#he’ll talk to me everyday and be like ‘i would potentially want to be in a relationship with you’

[gojotojis]

Butterfly pt.2

part one

this story will contain mentions of sexual assault, part one contains sexual assault please do not read if this will trigger you.

summary: gojo helps you heal from a traumatic sexual experience by showing you what consensual sex is like and just how good it can make you feel.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader

content MDNI: sexual assault mention, consensual sex, vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), praise kink, squirting, fingering, friends to loversish, healing, trauma, soft gojo, girl obsessed gojo, yearning, angst, protected sex

I am in no way romanticizing or gloryfing sexual assault, this is how I’m choosing to cope with my trauma. Any and all hate will be blcoked.

November

Gojo immediately regrets asking, he goes to wipe your tears but stops himself. The atmosphere has shifted, and he doesn’t know what to do or say. You have this strong urge to hug him and hope he hugs back, making you feel safe but that voice reminds you how horrid men can be.

“No,” you answer his question and you feel like heaving up the little bits of pizza you ate. You feel dirty and disgusting, wanting to crawl out of your own skin.

Before you can think, you’re climbing into his lap. You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, he’s stiff, completely taken by surprise as your inner conscience screams at you to get off him, to not let him touch you.

You should tense when his fingers trail up your spine, rubbing gently as his other hand holds the back of your head. It feels nice, to be held and treated so softly.

“You can talk to me, you can trust me,” he says, the urge to tell someone the truth I so strong but you’re scared he’ll think of you as disgusting or blame you for what happened.

His fingers thread through your hair until he’s massaging your scalp, and you sigh at the feeling. You’ve been craving physical touch for so long but it’s terrified you until now, until him.

You slowly look up at him, eyes locking with his through his glasses. You’re not sure if it’s depravation or desperation that makes you kiss his lips but you do.

Rejection hits you when he pulls you off of him, gently setting you beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, looking at your lap. The only friendship you have, potentially ruined.

“It’s okay, I should probably go,” he says and you nod, following him to the door.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

End of November

It’s been almost four weeks, since you’ve heard from him. He doesn’t text you, he doesn’t ask for a stupid little song even though you’ve made a list of them for everyday he’s missed.

You feel horribly sad, eyes lingering on the bottle of vodka sitting in front of you.

It also been four weeks since you’ve had a drink or touched drugs. A toxic cycle you’re trying to break, you’re not addicted to it. You like the numbness it brings, like an outlet or a cure to some sick disease festering inside of you.

Salem meows, making you look away. You crouch down and lift him up into your arms. He nuzzles against you, as you lay down on the couch.

You feel sick, utterly sick at how you managed to ruin the one good thing in your life. Why would he want to kiss you, someone so tainted and broken, someone so hideous.

The urge to break your lease and move away seems like the only reasonable option, even though deep down you know it’s insane.

How could you be so stupid? Why do you have to ruin everything?

Beginning of December Gojos Birthday.

The cold air nips at your skin, but you enjoy the walk home from work. Her Way by PartyNextDoor fills your ears, AirPods hidden under your black earmuffs.

You hiss as your ungloved hand reaches the freezing metal handle of the door to your building. You yank it open and rush inside, shivering.

Mrs. Tomioka stands by the mailboxes and smiles at you. You pause your music as her lips part.

“Oh dear, you need to layer up more,” she says staring at you dressed in nothing but leggings, a hoodie and fur boots. You simply nod, turning to walk away.

“How’s the cat?” she asks and your brows furrow.

“What?” You ask, she lives two floors above you and you’ve never mentioned Salem to her.

“The one your neighbor bought off me?” She asks.

“Gojo?”you ask and she nods.

“The little black cat he insisted I give to him. Someone had already bought him so he doubled it,” she says and your heart feels strange in your chest.

“You must have the wrong person, he said he found the kitten” you say and she shakes her head.

“No honey, it was him. The one with the blindfold, he said there was a girl in desperate need of a friend,” she says and you feel dizzy. You walk away from her, climbing up the stairs trying to process her words.

You find yourself walking to his door, hands gently knocking.

You feel a sense of euphoria when the door opens only it’s not Gojo. The woman you always see with him opens the door and stares at you. Your expression turns solem as she looks at you curiously.

“Is Gojo here?” You ask and she nods.

“He’s in the shower,” she says, your eyes catch the balloons with Happy Birthday written across them.

“It’s his birthday?” You ask and she nods.

“Thank you,” you say, walking toward your door and she closes his.

You pull out your phone and text him ‘Happy Birthday!’.

He doesn’t respond.

Mid December

The rooms dark as you curl into a ball, Salem nestled against your chest. Your anxiety’s so bad, you just want it to go away. Salems purring as your fingers run along his spine, grounding you. He’s the only thing keeping you afloat.

A light knock at your door has you blinking, you want to yell at them to go away but you’re drained of all energy.

The knocking continues, making Salem jump down from the bed. Annoyance fills you as you follow the kitten toward the front door, lifting him into your arms.

You don’t bother checking the peephole as you open it, so many feelings hit you as you stare at the man in front of you. Sadness, anger, confusion, yearning, it all hits you.

“Hi,” he says and your eyes sting. Salem fights to jump into his arms, so enthralled by the tall man.

You close the door and he doesn’t stop you.

“I just want to talk,” he says through the door as you set the cat down.

“I can explain,” he says but you don’t want to hear it. He’s like every man, they make you feel good until they don’t anymore.

He had promised not to hurt you and he lied, the organ beating in your chest hurts so badly because of him.

“Please go,” you whisper weakly, accepting that it’s over and he does.

December 22nd

Four messages hit your phone, Happy Birthday texts from your siblings, mom and grandma. You simply thank them with a heart emoji. You despise your birthday, another reminder of everything you’ve failed to accomplish in the previous year and how alone you are.

A knock at the door has you sighing, expecting the hideous daisies your grandma always sends you. You’re grateful and don’t have the heart to tell her how much you hate them.

The door swings open and you audibly gasp. Gojo stands there with his blindfold off and piercing blue irises stare into the depths of your soul. He’s beautiful, more so than you had conjured in your head.

“X & Y” he says and your head tilts, brows furrowing.

“What?” You ask.

“X & Y by Coldplay, that’s our song” he says, your chest tightens, you’ve heard it a million times.

I dive in at the deep end

You become my best friend

I want to love you but I don't know if I can

I know something is broken

And I'm trying to fix it

Trying to repair it

Any way I can

“It’s just a song,” you say and he shakes his head.

“Nothings just a song to you, it’s everything, it’s us” he says absolutely serious, blue eyes pinning yours.

“You kissed me and I couldn’t think, you’ve slowly become my bestfriend and that scared me. I had a bestfriend once, and he died… I thought I’d be sparing you from the horror that is my life because I don’t want to lose another friend, not you. But I saw you, hidden behind the music, spiraling and so scared. I saw you and never in my life have I wanted anything more,” he says, you stand there frozen trying to make sense of his words.

“You ignored me, made me feel unwanted, ashamed and so sad,”you whisper, eyes watering. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek against his palm.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’ve never done this. And I know you’re too good for me, a better person than I’ll ever deserve but I’m just a guy desperately wanting a girl, the girl, to talk to him again” he says . His words are so foreign to your ears, so full of adoration, need and genuinuity.

“You missed the songs,” you say as he steps closer.

“I’m sorry” he breathes looking down at you.

“You didn’t answer my texts” you whisper, as he enters the apartment.

“Hardest thing I ever did”.

“You lied to me about Salem,” you say and he shuts the door, your hearts beating so fast, too fast that you fear it’ll give out.

“You needed him,” he whispers, hands cupping your face and he kisses you.

This kiss sends shocks throughout your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The hairs on your arms stand up and your pupils dilate. His tongue prods against your lips and you open them, feeling his mouth hungrily lap at yours.

Your nails dig into the muscles of his arms, nipples hardening and core aching. Nothing but your mingled breaths, fill the apartment.

His hands slide down to your ass and you tense. You still against him and he stops, his forehead pressed against yours. His hands pin to your waist.

“I won’t hurt you, not ever,” he says and you nod, tears sliding down your cheeks. You want this to be real, to believe him.

“Pick a word. Any word, you use it and this all stops,” he says.

“Butterfly” you whisper, standing on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It’s sweet and gentle, this is Gojo, he won’t hurt you.

He pulls you down to the couch with him, straddling his waist. Nerves prickle at you, his fingers skimming the naked skin of your arms. You can feel the bulge underneath you and your eyes close.

“You’re safe,” he whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll never let anything bad happen to you,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. The safety net he’s created around you, creates warmth in your belly.

His lips brush against your neck, soft wet kisses trailing along the smooth column. You moan as he sucks at the skin, fingers gripping the wrist that hold your waist.

“Do you want me touch you?” he asks and you nod against him, you haven’t felt this kind of desire in your life, it outweighs your fear. You trust him.

“Show me where”he says and you redden, unsure of what he means. Your hand grabs his and he looks at you.

“Here” you say shyly, pressing his hand against your core. His hand moves against you, palm digging into your cloth covered pussy but the pressure feels so good. You bite your lip, face scrunching and it makes him painfully harder. He stops and you worry, but he fingers graze the waist band of your shorts.

“Is it okay if we take these off?” He asks and you nod, slowly standing up so he can slide them down you. You look down, nervous. The words fat, ugly, slut and whore resonate and your chest constricts. He kneels down infront of you, fingers grazing the hem of your tank top. He lifts it off and tosses it, leaving you in nothing but your panties. You fight the urge to cover yourself and hide.

“So beautiful,” he whispers looking up at you, and you sigh when his lips meet your belly. He peppers the flesh with kisses, every touch going to your core.

He gently moves you so you can sit back on the couch. Your chest heaves watching him kneeling before you. His fingers grip the edge of your panties, and you watch him slide them down. Your legs close and his large hands press against your thighs.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and you nod.

His eyes don’t leave yours as his hands pry you open. He looks at your pussy with lust and awe, fingers grazing through your folds and you buck against them.

His thumb grazes your clit and you cry, eyes locked on his.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” He asks and you nod, watching his thumb circle your clit and feel a long and thick finger, push inside of you. Your hands clutch at the couch cushions, desperate to claw at the flesh of his arms.

“Relax, gonna stretch you out” he whispers and you nod, trying your best to calm down despite the sensation inside of you. Your face morphs into discomfort when he adds a second finger, his movements slow down to let you adjust.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your clit for distraction and your eyes widen. Your fingers slide through his scalp and tug at the white silky strands when his tongue pokes your clit.

The feeling of his fingers become pleasurable and you grind against them, gasping when you feel his wet tongue drag across your pussy. It’s too much, you feel like you’re going to die.

His tongue flicks across your clit over and over until his mouth devours your pussy entirely, sucking it and lapping the juices that leak from you. You flush red as you grind against his face, chasing the end of what the knot in your stomach promises.

He groans against you and it vibrates your pussy making you cry out as you cum, his fingers speeding up their pace as he drags out your orgasm. Your legs shaking as your thighs try to close. He lazily licks at you, sending little aftershocks through you.

When he’s done, he presses several kisses to your cunt and then your inner thighs, to your belly and the valley between your breast until he’s kissing your lips. Everything about this is so erotic, you feel so high off of your release and how good he makes you feel.

He pulls back and his forehead presses against yours.

“Did you like it?” He asks and you nod, watching him grab your clothes. He chuckles as he slides your panties up and then your shorts. You raise your arms and he slides the tank top over you.

“Happy birthday” he whispers against your lips. You have no idea how he knows but you don’t care.

“Thank you,” you smile up at him.

“I have your gifts in my apartment,” he says making you feel tingly inside.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, “ you say, you feel horrible you didn’t get to see him on his birthday or even talk to him but that was his fault.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and walks out the front door. You rush to your room, and reach for the stupid thing you had made him. You feel doubt, he may hate it but it comes from your heart.

You sigh, looking at Salem curled into a ball on your bed and grab the cd. You close the door and see Gojo with several packages… you deflate. You’re actually the worst gift giver in the world.

“I know we didn’t get to see eachother for your birthday but I made you this which seems quite lame now. I know everything’s digital but I wanted you to have something physical,” you say handing him the blue wrapped gift.

He opens it and you swallow, as he stares at the cover. He laughs at the picture of Pearl with her pitchfork and turns it over to see the songs listed. His finger stills on track number seven.

“X & Y” he reads aloud and you nod.

“I told you we share the same brain” he says before kissing you, his arms circling your waist and lifting you off the ground. You smile against him.

You’re not use to this kind of affection, it feels overwhelming. It makes you want to just burst at the seams.

“I love it,” he says putting you down.

“Your turn,” he says gesturing toward the bigger box on the coffee table. You nervously touch the pink wrapping paper and rip it. You swallow roughly, staring at the white audio technica record player. You reach for the thinly stacked pile of gifts and open them revealing record after record of your favorite albums. Your throat feels raw, tears pricking your eyes and you look up at him.

Your arms wrap around him and squeeze him like if you let go he’ll be gone. Tears soak his shirt as his arms hug back, his lips press against the top of your head.

“Seemed like something you’d like” he said and you nodded. You wanted to collect vinyls but it’s such an expensive hobby, so you held off.

“Thank you, for everything”.

Beginning of January

Gojo: song ?

You: Coming Down, The Weeknd

Gojo: you’re freaky

You blush at the text.

You: aren’t you suppose to be working?

Gojo: I’d rather talk to you, let me see you

You hesitantly open your camera app, trying not to let the insecurities get to you as you snap a picture of you smiling and send it.

Gojo: so fucking pretty

Your insides stir at the compliment, you love the way he makes you feel. Fear tries to crawl its way up at the thought of this being taken away. It’s like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop because how could someone so beautiful be into you?

Mid January

Gojo wants to take you on a date but he’s aware of your anxiety, the way you hide behind your music when in public to avoid social interactions.

You love it just being the two of you, no expectations no pressure, just the two of you in this little bubble.

“Gojo?” You ask watching him eat his General tso on the couch and you eat your bourbon chicken across from him.

“What was your bestfriends name?” You ask and he stills. You hope you’re not crossing a line but you want to know everything about him, the good and the bad.

“Suguru Geto,” he says, his voice cracks and you look down at your lap.

“How’d he die?…” you ask, the room is silent as he thinks of what to say.

“Car accident” he lies to you, one day he’ll tell you the truth but he doesn’t want you to look at him differently, not now and not ever.

“I’m sorry, if you ever want to talk about it I’m here,” you say with sincerity, hand reaching to touch his. His fingers lace with yours and he stares at you, blue orbs in awe.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks and you nod, dreading what it is.

“What happened to you?”he asks, your fingers tremble as you look down at your lap. Your lips move and you speak, your ears block out every word, every detail that leaves you as tears roll down your cheeks. You avoid his reaction, you can’t bare for him to look at you differently.

When it’s done, your chest hurts like it’s being crushed.

You feel yourself being lifted, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as they wrap around his waist. Your arms fall over his shoulders and your head in the crook of his neck. You don’t realize you’re shaking against him as he presses kisses to your face.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers, trying to not think of you so scared and vulnerable. How someone could hurt you and be so cruel to you.

He carries you to his room and you fall asleep against his chest, his fingers grazing your back as he promises nothing bad will ever happen to you again.

Beginning of February

Your fingers grip the recliner, absolutely scared. You’ve never felt this scared from a movie but god it’s fucking brutal and you love it.

Gojo laughs as you jump from the chair in shock, he’s never seen you this animated.

“Christ…” you breathe watching the possessed girl stab her brother.

“It’s just a movie, baby” Gojo whispers, grateful he rented the movie theatre out. Even though he loves your reactions, popcorn would’ve been thrown at you by now.

“My stomach hurts” you whine.

“That’s anxiety,” he chuckles squeezing your hand. The jump scares are too much and you bury your face in his side. Your hands covers your face, eyes peeking through your fingers. You’re definitely sleeping at his place tonight, there’s no way you’re gonna be home alone after this.

Once the movies over, your hand grips his for dear life trying to process what the fuck you just watched.

“I assume you didn’t like it” he says.

“I loved it!” You answer, surprising him. Evil dead rise now easily one of the best horror movies you’ve seen in a long time.

He laughs as he holds your joined hands up to his lips. You both walk through the mall, stopping when Gojo sighs and you spot three teenagers staring at you with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

“Sensei!” A pink haired boy shouts running up to you.

“You have a girlfriend?” The spiky haired boy with him asks, looking to Gojo.

“She’s too pretty to be his girlfriend” the girl shakes her head.

“What are you three doing here?” He asks them.

“Following you,” the pink haired boy says like it’s the most normal answer.

“Yuji said you’ve been acting weird, so we decided to see for ourselves. Hi, I’m Nobara Kugisaki!” The girl says holding her hand out to you and you shake it.

“That’s Yuji, and that’s Megumi,” she says pointing to the boys beside her. Yuji smiles but Megumi simply looks bored. You instantly recognize them as Gojo’s students he had told you about.

“We were going to eat, did you want to join us?” You ask.

“No!” Gojo says.

“Yes!” Nobara and Yuji beam.

The five of you fall in step to the little pizza place inside the mall. Yuji and Nobara ask you a million questions while Gojo scowls beside Megumi.

You all find a table and order a half and half cheese and pepperoni pizza and then a Hawaiian pizza.

“He got you a cat?!” Nobara asks and you nod, pulling your phone out to show her pictures of Salem. She gushes, and smiles at Gojo.

“I wish someone would get me a cat?” She sighs taking a bite of her cheese pizza.

“The last thing you need is a cat” Gojo says and Megumis lips tug upward.

“How long have you guys been dating?” Yuji asks and your cheeks redden.

“Is this an interrogation?” Gojo asks and you chuckle, he seems annoyed by them but you can tell he loves them.

Gojo’s grateful when it’s over and you two are in his apartment after grabbing Salem from yours. Salem runs rampant around Gojo’s place.

“I love them” you say referring to his students and he smiles, pecking your lips.

“They’re a handful but they’re good kids, really good kids”.

March

You tense into Gojo’s side, his fingers gently grazing up and down your arm. It’s innocent but you feel it all around you. He hasn’t initiated anything since your birthday and you kind of wish he would.

The idea of sex doesn’t seem so scary since he made it enjoyable for you. He stares at the movie on the screen as you think about his head between your legs, his tongue licking at you. Your fingers dig into your thigh, and it’s like you can feel his fingers inside of you. A fire starts in your belly and you look up at him, he can feel your eyes on him and his brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Can you touch me?” you ask.

“I am,” he says, fingers tapping against your arm and you turn red.

“Down there” you whisper and feel him pull away from you. You fear you’ve ruined this routine you’ve fallen into but feel him lifting you up. You laugh as he tosses you over his shoulder and walks you to his room.

Your hearts in your ears, unsure of what will happen but you need to feel his skin against yours.

He sets you on the bed and you stare up at him with eager eyes.

“Safe word?” He asks.

“Butterfly” you say.

“Good girl” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I’m gonna undress you now” he says and you nod, standing up so he can take your clothes off. The rooms dark but the moonlight gives enough lighting for him to see your body. His hands glide up your sides, squeezing your hips.

Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging on it to let him know you want it off. You desperately want to see him. He smiles and lifts it up and over his head. Your stomach clenches at the sight of his muscled body and abs but the trail of white hair leading down into his pants makes your toes curl into the carpet.

“Can I touch you?” You ask and his hand grabs yours, pressing it against his stomach. Your fingers burn under the heat of his skin, sliding over the toned ridges of his body. He’s so warm you want to feel him against you.

“You’re so pretty”you tell him and he kisses you, his tongue finding home in your mouth, devouring you entirely. You moan against him, feel his fingers touch your clit. He bites your lips, rubbing against the bud and your face scrunches. A gasp escapes you when you feel his finger enter you, gently pushing you down onto the bed.

His finger fucks into you at a gentle yet deep pace, he wants you to enjoy this despite how badly he wants to fuck you into the mattress. His thumb works circles into your clit and your hips push forward, taking him deeper in you.

He adds a second finger and you cry, his pace slightly increasing but the fullness has you gripping the comforter as you writhe against him.

“Cum baby, you can do it” he encourages and you do when his fingers push against this one spot that has your eyes rolling back. You twitch against him he withdraws his fingers, your nipples become painfully hard as he takes them in his mouth.

“The sweetest girl” he says licking at them. He grabs your clothes and you stop him, kneeling up on the bed.

“I want more” you say nervously.

“Are you sure?” He asks and you nod, your trembling fingers reach for his belt, eyes locked on his as you undo it. Your fingers drag his zipper down and stop, anxiety crawls up. You feel like you’re going to throw up, he sees it and presses his forehead against yours.

“It’s me and you, you control this. One word and it stops, I won’t do anything you don’t want to” he says and you nod, kissing his cheek.

“Can you do it?” You ask and he nods, pushing you back down. You stare at the ceiling, listening to him undress and your throat bobs.

It’s Gojo, he would never hurt you.

He grabs a condom from the bed side drawer and tears it open with his teeth. You don’t look down, scared you’ll want this to stop. He rolls the condom on and spreads your legs open. Your heart is beating inhumanly fast.

“Let me take care of you” he says before pressing kisses to your inner thighs, easing the tension out of you. You whimper when you feel him kiss your clit before he crawls on top of you.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, feeling the head of his cock nudge at your opening. He feels too big as he tries to ease inside, and he see the panic in your eyes. He kisses your cheeks, hesitant to continue but you nod letting him know it’s okay. You want this, you want him.

The stretch is painful as he inches further inside of you, tears fall from your eyes and he feels so much guilt pressing kisses to every tear until he’s bottoming out inside of you.

You feel so full, but he doesn’t move, letting you adjust. His thumb circles your clit and you moan, squeezing around him. He groans at the feel of you choking the life out of his dick.

He hasn’t had sex in three years, something you don’t know and he doesn’t want to fuck this up by cumming before you do.

“You’re squeezing the life out of me baby, gotta relax” he says.

“I’m sorry” you squeak and he kisses you.

“It feels really good, but I gotta take care of you first” he assures you and you nod. Your mouth opens when he pulls out and slowly thrusts back in, he hits something deep inside of you and you tremble slightly.

He continues this slow thrusting, feeling your nails drag across his back. Milky white skin turning red.

He’s trying his best not to lose control but his thrusts become faster and you cry, feeling his hand press down on your stomach. He grunts with every thrust, sending heat to your pussy as you grip him like a vice.

“You’re doing so good baby,” he says knocking into your cervix and you both moan as his body crushes against yours, arms wrapping around you. He fucks into you over and over feeling you shake around him. You feel this strange sensation, like something is begging to release from you. He knocks into your cervix again and you sob, feeling yourself cum around him, liquid gushing out of you and you feel mortified.

“I’m sorry” you say as he stills inside of you, your thighs now wet.

“You squirted baby, it’s okay. Can you do it again?” He asks, you’re not sure but you nod and he moves inside of you, thrust harder and faster as he ruts into you, he grabs your hand and places it over your belly underneath his.

You feel the bulge he’s making inside of you, feel his cock moving inside of you under your skin and it sends you over the edge, cumming like your life depends on it and he grunts, fucking into you until he’s cumming too. He pulls out and rolls you over to lay on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks and you smile up at him.

“I think I love you” you say and he laughs.

“I know I love you,” he says back.

“You do?” You ask and he nods.

“I knew it the moment you saw Salem in my arms, like for the first time, there was something worth caring about,” he says, your fingers tracing circles into his chest.

“I think you’re healing me” you say.

“I think we’re healing eachother” he says pressing his lips to your temple.

“All I want is you. I want this everyday, forever, you, me and salem” he says, and you smile. You press a kiss to his sternum.

“You, me and Salem”.

I’ll do grammar check later, I was trying to get this out asap! thanks for reading! Also I didn’t mention it but it’s canon that gojo lied about needing eggs, milk and sugar just as an excuse to talk to her!

@kakashixhatakesxwhore @erensblackwife

[saber-slutt]

It Just Makes Sense (Cad Bane x F!reader) 18+

Hey gang! A fic with smut! Who cheered!

Anyways, 18+. I’ve decided that my whole blog will be 18+, so please block me if you’re a minor, thanks!

≽^•⩊•^≼ Warnings: Smut, m receiving (f receiving in next chapter), female reader, dirty talk, mating cycles, Cad Bane

≽^•⩊•^≼ Please leave criticism! I’ll take anything, I just want to improve at writing

Cad Bane liked to consider himself above the primal instincts that resided in the core of every being. He was a hunter, of course, but a sophisticated one. That’s why this time of year, in the weeks leading up to his mating period, he was rather irritable. Quick to snap at Todo, reserved towards you, and overall angrier. It sucked. For you, specifically. You had only known Bane for a few rotations. You met him as you held a lot of information on one of his bounties, and you helped him catch the guy (rather gleefully, too, that man had stolen many credits from you). Bane took some pity on you, as your life resembled a lot of his youth, and invited you to work aboard his ship for a while. Your smarts and beauty would surely come in handy in trapping and luring potential bounties. And it had. But maker, you were wishing you could go back in time and not take this job. Credits be damned. Looking at his beautiful face be damned. Bane was being a dick. And he was getting worse everyday.

You had sympathy at first. You knew Duros mating periods were rough. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not feel like yourself, and giving into something that wasn’t you, but still, somehow was. But right now, Bane was taking it too far. He acted as if you couldn’t do anything right. Ship maintenance, cleaning, cooking, it was all wrong to him. And he brutally vocalized his displeasure. Your patience was wearing thin. Just one more week, you thought as you bit back your tongue from his recent snap, (“I don’t know why ah’ took you aboard, you can’t even clean a damn window right!”) just one more week until he’ll be down for a week in a pheromone crazed episode. Then I’ll be free from him, and he’ll come back normal.

You sighed as you sat back in the copilots seat, hesitantly turning to Bane. “Listen, your mating period is coming soon. Do you have any plans? Where are we gonna stop and wait, while you, y’know?” you began.

“Shuddup. Ah don’t wanna talk bout it with you.”

“Come on, please? It’s getting close now. You’re not the only one this affects. I really know nothing, and I need to make some plans. Do you need help with arrangements?”

“Ah don’t need your damn help! Jus’ stay out of the way and stop bein’ an idiot,” he shouted, before stalking out of the cockpit to his quarters.

You turned to Todo, whispering, “Is he always this much of an asshole before his mating period?”

Loud footsteps charged back into the cockpit. Oops. Not whispering quietly enough. You couldn’t even react before long fingers wrapped around your throat and lifted you from the copilots chair to standing on your tip-toes.

You gasped, while he growled, “You have no idea what this is like. I’ve handled it for almost thirty years before you, and I will handle it after you. Unless you want me to fuck you for a week straight, I suggest you be silent and stay out of the way.”

You only stared back with wide eyes.

He dropped you back into the seat and stalked off again. You didn’t dare to breathe.

Four days had passed since that incident. You hadn’t spoken to him. You knew he would never force you into anything, but he had also never been physical with you. He had scared you, plain and simple. You sighed as you sat on your bed in your quarters, fiddling with a sweater you were knitting, feeling rather bored. One of your favorite pastimes was annoying Cad Bane. But now, you were confined to isolation. Worse yet, you still had no idea what his plans were to take care of his mating period. Which was a problem, considering it was three days away. He was also becoming antsy (sexually). You had never heard him take care of himself before; he once joked that jacking off requires more effort than just walking into the nearest bar and finding someone to suck him off. You had heard him a few times at night in the past week, groaning and growling through the walls. You felt a wetness between your thighs at the memory. Maker, you wished you could hear him groan and growl in your ear, hands wrapping around your thighs as he spread you wider, pounding into you at a merciless pace as you could only whimper-

“Hey, lil’ lady,” Cad Bane interrupted your thoughts, standing in your doorway. You jumped out of your skin. “There’s a brothel on Nar Shaddaa that caters to species mating periods. We’re going there soon. You can just lay low on the ship for the week.”

You didn’t say anything, a look of fear etched on your face. You prayed that he didn’t suspect what was just running through your mind. Hopefully, he would leave soon, before his olfactory organs could pick up on your pooling wetness.

He sat down on the edge of your bed.

Shit.

He raised his head to the air, eyes closing, and basking in the scent of the room for a moment. “Doll, you can’t do this so close to. . . it’s unfair.”

You stayed quiet and wide-eyed, truly not knowing what to say next.

“Ah’ could really go for a lil’ taste, right now.”

You sucked in a breath, “Bane.”

He moves closer, taking your face in his fingers and forcing you took look at him, “It’s takin’ everything in me not to jump you right now, and pin you down while I fuck you so hard you can’t stop screaming,” he growls, before backing off as quickly as he had started toward you, “Course, then I wouldn’t let you leave, and you’d be stuck with me for a week.”

You were breathing heavy now. Lust clouded eyes meeting Banes’ own. His self control was truly impeccable. Three days, give or take, before he would enter a pheromone-filled, sex-crazed episode, and he was restraining himself.

“I’m setting a course for Nar Shaddaa,” he growled, standing, leaving your room and slamming your door.

Maybe a few months earlier, you would’ve left it at that. But you had grown closer to Bane, and you trusted him. And truth was, you were worried about him. Unlike Cad Bane himself, you were open with your emotions, and you wanted him in good hands during what you knew was a difficult time for him (also, the prospect of him undressed and wrapped up with someone else send jealous pangs through you). You maybe, possibly, had a tiny, itsy-bitsy crush on the Duros. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were down bad. And spending a few months in close proximity with him did not alleviate these feelings. You decided that you would proposition him for his cycle. It just makes sense.

You walked nervously into the cockpit. Cad Bane was sitting straight as a board in the captains chair, staring out at the hyperspace blue illuminating the front windows.

“Cad,” you started, the name foreign on your tongue. You didn’t call him by his given name, out of an unspoken sort of respect, but now you needed to truly, truly, speak with him.

“Go to your room. Now.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Listen-“

“If ya stay here any longer I can’t be held responsible for what happens to ya. It’s here earlier than I thought,” he drawled. “I want ya to go to your room and lock the door. Don’t let me in no matter what I say. We won’t make it to Nar Shaddaa in time, because I’ll be fully under in a few hours.”

“And what? You’ll go through it alone?”

“Yep. Grab some food and water for the week.”

“Wait, just wait, what if I do it?” you questioned, a bit frantically.

He said nothing, scoffing at your hasty proposition.

“I’m serious! Everyone knows how bad Duros breeding cycles can be. If you don’t have someone, you’ll be in hell. I don’t want that,” you pouted.

Internally, Cad Bane didn’t want to argue. The image of you under him, face twisted up in pleasure and completely at his mercy was difficult to pass up. But it’s a lot to ask of someone. You’d be exhausted by the end of it, bruised and busted. He’d get to reap all the benefits from it; a week of pleasure with a pretty person. Not to mention the possibility you could get pregnant, which neither of you could handle. But still, you were offering, and he’d be in hell otherwise.

“You understand what that entails?” he queried.

“Yes, sir,” you spoke softly. He shifted.

“Still, der are some things you gotta be clear with.”

You were feeling brave now. “Okay, but, what if we take the edge off first? Before we go through the details” you questioned, eyes gesturing to the bulge in his pants. He straightened up again, silent as all hell but letting out a curt nod, signaling his approval.

You lowered yourself to your knees. He watched you intensely, but remained unmoving and stiff. Gingerly, you undid his fly and pulled him out, already hard. You looked up at him with doe eyes, before kitten-licking his tip. He shifted and lightly hissed at the contact, bucking slightly. You licked again, and again, gradually licking longer stripes, as Bane’s resolve dissipated.

He growled, “Put me in your mouth. Stop teasin’ me.”

You complied. You were unfamiliar with Duros anatomy. His cock was long and ridged, and almost indigo in color. Maker, was he long. You felt a gush of liquid between your thighs at the fact. Surely, you’d see the bulge in your stomach when he split you open.

You worked Bane’s cock like your life depended on it. You bobbed your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks and applying slick pressure with your hands where you just couldn’t reach. Filthy, wet sounds filled the room as you occasionally let him hit the back of your throat, tears welling in your eyes. You let out a couple of whimpers, which based on the way he growled and bucked in return, he greatly appreciated.

“It’s gettin’ close doll,” he let out in a strained voice, “swallow all of it.”

You whimpered in response. Cad Bane’s self-control snapped. He grabbed the back of your head, fingers wrapped up in strands of your hair, and forcefully guided you up and down his cock, moving you so fast you didn’t have time to breathe. Tears fell from your eyes. With barely a grunt as warning, he came, spilling past your tongue and down your throat. He held your head on his cock and didn’t allow you to move, forcing you to drink every last drop, moaning before each time you swallowed. And maker, was there a lot of his cum, and you knew it would definitely spill out of you in the future. Finally, your mouth slid off Bane’s cock, a strand of spit connecting your lip to his to his tip. Panting, you look up at him. Expecting to see a sated Bane, instead you were met with an even more lustful stare. You felt heat rise in your cheeks.

“Not bad, lil’ lady,” he began. “But I’m still hoping for that taste I was talkin’ about earlier.”

[hearts4shadow]

SC4R4 DAT1NG HC’$!!

First off, i think he doesn’t really like expressing his love towards you with words, so he either writes little love poems to you or he affectionally calls u names, example:

— KNKZSH:

“God, stop annoying me, worm..” (I love you and i wish to be by your sides everyday i wake up.)

I don’t think Kuni would be sexually active, in fact, he’s a gentleman! He would for sure ask for consent when he’s in the mood, but that’s for the nsfw hcs!

He’s the clingiest person ever, the thought of cheating makes him SICK to his stomach, he would never! The moment you came into his life, he wouldn’t leave you for ANYTHING.

Maaybe has yandere potential, he does get a tad bit obsessive, but just a little, he once saw you talking to Childe, he just quietly observed you talking to him while he thought of the most brutal ways to beat him up.

Sometimes, in his room, he just stares at his ceiling while listening to music, thinking about you, he would make silly scenarios in his head with you guys getting married and living a happy life, he also saves up money to maybe buy a house with you. <3

You guys went dressed up to the Fnaf movie, he went as Foxy, you went as Mangle, afterwards, you both went to cuddle in bed while watching MatPat’s theories.

In nights where you can’t sleep, he sings for you to sleep, like, he makes you lay on his lap and he’ll sing I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski (or any song you want:3)

Absolutely compliments you from head to toes when you feel insecure, like bro, if you ask him to bark for you he will. /hj

Overall, he just loves you very much as his lover, he worships you and never wants to leave your side. ♡︎

TH3 3ND!

UGHH TH3 $ILLYY, 4nywh0, ty f0r r3ading t1ll her3! R3memb3r to r3que$t y0ur id3a and st4y s4fe! Ily!

[marie-swriting]

We're Gonna Get Outta Here

Masterlist

Summary : You're working for W.I.C.K.E.D but you can't take it anymore when your best friend dies during the Maze Trial. With Thomas' help, you give information to the Right Arm and try to get out of the facility together.

Warnings : character's deaths (reader included), guns and gunfire, mention of violent interrogation, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.7k

French version on Wattpad

French version on Tumblr

In front of the computer, you’re completing your daily tasks : observing Maze A, testing the subjects and writing down the results of today’s experiences. You comply like a robot. You know if you think too much, you’ll realise all the pain you’re inflicting. So you try to keep an emotional distance with the Maze Trials, with the subjects, with your friends. However, some days are harder than others, especially when, first thing in the morning, you get a file with the word “death” written on it. Sometimes you see those deaths live, other times they happen when your work is already over. When you’ve started your day, you didn’t know another person had failed the trial. Anxious, you open the file and read ‘Subject A25 : Nicolas’. Tears form in your eyes in an instant. You close the folder and pretend you need to use the bathroom. You try to sob in silence but if someone listens carefully, they can hear your pain. You’re short of breath everytime you think back to this paper. This paper telling you about the death of your best friend since you were ten. He’s not the first to die but his death is your last straw. You wish you could scream all your despair, but you can’t. You can’t feel anything while working ; for W.I.C.K.E.D, you’re here to find a cure, not to do feelings. Sacrifices need to be made. You can’t forget it. Janson won’t let you. Your tears are stronger when suddenly someone knocks on the door. You stop sobbing, fearing you’ll be discovered. When you hear Thomas’ voice, you open to him. He stays in front of you for a few seconds before daring to talk.

“I read the file. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’m sick of it, Thomas.” you say, angry, “I can’t watch them die anymore. I can’t watch my friends die anymore. I want it to stop ! I know we’re doing it for a good cause, but do we really need to sacrifice all these human lives for a potential cure ? It is not fair.”

“I know.”

“I want to get them out of there. I want us to get them out of there and leave with them, far away from W.I.C.K.E.D. I won’t be able to take another death, Thomas. I… I can’t.” you pronounce with a broken voice.

Ignoring what to say, Thomas takes you in his arms. He hopes he’ll reassure you but he knows in this kind of situation, it’d be an utopia. You’re doomed to see horrors in the hope to save humanity. Nothing he could do or say would help you to get better. He knows it because he tries everyday to reassure himself, in vain.

“We should go.” you resume, breaking your embrace, “Janson is gonna wonder where we are.”

“You’ll be okay ?”

“Will they ?” you retort, eyes full of pain.

Thomas stays silent, knowing he can’t answer your question honestly. You give him one last look, leave the bathroom and go back to your job. Thomas takes a few minutes before going back as well, a neutral expression on his face. As for you, you use your computer as if a few instants before you weren’t overwhelmed by your emotions. You both act like they taught you.

The next few days, you grieve in silence. Thomas stays by your side even though he feels useless. However, he doesn’t realise it but he helps you to not sink because you tell yourself that despite everything, you still have Thomas. You’re not entirely lost. You still have a reason to go on.

During the night, you both leave your respective dormitory, meeting each other in an isolated room in the W.I.C.K.E.D facility, like you always do whenever one of you is feeling down. You don’t do anything special there. You just cuddle, trying to forget the pain of the world and yours. It’s not successful but you’re there for each other. That night, Thomas breaks the silence with important information.

“I know how we can help them.”

“What do you mean ?”

“You remember Doctor Mary ?��� he asks and you nod, “She left W.I.C.K.E.D because she didn’t agree with their experiences anymore. She works for the Right Arm now.”

“The Right Arm, the resistance ?” you want to make sure, looking at him.

“Yeah. I think she could delay some of their plans with the information she had but now, she doesn’t have access to it anymore. If we can communicate with her, we can help them. We’ll give the Right Arm everything they’ll need before leaving.” Thomas states, determined.

“How can we find her ? The Right Arm must be untraceable.”

“I started researching when we learned of Nicolas' death. I think I’m about to find them. It’ll be dangerous but we can get our friends out of these mazes. What do you say ?”

“I’m with you.” you accept, without an ounce of hesitation, “I want to bring down W.I.C.K.E.D.”

You look into each other’s eyes, courage taking possession of your body. You have a plan and you’ll make sure you’ll put it into action as soon as possible. Sacrifices have been going on for too long.

When Thomas has finally found the Right Arm, he lets you know. During the night, you both get in one of the rare rooms where there is a radio to communicate with the outside and start the call. You’re happy to be so close and yet scared that the Right Arm might not trust you.

“Hello ? I’m Thomas, I work for W.I.C.K.E.D and I got information for you.” he starts the conversation without an answer, “Mary ? Are you there ? It’s me Thomas. I can help you.”

You stay silenced for a few moments. Thomas is about to cut the communication off when he hears a feminine voice.

“Thomas ? I’d never thought I’d hear from you. Are you safe ? Are you alone ?”

“Y/N is with me. We want to give you all the information you’ll need to bring down W.I.C.K.E.D. We don’t want to see our friends die anymore.”

“We want it to stop. No one deserves to be in those mazes. We want to save them.” you add with teary eyes.

“Very well. I’m going to talk with the other members of the Right Arm. I’ll call you back tomorrow around the same time to organise ourselves. Keep a low profile.”

“Thanks Mary.”

When the call is over, Thomas puts the radio aside and turns to you. Even though you have to wait for the Right Arm’s approval, you both can’t help but smile. You have Mary’s support. You’ll be able to get out of here.

“Thanks Thomas.” you say, “You’ve given me hope again. I never thought it’d be possible.”

“We’ll do everything to help them. We’ll do it.”

When the Right Arm accepts to collaborate with you, you and Thomas start gathering important data and communicate with them once a week. You and Thomas give only a few to let them get ready without alerting Doctor Paige or worse Janson.

One night, while you’re getting ready to sleep, Teresa takes you aside, with a compassionate smile on her face.

“I heard about Nicolas. I’m sorry.” she states genuinely, “but we can’t forget why we’re doing all of this. We must find a cure. The Flare is becoming deadlier every day.”

“I know,” you answer without any emotion, “I’m going to bed, I’m tired.”

Teresa puts her hand on your arm, showing you her support. You smile slightly at her before going to your bed. Your friend’s words have upset you. You know Teresa doesn’t act meanly. She told you her story with her mom, you know why she desperately wants to find a cure. But for you, it doesn’t justify the fact that people act as if all these deaths didn’t represent anything. They represent something for you : your cowardice, your impotence, your pain, but above all, your privilege to have escaped the Trials.

When Thomas and you started working for the Right Arm, you had thought of letting Teresa know but your doubts had held you back. Your conversation with your friend proved to you, you did the right thing. Teresa wouldn’t have agreed with your actions, no matter if you’re friends. For her, W.I.C.K.E.D is really good.

Two months passed, Thomas and you have succeeded to forward information without being noticed. The nights where W.I.C.K.E.D have to handle some crisis, you give more details, allowing the Right Arm to perfect their attack plan. You’re still at the facility, waiting for the perfect moment to run away.

One night, Thomas gives the week’s data before joining you in you and Thomas' shared room. Besides being your safe place, it has also become the place where you wait for the other before debriefing.

When Thomas comes into the room, he sits next to you on the ground. You take each other in your arms and stay silent at first, allowing Thomas to release the fear of being found. When his breath is calmer, he draws your attention.

“Next week, we’re leaving this place. I talked about it with Mary and if we give every known place of their facilities and labs, they’ll have enough to bring down W.I.C.K.E.D so we’ll be able to clear off. You’ll take care of forwarding everything and I’ll take care of making sure we have a way out. They’ll be able to save our friends from the Mazes and take us away from this organisation. Everything is settled.”

“Thomas, it’s risky.” you retort, anxious, “We’re lucky we haven’t gotten caught yet. It’d be too much in one go.”

“We have one week to plan everything correctly. I already have some idea of how we can do it. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get outta here.” he assures you, making you think a little more.

“I trust you, Thomas.”

The following week, your plan is ready. It’s still risky but it can work. You've kept an even lower profile to not give Janson any reason to be suspicious. You do exactly what is asked, without showing any rebellious sign.

When the plan has started, you get every file you need to send, it takes longer than usual. Your stress is at its peak while you’re looking at the downloading line. You can’t stop watching around, afraid to be discovered. For Thomas, he’s on his way toward the control centre. He needs to be sure you both will be able to get out of the facility once you're done. He needs to fight some of the guards on the way, he barely handles them. While he’s doing everything to open the doors, the last data is finally transferred to the Right Arm. You sigh in relief and leave the room. You’re careful on your way to the place Thomas told you to go to. When he’s done with everything for your escape, he hears the walkie-talkie of one of the guards he’s knocked down.

“Need backup. One subject out of the dormitory. Information transferred outside. Janson knows about it. Over.”

Panic takes possession of Thomas’ body, he leaves the room running. He doesn’t try to be discreet, he just wants to find you. You both can’t waste another second, it’s now or never to leave. While he’s looking for you, he finds Teresa around a corner.

“Thomas ? What are you doing here ?” she questions.

“I could ask you the same thing.” he answers, trying to hide his stress.

“I’m working with Doctor Paige after my day. Everything alright ? You should be in your dormitory.”

“I… I need to find Y/N.” Thomas admits, not wanting to waste even more time, “Look, we’re getting outta here tonight but she got caught. Help me find her. If you want to follow us or not, that’s up to you but help me. We just want to leave this place. We don’t want all this blood on our hands anymore.”

“Thomas, I don’t-”

“You’re gonna help me or not ?!” he cuts her off, impatiently.

Teresa doesn’t have the time to answer him that guards are already grabbing Thomas and pushing him backward. He tries to fight them while Teresa is watching the scene, shocked. Thomas is being dragged by force in one of the parts of the facility he knows all too well. They’re going to erase his memory and put him in the maze. He can’t let that happen. He needs to fight. He needs to at least make sure you’re safe. The guards tighten their grip on the teenager, preventing him from moving. When they arrive in the room, they tie him down on a stretcher before ejecting him a product, making him fall asleep instantly. Thomas is changed while he gets more injections, Janson looking at everything they're doing to him. As for you, you’re being interrogated violently. They want to know where the Right Arm is hiding. You stay silent at every punch. You try to recover from an umpteenth hit when you quickly hear a walkie-talkie. One of the guards takes you by the arm and forces you to walk. You don’t look where you’re going, too exhausted. Nothing has importance anymore. You got caught. You won’t be able to escape. You’ll be put on high surveillance or you’ll be sent into the Maze. You only hope Thomas was luckier than you. When you arrive in the room with the guards, they throw you on the ground. You don’t move until you hear Janson’s voice.

“I have to admit you could have gotten away with it. We had doubts there had been leaks but nothing was certain. You knew how to hide your betrayal. But it wasn’t enough. You have been careless today which is why we found you both.”

“Both ?” you ask, hoping you didn’t hear correctly.

“I know very well you weren’t acting on your own, Y/N. Say hello to Thomas. He’s just over there.” he smiles, showing you something behind him.

“Thomas ? Let him go !” you scream, trying to stand up but the guards stop you. “It was my idea ! It wasn’t his fault ! Let him go !”

Your gaze is fixed on Thomas who is trapped in some kind of vertical basin being filled with water. He’s hitting the glass while Janson gets closer to you with a machiavellian smile.

“You were two in on it. You’re going to pay for the consequences of your selfishness.”

“Our selfishness ? What a joke.”

“You tried to fail experience to find a cure that could save humanity for some friends. I think we can say it’s not very charitable.”

“Let him go, please.” you repeat, desperate.

“Oh no ! You’re going to watch his lung being filled with water.” he states, holding your face, forcing you to look at the scene.

Thomas' body is almost fully under water. His head is only above it, allowing him to scream as loud as he can, but the wall lower his voice.

“You're a monster.” you spat

“A man of science, I prefer.”

Thomas keeps screaming, begging them to let you go, but his efforts are vain. The process is almost over and Janson would have never accepted, too proud to have stopped W.I.C.K.E.D’s two traitors.

“Tell me what I can do. If you leave him alone, I’ll do everything you’ll tell me.” you propose.

“Very well. So be a good girl and never speak again.”

When he’s done talking, Janson quickly takes out a weapon and shots you. You don’t have the time to react that your body is already hitting on the ground. Thomas yells louder, even if he’s on the verge of drowning. His tears are getting lost in the basin while he’s watching your blood spreading out on the floor. He keeps hitting the wall, drawing Janson’s attention. He looks at him with a devilish smile. Thomas shows every ounce of anger and frustration until the water in his lungs makes him lose consciousness. Janson sighs happily before ordering someone to get rid of your body and to transfer Thomas into Maze A where his Trial is about to begin.

Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

[heykoonsy]

Word Count:  2.5k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: “Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language, violence & threatening dialogue

Author's Note: Writing this chapter really helped me process leaving my last job. Quitting has been very rewarding, as I am now treated with the respect I always deserved. This chapter is dedicated to the ones that struggle to stand up for themselves; and I hope that you have the courage when you need it.

Husk tossed a few articles of laundry Angel’s way and he caught them effortlessly in the hamper he’d outstretched. Once they’d organized and collected all of the dirty laundry, it was time to get everything cleaned up again. Angel had a busy day today. But, first things first, he had to get himself right again. That meant clearing up his pigsty. 

“Thanks again for helpin’, Husky.” Angel cooed. 

Husk shrugged instead of responding. 

Angel smiled. Husk had been helping him recover over the last few days. Since he finally owned up to everything, he realized how much easier it was to breathe. It didn’t feel like he was in this alone anymore–like everything was on his shoulders. And it was partly his fault. His mind went to Cherri, who he’d been incredibly inconsistent with these last few weeks. She deserved so much more than a friend with one foot out the door–ready to ditch her the moment things got hard.

Angel got busy moving all of his things to the laundry room–dumping his clothing in the first available washer. Husk followed in behind him, carrying another load of laundry with him. Angel poured in some detergent and set the machine quickly. Husk mirrored his movements, grabbing the detergent once Angel was done with it. He smiled at him, two loads down.

Which meant that he needed to get out of here. 

Angel looked down at his phone as Husk set the machine. He opened his chat with Agony and typed out a message to him.

I want to talk, can we meet for coffee at the Cafe?

If Angel were honest, he wasn’t expecting a message back. Hell, Agony could have blocked him already–and Angel couldn’t blame him for it. He’d been a terrible friend to him. But, if Agony gave him the time of day, he would show him that he wasn’t going to let him down again.

“I did it. No telling if he’ll see it though.”

Husk nodded, “Give it time.”

Angel nodded, “Okay,” he said and put away his phone. “Well, I’m off. If I don’t get back in time–

“I’ll switch out the laundry,” Husk waved him off. “And walk Fat Nuggets.”

Angel smiled, “Make sure to give him plenty of treats today.”

Husk crossed his arms, “He gets plenty of treats everyday.”

With that, Angel left the laundry room and collected his purse from his room. He looked at Husk, who was walking down the hallway as he left his room. Husk nodded at him, and it renewed his confidence in a way. He could do this–he could fix what he broke.

Angel sat in the lobby, awkwardly clutching his purse at his side. He looked at the receptionist in front of him as he clacked away on a keyboard. Angel could tell that he was as surprised to see him here as Angel was to be here. Granted, it must have been awkward seeing as how the last time he was here…

“Angel,” came a stern voice from Angel’s right. 

Angel stood, his eyes immediately going to Tezan. “I was hopin’ that we could talk.”

Tezan didn’t beat around the bush–instead, he led Angel to a small conference room. In fact, it was the same one that he’d fired Mr. Jullien in a few weeks ago. Which made this all the more awkward.

Tezan beckoned Angel to sit down in the row of empty chairs in front of them. He took the first available one and Tezan took the one at the head of the table. They exchanged a look, and Angel gripped his purse.

“It’s too late,” Tezan said menacingly. 

Angel nodded, “I know. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” Tezan asked, his voice laden with venom.

Angel cleared his throat, hoping that it might give him some much needed confidence. “I wanted to apologize.”

Tezan stayed quiet–and Angel hazarded a glance upwards. It looked like Tezan was absolutely bewildered. 

“Valentino was desperate for investors after Spitzers–and I tempted you into getting into bed with him despite knowing how terrible he is.”

Tezan didn’t know what to say, it seemed, because he remained quiet. Angel let everything settle for a moment. 

“I also wanted to address…how I went about…” Angel trailed off.

“Having me blacklisted?” Tezan finished for him, the venom returning to his voice.

“Yes,” Angel admitted. He took a moment to collect himself. “I blurred the lines of our relationship by flirtin’ with ya the way I did. I was playin’ a part for Val and used you. When you started comin’ to the studio all the time, I didn’t know how to tell you I wasn’t interested.”

Tezan sat with his words for quite some time. It seemed like an eternity passed between them in that small conference room.

“Is that all?” Tezan asked after a while. 

Angel nodded. “I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I wanted you to know.”

“So you say your piece and that’s it?”

Angel nodded, “Yeah, that’s it. If you wanna tell Valentino then I’m not gonna stand in your way.” Angel got up to leave.

Tezan stood from his chair. His body language changed. Where there was once stiff anger–there was now tottering wariness. Tezan seemed to have swallowed his bitter feelings. “I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable,” Tezan said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you either–I let my pride get the better of me.”

Angel nodded in acknowledgement.

“It’s a shame,” Tezan said, hanging his head. 

Angel took a moment to read his expression. All he saw were eyes of regret.

Suddenly, Angel’s phone began ringing. He pulled it out of his purse and saw Jax’s name illuminating the screen. Angel looked over at Tezan and they shared a knowing glance. 

“I’m sorry–

“It’s okay,” Angel assured him, though he wasn’t sure why he did so.

As Angel exited the small conference room, he answered the call. 

“Hey Jax, what’s up?”

“Valentino would like to see you, he’s sending a vehicle to come collect you.”

“I’m at Jullien’s,” Angel said into the receiver.

“Understood,” Jax said and hung up promptly.

Angel Dust seemed to shrink as he walked towards Valentino’s office doors. He’d done so a thousand times before–each time seemed insignificant compared to this one. This time, he was genuinely terrified.

Before he left Mr. Jullien’s offices, Tezan mentioned to Angel that he’d called Valentino just before Angel checked in with the receptionist. He didn’t leave much to interpretation–choosing to tell Valentino every bit of information that he’d acquired. When he was standing out front with Tezan, Angel knew that he was stepping towards the gallows–but now that he was in front of them…

Without warning, Jax placed a hand on his shoulder. Angel didn’t shake off his hand, he only looked up at him curiously. 

“I can go in with you,” Jax said, his eyes looking into Angel’s.

Angel shook his head. “I’ll be okay,” Angel said reassuringly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure himself or Jax. 

Angel swallowed hard as he gripped the handle of the door. The only way out, he thought to himself, is through. Before he could talk himself out of it, Angel thrust open the door. 

The first thing he saw was an ashtray hurtling towards him. Angel dodged it, and it smashed into pieces against the door where Angel’s head was seconds earlier. 

“You fucking whore!” Valentino screamed.

Angel stepped towards him, instead of running away, which is exactly what every bone in his body was telling him to do. 

“You know, it starts to lose it’s bite after a while,” Angel shrugged, referring to his choice of words. 

“You think you can make jokes!? After what I just heard!?”

Angel watched as he crossed from behind his desk to meet Angel face to face. Valentino got up close and personal, so close that Angel could feel his hot breath on his face. Angel looked up at him–into his eyes. He was glaring down at him, using his height as an advantage to intimidate him. 

“You and that investor thought you could fuck me over?”

Angel didn’t reply, simply choosing to let Valentino blow off steam. 

“I made you–you were nothing when you started working for me,” Val reminded him, like he forgot. “If you think you can make it in this business without me then you are mistaken.”

Angel let his threats slide right off of him.

“Got nothing to say?” Valentino grabbed his face in his hand, squeezing his cheeks together roughly. His claws dug into Angel's plush fur, and he blinked away a few stinging tears. 

“I should have done this sooner,” Angel said, every drop of malice in his body going straight into his words. 

Valentino threw him back into the door and Angel’s head smacked it hard. “I will destroy you and that pathetic investor,” Valentino threatened, getting in Angel’s face again. “You will be begging me to let you crawl back in here.”

Angel looked at him straight in the eyes. “I won’t be begging you for anything. I am done taking orders from you.”

“Oh, you think you’re better than this? Angel Baby, this business is all that you are. You are a whore, it doesn’t matter if you’re nominated for an award or not. All you’re good for is a fuck.” Valentino grabbed Angel by the shoulders and threw him back against the door again. 

Angel pushed him away, “If I wanted a wannabe-pimp’s opinion, I would ask!” 

Angel opened the door behind him and quickly went through it. He found himself on the other side, his eyes meeting Jax’s. Jax grabbed his hand and they took off running to the stairwell. Angel looked back, to where Valentino’s office door was just opening. The two of them ran down the stairs together, Jax in front and Angel tripping over himself in tow. 

When the two of them reached the bottom floor, Jax released Angel’s hand. He then opened the door for him once last time and let him walk out. Angel smiled at him–and then ran in the direction of the hotel.

Angel stumbled back into the hotel lobby feeling more weighed down than ever. He took a deep breath and looked over at the bar. He didn’t see Husk. Angel walked towards the stairwell, his first priority being his laundry. 

Once he entered the laundry room, he saw that all of his clothing and baskets were gone. He smiled and made his way towards his room next. When he opened the door, he saw that his laundry baskets were placed on his bed–his clothing was folded and ready to be put away. Since Fat Nuggets was nowhere in sight, that meant one thing. 

While Angel waited for Husk to return, he put away his laundry–taking extra care not to unfold his clothing. He could just imagine Husk fretting over tucking everything neatly–even rolling up his lacey panties. He knew he should have been embarrassed, but he wasn’t in the slightest. Just thinking of Husk blushing like a schoolgirl after seeing his unmentionables brought a smile to his face.

After Angel put away his last piece of laundry, he tossed his laundry baskets onto the floor. He sat on his bed and waited for Husk–who was just down the hallway. He could tell because Fat Nuggets’ hooves were going a mile a minute towards the door. Husk opened the door quickly and Fat Nuggets jumped up on Angel. 

“Did you have fun?” Angel asked Fat Nuggets, giving him fat kisses.

“Bess and Belise said ‘hi’,” Husk said gruffly.

“I thought they were dead to you,” Angel smirked. 

Husk shrugged, “How did everything go?”

Angel let Fat Nuggets rest on his lap as he continued petting him. “I got blacklisted,” Angel said with a small smile as he looked down at his piggy.

Husk made a noise in the back of his throat. “You gonna be okay?”

Angel looked up at him, “You’re looking at the Angel Dust. I’ll have another job in no time.”

Husk chuckled wryly. “Worse comes to worse, you can always bartend.”

Angel laughed, “You’ll recommend me to Al?”

Husk got down on his knees, his hands going to pet Fat Nuggets as well. “You make a mean Manhattan,” he said nonchalantly. 

Angel watched as Husk pet Nugs, his hands paying extra attention to his ears. For a moment, all Angel could do was watch as Husk’s eyes stayed focused on his task. Then, Angel felt Husk’s gaze rise, watching as his eyes met his own. Husk let his hands fall on either side of Angel’s thighs–his palms brushing against his clothing.

“You think so?” Angel asked, his eyes moving from Husk’s to trace his lips. 

“It was the best I’ve ever had,” Husk admitted, not looking away from Angel’s face for a moment. 

Angel wasn’t sure what made his cheeks flush–the compliment or the implication of what Husk said to him. Angel wanted to say something–make a dumb joke or ask him if he was saying what Angel thought he was saying. But nothing came out. Instead, all he could do was sit there, pride welling in his chest. 

“You hear me, kid?” Husk asked after a minute. “Cuz I won’t say it again.”

Angel beamed, “Sayin’ it one more time wouldn’t kill you.”

Husk let his face drop into a scowl. His hands stopped petting Fat Nuggets which made him get all huffy.

Angel laughed, “I was jokin’.” Angel set Fat Nuggets beside them on the bed, “I heard ya, Husky.”

Husk smiled, his hand slowly moving upwards to caress Angel’s face. Once he made contact with his soft fluff, Angel leaned into the touch. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring Husk’s gentle touch juxtaposed to Valentino’s rough one. When Angel opened his eyes, he saw that Husk wasn’t meeting his gaze, instead he was looking lower. 

“Good,” Husk said absentmindedly, his face getting closer. Judging by his pace, it seemed that he was giving Angel enough time to turn his head.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Angel moved his right hand so that they were interlocking fingers on the bed. With his left, he held Husk’s hand in place on his cheek. His bottom set of hands rested on Husk’s shoulders, pulling him closer so Angel could press their foreheads together. 

Husk took that as an invitation, so he quickly closed any remaining distance–

Angel jolted when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He looked at Husk, who released Angel quickly. He leaned forward into Husk and grabbed his phone from behind him. Wanting them to remain close, Angel kept his lower set of hands on Husk’s shoulders. He unlocked his phone and scrolled down so that he could see his notifications. 

There was a message from Agony.

“Holy fuck,” Angel said, mouth agape. 

“What is it?”

“Agony agreed to meet me,” Angel said breathlessly, showing Husk his phone.

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[thunder-rynn]

I am 23 years old, I graduated 5 years ago. The last 5 years of my life were awful. I got my heart broken, was depressed for an entire year, I lost 50 pounds in 2 months, but after that, things started getting better for me. I was ready to go to schoolI was ready to move out with my now former best friend, I was ready to get the hell out of my childhood home. I met some great people and throughout all of last year (2023) and I realized who my real friends were. Because I had gotten into a car accident due to having a seizure on the interstate and caught air (I’m epileptic) and it put me out of work and couldn’t drive for a year, it was awful and depressing. I had just been one year seizure free a week before it happened.

Anyway I didn’t come on here to tell a sob story. I have had so many struggles, as many people do, but I’ve been told again and again that they can tell I’m way happier and doing way better. I am doing way better today. (7.19.2024) I met the love of my life and he motivates me to be the best version of myself. So many people have motivated me to do what I want to do. I want to follow my dad’s footsteps.

I know I’m capable of doing something if I really work towards it. My dad works in refrigeration, which includes he works with physics, chemistry, etc. He’s been doing that for years. Well, he has some educational books that go over exactly what he does, minus the experience. I’ve talked to my dad about it and he said he would pay for my schooling when I’m done reading all of the books. Which there are 3 thick books. I have a notebook to keep track of the important things, which vomit. Nobody likes taking notes 😭 it hurts my wrist but I have to do it.

I’ve been slacking though, I’ve been so down recently and I think it’s because I have high cortisol. So I’m buying supplements for that so I can be better than I am now. I need more motivation and I’m glad I have people by me that tells me to do it. I’ll do it. I have a bad habit of comparing myself to other people my age who have succeeded in getting better and doing what they want to do. I’m gonna stop doing that. I have a lot of potential and I don’t want to spend my life working retail and being miserable. I’ve been told this by many people. I have a plan for myself. I want to be successful. I’m going to read these books and take notes (which sucks ass but I have to do it) by August 24th, and if I don’t do that, I will feel like I failed.

So that’s what I’m going to do. I need to do this, it’s what I want to be and what I want to do. It’s not everyday that you see a female mechanic/technician working hard. My dad told me when I am all done reading, I will know as much as him, minus the experience. I look up to my dad. We weren’t the closest growing up because he works so hard and I admire that. I respect him. I can’t say too much about my mother though, her unhealthy addiction breaks my heart. I can’t say anything more than I already have to get her to quit. She has to quit smoking on her own.

I am ready to fuck shit up, I can’t back away from this, I need to take advantage of it. I like reading anyway. I’m ready to laugh in anyone’s faces that doubted me.

My boyfriend will soon be taking over his dad’s business so his dad can retire. So he’ll be making a lot of money and we both see this relationship go far. I hope it does. We love each other so much. The thought of us getting married, living in a nice house together, watching our kids grow up, working the jobs we like. That’s our dream. We want to live comfortably together and do all the things we did when we were younger and more.

I can do this, I can pull through. You can too, you just need to look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that you can do it. That you can get better, it may seem impossible but I promise you it’s not. We all go through shit.

[shojo-away]

You know what would be the perfect setup for soft core smut and agonizing descriptions of pining?

Felix and Bri’s class have an English assignment on the genre of romance in literature (maybe they’re reading Jane Austin) and Felix cannot for the life of him grasp the significance of romance. (Maybe bc he’s estranged to the concept because he’s never been on the receiving end, or he doesn’t allow himself affection because his guards are up.) Whatever reason it is, boi is touch starved and doesn’t realize it just yet.

Ever the academic, Felix must understand romance to keep his grade good. His first thoughts for help? Bridgette Cheng. The girl exudes every cliche romantic thought. He knows because she showers him in them everyday. So the next time he sees her in the library reading what looks like a romance novel, he goes up to her. He propositions her a deal. She help him understand their assignment, and he gives back [some detail I’m not concerned with yet.]

Bridgette is shocked obviously but she takes the chance to spend time with him. She tries to explain the concept in layman’s term the best she can, but that’s not what Felix needs. To him, romance is simply a reaction the brain has to a potential mate. Something he does not possess.

Bridgette goes with a different approach. Maybe if he understands the thought process behind attraction, lust, and love, he’ll understand. She explains what exactly makes so many fall for the love interests and romantic relationships of Jane Austen books. Including physical attributes. The significance of hands, types of love languages, how attractive attentiveness is. She goes on a minor rave about what makes romance novels hot. She explains the feelings they ignite in readers.

And Felix soaks her words in, because never had he heard her speak so eloquently. It’s eye opening, to know people feel this way, to know she feels this way. His enraptured stated has nothing at all to do with the way her voice gains a rasp or how her eyes glaze over when she explains the feeling of being loved. No, he denies that a thump in his heart has anything to do with her descriptions. And she most definitely did not ignite anything with her words.

They could use a real life example and have things escalate from there. They could keep going with their analyzations of works of romance, including trashy smut. Possibilities are endless. Eventually, Felix becomes very well versed in the concept of love.

Scene I imagine #1

[“Is that something most females are attracted to?”

“It’s defenitly a general consensus among females that arm veins are hot.”

“And why is that.”

“Insert long depraving description of arm veins.” She ends off with a blush.

Felix looks at his own hands. He’s never thought much of the veins that roll up and down his arm, just that they were a normal part of the human body. No one’s ever pointed them out they were attractive to him. He flexed his fingers in and out of a grasp. Is this what Bridgette was talking about? Is this what she…

“Is that how you feel about them?”

He watches her eye flit up and down. ]

CAN’T YOU JUST FEEL THE TENSION

Scene I imagine #2

[“Show me.”

“Show you?”

“Show me exactly what kind of hand holding emphasizes the mood of the scene.”

His hand is stretched out to the middle of the table, waiting for her half way. His palm is open and inviting and Bridgette wants to coil over her stomach full of butterflies because when is she ever going to have this oppurtunity again.

Obviously she doesn’t do that.]

[sweetswesf]

Hello hello hello

Sorry I have been away for so long. Recently, a company that has a pretty good reputation told me that I couldn’t push back my onsite with them anymore. I pushed it back every month since it’s originally scheduled date of 4/20/23. I took it this week, 8/29/23. I did okay. I prepped a lot. I went in a hole. I didn’t even go to the gym in the 4-5 days leading up to the interview. I thought I did okay. I got my 2nd coding round in like 5 minutes. Fastest I’ve ever did it. And did it recursively. I took so many practice interviews in the days leading up to it and felt pretty good. They told me they would give me my results. Added exclamation points in it. I felt like I was gonna get it.

I didn’t.

I received another rejection the same day. It happened today so…a few hours ago. Also, because I felt like I got it, I scheduled another interview with another company. The interviewer didn’t even show up.

My head is pounding. I was kind of relieved I didn’t get it, because I didn’t respect the company. It was my company’s rival, and to be honest, one of the reasons why I’m unemployed. They kinda blew us out the water. I also felt like this just meant that I can focus on the companies I really want to be at and can do so without feeling rushed to make a decision. If I got this one today, I would have had to make a hard decision, potentially one out of desperation. However, I would have loved to get it to use as leverage for another company and confirmation that I can get hired by a top tech company. It’s been nos across the board. I am just confused about, let’s say I get a job at a place I don’t want to work, should I wait for the one I want, or take what’s in front of me and use that to get to the one I want later. I’m hoping I don’t have to. I didn’t want to be unemployed, but it had to happen. I just hope I don’t have to take something I don’t want. I’ll still pray regardless and know he has a plan for me. I just hope I can do that with grace. I’ve cried everyday through my unemployment despite knowing that God has a plan for me. It is hard to remember that he’ll work it out…I’m trying…

The interview wasn’t nearly as hard as what I prepared for. And I didn’t get it. Despite getting to resolutions in each round, the feedback was that I didn’t come to the most optimal solution without some probing despite me coming to the solution through talking it through with them and coding it up.

I’ve lost count of how many rejections but 8+ on-site rejections and another 40+ technical rounds that have ended in rejections.

I did pay off my school loans. $15k & some change. I’ve paid off close to $60k total since graduation 10 years ago. I’ve had the money to pay these off for a while, I had just been holding on to it until I got a job. I still haven’t been approved for medi-cal and REALLY don’t want to go back to pay $700+ for health care insurance I’m not even really using. I also went and got my check ups and hair trimmed. I couldn’t put it off anymore. I don’t know when I’m going to get hired. Positive thing: my health is better than it was a year ago and I learned some new things about my hair and the products. I prefer my hair feel and look on the other products though, so I need to figure out something that is a happy medium between the 2. I don’t know if it’s the products or my stress but my skin is BUGGGINNGGG. Despite all this adding a bit of pressure on me, I just believed that God would bless it. I feel so spent, that I was just like, whatever. I even reached out and made peace with my little brother, aunt, family members, and friends that have deserted me during this time. I didn’t tell them what I really wanted to say. I just don’t want anything blocking my blessings and God said do it.

I’m so tired y’all…I LOOK CRAZY. My eyes have bags. But I still get compliments. I appreciate them. I want to tell those people, you have no clue the battles I’m fighting. Every new person I’ve met this year, in some way or another I’ve had to tell them about my situation. I’m getting stronger. I’m toning up. I’m grateful. But my eyes. I just feel very sad so often. I try to remember to have joy as much as possible though.

What sucks is that I keep getting referrals, keep getting opportunities, keep getting reached out to by companies I want to be at…and then I get rejected or they just go radio silent.

The good thing is I haven’t blown it yet with the companies I ACTUALLY want to be at. I feel like God is prepping me for them. I don’t think God is asking me to pursue other fields, but I also don’t know where He is taking me. I have to continue leaning on faith, praying, and waiting. This is truly the hardest time I’ve ever endured. Harder than COVID. Harder than those months of feeling alone on a project in a record cold winter in Buffalo. Your prayers are appreciated. I know my top choice is on the way. I know He’s making a way for me despite everything I’ve been through.

[usedtobemygirl]

after talking it through in therapy i am actually very annoyed that i wait the whole week to see my man (who’s not actually my man yet) for him to be like ‘im going to the pub tonight’ instead of inviting me over … and the fact he still hasn’t even invited me out on a date…

[1kook]

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.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[honey-milk-depresso]

please please please can we get a Yae Miko reader with the Diasomnia boys? I think the fact a kitsune has a really long lifespan would be a good match for them </3

Just a reminder, I'm opening requests! More info can be found here. I decided to announce that through this so people know ;-;;;;;

I'm not quite sure about Silver though, but I'll use Yae's personality and you can imagine if s/o's a kitsune! ^^

An enigmatic individual, you shroud yourself in a mysterious demeanour, your kind smile seems to make people wonder what your intentions truly are.

While some people are sceptical, you're kindness makes all that doubt melt away, helping your peers and dutiful in your work and theirs.

You're one to enjoy a good book, and you love stories of all kinds.

TWST The benevolent yet enigmatic, book loving s/o (Yae Miko)

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is intrigued by how you present yourself.

Your gentle smile is somehow so... strange. Not to say he sees you as two faced or something, but he feels you hide things from others. He's never spoken about this out loud, but the fae thinks you know he knows.

Nonetheless, he still enjoys you're presence.

A story to share everyday, while you walk around campus with him in the middle of the night. Malleus shares the stories of his own, as he smiles when you ask him more about it, clearly interested in his stories.

He's never talked to anyone besides Lilia, Silver and Sebek, who are considered his family. You were the first person to ever talk to him informally like you were his... friend.

And he smiles softly at the thought. A friend. How nice.

Malleus may find your enigmatic self a little weird, but he gets pass all of it when it comes to you talking about your day, a book you've read, and you share it with him.

In your eyes he can see,

this is your kindness reaching out to him. He won't ever trade it for the world. <3

Lilia Vanrouge

He's amused by how you've shrouded yourself in mystery it seems. All with a lighthearted smile~

Lilia has his fair shares of being known as such throughout the school, and the fae knows this himself. How cheeky.

Lilia is a man filled with stories from his past, from books, stories he shared to Malleus and Silver when they were children, his own knowledge gained from experience. He leaves you guessing how his stories flow, playfully smiling when you pouted upon hearing he'll "stop there".

Much like you, Lilia enjoys listening to the stories you share as well! He could listen to you all day long, all night long. He appreciates that you share stories with Malleus, Silver and Sebek, too. And that you help them and of course, everyone else in NRC to the fullest of your potential. Your kindness has even made Sebek and Malleus smile, something he's overjoyed to see.

You meet Lilia again with a new book in hand, moments like these he is bound to treasure with his heart.

"Well, what's the new lucky book you wish to share with me?~" <3

Silver

Silver never really paid attention, but one glance could make him wonder who you truly are.

Your smile never screamed sinister anywhere, but he feels... that you can be weird sometimes. Something about you is mystifying, but he doesn't ponder too much since that's also kind of Lilia-

Silver is more of a listener than a speaker; he feels as if he doesn't have that many interesting stories to share, preferring to listen to you ramble on and on of the many stories you share with him.

Sometimes when he listens, he lays his head on your thighs as you kneel, he slowly closes his eyes with each stories you share. Not because he grows bored of them, but because he wants to dream about it, as you gently stroke his hair and wish him sweet dreams.

Your kindness of helping Silver catch up with schoolwork, making Sebek somewhat get along with him more, and generally taking care of him makes him feel really happy.

He wonders if you ever grow bored of him, since he feels like he's got nothing interesting. You told him with that signature smile of yours. "Your day experience is always something I look forward to hear." <3

Sebek Vigvolt

It's funny, really.

You're relatively a calm person, and Sebek is, well, Sebek. Really loud and uptight. The type of energy you two resonate is a nice, perfect blend of couple energy. What is contrast with each other, can somehow make the picture look aesthetic, and that's what you two make.

Truthfully, Sebek has found you peculiar and sceptical of course. He puts his guard up in front of you, thinking you're someone trying to do something bad to Malleus.

You smile at him, greeting him politely and sharing about your day and a book you've read which leave the boy baffled. He's.... confused..? But also quite curious about the books you've read without realising it, before reality slaps him across the face and he scolds himself for getting distracted.

But as time goes on, he finds himself peering over your shoulder looking at your book as you share to him about it. Sebek hates to admit it, but he finds your stories so interesting, and he instantly melts when you offer him kindness. Not just to him, but for Malleus and Lilia as well.

"I can trust you, BUT DON'T THINK I WOULD PUT MY GUARD DOWN S/O!!" You giggled. "Of course, of course! I expected much of your diligent self!" Your smile made him blush in embarrassment, oblivious to the watchful eyes of the ruby eyed and emerald eyed faes.

"Ah, young love~" <3

[diamond-coral]

Play by the Rules

Steve x Reader, Tony x Reader, Implied Steve x Reader x Tony

Summary: Working for the powerful CEO, Tony Stark, was a nightmare. Especially when you have to deal with his new, and equally as powerful, partner; the CEO of S.H.I.E.L.D. Inc., Steve Rogers. You have a plan to leave it all behind, but Tony has his own plans for you.

This is my first writing for @ darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @ harper-emory-writes Dark Bingo challenge: crossing off the squares Blackmail and CEO AU. I’m nowhere near a bingo but I’m super excited that I’ve started !!

Warnings: 18+ only! NON-CON/DUB-CON(ORAL (M RECEIVING), INTERCOURSE, MENTION OF ANAL), BLACKMAIL, VOYEURISM, sexism in the workplace, swearing.

 “We’ll review the new contract with S.H.I.E.L.D. today during the meeting. I’ll need two printed copies of it as well as a printed copy of our current one with Asgard Corp.” Tony snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

You look up from your notepad. “Of course, Mr. Stark. Just taking notes.”

Tony scoffs. “Wasn’t half the reason I hired you your ability to retain information without wasting time by writing things down?Since when did you start taking notes?”

Since I became willing to do anything to not have to look at you and remember that you were balls deep in me just last week.

“I’d just like everything to go smoothly for this meeting. I understand it’s a big deal for the company and for you, sir.”

Tony studies your face. “Well in the spirit of dedication, I’ll need you to stay a couple hours extra.”

You try to avoid scrunching up your features at that. Although you had been looking forward to curling up on your couch when you got home, you would never dare counter your employer, so you just nod.

“Rogers will be here in an hour,” he continues. “I’m expecting you to greet him, so I’ll have an intern go out and get you an outfit.” 

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark, I believe the attire I’m currently wearing is satisfactory, is it not?”

Tony eyes your black blazer and pants paired with flats. “It’s not,” he states as he gets up from his chair across from you at your desk and fixes his tie. After pausing to consider your confused look, he elaborates. “You gotta show some more skin, sweetheart. It’s the only way a woman like you will be able to make it out here.”

Your mouth falls open as he turns and leaves you to process his offensive comment.

“Bastard,” you mumble.

You could run Stark Industries in your sleep. In fact, Tony had already appointed you head of three separate divisions as well as let you bring a few of your own original projects and ideas to life in the years you had been here. You saw your own potential and Tony had been generous enough to help you expand and experiment with it. A couple more years and you could leave Stark Industries behind to start your own company with the connections you’d already made.

Which is why you remained compliant with Tony’s every demand. No matter how much it hurt your pride (especially when a drunk hookup with him practically destroyed your pride), nothing would compare to the sweet victory of running Tony’s company into the dirt when you started your own. You did your own projections. Tony wasn’t short of enemies, and with their help and your own skill set, you’d make double the profits Tony did in half the time.

So you put up with the touches, grabs, and comments from Tony. He had such a large company to run that he barely noticed that the three divisions he absentmindedly handed to you were the most successful. You’d giggle and bat your eyelashes as long as Tony didn’t notice you practically undermining his company.

Play by the rules,

But be ferocious.

_________________________

Twenty minutes later you’re interrupted from your pile of paperwork by a soft knock.

“Come in!” you call out.

A boy with short brown hair lets himself in. You’d seen him around as Tony’s shadow.  

‘What was his name again? Patrick? Pietro? Pierre?’

“Oh, Peter! How can I help you”

“Hey, Ms. L/n, Tony asked me to bring this up to you.”

Peter holds up the clear dry-cleaning bag, and it takes all your effort not to grimace at the short black pencil skirt inside. Instead, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“You can just leave it on that chair, thank you,” you say.

As Peter leaves you get up to inspect the clothing Tony so graciously provided for you, and you notice a note attached.

leave a couple buttons undone ;)  -TS

Scoffing, you throw the note in the trash as you pick up the clothes and lock your door.

You’d begrudgingly play a little eye candy knowing you’d get your revenge in a couple years.

But how much could this escalate in a couple of years? 

“Stop it,” you mutter to yourself while pulling on the black blazer.

Once you're finished changing, you receive an alert that Steve Rogers had checked into the building. 15 minutes early.

You hadn’t even met the fucker and you already hated him.

________________________________

“Mr. Rogers!” you greet the blonde in a painfully cheery voice. “You’re early!”

“Well, this is an important meeting, sweetheart,” he replies, and you cringe at the pet name, handing him a clipboard and pen.

“This is just a quick confidentiality contract, Mr. Stark would like you to sign,” you inform. “Basically just saying you agree not to share any contents of the meeting or contract to any outside parties until you and Mr Stark have solidified and confirmed all aspects of your partnership.”

“Ah so Stark is already confident he’ll get a partnership with my company?” Steve muses and scribbles his signature. He looks up, handing the clipboard and pen back to you, and you motion for him to follow you down the hall.

“So what’s your role here exactly?” Steve asks, following behind you. “Are you an intern, receptionist...maybe a call-girl?”

You don’t bother turning at his teasing remark, instead answering calmly. “I run the three most successful divisions here, Mr. Rogers.”

“Impressive,” he remarks, but it sounds more of a mock from him. “And Stark still keeps you as an assistant.”

Your brows furrow at that comment. “How do you know I’m an assistant? And why would you ask what I did here if you already knew?”

“Women like you are just so fun to rile up. Stark and I had a meeting earlier in the month, and he talked of you very fondly.”

Well that didn’t sit right with you. You coordinated all of Tony’s meetings and practically created his everyday work schedule. “Mr. Stark didn’t mention meeting you already.”

“We decided to go over all possibilities of this transaction. It wasn’t much.” Steve brushes your comment off as he enters the elevator with you.

The doors close and you feel trapped. Through the short conversation you’ve had with this man, you can already tell how calculating he is. Every word, every movement, has been intricately steered by him for his benefit. And you couldn’t even begin to explain how belittled his stature made you feel; sheer power barely contained by an expensive three piece suit. The dark blue made his blue eyes more piercing in comparison. Everything about him radiated dominance. And for a woman like you who was practically clawing her way up the corporate ladder, that was a problem.

“You coming?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He stood by the open elevator doors, arm gesturing out for you to lead. “Time is money.”

“Well then you have plenty of it, don’t rush me,” you snap.

“Feisty,” he muses, lips turning upwards.

Steve follows behind you, and you can feel his gaze burning on your ass. You’re more than grateful when you reach Tony’s door, having to refrain from frantically knocking, trying to escape the stare of the man behind you.

“Enter,” a voice calls from behind the doors.

You push open the large door and stand to the side, allowing Steve to enter the room before you.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve greets, crossing the room to give Tony a firm handshake.

“Rogers.”

The men begin to talk business and you take that as your cue to leave, turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, have a seat,” Tony calls out to you. You glance back at him and beckons you over with two fingers.

“Um, Mr. Stark, there are no other chairs,” you stammer.

“Don’t worry, doll, I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer a lady a place to sit,” Steve declares. You expect him to get up, but he just spreads his legs a little wider and gestures to his lap.

Eyes flitting to Tony in panic, your employer just nods and gives you look of warning as if saying ‘don’t mess this up’.

You let out a breath and hesitantly make your way to Steve.

‘How much could this escalate?’

The words from earlier rang in your head, but you brush them away and tentatively place yourself on one of his muscular thighs, angling yourself inward. You can’t hide how your face twists into a look of disdain as Steve’s arm snakes around, pulling you further up his leg so you’re back right up against his torso.

“Mr. Rogers I-” Your voice is nothing but a squeak before Tony interrupts you.

“As I was saying,” Tony interjected. “Your profits will grow exponentially if you add Stark Tech to your security services. Which is why I get 60%. I’m already doing you a favor by growing your profits.”

“I want 50/50. Stark Industries will gain consumers from S.H.I.E.L.D. We both get more buyers from the partnership, so I say it should be an even split.”

“Well we both know you’re not just getting the consumers, Rogers,” Tony spat. 

That has your attention fully invested in the conversation. What could Rogers possibly get from the company that Tony would be so mad about parting from? You look down at the contract on the desk in front of you and your heart stops cold.

“Mr. Stark, why is my name on this contract?” It was there. Under ‘assets acquired’, it was the last thing, as if added as a last moment bargain.

Tony just ignores you. “Steve, you’re taking the head of Stark-Touch Smartphones, my most profitable branch, you can’t just expect things to run as efficiently when she’s gone.”

“I’m taking her twice a week, I highly doubt that’ll make much of a dent in your operations,” Steve scoffs, and you tense up. “How about this. I get her for two weeks- straight- a month, and I’ll split it 45-55.”

“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Your voice quivers.

“Your boss here just agreed to sell you to me, as my...assistant,” he explains, hot breath fanning your ear. His free hand that’s not on your waist moves to grip your bare thigh up your skirt. “Two weeks a month, for every month, for as long as you work for him.”

“No!” you suddenly shout, wrenching your body from his grip to stand up. “I will take the comments, I will take the stares and the touches, but I will not be whored out like this. Mr. Stark, I quit.”

Stark just tsks and rises from his chair to stand in front of you. While shorter than Steve, it still feels like he towers over you with the demeanor he holds. “That’s just it, y/n...you see, you’re not gonna be quitting to start that new company of yours.”

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head as he mentions your future plans.

“Yeah, I know, you’re not as good at hiding as you thought. At least from Peter that is. Kid’s a whiz at the computer. Had him plant a bug on your home laptop and do a little sweep of your personal account. And I gotta hand it to you, the numbers you ran? Almost perfect. Every single projection and hypothesis you had would’ve gone through. You factored in almost everything. Almost. But you forgot one thing, sweetheart.” Tony’s hand flies up to grip your jaw and uses the momentum to throw you into the wall a few feet behind you. He’s back on you in an instant, seething, as the grip on your chin is bruising. “You forgot me, bitch. You forgot what would happen if you cross Tony fucking Stark. I’m the most powerful man in America. I can ruin your life with a snap of my fingers.”  Just as quickly as he was on you, Tony’s anger switches to calm, and in the blink of an eye, he’s off of you, casually smoothing his suit down. “Well more of a push of a button.”

Smirking, Tony reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone while you remain frozen in fear, glancing at Steve who just looks amused at the show in front of him. At the sound of Tony coughing to get your attention, you look back in front of you at the phone he’s now holding out. Black and white security footage is displayed on the screen, and the moment Tony presses play, you know what it is.

Your voice rings through the speaker, the moans, expletives, and begging coming out of your throat are clear as day as Tony fucks you over your desk.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Please, please, let me cum!”

Your eyes water. “Stop it,” you murmur, but the video keeps playing. “I said stop it! Please!”

Tony chuckles. “So now you understand what’s at stake here? One push of a button, one phone call to Peter, and this video will be up all over Time Square. Forget starting a company, you’ll be blackballed all over America from even being a receptionist.”

You’re defeated, your entire future crumbling before your eyes.

 “What do you want from me.”

“Well I think leaving me or the company is now obviously out of the picture, so for now, I want you to give Steve here a little trial of what he just bought from me.”

“Please...please no,” you croak, but Tony just holds up his phone and raises an eyebrow.

As you start to make your way toward the other man, Tony grabs your jaw once more. “Don’t half-ass it,” he grows in your ear before shoving you to Steve.

Eyes lowered, you stand in front of Steve and shrug your blazer off. “What would you like me to do...sir?”

“Suck me off.”

You’re barely able to breathe, sinking down to your nears, as tears begin to flow freely from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry doll,” Steve murmurs under his breath.

There is no dignity left in you as you unbuckle his belt and open his fly. The soft zip is deafening to your ears, and you reach in and pull out his hardening cock.

Shit. He wasn’t even fully hard and he was big. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t send a pang down to your core.

Giving him a few shy strokes, you then place your mouth over him, hollowing your cheeks as you lightly suckle at the tip. You pull back and take a deep breath. 

‘Don’t half-ass it’

You dive back in with renewed vigor, taking as much of him as you can and running your tongue across the underside of him. He’s hot and heavy in your mouth, and you find yourself pretending you were somewhere else with someone else, enjoying it. You let out a moan at his taste and Steve responds with his own groan, hand caressing your hair as you slightly speed up. His hand winds itself into your hair, and he begins thrusting his hips up into your mouth, extracting a whimper from you. Each buck of his hips turns harsher as his hand pushes down on your head to force his entire length down your throat, and at this point, you’re drooling onto his expensive slacks. He’s about to cum and you feel it; his thrusts becoming erratic and his entire body tensing, but before you can speed up and get this nightmare over with, he wrenches you off his dick and pulls you into a heated kiss, hands coming up to grope you all over.

You let out a startled squeal as both hands grasp your blouse and rip it down the middle, buttons flying everywhere, before he proceeds to do the same to the black lacy bra you're wearing.

“Ride me,” he commands.

All shame has left you at this point as you proceed to straddle him, your skirt now bunched up at your waist, and sink down on his length. The mewl that comes out of you is from how his girth is stretching you, and after what seems like eternity, you’re bottomed out and unable to move.

“Move,” he orders.

“I can’t,” you whine. “It-it’s too much.”

“Move.”

You let out another whimper as you slowly raise yourself a couple inches and sink back down, feeling every single vein on his cock brush against your walls. A few more attempts later, Steve grows impatient. A low growl is torn from his lips while he grabs your hips tight and slams you back down on his impossibly hard length.

You can barely hear the string of strangled screams and moans as he brutally thrusts into you, moving your body up and down and using you for his own pleasure. Every punishing plunge into your cunt punches the air from your lungs, and Steve’s groans are animalistic.

You glance over to the side to see Tony fisting his own dick, and the only thing that tears you away from staring at him is a particularly hard thrust from the man in the chair below you.

“Fuck, doll, your gripping me so tight,” Steve grunts.

The sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your now wet pussy is so overwhelming you don’t even register another set of hands on your waist.

“Bend her over more, Rogers. I wanna fuck her ass.”

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: as someone who’s been tormented for being a nerd, you’ve never viewed your friendly teasing towards your best friend seonghwa as bullying. but that is until he completely changes his style and image in school, confronting you about your past behaviour, so you have no choice but to admit the real reason why you’ve been making fun of him...

pairing: popular boy!seonghwa x nerd!reader

genre: high school!AU (the characters are 18 for the spicy parts huehehe), best friends to fake dating to lovers, angst, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: friendly teasing, clichéd/unrealistic portrayal of high school dynamics, hwa does kabedon on yn like once, seonghwa’s a bit of a tsundere, fake dating, hints of possessiveness, slightly problematic remarks, yn is briefly hwa’s slave?! (no, i will not elaborate), bullying, mean girls, insults, hair-pulling, kicking, death threats, some swearing, self-blame, power play, overuse of pet names (princess, baby, little girl, etc.), sir kink (i won’t apologize lol), begging, yunho being nosy (yes, that’s a warning), mention of hypothetical collars, insecurities, making out, loss of virginities, lots of kissing, soft dom!hwa, eating out, fingering, blowjob, consensual protected sex, dirty talk, praising, aftercare, crying, hurt&comfort, a lot of dorky references (cuz that’s me, after all), jumping off a balcony (don’t try this at home!), happy ending

author’s note: will i ever stop bullying poor hwa’s kermit hoodie? no. jk, i lov him so much, he’s so talented & gorgeous no matter what he wears ;-;

disclaimer: all jokes aside, i do not in any way condone bullying and this work is entirely fictional for entertainment purposes! i’ve been physically and emotionally tormented in school and though i have not talked much about it, i do not wish such an experience to anyone! treating people with kindness is cool and i hope everyone spreads more love! ❤️

word count: 9.4k

Having been best friends with Seonghwa for four years now (ever since your first year in high school), you couldn’t help but making fun of every little adorable thing he did. And honestly, you admired his patience when it came to putting up with your incessant teasing. Diligently cleaning up everything after him? You’d call him a neat freak. Not being able to drink coffee? You’d call him a teacup loser. 

So, when he started wearing that green hoodie of his to school, you couldn’t resist the temptation to call him Kermit the frog. And at first, it all started as a joke. But then the nickname kinda stuck and you just kept addressing him as Kermit, even if he wasn’t wearing the delectable green hoodie. And at one point, you could tell that poor Seonghwa was not a huge fan of the whole thing. But he never called you out on it or told you to stop. He never teased you back for being a hopeless nerd who studied 24/7 and read books for fun. So, you kept going.

Until the summer before your last year in high school arrived. Sadly, Seonghwa was going to be out of the country for the whole vacation. You were going to miss him terribly, you realized. You had become so used to seeing him everyday that you couldn’t imagine how you’d last three months without being able to see his pretty face all the time. You’d occasionally text him memes and ask him what he was up to. But as the summer was coming to an end, his replies became less and less frequent, more and more concise. You kept wondering if you’d done something wrong. It couldn’t be the Kermit thing, you began telling yourself. After all, it was normal to tease your best friend every once in a while. Right?

When the first day of your last year in high school came, you were nervously anticipating the moment when you’d see Seonghwa again. Summer without him had been so boring and you couldn’t wait to hug him again and find a new thing to joke about.

The second you saw him, you instinctively knew there would be no more joking around. Seonghwa practically walked into the school hallway like he owned the place. He’d completely changed his style and overall image. Gone were the dorky hoodies you secretly loved so much. Instead, they were replaced by a black leather jacket. Gone were the casual sweatpants he looked so good in. In their place were dark jeans that made him look kinda dangerous. And the whole confidence with which he carried himself was just totally different. 

If you had known that a summer abroad could change a person so much, you would have tried harder at convincing him to stay in the country. On top of it all, he was now hanging out with a bunch of popular a-holes that you had never talked to before. Honestly, you couldn’t even gather the courage to approach your best friend. He looked so distant and unfamiliar that you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Especially when you heard him laughing at the cool kids’ jokes. That should have been you...

You remembered when you were the one making him giggle, as if it was a century ago, when in reality it was just a couple of months. You kept sighing during the whole day, not daring to even talk to him. If he wanted to still hang out with you after his sudden “change in status”, he would, you kept convincing yourself. But he didn’t. In fact, he ignored you the whole day, making you feel like shit.

Just as you were leaving the school building in a hurry, mentally prepared for an evening of crying your eyes out and eating ice cream, you felt a hand grabbing you tightly. Turning around, you were surprised to find Seonghwa’s eyes staring back at you.

“Hi, princess,” he greeted you calmly.

“H-hi, S-seonghwa,” you responded dumbly.

“What? No witty comeback?” Seonghwa scoffed, smirking.

“What are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you gonna bully me and call me names again? Kermit? Teacup loser? Neat freak? What’s it gonna be this time?” he spat out, pushing you against the school wall and extending his arms to touch the cold bricks so that you would feel trapped.

“Bully you?” you whispered in disbelief. “H-hwa, I wasn’t...I didn’t m-mean...”

“Oh, yeah?” he mocked your stuttering self. “Then, why did you say all these things, huh?”

“You know why,” you replied.

“No, I don’t. So, tell me right now or I swear, I can make your existence a living hell,” Seonghwa threatened.

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you cried out. “I like you so that’s why I’ve been teasing you. Because if I didn’t, I would have to admit how attractive I find all your habits. How adorable it is when you used to tidy your desk and how sexy you looked in that damned green hoodie. There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

You were so frustrated with the way he ignored you all day only to accuse you of bullying him that you ducked your head swiftly beneath his arm, simultaneously bending your knees, and, thus, successfully escaping from Seonghwa’s ambush.

“Y/N, wait!” he called after you, but you were running too fast and luck was on your side, as the bus arrived at that exact same moment, allowing you to get on it, before he could.

You couldn’t sleep much that night, tormented by the fact Seonghwa had confused your friendly jokes with bullying and how foolishly you’d confessed your feelings for him. You were certain that your affections were unrequited and now that he had this whole new position in the school hierarchy, he would undoubtedly make fun of you for them. You were even considering transferring to another school to avoid the potential embarrassment.

In the morning, no sooner had you finished breakfast in the comfort of your room than you heard loud honks. They were unlike the ones in your dad’s car so you couldn’t help but wonder what jerk had decided to park in front of your house and make your day even worse.

“Sweetie,” your mom informed you a bit after. “Your friend Seonghwa is here. He said he’ll drive you to school today. As promised.”

“He did?” you mumbled in confusion. But maybe because you weren’t ready to talk to your mom yet about what happened yesterday, you lied. “Ah, that’s right, I almost forgot.”

Hurriedly, you grabbed your bag and practically sprinted downstairs. You were curious to see what he wanted. And that’s exactly what you asked the minute you entered his car.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aw, no good morning for me, princess?” Seonghwa pouted and God, you hated how cute you found him after the way he’d treated you the previous day. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he rolled his eyes, starting the engine. “I’m driving you to school.”

“I can see that. But why?” you hissed.

“Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he groaned. “If you’re so insistent on finding out, I’ll tell you. Ever since you told me how you felt yesterday, I’ve been thinking...And I’ve come to the conclusion that you have two options. Option number one is to enjoy your hellish last year of high school. You’ve had your fair share of teasing me so I’m definitely going to enjoy telling everyone about your little crush on me. It’s going to be so much fun to embarrass you in front of the whole school.”

What the fuck was wrong with him? Seonghwa was supposed to be your best friend! Why was he suddenly acting like you were worth less than a dirty rug? Was it possible that he had changed so much in the span of three months? Or was he always like that? Had you been blinded by his good looks? No, that definitely wasn’t the case. Seonghwa was the sweetest guy you’d ever known. How did he get so...cold? Cold enough to chill your bones.

“And what’s option number two?” you grunted, already anticipating the worst.

“So, there’s this annoying girl in our class I want to avoid at all costs. Just because her parents are doing business with mine does not mean I’m into her. Option number two is for us to pretend we’re dating in school. Considering how much you like me, I’m assuming it won’t be very difficult for you to pretend. If you agree, that is.”

What a jerk...You shared your sincere feelings with your best friend and that’s the first thing that crossed his mind? To use you in order to avoid some random girl? If it was any other guy, you would have said no. If you weren’t desperate for even a fraction of Seonghwa’s time and attention, you would have said no. If you weren’t so pathetically whipped for him, you would have said no.

“I’ll do it,” you said. “For how long do you need me to be your fake girlfriend?”

“Just until graduation. Then, we’ll fake break up and each go our separate ways. How does that sound?”

It sounded terrible! You wanted Seonghwa to be a part of your life forever. But with the way he was treating you, you weren’t confident he felt the same way anymore.

“Sounds great,” you lied, because you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing your thoughts. You’d never be perceived as weak again.

The second you walked into school, Seonghwa’s arm wrapped possessively around your shoulder, everyone’s eyes were on you. It was like high-schoolers had no better thing to occupy their time with but to gossip around the latest dating news. If you weren’t enjoying his company so much, you would have found their reactions pathetic. And somewhat unnerving.

“When did you two lovebirds start seeing each other?” one of Seonghwa’s popular friends Yunho asked.

“Oh, you know what they say. A girl and a guy can’t stay just friends for long,” Seonghwa responded.

You internally rolled your eyes. Your best friend before the summer would have never said such a thing. Whatever the reason for his current behaviour was, you would get to the bottom of it. And right now, you felt like going along with this whole fake dating thing was your best chance at unraveling the mystery.

For the first day of your little arrangement, everything seemed to be going fine. Everyone was staring at you two but you didn’t mind. All you cared about was him. However, soon enough Seonghwa started asking you for weird things.

“Carry my bag for me.” / “Get me a drink from the vending machine, will you?” / “Bring me a snack from the supermarket across the street.” / “Oh, and for my friends, too, doll.”

Seriously, it was getting infuriating. You no longer felt like you were his bestie. You didn’t even feel like you were his fake girlfriend. At this point, you had practically become his slave! Running any errand and carrying his stuff for him. But what was the alternative? If you refused to play your part in this pretend dating scheme, he could easily turn against you and make fun of you in front of the whole school. So, you kept your mouth shut and swallowed your pride.

One evening, around a month after the fake dating agreement had started, you had stayed in the library a bit longer to prepare for an upcoming assignment. By the time you were out of the school building, you supposed that Seonghwa had already gone home. Frankly, the only nice thing he was intent on doing for you was driving you to school and back to your place most of the days.

As you were making your way towards the bus stop, you had the strangest suspicion you were being followed. Not daring to turn around, you started walking faster. But unfortunately, your attackers also sped up and soon enough, you were surrounded by a group of angry faces. Their leader was obviously Eunhee, the most popular girl in the whole school. And coincidentally, this was also the girl whose parents were doing business with Seonghwa’s parents. The very reason you were fake dating your best friend in the first place.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bookshrimp,” she mocked you, sticking a sharp nail into your chest. You didn’t bother correcting her that the right term was bookworm. You were already in enough trouble as it was. For some reason, teasing Seonghwa had been easy because you meant well and you were sure he wouldn’t hurt you. Not really. Because he knew how badly you’d been bullied in middle school. But now that you were met with so many threatening figures, you froze rightaway, unable to defend yourself.

“Just l-leave me alone,” you stammered.

“Aw, aren’t you a little pathetic shrimpie?” Eunhee cooed and started pulling your hair harshly and kicking you onto the ground. The other girls were holding you down so that you wouldn’t fight back. “Did you seriously believe you can steal Seonghwa from me? We’re meant to be together and if you stand in our way, I will fucking kill you!”

“S-stop, you’re hurting me!” you exclaimed sorrowfully. You tried your best to shield yourself and push her away but her loyal minions were preventing you from doing so. Just as Eunhee was about to slap you across the face, you witnessed as her threatening hand was stopped mid-air by the interloper whose features you couldn’t quite discern in the dark. But whose voice you would recognize anywhere.

“You think you’re so brave?” Seonghwa yelled at Eunhee and her friends. “Ganging up on her like that? Six against one? You’re the pathetic ones.”

“Hwa, we were just trying to teach her a lesson. She should learn her place, after all,” Eunhee tried to explain.

“A lesson?” he scoffed. “You dumbasses can’t even pass Calculus and you want to teach the smartest girl in our school a lesson?” your heart melted with warmth at how highly he thought of you. “Oh, that’s rich.”

“You won’t tell my dad, right?” Eunhee was suddenly on the defensive. She’d probably be in big trouble if he found out how his precious daughter was behaving in school.

“Get out of my sight right now or I’ll tell the whole country,” Seonghwa threatened through gritted teeth. (Later on, he actually did tell her dad about the incident and Eunhee, along with her followers, were suspended from school for two weeks. Oh, and their rich parents cut off their money, which was pretty impressive an accomplishment). And so, the vicious girls scattered like roaches in daylight. Pulling you onto your feet, Seonghwa grabbed your hand and started walking towards his car which you somehow hadn’t noticed parked nearby. Getting inside, he started the engine immediately but his hands were clutching the steering wheel so hard you were feeling a bit scared. You had never seen your best friend so angry. Well, maybe the only other time that came close was when you were telling him about your past experiences with bullying...

“Are you mad at me?” you asked sheepishly.

“At you?” he chuckled harshly. “Why would I be mad at you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t know...”

“Why didn’t you fight them back?” Seonghwa inquired.

“I tried, but I was reminded of middle school and just...froze. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’m not blaming you,” he replied calmly. “I was just wondering. Cause I know you’ve been going to self-defense classes. And I thought you were making progress. I mean, the last time I came to watch, you were pretty good.”

That was before the summer. Of course it was. Still, you were touched by the fact that he remembered. Despite acting like he didn’t care, you instinctively knew he did.

“I mean, I was,” you said. “But I panicked.”

Seonghwa let go of the wheel with one hand and placed it on your bare knee, rubbing calming circles around it. You two were alone so you were certain this was no longer the fake dating thing. This was just your best friend being there for you when you needed him the most.

“If anyone tries that shit again, just tell them you’re my girlfriend, alright? They have to be idiots to mess with you,” he spoke angrily.

“Fake girlfriend,” you reminded him sadly.

“That’s none of their business,” he replied, but didn’t correct you. Oh, how badly you wished to be his real girlfriend. To show him how much you cared for him.

“Why did you change so much over the summer?” you suddenly asked, while Seonghwa was driving you home.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Seonghwa responded harshly. “You don’t like my green hoodie and you also don’t like my leather jacket? There’s really no satisfying you, is there?”

“I didn’t mean your clothes,” you mumbled. “Just...your overall attitude towards me. Before the summer you used to let me squeeze your cheeks and sit in your lap and now you seem so...unapproachable. I’m just saying, we were closer when I was your best friend than we are now that I’m your fake girlfriend.”

Seonghwa stopped the car abruptly, making you blink in shock.

“I changed because I was sick of you treating me like a little boy and I wanted you to start seeing me as a man,” he admitted but without looking into your eyes.

“W-what are you saying?” you swallowed nervously.

“Nevermind.”

“No, you have to talk to me, Hwa!” you insisted desperately. “If you still consider me your best friend, be honest with me. Please.”

“This,” he gestured vaguely at you as he finally met your gaze. “This is exactly why I changed so much, Y/N. I don’t want to be your best friend anymore.”

His cruel words hurt you more than anything you’d ever experienced in your life. More than all the bullying, the slapping and getting pushed against a wall. Losing your best friend was your worst fear. But you had promised yourself to never be weak again. So the second he said that, you pulled the handle of the side door, attempting to get out of his car. Before you could do that, Seonghwa grabbed your hand, effectively keeping you in place.

“I want to be your boyfriend. For real this time,” he elaborated.

You stared at him in utter confusion.

“But...when I confessed, you acted like you didn’t care. Like I meant nothing to you.”

“Forget how I acted. I only offered the fake dating shit because I wanted to get closer to you again. Make up for the lost time during the summer. Do you honestly think I give a fuck about what Eunhee thinks or says about me? I just used that as an excuse. I’ve told her I’m not into her hundreds of times. And yes, maybe I have changed. Not because I don’t care about you. But because I do. You used to gush about Count Dracula and Darth Vader so much that I thought if I became the bad guy, you’d finally notice me. I wanted so terribly to impress you and make you stop seeing me as your adorable best friend that I got too lost in the feeling of holding power over you...Too lost to notice you liked me all along, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you whispered teary-eyed. “I do,” correcting yourself. “H-hwa, I’m so sorry to break it to you but-”

“If you reject me, I won’t be responsible for attempted murder,” Seonghwa interrupted you jokingly.

“I’m so sorry to break it to you,” you repeated with a sly smirk. “But no matter how hard you try to change, I will always see you as my adorable best friend. And though I have to admit I did stop teasing you temporarily, that was only because you suddenly started behaving like the dangerously sexy king of the high school. Can you blame me for feeling a little intimidated? I know I’ve said this before but I didn’t think me teasingly calling you Kermit would go this far. I never meant to hurt you, Hwa.”

“I know you didn’t, princess,” Seonghwa whispered, gently stroking your cheeks.

“And yes,” you smiled shyly, leaning into his touch.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want to be your real girlfriend. It would be a dream come true.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, as if the very idea seemed amusing to him. “How badly do you want it?”

“So badly, I would do anything for you, sir,” you uttered the last word without thinking much, your brain somehow recalling a time when you two had discussed how you’d enjoy being called by a potential significant other. In retrospect, that wasn’t really a thing best friends generally talked about.

“Sir?” Seonghwa grinned, leaning his head against your forehead. “Keep that up and your real girlfriend status will be confirmed.”

“I want to kiss you so much,” you were on the verge of begging. Oh, screw it. “Please, please, let me kiss you.”

He didn’t respond, just connected your lips with his own softly, taking his time with you. It was pure magic. You had thought about kissing your best friend thousands of times. But nothing compared to the reality. Parting your lips further to let his tongue in, you physically couldn’t prevent yourself from moaning into his mouth, overwhelmed by how good it felt. How insanely intoxicating he tasted. How you were burning alive and it would be the sweetest death imaginable.

“Not if I kiss you first,” Seonghwa said once he broke the kiss apart. “Oh, wait, I just did.”

What the hell...had just happened? Sneaking a peak at the time, you were suddenly panicking by how late it was.

“Holy shit, my parents are going to kill me!” you exclaimed. “Can you please drive me home?”

“Sure thing, princess,” he laughed, increasingly amused by your flustered self. “That’s exactly what I was intending to do anyways. I’m not in the habit of keeping little girls past their bed time.”

“Shut up, I’m not a little girl!” you complained. “I’m just a few months younger than you. Asshole.”

“Hey! Is that any way to speak to your devoted boyfriend?” Seonghwa scolded you teasingly.

Oh, God. You loved the sound of that. Your best friend was now your boyfriend. It still felt unreal.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mewled apologetically, already knowing how to make him weak for you with just one tiny word. “And thank you for taking me home.”

“Anytime,” Seonghwa smiled. “See you tomorrow, baby.”

You could get used to it. Reaching forward to open the door for you, he whispered in your ear:

“I’m taking you out on our first date. Doll yourself up for me, will you?”

You nodded, your heart beating too fast to actually manage a verbal response. After you got inside and suffered a brief interrogation from your parents (using the library+extra assignments excuse), you hurried up the stairs, took a quick shower and then went to bed. No sooner had you closed your eyes than your phone buzzed with notifications.

Kermit the Frog: You still up?

Kermit the Frog: For fear of sounding lame, I moss you already

Kermit the Frog: *Miss...damn autocorrect

You chuckled upon seeing his messages. Whatever demon possessed you to still keep that nickname in your chat, you knew you had to change it immediately. If he saw it on your first date tomorrow, you would never hear the end of it.

You: I’m awake, yes

You: And I moss you too 😉

You purposefully misspelled the word to tease him. After all, it was only in order.

Boyfie 🐸: That obnoxious Kermit nickname better be gone by tomorrow

He texted as if he’d read your mind and you gasped in surprise.

Boyfie 🐸: Or we’re having our first couple fight!!

You: How did you know?!?

Boyfie 🐸: Not my fault you keep your phone unlocked sometimes

Boyfie 🐸: I’m not kidding, change it right now 😡

You: Changed it already

You texted him back quickly, sending him a screenshot.

You: Can I at least keep the frog emoji? 🥺

Boyfie 🐸: NO!!! REMOVE IT OR WE BREAK UP 😡😡😡

You: Damnit, Hwa, your angery Aries is showing...okay, fineee

You sent another screenshot of the now changed emoji.

You: Happy now?

Boyfie ❤️🖤💙: Much better, princess 🤗🤗🤗

Boyfie ❤️🖤💙: Now go to sleep, we have early classes tomorrow

You: Wow, so bossy. Okay, sir, I’m going

Boyfie ❤️🖤💙: Good night, my baby 😘

You: Staaahp, ohmygosh. And good night, Hwa 🥺

The next morning you ran outside faster than The Flash as soon as you heard the oh-so-familiar honks. When you saw Seonghwa waiting there to pick you up, your heart did a backflip as you excitedly took the passenger seat.

“Good morning, boyfriend,” you greeted him and kissed his cheek. “This still feels so strange.”

“Well, you better get used to it, doll. Wow, you really cleaned up nicely today,” he complimented your pastel pink dress. “Not that you usually don’t! You’re always gorgeous, I just meant that you’re especially gorgeous and...nope, that also sounds wrong. Okay, I shut up now.”

“Relax,” you giggled. “It’s fine. I appreciate the effort. You don’t look so bad yourself. Oh, who am I kidding? You’re practically sex on legs 24/7. I think it’s time for me to shut up now.”

“You’re so cute when you get flustered. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Just you,” you admitted.

Once you walked into the school, it was like everyone noticed the subtle change in your dynamic. Because Seonghwa did something he never did before. He carried your bag and gave you his leather jacket! And Hwa’s friends were immediately onto you like bees to honey.

“I mean, I knew you guys were dating,” Seonghwa’s friend Yunho observed. “But I never saw the chemistry before, to be honest. Until now. I mean, come on, Y/N was like a loyal puppy, always following Hwa around.”

“Hey, don’t give him any ideas!” you joked.

“Too late. Already ordered the collar,” Seonghwa winked.

“Kinky. Can’t tell if I’m into it or want to cut off my ears,” Yunho grinned. “Probably both.”

“Nice chat, but we gotta head to class, Yu,” Seonghwa said because his friend was in a different class.

“See you for lunch?” Yunho suggested.

“Can’t. Already made plans with this little girl,” Hwa tilted his head towards you.

“Whoo, enjoy, then!”

“It’s not what it sounds like!” you groaned, feeling uncharacteristically embarassed.

“Isn’t it?” Seonghwa smirked mysteriously and pulled you towards the room you had class in.

“Nothing involving collars and puppies, I assure you!” you yelled (perhaps a little too loudly), twisting your head, not wanting to give Yunho and the rest of Seonghwa’s friends the wrong idea.

When your classes for the day were over, Seonghwa led you towards his car once again. You were a bit nervous to make a good impression on your first date. Even though it was silly. Your best friend of four years had surely made a first impression a long time ago.

“Where are we going?” you asked to break the awkward silence.

“It’s a surprise, princess. Can you be patient for me?”

“I can,” you promised dutifully and placed your tiny hand on top of his. “Anything for you, sir.”

Seonghwa lost focus on the road for the briefest of moments in order to give you a warning look. One look and that was all you needed to keep you quiet and obedient. Eventually, you realized where he was taking you. Though you hadn’t been to his place for a couple of months now, you couldn’t forget how the drive to Seonghwa’s home looked.

“I dressed myself up and we’re just going to your place?” you hmphed in playful annoyance. “So much for our glamorous first date.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of my cooking skills. Shit, I sorta ruined the surprise, didn’t I?”

“Aww, you were planning to cook for me on our first date? Hwaaa, I’ve only had you as a boyfriend for less than 24 hours and you’re already pulling out the big guns! I don’t mean to push my luck but if you’re cooking now, I’m trembling to witness our one month anniversary.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes.

“You’re very ambitious to think you can put up with me for an entire month.”

”Hwa, sweetie, I’ve put up with you for four years.”

“Not as your boyfriend, you haven’t.”

“We’ll talk again in 30 days,” you vowed enigmatically.

“Here we are,” Seonghwa announced once he parked in front of his home. “My parents are currently at work so you don’t need to worry about...well, anything, really.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” for some reason his words made you even more worried.

“Nothing, I just meant you can...like, be yourself. There’s no one to impress.”

“There’s you,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget your parents already know me. And besides, you’re the only person I care about impressing.” 

“Not to stroke your ego, but you’ve already impressed me. After all, you’re the only one who’s had the audacity to compare me to a freaking muppet and survived.”

“Point taken,” you chuckled.

“Come on, let’s get inside,” Seonghwa suggested and the two of you entered his house. No matter how much you begged him to let you help with the cooking, he was insistent that he would do all the work. Said something about making up to you for the times you had to carry his bag or buy snacks to him and his friends. When you argued that you also had some making up to do for all the times you teased him a little too insensitively, he said that you agreeing to be his real girlfriend was enough to satisfy his wounded heart. Seeing that there was no point in arguing, you gave up and occupied yourself by mindlessly scrolling through social media. About an hour later, Seonghwa finally deemed his culinary masterpieces ready to be eaten. He allowed you to at least help set the table which you considered a small victory. The second you tried the first meal, you were so overwhelmed by the exquisite tastes that you spoke without thinking much.

“God, I wanna marry you.”

Seonghwa simply chuckled, amused by your unexpected reaction.

“Did I say that out loud?” you whispered, completely mortified, covering your mouth in embarassment.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Shit, I’m such a mess,” you mumbled.

“No, it’s fine. I take it as a compliment. Now, eat up before it gets cold. If my wicked plan works, you’ll have bought me a wedding ring by the time dessert arrives.”

“Truly wicked. I’m in danger,” you laughed and kept enjoying the various meals Seonghwa had prepared. 

Once the plates were empty, you felt so full and warm you couldn’t possibly move. And no, that wasn’t an exaggeration. Seonghwa had to physically carry you to the couch so that you two would re-watch Star Wars: Return of the Jedi together, warmly cuddled up under a blanket.

Suddenly, you were possessed by the urge to speak your mind and be as honest with him as possible. After hiding your true feelings for four years, now that you were finally given the chance to be yourself, you were feeling uncharacteristically brave.

“You know, even though I was messing around earlier, I had indeed daydreamed about marrying you back in our first year of high school. You were the first boy who ever treated me like I wasn’t the walking joke of the universe. The first who ever hung out with me not as a prank but because you actually saw me as a friend. When I started teasing you about your cute habits, I hope you know I never wished to hurt you. I just wanted to show you that I notice and appreciate every single detail about you. So, yeah, I really like you, Hwa. Have liked you for a long time.”

Seonghwa had paused the movie the second you started talking. And now that you were done sharing your thoughts, he seemed unable to say anything. The silence was a bit awkward so you interrupted it once again.

“I’m sorry, that was silly. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable so early in our re-”

This time, he interrupted you with a kiss, pulling you into his lap, just like the good old days. You smiled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him.

“It wasn’t silly. I appreciate you saying all that,” Seonghwa reassured you. “And for the record, I know you meant well with all the teasing. In a sense, a part of me even suspected that you liked me back. But I was also feeling a bit insecure. I kept thinking that you could do so much better than go out with dorky Kermit guy who has an obsession with tidying up, you know? That you deserved someone else. But I couldn’t allow anyone else to be that someone. So, I changed myself.”

“Maybe you did change a little. But in my heart, you’re always going to be my Frog Prince Hwa.”

“I hate you so much,” he rolled his eyes.

“Naw, you don’t.”

“Fine. I hate that you’re right.”

Things between you and Seonghwa were going great. It had been three months since you two started dating for real. He was super attentive and caring towards you. However, you were a bit bummed out since not much changed compared to his behaviour as your best friend and as your boyfriend. Sure, you did start kissing each other and occasionally making out (which wasn’t exactly a best friend activity). But there was one thing that still had not happened. And the more time passed, the more anxious you felt to bring it up.

One evening, you had miraculously convinced your parents to let you have a sleepover at Seonghwa’s place. After insisting that nothing out of the ordinary was going on between you two and even if something unusual did happen (which you highly doubted but secretly hoped for), you were going to use protection (and no, you were certainly not referring to Seonghwa’s collection of action figures who carried weapons).

As you and your boyfriend were enjoying your snacks while watching TV from the comfort of his bed, you couldn’t help but finally raise the question that had been tormenting your mind for a while now.

“S-seonghwa...do you not find me attractive?”

“What the hell are you asking me that for? Would you be my girlfriend if I didn’t find you attractive?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never dated anyone before so...I was just wondering if there’s a particular reason why we still haven’t...taken things to the next level?”

“The next level?” he chuckled. “Relationships aren’t video games. And to answer your question, the reason’s actually the exact opposite of your concerns. We haven’t done anything more than making out because I find you ridiculously attractive. And it’s taking every last inch of my self-restraint to not pressure you into something you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted to wait until you’re ready.”

“Ready? So you knew that I haven’t...with anyone...yet?” you purposefully left out some words because you were feeling incredibly shy discussing this with Seonghwa.

“Of course I knew, princess. You’re my best friend. And my girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s a relief, at least. That you’re not repulsed by my...inexperience.”

“Why would I be when we’re in the same boat?”

“We are?” you whispered in shock.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Seonghwa laughed. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since forever. Did you honestly think I would just screw anyone else?”

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t have options,” you pointed out, referring to all the potential love interests swarming around him like bees. “Unlike me.”

“Are you regretful, little girl?” he inquired, running a lazy finger across your cheek. “Jealous?”

“No, I just...want to be the best for you, sir,” you confessed nervously.

“You’re already the best I could hope for,” Seonghwa responded and kissed you hungrily, burying his hands into your hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you curiously needed to know. “That you haven’t either...”

“It’s not something that comes up in everyday conversation?” he pointed out. “What was I supposed to say? Hi, bestie, let’s have lunch together. Oh and by the way, I’m a hopeless virgin pining over you?”

“You’re right,” you laughed. “It would have made things awkward.”

“Now, unless you have any other pressing issues, I suggest we go back to kissing.”

And without giving you the time to argue, Seonghwa devoured your lips rightaway, gently pushing you down so that your back hit the sheets. Then, he started slowly taking off your jeans. Anxiously trembling under his vigorous touch, you placed a hand against his chest. He immediately noticed and put a temporary halt to his ministrations.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he comforted you with all the seriousness in his voice.

“No, I want to, I swear,” you nodded eagerly.

“Princess, you’re literally shaking,” Seonghwa remarked.

“What’s wrong with me?” you sighed.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. Tell me to stop if you feel even the slightest hint of hesitation or discomfort and I will, I promise.”

“I know you would, Hwa. I trust you. But even if I’m a bit nervous, I want to do this with you. Please?”

“Well, I can’t deny you since you’re asking so nicely,” he grinned and continued where he left off. “Can I get rid of these?” Seonghwa inquired, carefully pushing your panties to the side.

“Yes, you can do anything to me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you really shouldn’t have said that,” he chuckled darkly and tore your underwear savagely. You couldn’t even gather the energy to complain about the ruination of your new pair, you were far too turned on by Seonghwa’s aggressive nature to care. He didn’t waste any more time, grabbing your thighs to hold them in place, he began licking your pussy with his tongue and stimulating it with his long fingers. It didn’t take long for you to start squirming beneath his touch, helplessly moaning his name. He didn’t cease his merciless movements until you reached your orgasm. When your breathing finally eased, you gathered the energy to speak again:

“I thought you said you’ve never done this before? How were you so...so...”

“So good?” Seonghwa smirked confidently and bit his lower lip. “I mean...I’ve seen videos. Read some things here and there.”

“Honestly? I think you’re a god.”

“You’ll have to stop complimenting me so much or I’ll develop a god complex,” he joked. “What do you want to do next, baby?”

“I want to suck you off,” you mumbled.

“Who taught you such dirty language?”

“Hey! I read, too,” you pouted and assuredly made your way towards the carpet next to his bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Seonghwa asked.

“Aren’t I supposed to kneel in order to pleasure you, sir?”

“Princesses never kneel,” he instructed and got up from the bed, urging you to lie down with your head hanging from the very edge of the bed and make yourself comfortable. “Open up that pretty little mouth for me, will you?”

You did as he asked obediently and even went the extra mile to stick your tongue out. Unbuckling his belt and throwing it to the side, Seonghwa was quick to follow your wishes and let his cock spring free from his jeans. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his monstrous size. Seeing your worries if it will fit reflected in your eyes, he expressed his concern for you:

“Are you sure about this?”

“Please, please, I need you,” you whimpered without thinking, eager to have a taste. Without making you wait any longer, Seonghwa pushed the tip of his cock inside, gently letting your cheeks get used to the unfamiliar feeling. Slowly, he went deeper, allowing you to acquaint yourself with the stretch. When you kept blinking at him in anticipation, he realized you were ready for more and began moving faster, fucking into your mouth at a steady pace. As he neared his high, his motions became less controlled you were sucking more intently, impatient to swallow every last drop of him.

“Shit, I’m going to-” he attempted to break away, but you managed to wrap your hands at the back of his legs in order to keep his cock inside your mouth. 

Seconds later, he released his cum and you began drinking it thirstily. When you had made certain that no drop was wasted, you finally let go of his legs, allowing your boyfriend’s dick to dangle freely outside of your mouth.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Seonghwa praised you and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “My incredible girl.”

“I’m only yours, sir,” you mumbled, way too affected by him.

“You like this, don’t you?” he mocked you teasingly.

“Yes, sir, I want to belong to you,” you whimpered and turned around to pull him back into bed.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Seonghwa smiled fondly and took a mysterious package out of the back pocket of his jeans. Soon enough, you realized what it was, as he started lining up the condom on his cock.

“Oooh, I brought one of those, as well!” you exclaimed in surprise.

“You came here on a mission, didn’t you? Wicked little thing,” he tsked in fake disapproval.

“It’s not my fault you’re walking around like an Adonis,” you defended yourself boldly.

“You’re one to speak. Freaking goddess,” Seonghwa complimented you and slowly began unbuttoning your shirt you had somehow forgotten you were still wearing. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, always making sure you were feeling safe.

“More than okay,” you consented. Left in nothing but your baby pink bra, you unintentionally shivered at the sudden cold air surrounding you. Soon after that, Seonghwa undid the clasps and you were now only wearing your birthday suit. Feeling a bit timid, you self-consciously covered your breasts and broke eye contact with your boyfriend.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he pressed the palm of his hand against your cheek. “Do you want to stop?”

You weakly shook your head and somehow managed to gather the strength to look into his beautifully dark eyes once again.

“Then, let me see you, yeah?” Seonghwa nudged your hands away gently. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

You blushed at his sudden praise and allowed him to have a look. But seconds later, you were getting a bit impatient.

“Please, Hwa, I want you so much.”

“Anything for my princess,” he chuckled and coaxed his tip at your entrance slowly. When you gave him a sign he could go deeper, his movements became bolder. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

“M-more, sir, I swear I can do this,” you begged as you were beginning to unravel beneath him. As he fucked you faster into oblivion, you were no longer thinking straight and his name was the only word you were capable of uttering. Over and over again. Until you both came, blissfully lost in each other’s arms.

“Here, let me clean you up,” Seonghwa offered sweetly, picking you up with little effort and carrying you to the bathtub. 

When he started shampooing your hair, rubbing body lotion into your sensitive skin and covering your neck with soft kisses, you couldn’t stop your tears from falling, touched by his infinite tenderness and by the sheer intimacy of the gesture.

“Darling, are you crying?” he questioned you upon hearing your hiccups.

“N-no,” you lied but it was useless, because it was quite obvious you were, in fact, bawling your eyes out.

“Did I hurt you, my sweet princess?” Seonghwa asked in concern.

“How...how could you think that?” you whimpered. “You’ve been nothing but kind and caring towards me. It’s just that...this is the first time I’ve felt so...special, so worthy, so...”

“Loved?” he offered the word you had been seeking for but had been too scared to utter out loud.

“Y-yeah,” you confirmed shyly. “Is it too early to say this? I’m sorry if it is but...I love you, Seonghwa.”

He simply stared at you in disbelief for a couple of seconds. This time, you were once again the one to break the deafening silence.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just...I wanted you to know. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but-”

“I love you too, baby. Of course I do,” Seonghwa reassured you. “And I’m not just saying it, I don’t feel obliged to say it. As my best friend, you know me better than anyone else. And you know I don’t do things unless I want to. So, believe me when I say this.”

“Fuck,” you uttered and only started crying harder in his arms.

“Shhh, you’re safe with me, sweetheart. I would never harm you,” he comforted you and stroked your hair lovingly, putting all your worries and self-doubts at the very back of your head.

After you were all dried up from the bath and had put on your boyfriend’s shirt while he was still in the shower, you were feeling uncharacteristically confident. Confident enough to look for something you hadn’t seen for a while. You had been wondering if he had it hanging around somewhere in his wardrobe. And after a short period of rummaging you found your treasure. The green hoodie. The Kermit hoodie. You smiled mischievously as you changed into it. It still smelled like him, you beamed. Back when he was simply your best friend, the amount of times you had fantasized about him lending it to you should have been illegal. So now that you had been promoted to his girlfriend, you simply couldn’t let such an opportunity pass you by.

Once Seonghwa got out of the shower, water droplets running down the divine skin on his bare chest, you were too busy staring at him in all his beauty and glory to notice the angry look on his face.

“How did you even find this? It was hidden so well in my wardrobe,” he scowled.

“Don’t be mad,” you pouted adorably. “I look so cute in it, right?”

“Cuter than me, that’s for sure,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes and tickled your belly.

“That’s impossible, you make the cutest Kermit,” you giggled, enjoying how easy it was to get on his nerves.

“You’ll never let me live this down, will you?” he groaned.

“Never ever, my stunning Frog Prince,” you vowed and kissed him quickly, taking him by surprise. His eyes widened in shock and he seemed too flustered to continue scolding you.

“You’re in luck today. Nothing can ruin my good mood,” Seonghwa was determined.

“Great,” you grinned gleefully. “Cause from now on, I intend on making all your days filled with joy.”

“From now on?” he chuckled sarcastically. “Oh, princess, my days have been filled with nothing but joy ever since I met you.”

And indeed, both Seonghwa’s days and yours were nothing but pure happiness ever since you decided to make your relationship real. And despite his foolish statement that he no longer wanted to be your best friend, you had somehow managed to convince him that he was both your boyfriend and bestie and that was perfectly okay. As if in the blink of an eye, spring came which meant that the whole school was in nervous excitement about the upcoming prom. Generally, you weren’t the type to get overwhelmed about such a trivial topic. But now that you were dating Seonghwa, the most popular guy in the school, you couldn’t help but worry a little. What if he wanted to go with someone else? Someone equal in “status”? Your worries and insecurities further intensified when he started asking questions in a weird way.

“I need your help,” Seonghwa blurted out over lunch.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so, I have this friend. And he really likes this girl and wants to ask her to prom. What do you think would make her happy?”

You blinked in surprise. You knew that when people pulled the “I’m just asking for a friend” card, they were most likely talking about themselves. Was he seriously thinking of inviting another girl to prom? You tensed a little but tried really hard to remain neutral in your answer and actually make an attempt to help your bestie.

“I mean, all girls are different,” you reasoned. “If you describe her to me, maybe I’ll be able to give a more appropriate suggestion.”

“She’s a bit like you. You know, kinda bookish and-”

“It’s alright, Seonghwa, you can say it. I’m a nerd.”

“Well, yes, but...”

“It’s not exactly a slur,” you chuckled coldly.

“I know, but that’s what your bullies in middle school called you. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive,” Hwa put his hand on top of yours in a gentle, comforting manner.

“It’s fine when if you say it,” you smiled. “I won’t get offended.”

“I was going to say my friend’s crush is intelligent like you but, oh well.”

“That does sound better, I admit,” you giggled.

“She’s also a bit shy and introverted so maybe she wouldn’t enjoy a public promposal. Crowds tend to make her nervous,” Seonghwa observed.

“Seems like you didn’t need my help after all,” you scoffed playfully.

“No, I do! I still haven’t come up with an actual way to propose. I mean, for my friend.”

“Right. Your friend. Well, he can’t go wrong with some poetry under her balcony. If she has one, that is.”

“I’m pretty sure she does.” Seonghwa smirked. “Alright, thanks.”

He jumped from his seat, not even having finished his lunch.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I gotta prepare my friend’s promposal,” he shrugged and disappeared from your sight, leaving you a bit crest-fallen. If he was intending on asking you, he wouldn’t have turned to you for help, right? That would sorta ruin the element of surprise, wouldn’t it? And yet, you knew that Seonghwa wasn’t the type to care about people’s opinions and randomly ask a more popular girl out because of public demand. And he definitely wasn’t the kind of person to just date you for kicks and then ditch you at prom. Despite those very logical reasons, you couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

A week later, you realized all your worries had been for nothing. It was a Sunday morning and you had just finished having breakfast with your family. You were leisurely reading on your bed when you heard some suspicious noises coming from your window. You looked up from your book and you could swear you saw tiny rocks hitting the glass! You jumped up angrily, half-expecting to find a bunch of neighbour kids pulling a prank. But you were surprised when you spotted your boyfriend standing under your balcony. Wearing his iconic green hoodie.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered, though a hopeful part of you already knew the answer.

“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,” he recited diligently in a song-like manner.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his overdramatic acting but it was the effort that touched you immensely.

“And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!” he continued sweetly.

You were so in love with this man it was insane.

“Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return,” Seonghwa kept going.

You couldn’t resist the urge to leap off the balcony. It was just the second floor so what could possibly go wrong? Other than a scraped knee and a bit of a limp. God, you were such an idiot.

“Shit, are you okay?” Seonghwa asked in terror and wrapped his arms around you.

“The excruciating pain is worth it if I get to hug you like this,” you grinned, leaning against him for support.

“Why couldn’t you just walk down the stairs like a normal person?”

“And what’s romantic about that?” you joked. “Jumping off a balcony makes for a much better story.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Only for you, my sweet Frogmeo!” you teased and kissed his cheek.

“Wait, I wasn’t finished!” Seonghwa exclaimed excitedly, not bothering to act offended about your obsession with him and that Kermit hoodie. “There was something about cheeks, I swear.”

“See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!” you helped him out dutifully.

“O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!” he finished proudly and placed his palm against your cheek.

“Only you could possibly mix Romeo and Juliet with The Frog Prince and somehow make it work,” you praised him.

“Does that mean you’ll go to prom with me?” Seonghwa tilted his head to the side adorably.

“Of course I will, baby,” you responded happily.

“Thank God, ‘cause learning that monologue drained my soul and brain,” he whistled playfully.

“You know, you had me worried there for a second,” you confessed reluctantly, because you didn’t want to keep any secrets from your doting boyfriend.

“When?” Seonghwa asked in confusion.

“Lunchtime. A week ago. When you asked me for advice. I thought that...”

“That I would ask someone else?” he correctly guessed your suspicions. And you nodded. “Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

“No, you’re perfect. In fact, too perfect. It makes me feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Seonghwa smiled sadly and kissed the top of your head. But he wasn’t angry with you. Just wanted to erase those silly thoughts from your mind.

“You deserve so much more, princess. But I’ll try my best to give you all I can.”

“As will I,” you promised and mischievously pulled the drawstrings on his hoodie, making his face squished adorably.

“If this is the best you’re capable of, I dread to see your worst,” he shook his head in amusement.

“Prince Frogmeo and the Nerdy Princess,” you sighed wistfully. “That would make a hell of a fairy tale, wouldn’t it?”

“How about Kermit the Frog whoops the Princess’s ass for being a brat?” Seonghwa threatened jokingly.

“You know what? I wouldn’t say no to that,” you giggled and started running away from him. “If you catch me first!”

Prom night arrived and despite all the preparations and excitements around it, it was nothing special in itself. What made it special, however, were the moments you spent with Seonghwa. Just dancing and talking seemed to be enough to make your heart leap with joy. And the smile never left your face the entire night.

“School’s really ending, huh?” you spoke aloud without thinking, while you were swaying slightly to the music in your boyfriend’s arms.

“This isn’t the end of us. We’ll go to college, we’ll grow up. The best is yet to come, darling.”

“You know what I meant,” you replied, a hint of sadness tinging your tone. “In college, I’ll study Literature, you’ll study Music. We’ll no longer be able to sit next to each other in class or exchange notes or hold hands under the desk.”

“We’ll do all sorts of other things,” Seonghwa responded cheerfully, trying to think positive. “We’ll have study dates in college, we’ll visit new restaurants and make more memories together. Just because high school is over, doesn’t mean we are. I’m not giving up on my best friend ever.”

“Your girlfriend,” you corrected him playfully.

“My best friend,” he repeated. “You were right. Being in love with each other doesn’t nullify our friendship. Both are equally important to me. You are the most important to me.”

“God, Hwa, how can you say such things so easily?”

“Is your heart fluttering?” your boyfriend and best friend teased you, swirling you around while dancing. You were met with his beautiful dark gaze again as he murmured: “Hi, princess.”

“H-hi, S-seonghwa,” you chuckled in response.

And you were finally home.

The End

[fivefeetfear]

Chp 13 final Chp part 1

And we are at the end of the road!

…………..

The end of the month came and went meaning My contract at Ozzies is over. The whole thing was very bitter sweet. I grew as person and artist, I made lots of new friends and potential coworkers. I am signed to one of the biggest labels in all 7 rings, my first album is completed and I have the best boyfriends ever. But being on the road is gonna suck without them.

Fizzarolli and Asmodeus are extremely proud of me but they are obviously upset that I am on the road for the next few months. The first couple of weeks they called me every night to chat or even just to sleep together on video chat. I’ve miss their synchronized snoring. But calls now dwindle down to whenever I had the opportunity to take a break. Fizz would visit my rehearsals here and there and sometimes they both were able to come to my shows. Our time together would be short but it meant a lot. I know how busy they are so it meant the world to me when they took time off to support me.

I was also able To have Blitz and his friends tag along. I may or may have not paid them the cost of a five month worth of work. (It wasn’t a lot). They were all more than happy to oblige seeing as they are all on a paid vacation. And something about Blitz not wanting to seeing Stolas for a while. I didn’t know a whole lot but he’ll tell me when he is ready!

I couldn’t provide the same courtesy for my boys being they are a high demand club and made a hell of a lot more money than I.M.P.

Time kept speeding on by, three months had passed us in a snap. I am currently in my tour bus lying on the bed scrolling through my phone. Blitz and the gang went to explore the city, we are in the slot ring. I stood behind because I am totally exhausted. Don’t get me wrong I love sight seeing but Last night took up so much of my energy. So far no other ring could best the crowds energy in the envy ring. It was intoxicating. I performed five extra songs because I didn’t want leave, they kept cheering me on to sing. They sang along, it was just so unreal to hear a mass of voices sing your song to you as one. It was a high I never wanted to come down from. And now I am suffering the consequences with a major body aches and a headache. I just need some peace and quiet.

AHHHH!

I heard my phone scream at me. There goes my peace and quiet. I look at the caller ID and saw it was Fizzarolli calling to video chat! I quickly answer the phone excited to his face. It’s almost been a whole week since we’ve all chatted!

“Ollie!” I chirp happily seeing the jesters cute face.

“Hey there toots how’s it going?!” Mhm I missed his scratchy voice. I just miss his everything! I rolled on my back as I held the phone close to my face.

“It’s going fucking great. I’m really tired but last night was amazing! I wish you were able to be there!” He was so supposed to see me last night but I guess things got out of control at Ozzies. But I just told him in detail what happen, trying to recreate the scene. As I was talking I realized that I haven’t spent time with Fizzarolli and Asmodeus in nearly a month. It made me really sad, we went from spending everyday together and now we rarely see each other. I understand They have packed shows and our schedules completely conflicts with the others. But it still really sucked. I’ve planned to surprise them but my manager kept me for extended rehearsals and interviews. The second I’m done it’s either too late in the night or early in the morning.

“Sounds like a real blast baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t come down last night. Things got real hectic down here.” He began to explain what happen. Something about a huge fight he and Asmodeus had to break up. I saw that he’s walking around the club, I could hear him greeting others. He still must be working.

“When do you think you’ll be able to make it?” I ask, now laying on my side holding a body pillow of him that he sent to me.

“Uggh I’m not sure dolly, I have to look at my schedule again. I’ll let ya know when I can.” I noticed he walked into another room seeing how much darker and quieter it is. He groans loudly as he rubs his eyes tiredly.

“But I gotta say babe, I miss you and your tight pussy so fuckin much.” He growls into the transmitter. Oh fuck that was hot. I could feel the hairs on the back on neck stand on up while my body immediately warms up.

“A month without the good stuff is torture. I can’t fuckin believe I went years without. Fuck just thinking about filling you up is starting to turn me on~.” My face flush with color as I watch him prop up his cellphone. He sat on a Familiar fluffy pink chair with his legs spread open. I could see a delicious tent standing tall just for me. Oh fuck. The two of us aren’t strangers to phone sex. We’ve have done it quite a lot while I was on the road. It wasn’t the same as the real deal but it was a close second.

I eagerly sat up showing him I was in nothing but a sport bra and thong. I had my own room on the tour bus so I was able to comfortably walk around naked if I wanted to.

“Mhm~ well what I miss is your mouth. I love the way your long tongue slips inside of me.” I purr back to him. My hands slowly sliding down my thong strings. Fizzarolli bit his lower lip as his hands made quick work of his pants button and zipper. His member sprung up from its confinements hard and ready. The jester began to stroke himself in a slow teasing manner. Edging is his favorite thing to do to himself. His hungry eyes stare me down as he licks his razor sharp teeth.

“Spread those legs for me so I can see ya wet pussy~.” Satan I love it when he gets so serious. It just made me quiver. I did as I was told and spread my legs to the camera so he had full view of me.

“Fuck ya already wet for me slut~” Fizzarolli pumps himself a little faster as he watches me tease my clit.

“Mhmm Ollie, I miss your big cock inside of me. I want you to fill me up like the dirty lil slut I am.~”I whine softly as I slip one finger inside of myself.

“I wanna feel ya deep inside of me daddy~.” Fizz growls lowly to himself as he picks up the pace on his member. I kept moaning his name as I kept slipping more digits inside myself. I too finding a desirable pace inside myself. It just made it more exciting seeing His pink hues completely focus on my dripping cunt.

“Satan ya such a whore, fuckin ya own tight pussy out of desperation for my touch. Such a needy Bitch.” He degraded me in the best way, his words made my walls tighten around my fingers as I called out his name.

“F/f….fuckkkk.” He grunts out his legs began to tremble. He was about to cum.

“Mhmmm~ Ollieeee please fuck me harder I-I’m gonna cummmm.~” I cried feeling myself about to reach my climax as well.

BOOM

“Where are you gonna go?! I wanna come too!” Blitz shouts as he kicks in my door. I scream in horror as I quickly grab my Fizzarolli body pillow and cover myself.

“BLITZ!!” Me and Fizzarolli shout at the imp. The horny jester reach for his device but end up dropping it to the floor. He curses to himself when the phone cracked on impact.

“Blitzo ya stupid fuckin bitch!” Fizzarolli voice hollers in frustration from my cellphone.

“We’re you two freaks fucking on the phone!!? Can I watch?”

“OH MY SATAN BLITZ GET THE FUCK OUT! OR ILL SKIN YOU ALIVE!” I bellow at him feeling completely mortified. This is so fucking embarrassing! When B finally left I sigh heavily, flopping onto my bed I apologized to Fizzarolli over and over. I should have double check the lock on the door.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t your fault. He’s a fucking idiot. Ugggh! I was so close too. Fucccckkk, I really miss ya F/N this distance shit ain’t it. I wanna have ya here and be all mines” Awe! My heart flutter at his sweet words. I squeezed the body pillow a little hard feeling a new sensation bloom in my chest.

“Awee Ollie I am yours. I’ll be home soon. Just two more months.” The imp groans as he began muttering to himself.

“I can’t wait that long”. he sat back in the fluffy chair looking in deep thought. I was getting a little nervous on what he meant. He can’t wait for me to come back to fuck him? Was he thinking about fucking someone else? I know I didn’t say we were exclusive but I was hoping if just be the three of us.

“Your dick will be fine, you have Momo.” I tried reassuring him. He can always get his fix from the prince of lust himself.

“No not that….. I hate that youre so far. I just…..I want…Mhm I gotta make some calls. I talk to ya soon toots. Bye love ya!” And with that he hung up. Leaving me confused.

“Love you too.” I whisper to myself. I honestly don’t know how to feel. The thought of him fucking some random bothered me. I sigh heavily as curled back on the bed.

In the other room Blitz sat with M&M and then his phone rang.

“Well hello there, I didn’t know phone sex operators made house calls, how much do you charger?” Blitz says with a shit eating grin.

“Shut the fuck up Blitz. I’m calling because Ima need a favor from ya. Think ya can handle it?” Fizzarolli asks him.

……..

The last couple of months of tour flew by. And it has been an incredible experience! Meeting my fans and going on interviews has been such a chaotic time but I would never change it! Even though one of the talk shows host kept asking personal questions about Fizzarolli and Asmodeus.

“So how are the three love birds? Is it official? Are you guys together? It must be a pleasurable time seeing they are both Notorious for their sexual history! Where’s the crazy places you three fucked?”

She would drone on and on wanting to get the latest scoop. I answer to the best of my abilities without giving too much away. Verosika even came to a few of my shows as a guest and we may have hooked up while she was here (she wasn’t some rando, she a friend I fuck occasionally). Asmodeus even called more often seeing Fizzarolli had booked more of his stand up shows in other realms meaning he wasnt able to visit yet again.

We finished the last couple of shows in the gluttony ring and today is my last show and then I will be all theirs for ever how long!

“Hey N/N what do you think about this one?” Millie voices interrupts my train of thought. I look at the short woman as she points to a ring in a glass case. We are in a mall looking for rings for some reason. She mentioned something about getting a new ring? I think she lost hers, I don’t know. All I know is she and Blitz have been dragging my tired ass from mall to mall the last couple months.

“Uhh it’s ok, the Diamond kind of small.” She hums in thought, the imp nods in agreement as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Well which ring would you get than?” Not this question again. It was basically routine now. She will point to different rings that I didn’t find cute, I say no then she will ask me which one I like. It’s getting old.

“I don’t know the last mall didn’t have anything cute. And I wasn’t even looking.” that was a lie. We are currently in one of the best jewelry stores that we ever walk into and I’ve already spotted the ring that I really liked. I couldn’t help but think about Fizzarolli proposing to me. Ill be honest if shit never gone wrong in the first I’m pretty sure we would have been married now with three to four kids and one on the way. But all that seems so out of reach. Between us being in a trouple and newly made career marriage and kids seem like a dream.

“Oh come there has to be one.” Millie pushes as she looks around the various of rings. My eyes travelled to a beautiful ring to the far right, slowly I pointed it out.

“I really like that one.” I admitted admiring how it shine in the light. It’s really fucking gorgeous. Millie peeks over and Ohhh loudly.

“Oh that is stunnin! You should try it on!”

“No Millie that’s no-“

“Hello sir! Yes can you please take that ring out my friend wants to try it on.” Oh great. The employee nods as he open the case and pulls out the ring.

“You have a good eye ma’am, that ring has no flawless, it reflects in every light and has a tastefully sized Diamond.” He says as he reaches out for my left hand. I hesitate at first not wanting to try it on. If I loved it, it will be so hard to part with. But I could always buy it, right? Slowly I gave him my hand and he slips on the rock on my ring finger. Holy fuck. I couldn’t take my eyes away from it. It’s…its fucking breath taking.

“Perfect fit, like it was made for you.” The man says.

“Oh wow.” Was all I could say as I admire the ring from every angle. I heard Millie losing her shit as she too just seem as mesmerized as me.

“That is one of a kind, it’s called The Sinners Eye, so it will cost 80,000. With tax it will bring you up to 100,000.” Oh fuck. That’s a lot of money. And I have made a shit ton more on tour so It’s wasn’t terrible, but I would never spend that much for jewelry. With a heavy heart I shook my head.

“It’s gorgeous but no thank you.” The employee nods as he was ready to take the ring.

“Wait!” Blitz says seemingly popping out of thin air. He took a picture of the ring on my finger in several angles.

“There so you can treasure this moment for the rest of your life!” He chimes forwarding the photos to my phone. I chuckle as I rolled my eyes.

“Ok thanks B.” I returned the ring to the man and bid him goodbye so I could get ready. The store phone rang and the gentleman waved goodbye before answering it.

“Hello. Yes I can hold a ring for you sir, yes it is still available! When will you be picking it up? Tonight? Splendid! I’ll have it set up!”

…………….

“Thank you so much everyone for a wonderful night! I love all of you!” I yell into the microphone. Sweat still dripping down my body as I steadily caught my breath. And just like that my tour came to an end.

“Make sure to get home safe and have DD! Thank you so much good fucking night!” The audience cheer loudly and it made my very core shake with excitement. This will never get old! I began to walk off the stage, I want to call Ollie or Momo again. I haven’t spoken to Ollie for three days. He didn’t even text me good luck like he usually does. I was getting nervous. Before I made it off the stage i heard Blitz voices over the speakers.

“Excuse me before you all go home and shoot up whatever drugs you have I want to make an announcement! Obscure your presence is needed, get up here bitch.” Oh great here we go. I walk out back to the middle of the stage and stood beside the imp curious on what he is up to. I could see the cameras zooming in on us on the large screens across the stadium.

“Good. For those who don’t know me I am Blitz, and me and Obscure go way back! Basically diapers!”

“That’s because he was a six year old wearing diapers.” I joke making the crowd laugh. Blitz did not find it as funny and he simply flips me the bird.

“As I was sayin. I’m not a man of kind words, but I just wanted to say How fucking proud I am of you, you fucking whore! You always wanted to be a singer and here you are selling fuckin out shows in all rings of hell!! You worked your cute lil ass off and it paid off! You have grown into a boss as Bitch and living your best Damn life. I am so grateful that I was able to be part of this journey to see it all. ” The audience went wild as he too cheered obnoxiously into the microphone. My eyes soften as I watch him celebrate my success. It meant so much to me seeing how proud and excited he is for me. I reach down and east pull Blitz into a bone crushing hug.

“B If it werent for you pushing me I wouldn’t be here. So thank you for being the biggest ass hole, getting kicked out of each bar in hell and coming into mines. You changed my life forever and I could never repay you for that. Thank you B, I love you so much!” I could sense my throat getting tight from all the emotions I am experiencing. If it wasn’t for him I would still be working in that shitty bar wondering what could have been if I didn’t perform at PISS. Waste my time Dreaming of what I have now. I could feel Blitz squeezing me equally as hard as we just embrace the other on stage.

“I love you like the non-biological sister I always wanted to fuck.” I choke on my spit as I burst out laughing with the rest of the guest. And he is back. I gently shove Blitz back playfully as we chuckle at his inappropriate joke.

“You perv!”

“Yeahhh well whattaya going to do? But seriously no matter what I’ll always have your back. Your next adventure is around the corner, and just so you know I gave him my blessing.” I tilt my head to the side as My brows knit together in confusion. What Blessing? What the hell did that mean?

“What ar-“

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” The audience scream at the top of their lungs nearly deafening me. It nearly blew my eye drums out! What is going on!? I was trying my best to regain my composure from the screaming but Blitz then grabs my shoulders and whirls me around. My Vision became blur from the whiplash, I nearly fell over stumble but Blitz hands kept me steady on my feet. I rapidly blink my eyes trying to focus them again, Once they I just loudly as I covered my mouth in shock.

“No fucking way.” My voice shakes as tears swells in my eyes. In front of me is my darling Fizzarolli wearing an all black jester suit on his knee. In his hands he holds The Sinners Eye in a black velvet box. He smiles nervously as he began to to undo his bow tie. Holy shit, holy shit.

Blitz puts a finger to his lips shushing the crowd that still rage excitedly for us. When the room got quiet Fizzarolli clear his throat, he grabs the microphone B offered him and spoke.

“Uh, oh wow this harder than I thought.” I giggle softly trying to keep it together. I’ve never seen him so flustered.

“Ok, 23 years ago I fell in love with you, a sweet dorky girl I met in grade school. The two of us became friends a-

“The three of us became friends. Don’t forget me!” Blitz cuts in. I shoot him a wide eye stare that scream “shut the fuck up”. Getting the message he coughs into his fist before stepping back. Fizzarolli chuckles softly when I gave him my undivided attention as though nothing happen.

“When we were 14, I finally had the fuckinh balls to ask her out. When you said yes and I busted a nut.” This earned a laugh from everyone in the room. I cover my wide smile as I shook my head. I remember him asking me out. He look like he was gonna puke if anything.

“We had a beautiful 10 year relationship. I was the happiest I ever been. But I was fucking fool and I lost ya. For nearly five years I couldn’t get ya outta my head, and nor did I want to. Ya showed me unconditional love that I did not deserve. Ya supported me through all of my bull shit. Then you came back into my life and I never want to go a day without ya ever again. I know we just reconnected a few months ago but while you were on tour it was killing me not havin ya around. It was near torture not having ya besides me and Ozzie where ya belong. So will you please put me out my fucking misery and marry me?” Throughout the speech I couldn’t hold back the tears. I let them flow as I took in all that he said to me. I study the look on his face as he talk. I could hear the occasional shake in his voice while he struggle to keep his tears at bay.

And when he asks me, My mind went blank as I tried to form a sentences i kept stumbling over my words like an idiot. I couldn’t believe this is happening. I’ve dreams about this moment since I was a kid! And I can’t even talk!! Get a grip! My tears fell as I nod eagerly nearly bouncing in place. A Large smile grows on my face as I shout.

“Yes! Yes Ollie! fuck yes I’ll marry the fuck outta you!” I cried happily. The audience once again Lost their collective shit as they fill the space with their screams.

The jester let a few tears of his own fall as he slips the ring on my finger. And in a blink on eye he scoops me up into his arms bringing me into a loving kiss. My hands immediately cup his cheeks holding him close in the kiss. I open my mouth allowing his fork tongue to slip inside. I haven’t seen him in months and I really fucking missed him. So I will enjoy this moment for however long I wanted it, I knew Ollie didn’t mind one bit.

………….

Part 2 coming soon! ~

[burnedbyshoto]

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc

genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff 

word count: 2.2k

WARNINGS: none (pls tell me if there’s anything i missed!)

a/n: THEIR LOVE STORY CONTINUES AND YOU WILL FIND OUT ON MY NEXT POST! i will say this over and over again, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART! 

epilogue | masterlist

The trial of your father was not something you have ever imagined you would experience nor witness in this lifetime. Despite having the option to not go, you still attended. You weren’t present at the court itself though. Instead you waited at the parking lot with Jeongyeon everyday from the first day up to the last day. The judge’s verdict was obvious and irrevocable. Your father’s ancestry, title and reputation didn’t matter in the eyes of justice. At some point, you couldn’t accept it still but eventually you knew that every wrong must be corrected.

You can say that the wounds from this inevitable downfall burned the most than the wounds inflicted by the enemy.  

Wonwoo was at your apartment when you arrived after the long hours of waiting. He just finished showering, drying his hair with a clean towel when he greeted you. After getting discharged from the hospital, he didn’t fail to visit your place and most times, he would stay the night. That’s why it’s natural and comforting to see him lounge around as if he has been living with you from the get go. 

He already knows how the trial went because it was everywhere. He catches you with his arms once your bag is dropped on the couch and the tears you have been holding back start to fall. It’s not easy to cry every second, every minute and every hour. It’s not easy to accept that your tears are not enough. Not enough to help your father without damaging everything else further. 

Your face was buried on the crook of your lover’s neck as you finally let it all out. He holds you there for a while before he moves the two of you to the couch and keeps you close by letting you take a seat on his lap.

You love your father so much but it is only right and only just to let this Kingdom punish him for the crimes he committed against the people he swore honesty and protection to. 

The exhaustion made you fall asleep and Wonwoo left you be until he had to wake you because he doesn’t want you to skip your meal. After munching on a few bites, he led you to the bathroom for a warm bath, sitting on the cold tiled floor as he took care of you. And in the late evening, he held you close as you retired from the pain of the day.

Wonwoo is a gift and he makes every single day a little better.

You and Wonwoo decided to tie the knot three years later than what was initially arranged. It just felt right at the time to postpone the wedding and do what should be done. The Prince can tell that your heart and mind was not set on marriage yet because of what was currently happening. He was the one who brought it up, suggesting a postponement if you needed the time to think and of course, to wait. He didn’t mind because he’s one hundred percent sure that he is yours and it wasn’t necessary to immediately hold a wedding to seal the deal.

Three years of waiting wasn’t the timeline you intentionally planned on but if one were to count, that’s how long the two of you endured. The plan to have a grand wedding was scrapped and essentially, you two were back to zero. The venue, decorations, menu and even the custom made wedding dress and tuxedo were either auctioned or donated. It was a unanimous decision among you, him, your mother and his parents. It was for the better and taking things slow in your relationship was much needed anyway. 

On the subject of parents, Wonwoo’s, for a period of time, were uneasy with your relationship. It was not because of you and what your father did. Their Majesties were wise enough to not hold anything against you and who you are. What made them uneasy was the people and their talking. If some were still loyal and supported and rooted for you, some were the exact opposite. The tabloids were cruel as well and you didn’t miss them displayed in every newsstand. They still gossiped about your father and even talked about the most irrelevant nonsense. Like come on, who cares about you wearing an orange jacket on a normal Sunday?

But the major stumbling block for them was your recommendation to abolish the Royal Family of your Kingdom. 

You have pondered about it for quite a while and when you have made your decision, you discussed it with the rest of your relatives. As the times have changed, reigning as the sole power of the kingdom didn’t appeal to your family anymore. Some of your father’s siblings and cousins have discussed this already even before your father himself inherited the throne. It just so happened that the then cabinet members strongly opposed the idea. However this time, things will be different for and with you. 

By right, you are the Queen of the Kingdom and it won’t be for much longer.

It was a long and exhausting process. You had to meet with the Cabinet and the policy making body of the Kingdom. For a whole year, you were lobbying and arguing with a lot of individuals who have their own greedy political agendas. However, for the same whole year, the people were supportive of your decision and goal. That pushed you forward and motivated you to not give up. It paid off because in the end, you stepped down as the last Queen to ever reign in your family and ultimately, the Kingdom. 

Countless aspiring public servants stole the spotlight the following year as the campaign season started. Some still encouraged you to hold a position to which you declined immediately. It was a tight competition because every candidate had the potential. The people were smarter and at the same time stronger. They knew who they wanted and needed to lead the Kingdom. No flowery words could ever sway them. 

Power to the people indeed.

You were present to the formulation and enactment of the new laws that will hopefully make the Kingdom and its citizens flourish without the presence of abuse of power and dishonesty. Once you finally signed the last piece of document as the Queen, the Kingdom is not yours anymore and you have never felt so free. 

During the (unintentional) three year wait, you and Wonwoo made the most out of your time as boyfriend and girlfriend, fiancé and fiancée. Well, the engagement ring wasn’t returned to you so you’re quite unsure about the status of the latter. You didn’t lose it though. Wonwoo admitted on one of your dates that it’s with him and that he’ll eventually give it back. 

Wonwoo stayed and continued working at the Royal Hospital meanwhile you decided to leave your current law firm and establish a new one to serve the public. It was a busy year of transition and you felt bad that you dragged Wonwoo into it. Even though he promised that he didn’t mind, you still can’t help but feel terrible that he’s carrying a whole lot of baggage that isn’t his. 

He will just shush you with a kiss on the lips whenever you bring it up and you hate how he makes it work. 

For most of the time, you were awfully busy, you had to bring work back to your apartment. Wonwoo would always complain with his forehead on your shoulder as you worked away on your desk. He would complain that it’s already late and you should be snuggled to him by then and you would just scratch the back of his neck to placate him. To which, he didn’t like. He didn’t stop until you shut down your laptop and let him pull you to bed. 

Wonwoo diligently went back and forth to his hometown and here. He could go back and work at his Kingdom, but not without you. He made it clear that he has every intention of marrying you, so until then, he’d stay by your side. You love every single bit of time you spent with him and you’re beyond grateful. Although there was one instance you had to take care of him because he got sick, that didn’t make him stop. 

The two of you went to a lot of dates despite the busy and overlapping schedules. Most of your dates consisted of long drives far from the city. You frequent farms, beachsides and small hidden cafes with little to none customers. It was great and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It’s Wonwoo, after all. 

Eventually, you had to visit his parents and introduce yourself in a whole new and different perspective. It was nerve wracking, but their Majesties never changed. In fact, almost everyone at their Kingdom still treated and served you like royalty to which you vehemently refused. Nonetheless, their Majesties still gave their utmost blessing and support to your relationship and if anything, they hope to see you get married soon. 

Wonwoo requested to meet your father at some point. At first, you were confused as to why but when he told you that he wanted to do things right, you couldn’t say no. 

You had to admit, you were embarrassed. However, you swallowed your pride because it’s pointless to keep concealing yourself from Wonwoo. He has accepted and loved you in every way and every form already, all you have to do is bare yourself to him. 

The meeting and conversation you shared with your father was short-lived because of the time limit. In spite of that, it was good to see him and you’re happy Wonwoo took the initiative to visit him. It has already been two years since he got imprisoned and even though you couldn’t visit him every day, your father never held it against you. He was ecstatic to see Wonwoo and the news of your wedding still on, made him burst into a joyful laughter. 

It still pained you to see him on the other side of the glass. It still pained you to not hug or touch his hand at least. But you keep yourself together and remember the purpose as to why your father had to go through this. 

Your father never failed to tell you his regrets and apologies, but most importantly, he never failed to tell you how proud he is and that he loves you very much so. 

You will never become a queen anymore, but Wonwoo vowed that you will be of his heart. He found it cringey himself, but he told you he had to say it in front of everyone present at your wedding. You just laughed it off because you know he’s not saying it out of spite. 

The wedding happened at his mother’s garden with only close family and friends invited. Your father couldn’t make it even if he wanted to, but it was alright because you promised you’ll send lots of pictures afterwards. Some of your relatives made it, Jeongyeon and Seungkwan were also there. Meanwhile, all of Wonwoo’s relatives made it and of course his best friends Soonyoung, Jihoon and Jun (whom you met along the way) were also present. 

It was a short ceremony that didn’t last more than three hours. It started late in the morning and ended early in the afternoon. The two of you, hand in hand and all smiles, did your best to mingle with every guest and thank them for their time and attendance after finally sealing everything with a long kiss and of course, legal documents.

There was no afterparty held after lunch was served, you and Wonwoo wanting the rest of the day to yourselves. A traditional program sounded lovely, but the two of you wanted to be simple. 

The wedding was three years long in the making and in between, it almost didn’t happen. The beginning was vague because it started off as an arranged union. You didn’t know him, he didn’t know you. The middle was everything you wanted, full of love and security. You were so sure and so ready, just waiting for the dress and everything was set. However before the happy ending, shortcomings and bad deeds needed to be resolved and by doing so, one of you almost had to sacrifice the middle that you were ready to have forever. 

But when Wonwoo buried his face in the space between your jaw and neck and his arms found its way around your waist, you realized that everything that had to happen was worth it. In the middle of the garden where the two of you stood alone, swaying from side to side, you realized and accepted that it was all worth it. 

Your fingers ran through the hairs of your husband’s hair and he hummed at the sensation. You smiled at the vibration and continued holding him. If you were to tell one of the sentiments that you and Wonwoo share when you’re together, it’s that you wish for everything to never end. And now that you’re married, it is not far-fetched. 

“I love you, Wonwoo,” you whispered and you’re not crying anymore. 

Wonwoo pulls away slightly to look at your face and when he sees your smile, he knows that he loves you too.

a/n 2: all my love, the drabble/oneshot series masterlist is up! 🧡