enjoy your brand new grenade silencer! Made it myself just for you. There’s nothing else in the world like this. I love you Bakugou Katsuki!

(P.S. If Shinsou from 1-B gives you shit about it, it’s because I made him drag his ass everywhere to look for a missing part so I wouldn’t have to leave you so much)

XOXO, Your forever teddy bear <3

As he quickly opened the gift, he saw it. A silencer that would attach to his gauntlets to make the sound quieter and the blast even more powerful. It was incredible. You are incredible. He only ever mentioned the sound of his blasts once, and you listened and you fixed it.

Bakugou shook as tears began to fall onto the paper. He couldn’t believe it. Everything started coming together now. The reason you were so distracted was because you were setting this up for him. You were always on the phone because you were assembling pieces and ordering gifts for him. You weren’t cheating on him with Shinsou. You were making sure he could find something that you needed for him. Y/N L/N was truly the best girlfriend in the world. Scratch that, she is the best girlfriend in the world. No scratch that too, she’s just the best, period. And Bakugou’s idiotic self ruined everything for him. All because he couldn’t have a little faith in his teddy bear. As Katsuki cried and cried, he set everything aside.

He took the petals off his bed. He didn’t deserve it. He blew out the candles around his room. He didn’t deserve it. He popped the balloons, and ignored the food. He laid in bed with more tears than ever, and looked at the ceiling. He finally turned to his side to fall asleep, but not before grabbing the picture on his bedside nightstand. A picture of you and him. He remembers that picture oh so clearly. It was his birthday, and while he didn’t want to celebrate, you did everything in your power to make it the best one yet. And you did just that. Bakugou hugged that picture so tight, because he didn’t have you in his arms tonight. He didn’t think he would ever have you in his arms again. So Bakugou Katsuki continued to cry until he was asleep, escaping from the reality of him losing his love, his teddy bear, his princess, and his Y/N.

Bakugou Katsuki never lost, no. He’s always been ahead, always number one, always the best. He always won and achieved and nothing ever stopped him. Except this time, the only thing that stopped him and caused him to lose, was himself. He lost. He lost his everything. His world, his rock, his heart, his Y/N. He’s lost without her in his life, and at this point he thinks he’s lost at life. There was nothing that could fix him unless it was you coming back to him.

Bakugou Katsuki? He’s lost.

A/N: HOLY SHIT! That was my very first writing piece and it was just a Drabble of a thought I’ve been having. Sorry if it’s a little off and weird, I’m still new to writing but hopefully I’ll get better. This was NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed reading this! Thx for the love!

#bakugou angst #bakugou oneshot #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #bakugou x y/n #bhna bakugou #bakugo angst #bakugou fanfiction #bnha angst

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