#i didn’t feel like drawing the legs.

[astrobei]

*hozier plays ominously in the background*

[imthursdaysyme]

Sleepover shenanigans

[supaastarrr]

My self insert (+ bully oc) during the jock boss fight😋

[clearpoolart]

Had to draw the tail

[alangdorf]

Actually I lied I’m just gonna do separate posts cause I’m impatient, one composite one now and then the rest (including the normal form ref, Traitor Magolor/EX, hopefully Epilogue final boss fight and maaaaaybe Manager/Shoppekeeper Magolor) later when they’re done, which will be after the legs are all finished. Anyway here’s Magolor

Now, you may be thinking: “Hey Kit, did you make our catboy a bird?” To which I say, “Read my 1.8k word essay from last week.” Albeit I don’t think canon Magolor is an actual Doomer, I just thought it would be fun; plays nicely with the wings + talons imagery of the crown, and I wasn’t sure about giving him full-on cat ears anyway (Also. Egg). I’m also weirdly committed to both staying relatively on-model and having fairly realistic continuity and am proud of how well I managed to do on those with stuff like the sleeves having the same markings as the ears of the hood so they can stand in for them in 2nd phase after the cloak gets its closure broken and falls off. Also btw the leg prosthetics (I commissioned a friend who draws mecha to design better ones than I could lol) are held together & operated by magic that Mags is always running in the background so they fall apart in 2nd phase once he’s no longer controlling his own magic. Ok that’s probably enough non-tag rambling; hasta luego!

[patheticbatman]

Collage posting!

I’ve made others that are more patterned (like flowers) but these were made for specific people, so yeah. The Pegasus one is the closest to my usual work.

I’m going to put these into my book covers for the coloring books/collection of stories that I write (see the last picture, I use them as inside cover decoration)

[goxjo]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 ♥︎

⟢ ┈ ﹒꒰ the morning after your first time with him, he’s not quite finished with you FT. gojo, nanami, geto, naoya, toji x fem! reader ꒱

AUTHOR’S NOTE. yeah, this could end up being very sweet or very horny. either way, please mind the warnings uwu. also, gojo’s is longer than the rest just bc <3

CONTENT. explicit smut, some sprinkles of fluff, eepy jjk men. ♡ gojo ♡ pet name: baby, princess, cuddling, early morning banter, frottage, v! fingering. ♡ nanami ♡ food cw, he wears a cute lil apron and you show up wearing only his shirt, v! fingering. ♡ geto ♡ pet name: angel, morning wood, early morning stretch, daddy kink. ♡ naoya ♡ pet name: kitten, consensual somnophilia, cunnilingus, kinda rough, squirting in his mouth sorry not sorry <3 ♡ toji ♡ pet name: sweetheart, consensual somnophilia, waking him up by giving head, 69.

LINKS. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST

♥︎ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ♥︎

ੈ♡‧₊˚ GOJO SATORU

“Satoru, can I tell you something?” You lightly trace your finger down his face. The tips of his eyelashes feel ridiculously soft to the touch, not to mention his glossy lips- ones that have explored your own and your body so thoroughly just a few hours ago, you’ve memorized its shape at this point. His mouth slightly opens when you graze his bottom lip with your thumb. Through his pearly white teeth, warm breath fans the tip of your finger as his chest rises and falls in sync with his light snoring.

“Hm?” For the first time, you’re hit with his raspy morning voice - one you can definitely find yourself getting used to. He catches your hand, peppering lazy, half-asleep kisses at the back of it. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just- I’m insanely attracted to you, that’s all,” you whisper and his eyes light up at the sudden confession. You haven’t been together long so you saying something like this out of the blue is more than enough to take him aback. Next thing you know, big strong arms wrap around you, piling your weight on top of him.

“This feels nice,” he breathes, sleep finding its way back to his eyes, and you can feel his breaths slow down as he drifts off again.

Flick. “Hey, wake up. Need to hear that voice again.” You lightly flick a finger to his forehead and his eyes flutter open for a few seconds. But that wasn’t enough to fully wake him.

“Can’t. You’re so warm. So soft,” he mutters, tightening his grip around you. He shifts a little, trying to nestle the back of his head into his pillow as he shuts his eyes. “Could stay like this all day long.”

You lean closer to his face, studying his sleeping profile. How could anyone be this perfect? Most people wake up with bed heads, dried up drool on their chin, troll-like attitude, and crusty eyes. Not Gojo Satoru. He’s an angel. He wakes up in the morning looking as if he had a 30-minute head start to his daily skincare routine. As if he even needs one.

“Sooo soft,” he mutters once more, squeezing your sides.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news you big pervert but you have to get ready for class.”

“Wrong!” He jolts awake. “That’s not something someone ‘insanely attracted’ to me would say.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I’m insanely attracted to you as well, and I say ‘5 more minutes’. Actually, make that an hour.”

You try to brush off his comment, pretending as if heat didn’t just rush to your cheeks at what you’d call a poor attempt at banter. A lie, because of course he’s an expert. “Come on you big baby. Wake up.”

“45 minutes, baby.” A big hand reaches underneath your shirt, soothing your bare back.

“Think you’re being slick, huh?”

“Mmm, shut up and come closer.”

“15 minutes?” you suggest, legs straddling his sides, pussy grinding on his half-hard cock as you draw hearts on his jaw, his hands finding their way to your bare ass.

“Hmm, 30.” He groans and you feel his cock twitch underneath, his hands grabbing the fat of your ass.

“You’re a bad negotiator- mmf.” You purr when he spreads your ass, walls clenching at the slight stretch.

“The worst. So, 30? Actually no. 30 is a done deal if you throw in a little kiss.”

“Deal—”

“On second thought…” his fingers slide down your folds, your mouth pops into an ‘o’ and you know for sure you’re done for the second he slides two digits into your slippery hole. “How ‘bout we make it 30 minutes after round 2?”

You’re definitely going to have to stay in all morning.

ੈ♡‧₊˚ NANAMI KENTO

A wave of confusion hits you when you’re awoken by the sound of something that dropped in a pan, aroma of something frying filling the room. Your eyes dart to the door slightly left open and you’re suddenly aware of the empty space beside you.

You try to look for the clothes you discarded last night but they’re nowhere to be found. So of course, you go for the next best thing.

Coming into the kitchen, you’re met with your partner’s broad and bare back, and your eyes immediately dart to the white lace-trimmed ribbon tied around his waist.

Clad only in pajama pants and that frilly little apron you gifted him as a joke, one that has a pretty pink ‘kiss the chef’ embroidered text at the front, Nanami is way too preoccupied with preparing breakfast for two.

You whistle in a way that’s too flirty for his comfort. Nanami looks over his shoulder, eyes trailing your form up and down, staring way too long at where his signature blue button-down ends just slightly above your upper thighs.

“Careful, your hashes are about to burn.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, completely turning off the heat as he makes his way towards you.

“You’re not gonna finish that? Aren’t you going to—” he doesn’t let you finish when he captures your mouth, pulling you into a deep kiss. His hands reach underneath the hems of your (his) shirt, finding your slick folds before pumping you silly with two of his fingers.

“Nope, I’m suddenly craving something else. Sit on the counter, now.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ GETO SUGURU

You’re woken up by the sound of an alarm. Looking at the clock, it reads ‘7:00 am’ and you’re surprised to find a heavy arm around your waist and something hard pressed up against your ass.

You shift to turn off his alarm, to which Geto’s eyebrows furrow, protesting over your sudden escape from his hold. “Come back here,” he groans, voice a tad deeper than his usual key, swiftly pulling you close to his bare chest.

“You sound so sexy,” you whisper, planting lazy kisses on his nose and on his lips, his erection leaking something warm on your stomach.

“Really? You sounded sexier last night. Need to hear you screaming my name again, angel.” He reaches down, knuckles sliding across your slit as you feel his fist pumping his cock at the same time. For the first time, you’re oriented with what mornings with Geto are like.

The head of his cock runs through your slick folds before finding your hole. You purr at the friction as he enters you, giving a whole new meaning to ‘early morning stretches.’

“Ohh, ohh~” you hum. Your core grows heavy with need, forcing you to try to bounce on his cock, clit grinding against his abdomen as you hold onto his bicep.

“So impatient.” Geto chuckles at your eagerness. “Want daddy to pay attention to your clit?”

“Daddy, daddy, n-need you to move pleasepleaseplease,” you whine. He hooks your leg around his waist, fingers digging into the fat of your ass as he bottoms out.

“Good morning to you too.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ NAOYA ZEN’IN

You think maybe you’re having one of those dreams. The best kind- one where a warm, wet muscle runs across your puffy slit before sliding in and out of your hole. It feels so hot, so good. Too hot, too good, you feel an orgasm coming-

“Fuuuck,” you cuss breathily, whines choking back a wake up yawn, and your body arches to the sensation in your pussy in place of an early morning stretch. Your eyes blink away the sleep in your eyes. Looking down, you find that black and white head of hair you love so much in between your thighs. And he doesn’t stop devouring your pretty cunt even as you mewl through your high. “Fuck, baby, fuck me!”

It’s real and it’s definitely his tongue sucking on your throbbing clit, definitely his thick fingers relentlessly fucking your wet velvet walls, definitely your pussy squelching from how good his tongue and fingers play with you at this ungodly hour.

“Grrood, mm-you’re-mm-awake,” he talks as if he’s speaking to your pussy, unwilling to part from your sweet little cunt even for a second. He was also like this last night. He told you the taste of your pussy is so damn fucking intoxicating, he could eat you up like a three-course-meal.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop!” Your fingers rake through his locks, making him use his teeth on your pussy just because he knows how much you like it when he gets rough. He feels so good going down on you like this, you just can’t help but squeeze his head between your thighs.

“Babybabybaby, fuuuuck- shit!” You feel your pussy twitch two or three times before he gulps, and with his lips still glued to your pussy, you could feel him release a deep chuckle at how much you came undone. Worry washes all over you, heat rising to your face when you realize what you’d done.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You taste heavenly kitten, do it again.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ FUSHIGURO TOJI

Toji wakes up to an all-familiar feeling around his cock, something that wasn’t uncommon before he had you but now that it is you and your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, one arm propped on his thigh for dear life-

“God, I fucking love you.”

He absolutely adores the sight of your head in the morning bobbing up and down his hard length, ass perked, other hand struggling to play with your cunt.

“C’mere and turn around sweetheart. Show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

Ass still perked, only now it’s dangerously close to his face. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, stretching your juicy, clenching entrance and huffing out hot air before he drags out his tongue to lick stripes on your cunt.

“Rrmfh~” Your mewls are muffled as you’re gagged with the head of his cock. The feeling of his tongue on your pussy tickles something in you that makes you suck on his cock, releasing a pop when your mouth leaves his length.

“Ohh~ T-toji baby-fuck-let’s cum together.”

“So fucking needy.” Toji kisses your clit a couple times before making out with your lips. He alternates between nipping the sensitive bud with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue, driving you insane while your own mouth is stuffed full of his cock.

“I rarely have breakfast, but this is a nice little treat.”

[imaginedisish]

Lover, You Should've Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry. This is based on a request I received yesterday where the reader gets jealous of Jean. I tried to take this in a different direction just because I feel like this is a popular trope that has been done by many fantastic writers. It's also inspired by "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV (unprotected...pls WRAP IT UP THIS IS FICTION!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, f!reader/afab!reader, telepathic!reader, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan (kinda? yeah.), non-canon compliant (you'll see what I mean...no spoilers), cursing, angst, feelings, implied mutant trauma (kinda a given in X-Men), probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,197 sorry

Wanting someone you can’t have—it’s that crying in the shower, pulling your legs into your chest, screaming into your pillow kind of heartache. You’ve come to know the feeling intimately. It’s an awful, horrid, stomach-churning kind of pain.

But you want him. Despite all the pain, you want him. Logan Howlett. You can’t seem to keep him off your mind. For the few months you’ve been one of the X-Men, Logan has been a constant. He’s always there—whether it’s to train or just to talk. But you know he’ll never want you. You see the way he looks at Jean. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were oblivious to that sort of thing. But you don’t need to use your telepathy to reach inside his mind for proof—you just know. 

You keep holding on, savoring every moment, every interaction you have with Logan. You sit on the lawn of the mansion with him, watching the sunset. You’ll come down to the living room late at night to find him sitting in front of the T.V. and join him. Sometimes he’ll drape an arm around your shoulder. He’ll draw circles into your side as you drift off. You’ll wake up the next morning back in your bed, Logan having carried you there long after you’ve fallen asleep. 

You’ve decided you’ll take all he’ll give you, even if it means nothing to him—even if it's platonic. 

But tonight, you wish something would come up through the floor and swallow you whole. A void, a black hole maybe. That would do the trick. Disappearing would make everything so much easier. The second-best thing to disappearing is sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, alone, with a pint of ice cream. You decide to practice your powers, moving the silver spoon with your mind, concentrating as you dig the spoon into the top of the pint and into your mouth. 

You hear a warm, familiar chuckle from the doorway as the spoon lands on your tongue. You look up, and there’s Logan, arms tucked across his chest. “Wish I could do that.”

You can’t help but smile around the spoon as he strides over to you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. You slide the spoon out of your mouth and rest it on the napkin next to the ice cream. “Hey,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

His shoulder brushes against yours. He’s so close it hurts. You try to shove the pain down and enjoy the moment. 

“Was hoping I’d run into you down here. Thought maybe you’d be in bed already,” Logan says, his eyes locked on yours. 

You shake your head, doing your best to keep that fake smile plastered on your face. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You can see the sudden concern appear on his face. “Everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Fuck, you think to yourself. Maybe he’s catching on. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, looking down at the ice cream. “Just still having a hard time adjusting.” It wasn’t a lie. You had always struggled with your powers, longing to hide, to shove them down. Your whole life, you were either a freak or something to be used—whatever was most convenient in the moment. The struggle between visibility and forcing yourself to be “normal” was an impossible battle. You were no stranger to being taken advantage of or being experimented on.

Logan was the first person who understood that—understood you. He made you feel seen in a way that no one ever had. It’s part of the reason you’ve fallen so hard for him. 

His hand is suddenly on your back, yanking you from your thoughts and back to reality. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Whatever you need, anything.” 

Anything. You wish he really meant it. 

“Thanks, Lo.” You smile up at him, letting your eyes linger on his lips for just a second before looking back down at the ice cream. “Want some?” You ask, nodding at the pint. 

“Only if you feed it to me the way you did when I walked in.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he taps the spoon. You side-eye him incredulously. “I mean it. Wanna see you do it again.” There’s a husk in his voice, a shift in his timber that sends a chill down your spine. You try not to think about it too much as you pick up the spoon with your mind. 

You guide the spoon inside the pint, scraping the top, and lifting it up towards Logan’s mouth. He opens wide as you lead the spoon inside, his tongue hitting the bottom as his lips close around it. The implications of the moment don’t dawn on you until he’s grabbing the spoon with his hands and sucking on the metal. There’s something undeniably suggestive about this. 

Heat rises to your chest as you replay the image of him taking the spoon into his mouth in your mind. It’s so intimate, so domestic. And, certainly, something else—something that makes you tick, that makes that familiar fire grow deep within your belly. 

But—like always—the moment doesn’t last long. You wince, feeling someone itching against your thoughts, prodding at your mental shields, begging to be let in. Suddenly, there’s another voice in your mind. 

I gotta try that myself. You flinch at the sound, taking the spoon from Logan’s hand and shooting it across the room to where you sense the person’s presence. You turn around, and there’s Jean, resisting the spoon’s trajectory with her mind. 

It's almost pressing into her skull, shaking in mid-air, ready to break her skin. You gasp and drop the spoon, embarrassed to have registered her as a threat. “I’m so sorry,” you say, watching as Jean crouches down and picks up the spoon. “I didn’t know that was you in there, I swear.”

You expect Logan to stand from the chair and rush over to Jean, but he stays next to you, glued to your side, the palm of his hand resting gently on your back. “Jean.” His voice is firm, almost cold and harsh. “What was that?” You’re surprised at how curt he’s being with her, surprised he remembered that you’re sensitive to people probing around your mind, even if it’s friendly. 

Jean mutters a curse. “I was just communicating with her. I didn’t think she’d—” 

Logan stands, his hand still steady at your back. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” His voice is louder now, heavier. 

She whispers an apology, setting the spoon on the counter and walking towards the doorway. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered given your…” she pauses, searching for the word, “past…that it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She takes another tentative step. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and she slips out. 

Logan settles back into the stool next to you. You’re shocked that he’s still here, that he hasn’t run away yet. You can hear him breathe—in and out—gentle, long breaths. You close your eyes and listen, the sound calming you down. You’re still expecting him to leave, to walk away, but he doesn’t. 

“You okay?” He asks, your eyes fluttering open, his voice hanging in the air. His head is tilted to the side, worry painted across his face. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you stutter, your voice cracking. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go check on her if you want.” You nod towards the doorway—to wherever Jean wandered off to. 

“And why would I do that?” Is all he says in return, furrowing his brows. 

You put on that fake smile again. “I almost jammed a spoon into her forehead because she spoke to me telepathically.” You shake your head. “Don’t really think my reaction was particularly friendly—or something that good people do.” You break eye contact with Logan and look to the other side of the kitchen. “Plus, you two are…close.”

“Hey.” His voice is firm again, but gentle this time, reassuring. His hand slips across your back and rests on your waist. You’re so shocked by the contact that you almost miss what he says. “First of all, she knows better. Charles warned her about what you’ve been through. And second…” He trails off, smirking at you. “I’d rather be with you.”

Oh? Oh. He’d rather be with you. 

“I just thought, you know, you and Jean were…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence and too nervous to hear him say the words you’ve been dreading most. 

He shakes his head, that smirk still spread across his lips. “No, it’s not Jean I want. Never has been.” 

Your breathing becomes shaky—your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “If it’s not Jean, then—” 

Logan cuts you off as he suddenly moves. His arm lifts from your waist as he stands, turning your stool around so your back is against the cold countertop. He’s gripping the arms of the stool now, caging you in. Your mind is hazy—you can’t concentrate with him this close. 

“You think I do the shit I do with you with Jean too, hm?” He’s towering over you, his head cocking to the side, his voice self-assured and confident. “Think I’m watching movies and sunsets with her? Carrying her to bed, too?” 

You’re overwhelmed, dizzied by his words, his size, him. “Just thought that—”

“Just thought what?” He cuts you off again. “That I didn’t want you, darlin’?” He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, one hand moving from the counter to your hip. “Wanted you this whole time,” he huffs, goosebumps rising on your arms. “Only you.” He presses a kiss to your ear, and then just underneath your jaw. 

“Logan,” you whisper. “W-want you too,” you choke out, your hands coming up and around his back. “B-but someone’s gonna walk in on us.” 

He’s ignoring you, biting your pulse point lightly and licking the pain away. “Let them,” he husks, refusing to stop. You instinctively bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging in slightly. He groans at the contact, his chest heaving against yours. 

“One of the kids is catch us in here, or somebody else,” you mutter, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “W-we should—”

“Go to my room.” He finishes your thought. 

“Please.” 

And then he’s picking you up from the chair, his hands under your thighs, grabbing your ass. You wrap your legs around his waist as he prowls out of the kitchen. He looks both ways as he crosses the hallway and makes his way to the stairs. There’s no one in sight. He carries you up the steps and down the hall to his room, practically breaking down the door as he swings it open and slams it shut. 

And then he’s laying you down on his bed, crawling over you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanted you in here sooner,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours. “Hoped you’d come over one night. You should’ve.”

His lips crash down onto yours before you can find the words to say. He’s starving for you, swallowing your moans as his hands slip under your shirt, his nails digging lightly into your sides. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps against your lips. Everything is desperate and rushed, hands pawing at bare skin in the dim light of his room. 

Logan tugs on the hem of your shirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the side as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He curses under his breath, looking you up and down. 

“Logan,” you whine, arching your back. You need his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, his fingers hooking inside the waistband of your shorts. “Gonna take care of you.” He yanks them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties. 

He pulls off his own shirt, tossing it carelessly, letting it get lost on the floor. He settles back down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand finds your waist. He slides up to the bottom of your bra, teasingly pulling on the fabric before slipping his hand behind your back—skillfully unclasping the bra with one easy motion. You arch your back again, the bra straps sliding down your arms as Logan tosses the bra to the floor, too. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect.” He captures your lips in another kiss as his thumb ghosts over your nipples, just barely giving you the relief you need before pinching softly. The pressure feels so good, so right, but it’s not enough. 

He draws circles around your nipples with his thumb, the sensation feeding the aching fire between your legs. Your hips involuntarily lift off the mattress, meeting his. “Need me that bad, huh?” He is always so incredibly cocky, even now—especially now. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and what to do next. 

Logan grinds his erection into your core. You can feel how big he is, the weight of him heavy against your cunt even in his jeans. You clench around nothing, whining his name as his strained cock teases your panty-clad pussy. “You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, biting your lips as his hand leaves your tits and sweeps down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He slides his fingers down just a bit more, feeling where your arousal seeps through your panties. 

“Already soaking for me, sweetheart.” The bassy timber of his voice stokes that flame deep within your belly. Without warning, he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanking them down your legs. “Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kisses your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travels to where you need him most. 

There’s something depraved about the way he’s crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spreads your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settles in between them. 

He pauses, looking at you under hooded eyes. You can see the want—no, the need—in the way his muscles flex and how he works his jaw. But he’s hesitating, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your eyes searching his for his next move. 

He finally presses a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbles against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You throw your head back, whimpering his name as he laps again and again. He’s starving, and you’re the only thing that can satiate his hunger. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard. 

Your hips lift off the mattress and Logan quickly moves to hold them down. “You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” he grunts against you, the vibration of his voice going straight to your core. 

His free hand slips up the inside of your thighs, teasingly climbing higher and higher, his nails skimming your flesh. He’s toying with you, leading you on, taking his time. His fingers finally ghost over your folds, exploring you, stroking up and down as his tongue laps at your cunt. 

Logan prods your entrance with two fingers, slipping in just a bit, testing the waters. “Please,” you beg, pushing your hips down in an attempt to sink his fingers deeper into you. He stops you, his hand still firmly holding your hips down, refusing to give you the release you’re dying for. 

“So fucking impatient, aren’t you?” He tuts. And then he’s shoving two fingers all the way inside you, down to his knuckles. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“F-fuck!” You cry out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets a relentless pace. He’s drinking you in, sucking roughly, his long fingers pumping in and out with a vengeance. 

“’This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks condescendingly in between laps. You’re too fucked out to form a sentence, your legs trembling underneath him. You know he’s loving this—loving that you’re a wet, needy, whimpering mess. 

Your walls squeeze around his fingers, your swollen clit throbbing as he laps at you. You’re so close already. “Lo,” you call out, fisting the sheets of his bed. Everything in here smells like him: pine and mint and musk and tobacco and that thing that’s uniquely Logan. It’s all so overwhelming and overstimulating. You’re ready to fall apart, to melt into nothingness. “S-so close.”

He squeezes your hip. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion he does so well. Your walls flutter again. “That’s it,” he coos. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He licks harder, faster. “Let go for me, darlin’.” 

He pushes you over the edge, pleasure warming your belly as you let go. It washes over you in waves, his fingers still pumping in and out, his tongue still hanging on to the taste of you. You ride it out, his thumb brushing your hip, coaxing you through it. His fingers slip out of your cunt, but his head is still buried between your legs. You shudder as he licks long, slow stripes through your folds. 

“So fucking sweet,” he growls, still starving for more. “Not done with you yet.”

Fuck. 

But you need more—need his cock deep inside you, pounding into you. You need him in front of you, his lips on yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, your voice shaky and trembling just like the rest of your body. He finally lifts his head, his hair a disheveled mess, your juices glistening on his lips and his chin. The sight of him makes your breath hitch in your throat. There’s a feral, needy look in his eyes. He’s starving for more of you, and you’re not quite sure he’ll ever get enough. 

But he can see your chest heaving and the desire in your own eyes. He knows what you need—he always does. He sits up on his knees, staring at you while he slowly unbuckles his belt. The tension is palpable, the clinking of his belt against the hardwood floors cutting through it like a hot knife—the only sounds the melding of your quick breaths and the shuffling of bed sheets as Logan finally comes up to meet you. 

He's balancing on his forearm as he unbuttons his jeans, undoing the zipper and shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs. You swallow at the sight of his cock springing against his stomach. You had felt his erection before, but he is far bigger than you ever anticipated. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself in between your thighs. You instinctually spread your legs for him, inviting him in. He nudges against your entrance, taking his time. 

His forehead meets yours, your chests flush against each other’s, panting in sync. You’re both waiting with bated breath, his tip slipping inside, but stopping short before going any farther. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Thought I’d never have you,” he confesses, pushing his tip a bit further in. “Would’ve given up anything for this. Would’ve waited forever.”

“You don’t have to,” you murmur.  “I’m right here. I’m yours.” 

“Mine?”

“All yours.”

And then he’s pushing deep inside you, down to the hilt, bottoming out. He swallows your moans with a kiss, biting your lip, drawing blood, and licking it away. “All fucking mine.” He stays buried inside you, unmoving. “Wanna stay inside you forever, sweetheart,” he growls, your heart bursting at the thought.

He pulls himself all the way out and all the way back in, stretching you out, working you open. You look down in between your bodies and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. “Feels s-so fucking good,” you stammer, already drunk off him. 

“Like watching me fuck into you?” Logan husks, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper. His muscles flex as he ruts into you. He takes the hand that was on his cock and brings it in between your bodies, his fingertips quickly finding your clit and giving it a soft pinch. Your back arches off the mattress at the sensation. 

Logan hums at your reaction. “So sensitive,” he groans. “Taking me so good, sweetheart.” You can feel him losing control as he rams into you, his thrusts growing harder with each pump of his cock. He’s drawing firm, fast circles into your core. 

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his fingers. Your skin is on fire, your nipples pushing against his chest—the friction absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. 

“Know you’re close, darlin’,” Logan moans in between kisses. “Can feel you squeezing me.” 

You hum in response, but Logan refuses to let up. His pace is beyond brutal, pounding into you over and over again, his fingers working your clit in tandem. Your muscles contract around him, gripping tightly. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking warm.” His praises are more than you can handle. “You gonna come on my cock, just like this?” 

“Yes, fuck, Logan!” You’re a babbling mess, his name the only thing on your mind, on your lips, hanging in the air like it’s a sacred prayer. Everything is him, and it always has been. In this moment and in every other, he is your end and your beginning. 

 “Let go for me, sweetheart. Know you can do it for me.” His deep voice is all you need to walk you through it. You’re breaking down, coming on his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, spreading like an untamable fire. 

He’s stroking your clit long after you’ve come, still snapping his hips into yours, still working up towards his own orgasm. His pace is getting sloppier, but he shows no signs of stopping. You can feel yourself growing overstimulated, his cock rubbing against your walls, his fingers circling your clit. “S’too much,” you whine, your nails digging into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Logan presses himself closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’ve got one more in you, sweetheart,” he coaxes, not letting up. “Know you can take it.”

You’re breathless, clinging onto him helplessly. You’re clamping down on him again, taking him deeper than you did before. He’s hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. “Lo,” you whimper. “I’m gonna—”

“I know, darlin’,” he grunts. You can feel him throbbing inside you. “Let it happen, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The tension is snapping again, breaking in half as he pulls another orgasm from you. You shudder as you come for a third time, overstimulated and beyond fucked out. You know he’s close behind, his hips slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours. He slips his hand away from your clit and around your back, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s so intimate, so perfect. 

“F-fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you want me to—”

You hold him closer. “Stay,” you whisper. “Want you inside. Wanna feel you come.”

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, plunging deep inside you, his muscles tensing as he fills you up, your name on his lips. His thrusts slow, pumping in and out every now and then before finally stopping. 

You stay like this for a few minutes, his arm keeping you tight against his chest, his cock still buried inside you and your foreheads still pressed together. 

He brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 

He shakes his head. “I always wanted you,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “The whole time. It was only ever you.” 

His words could make you cry. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped to hear. You smile, his hand finding its way to the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly stroking your sensitive skin. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it,” you breathe, your voice laden with sleepiness. “I never knew. Thought you’d never want me.”

“I’ll always want you.” His cock finally slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty. His legs tangle with yours, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Would’ve waited forever for you, darlin’.”

“Forever?”

“Longer.”

[tonycries]

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[chocum]

KARMA !

— brat taming the jjk men feat. choso kamo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro.

WARNINGS. femdom!reader, f!reader (she/her), brat taming, cock slaps, crying, handjob, choking, p in v, riding, overstim, lingerie, lollll slotted toji out :33, recording, finger sucking. ( 2k ) note. hellloooooo hope u all enjoy this. i had fun writing bc i loveee the idea of making big strong men crumble mhmhmhm. anywaysss reblogs are appreciated thank youuu love u all. repost bc last night it didn’t show in the tags 💔 but i edited it and added alottt so if you already saw it feel free to read again !! ty

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 CHOSO KAMO

“ma— make m— ooohh fuck. wai—wait” his voice trembled so cutely that it was barely coherent, crumbling into a pretty whine that drowns out his pathetic attempt (if you could even call it that) at being a defiant little brat, making you giggle, your slicked up thumbs pushing and rubbing down on the slit of his leaky tip, sending jolts of pain masked as pleasure up his bony spine, “make you?”

immediately he knows he’s fucked up. the air between you growing thick.

he didn’t know what came over him, really. maybe he had been watching too much porn, fantasizing too much, because the idea of getting tamed by you— god, just the thought of getting put in his place, turned him on so much. so, so much.

but having to actually disobey you, he couldn’t. he believes he was only put on this earth to serve you and please you. to be good. his head hurriedly shakes side to side, making each strand of ravened silky hair jump and dance before resting to frame his flushed face, “‘m sorry didn’t me—”

you land a heavy, hard slap to his cock, the sound pounding in his flushed ears blending with the beat of his heart, making his body tense up and jerk underneath you. his breaths come out in ragged little gasps, each one such a struggle as his fuzzy brain short circuits under your warm palms.

it really is cute, you think. cute how easy it is to break him. the pretty tears that drip down his puffed-up, blushed cheeks remind you of that. he’s choking on his sobs when you move to cup his face and kiss the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks. crying and sniffling because he hates when you’re mad. hates disappointing you.

“‘m sorry, i don’t— just wanna be so good for you. i’ll be— wanna be your good boy.”

“i know,” you coo, petting him like the pretty pet he is, “wanna try again for me, hm?”

and oh, he’s nodding so sweetly, cock throbbing for you, his big glassy eyes heart-shaped, staring up. so ready to be yours, ready to be the good boy you’ve trained him to be.

so you tell him again, “fuck my fists, make yourself cum, pretty boy. and look me in my eyes.”

his hips buck up, the salty tears on his cheeks warming and dried as he uses your sticky hands like a fleshlight, whining prettily when you tighten your grip around him, “‘m sorry” he babbles over and over, drooling out the corners of his parted puffy lips.

he’s so good. staring into the blown pupils of your pretty eyes without fault, like you told him to. because you told him to.

and his thighs burn, his legs shaking and trembling against the silky sheets as he gets closer and closer. the pain almost urging him on, “are you gonna cum for me? baby? gonna give it all to me hm?”

“yes, ple— please. please, can i cum can—”

you pull your hands off him.

drawing out the prettiest whine to ever be heard. like a song of the angels. his head falling back against the wooden headboard, hips bucking up in search of something to ease the ache that overwhelms in his tummy. those hot tears making a special reappearance.

“aww baby,” you hum, feigning sympathy, massaging his warm— full, heavy balls, “did you really think you’d get to cum after that, hm? did you?”

his eyes widen in desperation, disappointment. he tries to speak, to plead, to beg, but all that comes out are broken little sobs and whimpers.

the look on his face is almost pitiful. furrowed brows, pout, and his mouth hangs open.

you bend to lean in closer, your breath so warm against the shell of his sensitive ear, “you have to earn it, baby. good boys get rewarded. brats get punished.”

for you, he nods weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he chokes, “i’ll be so good, pro— promise. please, let me cum. let me show you how good i am”

so pretty. your fingers slip down to massage his aching balls, applying just enough pressure to keep him on that edge he loves to dangle over without giving him the sweet, sweet release he craves. “nuh uh, not yet,” you hum softly, your tone both firm but oh so gentle. “show me how much you want it.”

his hips buck up involuntarily, humping the air in search of your grip— relief, eyes locking onto yours, colored irises filled with adoration. he’s completely at your mercy, every nerve and ending in his body on fire, every muscle tensed up in anticipation.

and you can see the struggle in his eyes. it’s really a beautiful sight, and you savor every moment of it. “that’s it,” mumuring, “keep looking at me like that. show me how much you need it.”

his breaths come in short little, ragged gasps, his chest heaving and caving, thighs burning from fucking the air.

but finally, after what feels like an eternity, you decide to grant him some mercy, your hands moving back around his throbbing cock, stroking him just how he likes it, “cum for me, pretty boy,” you command, a soft, seductive purr. “give it all to me.”

with a strangled, gargled cry, he obeys. his body convulsing, every muscle tightening as he finally, finally finds his release, his cum spilling all over your hands in thick, hot, sticky spurts. and he’s so obedient, his eyes remaining locked on yours, even as his vision blurs and fuzes with pleasure.

“there you go,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “such a good boy.”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 KENTO NANAMI

the tie that usually wrapped snug around the collar of nanami’s shirt adding that signature pop of yellow to his suits now decorates his flushed neck, constricting it, the tail of it clutched tightly in your fists as you ride his cock, your hips rolling and jerking against him relentlessly.

thick cum drips down to his balls, pooling underneath him, a swirl of your mess and his. he’s cum two–no, four? he doesn’t even know how many loads he’s stuffed into your warm cunt— or how many you’ve forced and sucked out of him, his cock so sensitive it fucking hurts, every time you snap back down on him sending poky jolts of overstimulation through his entire body.

“fu—fuck, honey, please. i don’t have— ngh— don’t have anything left to give. fuckin’ drained me already— can’t—”

you tug on the silky fabric, making him choke on his words, gargling on warm, foamy spit. his hands reaching to grab at the curve of your waist, but he’s flinching, remembering how you said, no touching. remembering why he’s in the position in the first place.

because he doesn’t listen.

refused to keep his hands to himself, your body begging to be touched, in his words. as if he didn’t take you seriously, just kept grabbing at you, digging his slim fingers into your plush skin.

so, obviously, there’s some sort of misunderstanding .. some sort of disconnect. he must have forgotten who was in charge.

you don’t even give him a response, ignoring the prickly burn in your thighs to fuck him dumb. maybe then, ironically, he’ll learn how to act. each jerk of your hips move to push him further to the edge, to remind him of his place.

his body is weak, just sitting pretty, twitchy, letting you do as you please, sweetly hiccuping under your frame, “hah— please, my fucking god i— i’m sorry” he’s all gone and sucked up, cock crying, drooling pathetic tears of salty cum in your cruel walls. sweat peppering his forehead, slicking the ridges of his chest, making him glisten.

“please, i’m fucking begging i’ll— hah, won’t disobey you again. i’ll— i’ll be good. i’ll be yours”

aw, there it is.

and you hum, stilling your hips, letting his cock fill you all the way up, “mhm that’s all i needed to hear. now give me onee more load. just one. know you can do it pretty boy, give it to me”

even though his body is spent, just the true definition of exhaustion, he responds, his pretty cock twitching inside you as he drags against his own warm cum in your spongy walls. and it doesn’t take long before he��s giving into you. balls so empty, just a few little spurts drooling out, but it feels just as intense, maybe even more than any of his other orgasms. “good boy”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 TOJI FUSHIGURO

“toj’ my pretty boy” your finger draws across the pink lacy lingerie that does a pathetic job of covering his cock. poking out, leaking and drooling all over the fabric, almost ripping through it with just how hard he is, “you look so good like this”

he grunts, blush growing across his cheeks, a deep, deep crimson, turning his head to avoid your gaze, avoid your phone brightly flashing, recording him.

“so hard too, aw” mumuring, you move closer, recording every detail of how he bulges through the set you so perfectly picked out for him. the pink complementing his tanned skin so well, truly a work of art “touch yourself for me”

another grunt escapes his lips, and he’s fidgeting, dragging his balls against the bed, rutting like a fucking dog, pulling at the ropes that hold and confine him, caging him against himself, “need your ..”

“yeah, need what?” you prompt with a smile, watching through your screen how he struggles to say it, pouting as his brows furrow up.

“need your help”

theres a wicked little glint in your eyes, pulling back at the stretchy band of the pretty underwear, letting go so it snaps back against the sensitive underside of his thick cock, making him whine, his broad body shaking and twitching, muscles clenching up.

humming, you bring your palm to his face, telling him to lick, and he listens, immediately.

licking a long stripe up your warm palm, but oh, he gets carried away. stretching to wrap his scarred lips around your fingers, bobbing his head up and down, drool dripping down from around his pursed lips, letting his tongue lay flat. “look at you, so eager”

he comes off with a pop, smirking because he knows you love when he’s so good like this for you.

you press your slick fingers against his covered perky nipples, watching as he twitched, before moving to stoke him through the pretty lingerie, “don’t fu—fucking tease”

you ignore him, let him get away with the little back talk because he just looks toooo cute, eyes all big, looking up into the flash of the camera, leaking through the lingerie like such a pretty boy. all for you.

you flick your wrist faster, leaning to spit on his clothed cock, sending thousands of shivers up the nerves on his spine, making him croon, his ass raising up off the bed to buck into your palms, giving the camera such a good show.

“gonna cum, shit— i’m so close. fuck— please”

he’s babbling, his voice all high and whiney.

“mhm go ahead, baby”

with a final, desperate thrust, he’s shooting against the fabric, babbling your name as it oozes through making a sticky little mess before you’re leaning down to lap at his clad tip. to clean him up.

then you come off him, stopping the video. and tojis looking up at you through glassy eyes as you press against your phone, smiling.

“what— hah, what are you doing”

“sending it to shiu”

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 ❞

❝ BEING PROF. GETO'S T.A. IS SO HARD BECAUSE HE'S SO HOT!! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part two of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you're now professor geto's t.a. for the semester, forced to spend time with the man that you so desperately want, either of you barely able to hold back when you're around the other, so what happens when you're forced to go to a conference with him...and there's only one bed.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (mostly fantasy), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student in my mind, but age is vague, so much mutual pining, bed sharing, cuddling, masturbation (f + m), oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), semi public sex (sorta), office sex (kinda), amateur's take on moral philosophy and ethics, art by @/nino84391425

✧ wc: 16,821 (apparently i am writing a novel lol) | part one | part three | part four

“On time for once?” Professor Suguru Geto remarks without looking up from his notes on the podium, even as your footsteps echo in the empty lecture hall, “color me surprised,” 

“Couldn’t be late on my first day as a teacher’s assistant, now could I?” and his lips curl in that damnable smile, as he finally glances up from his notes to see you looking far too gorgeous in his button up — one you had oh so generously relieved him of last night, pilfered away in your bag seemingly. 

“But you could be late on your first day as a student?” and you lick your lips, as you draw closer to him, “seems like you’re quite the hypocrite, not very ethical,” 

“Don’t think what we did last night was very ethical either,” you murmur, enjoying the way his dark eyes glaze over for a moment with the thoughts what you both did — the places touched, the moans heard, and the pleasure had — “plus, I definitely have an incentive to be on time now,” your fingers graze his, and why does his touch always feel like coming home. 

“And what’s that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, running the back of his hand against your cheek. 

“Your gorgeous face,” you smile, leaning close as your lips brush, “and some stolen kisses before class,” 

“And what makes you think you’ve earned them, my favorite student?” He teases, as his fingers slide to the back of your neck, and his other hand snakes around your waist, tugging you close. 

“Oh, I have a few ways to earn them, Professor,” your fingers drag down his chest, “but I don’t know if we have the time before class to—“ 

And his lips find yours — needy and bruising, as your fingers clutch at his shirt, the pressed fabric now definitely creased under your touch, “we’ll make time,” he murmurs, as he leans back to drag his thumb down your plush lips, “I still have many things to teach you, and what time is there like the present?” 

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to your lips— 

RING. RING. RING. 

Your eyes snap open, a groan crawls its way out of your throat, as you fumble for your phone to silence the dreaded ringing. You lie back on your bed, a distinct ache between your legs that makes you squirm, and only want to bury yourself back into your bed and possibly the reality that existed within only your dreams. 

But this was sadly reality, and you had about two hours before your first class as a teacher’s assistant for Professor Suguru Geto’s ethics and moral philosophy class. And two hours before you would see Professor Geto for the first time since you had made out. 

You turn over, pressing your face into your pillow. You wondered if you tried hard enough, if you could suffocate yourself before then. 

Probably not. That would be far too lucky. 

~~~

Professor Suguru Geto couldn’t sleep — instead he spent his time staring at his ceiling, the blades of his fans spinning above him, just like his mind was — in circles. It was as if he almost didn’t want to risk his dreams taunting him, it was the same reason he had buried himself in research over the semester break, the same reason he had put off emailing you the materials for the semester, and the same reason he hadn’t seen you since that day you had kissed. 

It was too much of a risk. 

You were risk personified, even for a risk averse theologian he liked to think himself as. But you were the thing of myths, the dangled food for Tantalus, the far too warm sun for Icarus, and the promise of gold for King Midas. But you were not a myth — you were real, his student made of flesh and bone, the same flesh he had pressed into his desk just a few short weeks ago, his legs parting your thighs, his fingers itching to rip your pantyhose off your legs— 

He sighed, this wasn’t helping — his bedside clock blinked back at him mockingly — he only had a few hours before his first class. He should try to sleep even a little. So he did, shutting his eyes, and hoped he wouldn’t dream of you. 

But he couldn’t possibly be that lucky. 

How many times have you stood in front of this office door? Your Professor, to which this office belongs, would joke that it was far too many to count — and you’d be better speculating how many times that Sisyphus rolled the boulder up the same hill. But the last time you had been in it was the thing that made you hesitate now. 

But that was your entire relationship wasn’t it? A game of chicken, wondering who would hesitate first — and neither of you were the type to hold back. Except when it came to this — except when it came to your feelings for the other. 

You shake your head, trying to shake your anxious thoughts free of their eternal bounce around your skull, and grit your teeth before finally knocking. 

“I’m actually right here,” a voice behind you says, making you jump, as you whip around, nearly pressed against his office door. And now you stood face to face with the man who owned it.

And how was it that every time you saw him, he was achingly more perfect than the time before? His ebony hair was half down, black locks brushing against his shoulders, the rest tied up in a neat bun. A crisp white button up underneath a neutral toned knit sweater vest, the shirt very much like the one you had stolen in your dream. 

Perfect. 

“Professor Geto,” you offer a small smile, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, instead of drifting over his form, “it’s good to see you,” 

“It’s good to see you as well, and so prompt,” he says, brushing past you to unlock his office, “made a habit of being on time these days?” 

“Well, when your professor reprimands you in front of the entire class, you try to make a habit of being on time,” why did it feel like your dream was repeating yet again? It’s not as if your relationship with him wasn’t cyclical enough — life imitating dreams was almost far too much. He opens the door for you, letting you enter first, before he follows you in, “and aren’t you the late one this time?” 

His lips quirk, as he rounds his desk, and takes a seat, “You really can’t make it a conversation with me without giving me shit, huh?” 

“Language,” you chide, as you sit across from him, “not very appropriate for an academic setting,” and you have to bite back the want to say that you’ve done plenty of inappropriate things in this office the last time you both were here. 

“Well, our track record isn’t known for being very appropriate, now is it?” Or maybe you didn’t need to say it, because the way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. But that didn’t mean either of you would act on it. He licked his lips, mouth parted to say something, his gaze heavy. 

And the moment is broken when his email goes off — you squeeze your bag a little tighter, as you busy yourself with digging through your bag for the materials to go over. That sound was nearly traumatizing in this office, not only did it usually signal the start of some assignment you had to trudge your way through — it also was the sound that had ended your relationship before it even really began. 

“Class starts in an hour, so I thought we could have this meeting just to review the syllabus and see if you have any questions — as well as just overall any questions you had about being a T.A.,” he explains, pressing his pen to his lips, “I understand this is your first time being a T.A.?” 

“It is, I hadn’t really considered it until the department head approached me about that,” and he nods, a flash of emotion that surfaces for only a moment before dissipating, “what will my responsibilities be?” 

“Good question,” a smile pulls the corners of his lips, “obviously, as a T.A., you will have office hours that you can decide with your own discretion—” 

“So it’s okay if I have them once a month at 3:00 AM?” and he rolls his eyes as you bite your lip at the sight — why was everything he did so effortlessly attractive? 

Fucking unfair. 

“Witching hour, how apt,” he murmurs, as he tilts his head, “but they should be weekly, as I’m sure you know, and held not in the middle of the night, when nights should be used for other things,” and you have to bite back your reply, like what? 

And then he continues to explain, “You can also help with some grading — mostly entering grades online for me since you know I love to handgrade,” 

“Oh yes, truly enjoyed having my self-esteem cut to shreds after receiving a paper back,” you scribbled notes down in your notebook, “glad I won’t be on the receiving end this time,” 

“If you’re good, that is,” and you knew it slipped from his lips — from the way his lips parted, the way his body froze for half a second as if he had shocked himself — and he had, because the spark between you two remained, a weed stubbornly cracking through concrete, “sorry—’ 

“You don’t have apologize,” you shake your head, waving him off, “it’s really fine,” 

“It’s not,” he said softly, placing the syllabus down on the desk, “I know we agreed to keep our relationship professional,” 

“We did,” Yes, you both did — sort of. 

“And I want us to do that—” 

And you ask the question you weren’t brave enough to ask the last time you two had seen each other, “Why is that again?” 

When the email had come, it was as if a spell had broken — the rosy colored lenses had come off, only to leave the hard glare of reality behind. Your limbs still entangled while you both reread the email off of his screen — as if it would say something different the millionth time over. 

It didn’t. 

And then the awkward clamor of disengaging, slow limbs pulling apart, as the warmth of his embrace left as quickly as it had come. Silence as the two of you let the news settle in, like a noose tightening around your necks, and you slowly slid off his desk. 

“If I’m your T.A.,” you had said slowly, adjusting the skirt of your dress, “we can’t do this, can we?” and he had only nodded, his gaze unable meet yours, fixed to the rug on the floor of his office, and he could only muster two words as you brushed past him and gathered your things—

“I’m sorry.” 

But even so, you couldn’t remember why it was a bad idea? Why was it so wrong for the two of you to do this? What difference did it make that you were his T.A.? It was still against the rules either way — it was still unethical either way — so why, why did it matter? 

But he knew why, from the way his brow creased with lines and his lips pursed and the way his eyes yet again couldn’t quite reach yours — as if you’d spot something in them that he didn’t want to see. 

“Because we’re going to working together all semester long, with students in class who will see us each week,” he licked his lips, leaning back in his chair, “because it was already problematic if we saw each other without any classes or connection, but now — if you’re my T.A. and my girlfriend, how would I even properly supervise you?” and he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as he blows air through his teeth, before his voice grows softer, “how would I focus on guiding you and our students if I’m too busy gazing into your eyes or staring at your lips or wanting to—” he cuts himself off, “you know it’s not a good idea,  most of our students probably wouldn’t notice, but rumors spread and it takes one good rumor to ruin your career,” and he adds, “with how things work, you don’t need me to tell you why it would be worse for you than me, even if I tried to take responsibility,” 

And you did know, knew very well that rumors got out that the two of you were together that nothing would happen to his reputation — perhaps he would be scrutinized a bit more, some judgment and side-eye from other professors and higher ups, but he wouldn’t get vilified like you would. Called a slut or a whore — and those would be some of the kinder names you’d be called, and you can’t imagine what it would do for your career, especially if you stay in academia. And then the rumors would fester and grow, more wondering where your grades came from — whether you had obtained them through honeyed words whispered over pillows and rumpled sheets instead through late nights spent at your desk and weekends practically living at the library. 

“I do know,” you said quietly. But it didn’t mean you wanted to do it anymore than you had that day. A part of you wished he had stopped you when you had turned to leave his office, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into his arms—but this was hardly a romance novel, “and you’re right,” 

He still has his gaze fixed anywhere but your face, settling his syllabus on his desk now, the silence familiarly filling the room yet again, muscles tense if your body didn’t know whether to flee or to draw closer. 

So you did neither, and instead broke the silence. 

“So would T.A.-ing provide an opportunity for me to teach the class?” and he blinks, eyes snapping up now, as a glimpse of sadness slips away behind his now thoughtful expression. 

“Would you want to do that? I don’t know if I could allow you to lead an entire class, only because some students may take some issue with another grad student teaching them—” 

“I don’t blame them with the tuition costs,” you mutter, and he nods, “don’t nod, it’s your salary I’m paying for,” 

He laughs, a noise you wished you could bottle because you knew it’d be the same as bottling happiness, “Well worth your money after how much your writing and understanding of moral philosophy and ethics has improved,” and you roll your eyes. 

“I see your ego is the same as ever,” and his lips curl, as he crosses his legs, and you fight the cruel temptation of your gaze flickering a little downward. 

“Well, Kant did say an ego is necessary to understand the world meaningfully and therefore act in a moral way,”  you tilt your head, being defensive with philosophy? That was a new one. 

But you weren’t one to let things go — as he very well knew. 

“And he also said that an ego can lead you astray from living a moral life if we become too self absorbed,” and he raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you calling me self absorbed?” 

You bite back a laugh, “Well, you are certainly self interested,” and you gesture around his office, “look at this office,” 

“What about my office?” he gapes at you, and you snort, you’ve seemingly struck a nerve by how wide his jaw dropped. 

“It’s a little…pretentious,” and dare you say it, your professor had a touch of pink painted across his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, 

God he’s even pretty when he blushes. 

“I’m just teasing Professor,” and then you add, “it’s one of my more tedious qualities,” 

And he blinks, before his lips curl in the smile you never tired of seeing, “not tedious, more irritating,” 

You chuckle, before trying to get back on topic, “So you think you could work out me teaching a part of the class?” 

And he nods, “Let me discuss it with the department head — it should be fine,”

“Do I have any other responsibilities?” 

“If it doesn’t conflict with your schedule, you can also attend some classes, students can stay after and ask you questions as well,” and you nod, looking over his class times in the syllabus. 

“I can make the Tuesday one,” and he makes a note, as you rise, “we should go. Don’t want to be late for the first class now do we?” 

And he smiles the same damnable smile, “That would be a terrible first impression,” and his shoulder brushes yours as he opens his office door for you, “after you,” 

God, you thought as you stepped past him, the warmth from the brush of his body still there, this was going to be a long semester. 

If there was one thing you had learned from being a teacher’s assistant for Professor Geto’s class, it was that the students were even more desperate for your professor’s attention than you had thought. You thought your introduction had went relatively well — besides the pointed glares of several….enthusiastic students. 

After his detailed overview of the class, he reaches the resources section of the course syllabus, “Now, I am available at my listed office hours, in which you can make an appointment online. There’s also tutoring services through the university listed as well. And lastly, we have a T.A. for this class, for the very first time,” and he smiles, “Class, please meet your T.A. for this semester,” Professor Geto says your name and gestures to you, sat up in the corner of the lecture hall, and you stand, waving, “your T.A. took this very class last semester and showed great grit and dedication in the class assignments,” you have to stop yourself from shooting him a look, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips, “She is also a philosophy student, so please, feel free to reach out to her,” 

“Thank you Professor Geto for that…generous introduction,” your pause was slight enough that he caught it, a smile tucked behind an all too fake cough, “I really look forward to working with you all — this class truly had a great impact on my perspective about the world,” and you catch a flicker of an emotion ripple across his face out of the corner of your eye, “my office hours will be posted soon, and I hope we can get to know each other well over the course of this semester.” 

You sit as the students cast their gaze forward again, and the class continues on as usual. You make use of your time by reading for some of your other classes, until class was over. 

And that’s when you really learned something. As requested, you joined Professor Geto at the bottom of the lecture hall to help field questions from the students. 

Except, the students were far more interested in Professor Geto than they were in the course material. 

But maybe it was simply because it was the beginning of the semester right? It couldn’t happen again right? 

It was a good thing you weren’t getting graded because you would earned yourself a zero. As again, the next week, students were only interested in Professor Geto — whether it was because it was for his intellect or — you glanced at the students mooning over him — something else. 

Something you knew very well. 

You were forced to watch a female student flutter her eyelashes, then another brush against him, as she showed him what passage was confusing her, and then another student couldn’t stop staring at his lips. And then you wonder, if it had been another student who kept pestering him week after week, would it have been them instead of you? Would they have shared those moments together? Maybe even they would actually gotten to be in a relationship, instead of watching other people flirt with him—

“Excuse me,” your eyes snap up from your reverie and you see two students, seemingly waiting to speak to you. 

Those students had seemingly taken pity on you and spoke to you about the class, tips, and asked about your office hours. But soon enough, the students filed out one by one until it was just you and Professor Geto. And he’s collecting his things, as he glances at you, lingering still as you check your email on your phone, “Don’t you have class after this?” 

You blink, “how’d you know that?” 

And he’s straightening his notes to place back in his bag, before he turns to look at you over his shoulder, “well you’d always rush off after class so it was either you had class or you didn’t want to be alone with me,” he looks back to his bag and you hear the click of the zipper, “I was hoping it would be the former,” he adds. 

“Well, I never lingered after class when I was taking it either,” you adjust your bag, toying with the strap — why was it anytime you were with him it felt like stepping into quicksand, the more you struggled, the more you sunk — and even if you didn’t move at all, you were still stuck all the same, “didn’t want to get in the way your students stroking your ego,” 

And he raises an eyebrow, “Are we back to my ego again?” 

“I don’t see you shying away from smiles and praise from your students,” and his brow knits together, as he places his bag down on the podium, “no wonder your ego is so large,” 

“What students?” 

“Oh please, the ones swarming your desk after clsss. Didn’t you ever wonder why so many students from different disciplines take your class?” he opens his mouth and then you add, “and don’t say philosophy and ethics apply to every aspect of life,” 

And then he seems to consider the thought, as before his lips curl, as he leans against the podium. 

“Am I detecting some jealousy?” he smirks, and you pause before you scoff — far too quickly. 

“No,” and he only smiles wider. 

He chuckles, “That was convincing. I’m glad your ability to teach is much better than your ability to lie,” 

“I’m not—“ 

“Jealous or not,” and you have to bite back your retort, his gaze freezing you in place, a softness you hated to see — because you didnt know whether it made you want to push him away or pull him close, “there’s only ever been one student who caught my eyes,” 

Ah, there is was — you were sinking again. 

“Really?” you mumble, crossing your arms, “not even one other? You have a habit of unethical behavior for an ethics professor,” 

He’s grabbing his bag, before he’s taking a step forward to whisper, “Only when it comes to you,” and you have to force yourself not shiver at his words warming your skin, “I’ll see you next week,” 

And he’s gone — as you stand in the empty lecture hall next to the podium, the very one from your first dream— and you’re right back where you started. 

Professor Suguru Geto wasn’t the type to make mistakes. He was always meticulous and methodical — he used the very principles to help guide his life — because it gave him a moral framework, a way to interpret the world and his own actions. That’s what had drawn him to ethics in the first place. But then he met you. 

And it seems like he’s made nothing but mistakes since. 

He sat in his office after he practically fled the classroom, forcing his pace to be normal, hoping you didn’t see the flush on his face. Fuck, he tossed the pen he had picked up to start grading away, what was he doing? 

He had told himself it was for the best — again and again when he watches you leave at the end of the last semester. He held his muscles taut as he watched you gather your things, stepping over the crushed pieces of both of your hearts. The two words he had barely choked were the only ones he could manage before he watched his office door shut behind you. 

It was for the best. It was for the best. It was for the best. 

That sentence was on repeat in his mind as he tried to work on his paper over the break — “try” being the operative word. It felt as if even his work hadn't been untouched by you — your impact widespread and all consuming — just as your actual touch was. 

Fuck, he rakes his fingers through his hair, how was he going to survive this week much less this semester? 

He couldn’t afford to be selfish — for your sake and his own. But it didn’t mean he didn’t want to be. He runs a hand over his face — he all but blatantly admitted that he had feelings for you after class. After promising to keep things professional — he was the worst. 

He only wished he was worse enough to do what you both wanted when you asked him in his office why you both couldn’t be together. He wanted to tell you the reasons why you should be — because he couldn’t stop thinking about you despite never seeing you over the break, his heart nearly stopped when he saw you standing in front of his office, and because he couldn’t help but smile when he could see you hesitating in front of the door — but he couldn’t help but smile when it came to you. But he didn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

But he also couldn’t help but toe that damn line in the sand, the one that he had drawn, but the one so desperately wanted to cross. 

And then there was a knock at his door, he sighs, “Come in,” 

The department head enters his office, as Suguru blinks before he gets to his feet to offer his hand, as they exchange greetings, before gesturing for him to sit, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I saw your email about having your T.A. teach part of your class, and I wanted to get a little more detail about it,” Suguru nods, his face composed, but his body tense — paranoia scratching at the back of his mind, no one happened to see them kiss had they? No one was on campus really at that point. And the door was closed — he probably just wanted more information.  

“What questions did you have?” and the department head runs down his list — what topic would you cover? How much class time would it take? Would he be asking the class first? Would he review your materials beforehand? 

“Well, you both seemed to have thought a lot about this,” he leans back, crossing his leg over the other, “I think having her teach a part of a class is fine, but I would like you both to do it sooner rather than later,” and Suguru opens his mouth, but then he adds, “and I’d like to attend that class,” 

Suguru tilts his head, “You would like to attend my class?” He considers his words carefully, “I was under the impression, based on the rules, the only thing needed to allow a T.A. to teach was the approval of the department head,” his anxiety begins to pick away at his nerves, “it’s not unusual for a T.A. to teach here correct?” 

It was his first time having a teacher’s assistant at this university so perhaps this was a quality check? To ensure both you and him were meeting the standards of the university — and his anxiety added, and to make sure no rules were being broken by either of you. 

“Yes, it’s not unusual, and I have my reasons which I’ll discuss with you after the class,” he checks the time and rises from his seat now, “I have another meeting soon — do you think she can present in two weeks?” 

Suguru hesitates, “I’ll have to ask her but most likely that should be fine,” 

“Okay please send an email cc’ing her and confirm the details,” he says his goodbyes, and he’s gone, as Suguru sits and considers this — what could he be planning? 

Or, his nerves add, what could he be looking for? 

Either way, he pulled up your email — it was going to be an interesting two weeks. 

“Deontology determines whether an action is right or wrong based on a set of rules and principles instead of the consequences of the actions,” you speak to an empty lecture hall, your voice echoing in the silence, “therefore an act that isn’t morally good can lead to a good outcome,” 

You had come into the lecture hall to practice yet again this week. You were cursing your past self for inflicting this optional task on yourself — it had taken far more time than you had expected (what’s new?), taken far more preparation than you thought (again, of course), and now had the fun added pressure of the department head attending. And why was he attending? A wonderful and complete mystery. 

The last two weeks have been amazing for your mental health, truly. 

You were lucky the lecture hall and the building at large was deserted at 8:00 PM — all of the staff and students had all but fled, and you were left with the perfect place to practice. It had been many nights of honing your presentation to the allotted time, leaving time to pose a thought exercise, time to discuss, and for questions. 

You don’t see the door behind you open, nor do you hear it close, as you use the clicker to go through your PowerPoint, switching to the next slide. 

“For example, killing an intruder, based on the consequence would be wrong, as I hope we all know killing is wrong — otherwise, I worry about what will happen when you get your grades back,” you give a brief chuckle — and hope some of the students would pity you with some laughs, and that’s when you hear a small laugh behind you. 

Your head snaps around, flushing when you see Professor Geto standing by the door. He’s wearing a deep royal purple button up and gray slacks, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. 

God, this wasn’t a dream was it? 

“Don’t let me stop you,” he says, his footsteps against the floor grew closer, and your body tenses, until they stop, “go on,” and he leans against the wall behind you. 

“But when you do kill an intruder to protect your family, that’s viewed as right under deontology,” and you can’t focus with his gaze running over you, an all familiar feeling settled over you. Would life imitate dreams again? Would he come over and ask you to continue your presentation as his lips pressed gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder? Would he— 

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you can’t meet his gaze, but you hear his footsteps, “should I go?” 

“No, no, it’s just,” you shake your head, “a little deja vu,” 

He raises an eyebrow, “deja vu?” 

Your blood runs cold. Fuck. 

“I don’t recall you ever presenting like this in my clsss before,” you can't decide if his voice is more thick with confusion or curiosity. 

“Yeah, no, sorry it’s nothing,” you brush him off, your eyes fixed on your notes on the podium, and you know he’s still staring, “what?” 

“I see you’re still not a very good liar,” and you scoff, “what is it that’s gotten you so bothered?” 

“Nothing,” you insist. 

“The more you say that, the less I’m convinced,” and now he’s walking closer, closer still — but you’re fixed in place, “what is it?”

“You never let anything go, do you?” And you turn, your breath catching when you saw how close he was — inches from you, his pretty eyes wide at the sudden movement, his breath warming your lips. Black strands fall in his face, and you have to stop yourself from tucking them behind his ear. Stop yourself from wanting to touch him, stop yourself from wanting him to lean forward, stop yourself from wanting him. 

Nothing good ever came from your want. 

“Only when it’s you,” but this man makes it impossible not to want him. Not when his voice is soft, not when the back of his finger, a knuckle brushes against your cheek. And no words are needed — you can hear it in the silence between you both, you feel it in the gentleness of his touch, and in the softness of his gaze. 

And you know you’re in love with him. You are.

But you can’t be. 

“I’m not telling you,” you murmur, looking away — and it seems to break the spell, as he steps back, nodding, a flicker of sadness that slips away under his facade,  “but maybe I will sometime, over a drink,” you add. 

A smile tugs at his lips, “Well we know how well that went, or didn’t go rather, and you know, we can’t anytime soon,” 

“Well sometimes an action that isn’t morally good can lead to a good outcome,” and he raises an eyebrow. 

“Using deontology to convince me?” He tilts his head, “not a bad strategy — maybe I’ll have you write a paper,” 

“And willingly subject myself to your red pen? No thanks,” and he snorts, before the smile fades into a frown, brow wrinkled in thought, “what is it?” 

“Nothing, I’m just…” he crossss his arms, “I’m wondering why the department head wants to observe your presentation,” 

“He didn’t give any indication why?” and he shakes his head, “maybe he just wants to evaluate how good a job you’re doing,” you add, “you are relatively green,” 

“Not that green,” and you see his lips pressed together — and is he? — he was — he was pouting. You bite your lip how fucking adorable — but you know you’d be met with a scowl if you said that out loud, “don’t you worry that the dean may suspect something between us?” 

The thought had crossed your mind, but class had been nothing but professional so far, and you’d be too busy sweating bullets (and perhaps dodging them from the students if the presentation went poorly) to even consider your feelings for him. 

You sigh, “Look, nothing to do but get through it, right? It should be fine, we’ll deal with whatever comes after. As long as I don’t choke, and you don’t stare at me too adoringly, we should be fine,” 

And you expect a retort, a cheeky reply, or even a quite sarcastic one, but he only gives a small smile, “Right,”

You feel your cheeks burn and you can’t meet his gaze again without feeling your heart flutter. 

Fuck — maybe there was something to worry about. 

Despite the concerns, the presentation goes off without a hitch. You spot the dean sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, pen and notepad in hand, which did nothing to soothe your poor heart (nor did the far too many cups of coffee and the total lack of sleep). 

It happened quick — a blur of speaking, forcing yourself to slow your words down, a necessity when presenting — as you knew you always spoke faster than you believed you did when presenting. You think you even made the students laugh a few times, led an interesting thought experiment with a rousing debate that ended with no clear answer (as always), and then you answered questions. 

All the while, Professor Geto stood in the back, and you’d catch a glimpse of him by the corner of your eye, his lips curled in that smile that haunted all your nights and days. 

By the time it was done, you had barely realized time had gone so quickly, as you passed the metaphorical baton back to Geto. And you took a seat off to the side, opting to watch him lecture, rather than busy yourself with other work. 

It felt like old times, you thought, as you watched him speak. You couldn’t blame the people that took his class just to watch him speak — he was unfairly beautiful when he spoke, gesticulating as he read a Kant quote. And you kept your face as neutral as possible, but he catches your eye for a moment, corner of his lip twitching upwards. And a flush settles over your cheeks, as you discreetly press your thighs together, trying to look suddenly engrossed with your notebook. 

Your heart ached as much as your body did. You wanted to walk over and just kiss him, swallow his smart words along with his gasp, and feel those hands run along your body. You wanted to know every thought in his head, every part of his day, and fall asleep beside him. 

You glance up to see him still speaking — a black strand falling in his face. You bite your lip, before looking back down. 

This man would be the death of you — and it was even worse being alone with him. You’re thankful that your T.A. check-ins with him were every other week, because you couldn’t imagine having to spend more than an hour with him every other week. 

“You want us to do what?” You blink at the Dean, his lips curled in a smile, his hands tucked into his pockets. 

“Apologies for all the secrecy, I did not receive confirmation about this until earlier today,” he explains, “but I want you two to attend this conference on ethics and philosophy  — it’s over the weekend, two weekends from now. It would be a wonderful opportunity for the both of you to make connections and attend presentations, as well as mingle with prospective students. It would also afford us an opportunity for both of you to help put our university on the map,” 

You glance at Professor Geto, his lips parted in surprise, “Sir, is it appropriate for a male professor and a—“ 

“Don’t worry, the accommodations will be separate and it’s a public event, as long as everything remains professional, there’s no problem, right? As long as you two are okay with it and there’s no problem,” he glances between the two of you, “is there a problem?” 

And Professor Geto’s eyebrows knit together. It was a lose-lose situation — saying no meant raising some suspicions that there was an issue between the two of you, but saying yes meant going on a trip with the same professor you had kissed at the end of the last semester. And if anything happened on this trip...it could be very bad — ethically and otherwise. 

So you make the decision for both of you. 

“That’s fine. I’m happy to attend if Professor Geto is,” and you know you have no choice — you had to spend the weekend with him, alone. At a conference. In a hotel.

“Do you have everything?” Professor Geto asks, as you hand him your suitcase, your fingers brushing as you do.  He lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car, his black t-shirt riding up as he does, a quick flash of the expanse of his muscles—

Fuck, you bite your lip, stop, stop. Professor. He’s a professor. 

It didn’t matter that you had felt him part your thighs, as his lips slid against yours, nor that every time you saw each other, you felt this undeniable ache to touch him, comfort him, hug him, nor that you knew he felt the same and wanted to give in as badly as you did—

No, it didn’t matter. 

You consider his question, scrunching up your face in thought, “I think so, wait,” you snap your fingers as he glances at you, “forgot the rest of my apartment upstairs — you think that’ll fit in there too?” 

He smirks, rolling his eyes as shuts the trunk, “Ha, ha, ever consider becoming a comedian instead of a philosophy major?”

“Every day, but then I think what would my favorite professor do without me?” 

He raises an eyebrow, “I’m your favorite?” 

“Who said it was you?” you grin at him, as he shakes his head and you open the passenger door seat and slide in, as he slips into the driver’s seat. He adjusts his mirrors, buckling his seatbelt, as a sudden wave of guilt bombards you. You had dragged him down this rabbit hole with you — and now the two of you had to spend the entire weekend together, alone. 

You lick your far too dry lips, “Sorry if I roped you into this,” you fidget with your phone, tapping on the screen absentmindedly. 

He starts the car, engine roaring underneath your feet, before he glances at you, brow furrowed in seeming confusion, “What? It’s not you that roped us into this,” 

You purse your lips, “But if I didn’t agree to it—“ 

He sighs, “We were in a position where we didn’t have much of a choice,” his fingers drum against the steering wheel, as his eyes flicker to make sure your seatbelt was on, “it’s not your fault — and it’s not a bad thing — we’ll spend time at the conference, we’ll mingle, and then return to our hotel rooms,” he adds, “don’t worry. Nothing will happen.” 

And his reassurance is almost a punch to the gut instead — and your brain chides you for being so childish — you knew it was for the best, you knew it was the right thing to do, and you knew he was trying what was best for you, and for him. 

But why did it hurt so goddamn much? 

You steal a glance at him as he pulls into the street and begins to drive, dark gaze forward, his hair tied into its usual neat bun, and a chain poked out from underneath the rounded opening around his neck. And then your eyes flicker back out the window.  

Was it really not a big deal to him? 

Because the last two weeks were consumed with nothing, but thoughts of being alone with him. Days spent in conferences, sitting beside each other, whispering thoughts and inside jokes; evenings spent socializing together, waiting for the other to give the signal to leave; and nights walking back to your rooms, fingers brushing as you walked beside each other. You were sure it would take a slight bend of the rules, a gaze that lingers a little too long, to break the paper thin resistance either of you had to the other. The two of you could barely be alone for more than a few minutes without temptation rearing its ugly head — even now your eyes can’t help but trace the curve of his jaw, the way the sunlight catches his eyes, the way your fingers want nothing more than intertwine with his hand that rests on the console between you two. 

But you don’t. You give a weak smile, glancing out the window as the streets of Tokyo pass you by — “Yeah it should be fine.” 

Just fine. 

“There was a problem with your reservation,” 

And after half an hour of waiting off to the side, with your luggage stacked up and irritation creeping its way to a new high as you watched others easily being checked in to the hotel, you assumed there was a problem. If there wasn’t a problem, you would wonder if this was a new take on Waiting for Godot that would end with the both of youu sleeping in the lobby. You rubbed at your temples, as Geto dealt with the hotel staff, his arms crossed, lips a tight line, “the hotel double booked one of your rooms, so we only have one room available for you.”  

You barely heard the rest of the argument your professor had with the hotel staff, the same phrase ringing in your ears — one room, one room, one room. With nothing more to argue about, they finally escorted you both to your room in awkward silence. And as they opened the door, you spotted it — there was only one single queen sized bed. 

One. Bed. 

You felt your cheeks flush, as you couldn’t even meet Geto’s eyes, as he began to speak heatedly with the manager again. And the excuses began, as the manager wrung his hands, about how no other rooms being available due to the conference and another event happening in town. 

“There is a couch though,” he offers,  pointing to a far too small couch, and the sharp glare that Geto gave him would put even his red pen to shame, “we will see about comping half—“ Geto crosses his arms, “all of your stay here,” and with that, he’s gone. 

“So,” you sigh, glancing at Geto, with a strained smile, “I have dibs on the bed?” 

Was this a cosmic joke? You wondered as you turned off the water of the shower, squeezing your eyes shut. Was this a version of ethical karma for what you had done last semester? An ultimate ethical test that you would surely fail? A fucking prank show? 

You didn’t know. You dried off and got dressed, pulling on a t-shirt and shorts, your hair still damp, as you took a breath and stepped out, towel slung over your shoulders. 

Geto was still on the phone, pacing back and forth — he was trying to call other hotels to see if there was anywhere else with two rooms or at least a room with two beds.

“Yes I understand it’s very last minute—“ he sighs for what must have been the billionth time today, “yes, there was a mistake at the hotel I’m staying at—yes, ok, well, thank you,” he hangs up, setting his phone down. 

“No luck?” You sit on the edge of the bed, wiping your hair, and he shakes his head. 

“The one thing they were right about is that every hotel room is booked solid — not only is our conference in town, but there’s a physical science consortium happening as well,” he rakes his fingers through his hair, a few strands coming loose, “I’ll have to give the Dean a call to update him on the situation,” 

You nod, “So what should we do about sleeping?” And he can’t quite meet your gaze, “are there no trundle or rollaway beds?” 

“No, apparently those have all been spoken for,” he grumbles, and he prepares to call the dean, “I’ll take the couch, you can have the bed—“ 

“Professor, we can—“ and his gaze snaps to you, “we can share—“ 

“No, we can’t,” he says softly, “you know we can’t do that,” 

“We’re both adults—“ 

“And we’re still a professor and a student,” he draws the line between you two again, the gash even deeper than before, the gap that’s meant to keep you safe — the chase meant to protect you — so why did it feel more like a punishment? “I’ll take the couch,” and he calls the Dean to update him on the situation. 

You busy yourself with drying your hair in the bathroom, before coming back out to see him hanging up the phone. 

“Well, are we in an ethical bind or should I go sleep in the lobby just to show there’s no funny business?” And he shoots you a look, “there have been stranger bedfellows,” and he opens his mouth, “and a single word comes out of your mouth, and I’ll join you on that couch,” 

And a very pretty flush adorns the tips of his ears and cheeks, “He said it was fine, it was out of our control, but to just document everything, including the hotel’s incompetence for legality reasons,” 

“You’re also a lawyer as well as a professor?” 

“You have to hedge your bets,” he shrugs with a smile pulling at his lips, before he checks the time, “I’m going to take a shower,” he sighs, pulling his hair from the messy bun, letting his black locks down. And you watch him run his fingers through his hair again, sighing, as he heads into the shower. 

You lay on the bed, biting your lip — as you turn over to use your phone, as the shower turns on. And you glance at the closed door — the thought of him in there, pulling his shirt over his head, shedding his pants and boxers. Your cheeks burn, burying your face in your pillow as if that would help (it did not). 

You curl up on the bed, turning away from the bathroom door, using your phone. And a few minutes pass, as you kind of drift off into sleep, and you hear a creak of the bathroom door open that rouses you from sleep. You don’t move at first but you hear shuffling, the sounds of a zipper. You finally turn on your other side, eyes fluttering open, and you’re met with the sight of bare skin. 

You blink, eyes flickering up to see your Professor’s flushed face, before your eyes slowly following a bead of water slip down his bare chest, black hair dotting along the middle of his chest and abs, down to a happy trail that was hidden by a towel wrapped around his waist. His clothes in his hand, and your eyes find his own, your lips parted and mouth impossibly dry. 

Oh. My. God. 

“Uh—“ and his cheeks flare red, as you try your best not to let your eyes flicker downward, “I forgot my clothes—“ and you turn away, as he darts back into the bathroom, “I’m sorry,” he says, muffled through the door. 

“It’s okay!” You reply, your heart thumping against your ribcage, squeezing your eyes shut to only be met the memory of his bare torso, “fuck,” you mumble under your breath, as you turn onto your back, and stare at the spinning ceiling fan above you. A distinct ache below at the thought of him. 

Your eyes flickered to the shut bathroom door. You hear the sound of water running again — maybe he needed to wash up again. Either way, you slid under the comforter, hand slipping into your shorts, you had some time. You wish you could have grabbed his hand before he fled into the bathroom, sat up on your knees, fingers sliding to his cheek. 

“Kiss me,” you’d murmur, and he would, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips sweetly, as your fingers glide up his bare chest. You’d swallow his gasp with delight, as your other hand finds his wet locks, fingers tangling in his black locks, “please,” you would guide his fingers to the hem of your shirt and he would oblige, lifting up and over your head. And your fingers would tug his towel away, letting it fall to the ground. 

Your fingers press against the wet patch on your underwear, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you gasp, imagining it was instead his eager fingers that tugged your shorts down. You sunk one finger in and then another, pumping slowly, and you knew he would get you ready for him. He would fuck you with his thick fingers, as his mouth latched to your clit, sucking gently as he fucked you open. You moaned his name softly, as you imagine his fingers stretching you open. 

“Do you want me, my pretty girl?” He would murmur between your thighs, lips glossy with your release, “s’good for me, taste as good as you look,” and he would press your back gently into the mattress as he would meet your lips again before, rubbing the tip of his cock against your puffy lips, “tell me what you want, Princess,” 

“Please,” you whispered, as you moved your fingers faster, adding a third finger, but you know his cock would feel so much thicker, and reach so much deeper, “fuck me,” 

And he would, sinking into you, his pretty cock parting your folds, his quiet grunts and moans whispering in your ear, as he works himself inside to the hilt. His lips would find yours as he would rock his hips into you — your cunt would flutter around his length. He would press your thighs apart further, long fingers digging into your soft flesh, the wet squelch of your cunt and the sounds of his skin slapping against yours would ring in your ears.

“S’close, Sugu—fuck,” you would keen against him, instead of your fingers, “please,” and his thumb would find your clit, just as yours did, and you would cum all over his cock, squeezing around his length, as he sinks even deeper, until his tip is brushing against your cunt. The moan of his name slips out, as you press your forearm against your mouth to barely stifle it. 

Fuck, you come down from your high, panting. And you glance at the bathroom door, thinking you’ll clean up once he gets out. You roll over in bed, as you pulled the pillow over your face. 

This was going to be a long weekend. 

Suguru lingers in the bathroom for far too long after that, the embarrassment of the moment still far too fresh in his mind, his cheeks still a dusty pink at the thought. Not only was it bad enough that he was trapped in this hotel room with you for an entire weekend, but now he had paraded out practically half naked for you to see. 

Fuck his life. 

He had hurried into the shower if only to get a break from being in the same room as you. It had been hard enough to endure the last few weeks as a T.A., but now he had to spend an entire weekend sharing a hotel room — and deal with situations like that one all weekend. Seeing you emerge from the bathroom, only in a t-shirt and shorts, still damp from your shower — wet hair in messy tangles that he wanted to run his fingers through— and that’s why he excused himself to the bathroom. A reprieve if only for a moment. If he had only remembered to bring his clothes into the shower — he wouldn’t have had to finish his shower, with only his discarded clothes to wear that had slipped off the clothes rack and onto the damp floor. 

He had stepped out, towel around his waist, as he peeled out, only to see your back to him, the sounds of soft breathing told him you were asleep. And he crept out, silently cursing as the door creaked and rifled through his suitcase for clothes. He had found them, and gone to retreat back when you roused and turned all at once. 

God, he sighed, it was such a mess. 

But the way you looked at him…lips parted, gaze flicking across his body, the way your eyes lingered a little too long on his torso — and now he had an entirely different problem. 

His cock tented against the towel, as his eyes slid to the bathroom door. What if he just hopped into the shower for a second again? The towel dropped to the floor, as he steps back into the shower, turning on the water. 

He groans, his fingers slide over his mortifyingly hard erection, teasing his slit as he would imagine you would, as you would open the bathroom door, murmuring his name, “Professor? Are you okay?” And you wouldn’t wait for his answer as you stepped into the shower with him, eyes raking down his body, a teasing grin on your lips, “not very ethical is that?” And your fingers would curl their way around the base of his cock, making him shudder with pleasure, “I can take care of that,” and you would kiss down his chest and stomach, even despite his protests, until you reached where he wanted your touch most. 

And god, you would look so pretty on your knees for him, as your fingers pumped him far too slowly, teasing him with a chaste kiss to his tip, tongue dragging against his slit, better than how his thumb did, “s’good for me, Professor,” you’d say, when you heard the hiss he just let out, “I wonder what other sounds you could make for me,” and your lips would close around his tip, sucking lightly, as he gasped, his other hand clasped over his mouth, muffling his sounds. 

He would look down with half lidded eyes, and see your head bobbing as you took him so well, your fingers toying with his balls, spotting your eyes flicking up to meet his — glazed over and desperate, just he imagined his were. Your mouth would feel so much better than his hand, the wet squelch of his pumping would not compare to you swallowing around him, sucking and licking around his length, his pre-cum and your drool slipping down the corner of your mouth. 

You’d swallow around him, as his fingers would slide into your hair. And maybe you would let him fuck your mouth, hips rolling slowly as you adjust, before he slowly would thrust faster. He would repay the favor tenfold once you were done, burying himself in your sweet cunt, until you were begging him to stop. His fingers moved faster around his cock, his low groans and wet squelch bouncing off the bathroom walls, hopefully drowned out by the running water.  Fuck, he wished he would feel how it would to have his tip brush against the back of your throat. 

He was close, the twitch of his dick in his hand told him so, and he imagined what it would be like to cum in your mouth, watching you swallow his release, if you’d want to, or cumming all over your face or chest, letting his cock drag over your tongue as he pulled out. 

Fuck, he shudders, moaning your name against his fingers, he cums all over his hand and the wall of the shower, his release running down mixing with the water. He rinsed his hand off, leaning his head under the water again, hoping it would wash away any traces of you. 

It didn’t. 

And as he emerged from the shower, making sure any trace of his act had slipped down the drain, but the towel around his neck, wondering if you’d see what he did on his face. But you wouldn’t — because you were fast asleep. 

His lips curled as he watched you sleep for a moment, your lips parted, curled up facing away from the bathroom — your feet sticking out of your blanket. He adjusts the blanket for you, and you shift a little in your sleep, mumbling something under your breath, before settling back in. 

And he bites his lip before turning away — he would never be clean, would he? 

Not when it was you. 

“How much longer do you think we’ll be stuck here?” you murmur, the smile plastered on your lips nearly starting to chip and crack. 

Professor Geto sipped at his drink hiding his frown, long fingers cradling the wine glass far too perfectly, “at least another hour,” he sighs, “when in academia, one must get used to mindless conversing if only it will lead to another needless connection,”

And this day had been nothing but an exercise of that — lectures, panels, presentations — any other word that meant someone or several someones sitting in front of you, talking at you — with only maybe 30% of the people actually listening (if you were lucky or interesting). And now you were one hour deep into a mixer that had you engaging in dry chit-chat that had your mind going numb by the first ten minutes. Your only reprieve being by Geto’s side. 

You hated how he could make the dullest of things enjoyable for you, or rather—

You hated how much you loved it 

“How pithy — Plato?” And he snorts, as you finish off your own drink, “I’m going to get a refill, do you want anything?” He shakes his head, and you head off to the bar. 

You were so restless after sitting for so long. Not to mention the slight rash you got from not washing up soon enough. You woke an hour and half later and cleaned yourself up — luckily Geto had passed out by then. You saw him sleeping half scrunched up, half sprawled out on the couch — one of his legs were hanging off the couch — and even his blanket had slipped off. You stifled a small laugh, taking a quick picture of him — so stubborn that he wouldn’t sleep on the bed with you. Your gaze had softened, as you picked up the discarded blanket and placed it over him softly, your fingers gently tucking some of his hair from his face. You fell asleep again after heading back to bed, and woke up refreshed — while Geto had woken up with a very sore back and neck. 

“Can I get…” you look at the menu, ordering your favorite drink, standing by the bar as you adjust your dress, you had opted for a black dress with sheer tights — one you had worn a suit jacket over it. You tap against the bar top, checking your phone as you do. 

“Can I get what she’s getting?” A dark haired man sidles up beside you, his mouth curled in a smirk drawing attention to a scar in the corner of his mouth, and his voice drops to a whisper, “though I think I’d enjoy you more than the drink,” 

You raise your eyebrows, “and I think you’ve certainly had enough tonight,” you say under your breath, giving an awkward chuckle, but he doesn’t seem to notice as the bartender comes back with your drink. Your eyes flicker over the crowd as you search for Geto but you can’t find him. 

“What’s your name, pretty?” And your skin crawls as his dark gaze slides over your body, “mine’s Toji,” and you bite back a sigh, introducing yourself, “it’s very nice to meet you — I’ve met a lot of people tonight but you definitely have been the most interesting,” and the bartender comes back with his drink. 

“Then you must have not met a lot of interesting people so far,” you say, eager to look for any out to escape this conversation, “my friend is waiting—“ 

“No, I’d say that you’re just that interesting,” he sips his drink, “can I get you another drink?” 

And right when you’re about to respond, “No, I don’t think she’s interested,” And you tense a moment before you register the familiar voice, Geto smiles at Toji, if you could call that a smile — it reminded you of one a predator gave its new prey, “especially because she’s a student, and you’re most assuredly not,” 

Toji raises an eyebrow, “But she is an adult, she can speak for herself, so why don’t you let her, Professor?” 

“Because—“ his fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for you but he can’t. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. And you know why he can’t. 

Geto’s smile wavers, and you intercede, “I can, and I think I’ve had enough for tonight,” you pay your tab, “let’s go back to the hotel, Professor,” 

And Toji pulls his card out, handing it to you, “If you change your mind,” he raises his glass, leaning against the bar, before he leans closer to you, whispering, “if you ever get sick of him, call me,” 

You give a polite smile, tugging Geto away until you reached the outside of the building, silence filled the space between you two, until you found your way outside. 

“What did he say?” He asks as he calls a car back to take you both to the hotel, and you don’t know how to answer that — not without making it worse, “actually, never mind. I shouldn’t have asked,” 

“Professor—“ 

“You’re an adult, he’s right — you should be allowed to make your own choices,” he licks his lips, his eyes still fixed on his phone screen, “I’m sorry if I—“ 

“Can you let me speak?” you sigh, as you wave your hand in front of his phone so he would look at you, and his eyes meet yours, “you’re fine — I was trying to get out of there — I just felt very trapped.” 

He huffs out a chuckle. “When you took that long, I wondered if the group of solipsists had taken you hostage,” 

You grimace, “I guess when you believe everyone else is an illusion, you also think manners are an illusion too,” he laughs in earnest now, “now there’s a real smile,” He tilts his head, “the smile you had inside, real scary kind of smile,” you tease, as his eyes can’t quite meet yours.

“Oh yeah?” he suddenly seems very interested in his phone, “our rideshare is almost here,” 

“Almost like you were jealous,” and he scoffs. 

“Of him?” 

“Uh huh, he is pretty attractive, maybe I will give him a call—“ and you notice him grip his phone tighter, and your lips curl, “but I probably won’t, not really my type,” 

“Not your type?” he asks. 

“More into the intellectuals, that man was far from it — I like an academic, sweater vests, glasses, a pretentious little office—“ and the glare is back, as you laugh, the rideshare sparing him from you continuing this conversation, but you also didn’t get to see the slight smile on his lips as you slipped into the back of the car. 

“Just sleep on the bed,” you say for probably the thousandth time, but he only shakes his head, as he sits on the couch, combing out his black locks. Even freshly showered, he looks unfairly hot — a loose gray t-shirt with sweatpants, contacts switched to glasses, and now his hair brushed against his shoulders. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch — it was fine last night—“ 

“Your spinal cord would beg to differ,” and he looks unamused, as he struggles with his comb, “what are you doing?” 

“I can’t get this knot out of my hair, and I can’t get you out of my hair either,” he adds, as you roll your eyes, slipping off the bed and walking over. You ease the comb from his fingers, biting your lip at the brush of his fingers, “what are you—“ 

“It’s easier if someone else does it,” and he sighs, giving in, as your fingers undo the knot in his hair gently, “your hair is really smooth and fine, probably why it tangled so fast,” and he only hums in response, his body relaxing under your touch, as you comb through the rest of his hair. You bite back a smile, he’s almost like a cat, keening under your touch, “feels good?” You murmur. 

“Yeah, it does,” and you don’t want the moment to end, you want this excuse to touch him to remain, the first time you’ve been able to breach this wall between you two — and it’d be over in an instant, “I think that’s good,” he mutters. 

He lays his head back on the top of the couch to look up at you — pretty obsidian orbs stared back at you — and your heart squeezes. He was so close, within reach, and all you had to do was lean down, press your lips against his, and maybe you wouldn’t have to tiptoe anymore, maybe you wouldn’t have to hide from him, maybe you could be— 

“We should go to bed,” he sighs, the moment breaks, as he sits upright, adjusting his pillow on the couch beside him, “we have an early start,” 

“Don’t remind me,” you turn back to him, “but you’re right - we should go to bed—“ you grab his pillow, “on the bed,” 

“No—“ 

“Like you said, we’re both adults,” you tilt your head, as he purses his lips, “I think I can handle sleeping in bed beside you, just sleeping, we can even put a pillow between us,” and you add, “if I try anything in my sleep, you challenge me to a pillow fight, and push me off the bed,” 

He scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I really can sleep on—“ and then you raise your eyebrows, eyes flicking to the hand on his neck. He sighs, “fine, but I really will push you off the bed, I’m a restless sleeper,” 

“Then it’s equal opportunity,” you grin, as you slip into your side of the bed, stretching. Suguru is slower to get in, taking his time and adjusting his pillow and blanket before he finally gets into bed, “good night,” 

“Good night,” he turns to face away from you as he sleeps and you do the same. 

But it wasn’t a good night. Not when you couldn’t fucking sleep. 

For someone so smart, you really were very stupid. The bed that seemed expansive and open yesterday now felt Tom Thumb tiny, every shift of your body felt like a ripple effect, as you’d feel the slight shift of Geto right beside you. He was so close — you swore you could nearly feel the heat radiate off of him, the weight of his body beside you felt far too close and way too far — a chasm you could never cross.

And it was close to driving you insane enough to follow your wants all the way down it. 

But you couldn’t — but you could look, stare into the void, without becoming part of it. 

You shift again to face him this time — how could the back of someone’s head be so beautiful? Jet black locks that you had combed yourself fanned out on his pillow. But you could spot the nape of his neck through the tresses, a lovely spot that you only wished you could lean over and bury your face in. Your eyes began to droop. 

Hypnos finally took pity. You could only sleep this way. Your eyes finally flutter shut — you should have known — you were always the most comfortable with him in your sight. 

Suguru knew that you had fallen asleep — because your soft breaths fell into a rhythm, the crinkle of your sheets had grown silent, and the loud thoughts that filled up your head had gone quiet. He was glad one of you could sleep. 

He surely wouldn’t get a wink tonight. 

This was certainly more comfortable than the couch, but at least he had slept on the couch. He would be lucky to get thirty minutes at this rate. This weekend had already been too much — and he felt his will to stay away from you slowly snapping, a few strands away from breaking away completely. 

When he had seen you with Toji — he didn’t think, he just acted. He could see you were uncomfortable, the way your body leaned away from him, the way your eyes flickered around the room, and the way you toyed with your glass. It was a simple choice, but what happens when the next person that flirts with you is someone you’re interested in? Would he have to stand by and simply let it happen? Watch as you’re able to date this person but not him simply because of his title? 

He was jealous. Not of Toji — but of the idea of you being with someone else — of your attention drifting from him, of you drifting from him. He turned to lay on his back, he really was fucked wasn’t he? 

He turns his head to look at you. It never helped that you were effortlessly adorable, even now as you slept. Lips parted, body curled up, your hair falling in your face yet again. His fingers tuck a strand behind your ear gently, and you shift, a quiet hum leaving your lips as you settle back into the arms of the sandman. 

How were you so close but so far? You were mere inches away but you might as well be across the country. Because he couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t hold you, he couldn’t kiss you. The kiss he shared with you haunted his dreams — a daydream wrapped up in the nightmare of reality. He couldn’t ask you to wait — wait for your degree to be completed so the two of you could date. It wouldn’t be fair to you, but what about this was fair? 

And he turns on his side to face you, his fingers brushing your cheek gently — maybe if he couldn’t be with you in reality, he could allow himself to dream, his eyes flutter shut. 

Just for a moment. 

And his unconscious allows it — allows him to dream of you. 

Dream of your face buried in the crook of his neck, your soft breaths warming his skin, his nose buried in your hair. Your fingers grasped at his shirt, your other hand thrown over his middle. Why was your scent so intoxicating? He sighs, pulling you impossibly closer, and you shift, your leg sliding around his waist, as you pressed closer, pulling a groan from his lips as your core grazes right against his morning…visitor. 

And you move again, nose brushing against his collarbone, his name on your lips, quietly whispered like a secret against his skin. It was perfect — you were perfect. 

But what if this wasn’t a dream? The back of his mind prods — but that’s not possible, he was home in bed, right? This wasn’t real. It was the same dream he always had, of waking up in your arms, a lazy morning spent together in bed, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, the sheets becoming dappled in sunshine. 

No, there was no way this was real, he sighs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, but even if it was, he thought as he drifted, he didn’t want to wake — not yet. 

A distinct buzz stirs you from your sleep. But you don't want to wake — you were far too comfortable. But the buzzing persists, so you reach blindly for your phone and to turn off the alarm. And settle back into bed, eyes still shut, as you find your way back onto your pillow — or what you thought was your pillow. 

Except pillows didn’t move, or have an arm they could wrap around you. 

Your eyes open, to find yourself entangled with someone else — your brow furrowing in confusion that melts away to silent horror. Professor Geto. 

So much for sticking to your sides. 

Fuck.  

You tried to extricate yourself to no avail, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush to his body, your legs entangled, aside from your leg thrown over his waist, you realize, a small squeak escaping your lips, as you try and fail to move away. Instead you brush up against something very…hard. 

You flush, cheeks burning so hot that it’s truly a miracle he didn’t wake from the heat of your skin against his alone. His morning wood was pressed right against you, nearly between your thighs — just like the last time it was  against you — why the fuck would you think about that now? You resisted the urge to press your legs together — lest you have another new problem, and a mess to deal with. 

You manage to only pull your head away, urging yourself up so that your faces are an inch or two apart now. His soft breaths warmed your lips, his brow relaxed, locks of black hair fell in front of his eyes. Your fingers reach and tuck the locks behind his ear, tips skimming his skin. And the arm around you almost seems to tighten, and you bite your lip, the comforting presence of his arms far too tempting to drag you into wanting — as if you ever left. Wanting was dangerous, because wanting can only ever lead to need, needing him was as foolish as it was to share a bed with the man you were in love with. 

But how foolish was it that you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away? It was okay right? Okay as long your lips didn’t touch, as long you didn’t follow this slope all the way down — it was treacherous to press forward, but why did you want to anyway?

Your eyes flutter shut again for a moment — and your eyes glanced at the morning sky — the sun had just breached the horizon. You could allow yourself a few minutes — even if you had to give up a lifetime with him. 

The blaring of your phone only seems to grow increasingly loud, as you give a small groan, rolling over to your phone again, slapping the screen to snooze it again. And your eyes flutter open a moment, lazily flickering over the screen — 8:45 AM. 

Your eyes close — before your mind fully wakes — 8:45 AM? 

“Fuck,” you shoot up to get up, a tangle of limbs,  jolting Geto awake, his eyes popping open, his arm instinctively grabbing you by the waist, and you land with an oomfph back onto the bed—wait, not the bed. 

Your hand pressed against his chest, your body against his, noses brushing, your eyes unable to tear away from the other — his eyes were even prettier this close — a dark brown, nearly black, with flecks of another color — purple? You can’t tell if that’s your heartbeat or his that’s racing with how close you are, chest to chest. And even as you try to shift, you make it worse by slipping, your hips rubbing against each other’s. 

Fuck. 

You both freeze for a moment, his eyes flickering to your lips and back, as yours does the same, before you both scramble apart. 

“We’re late. We’re really late,” you spring out of bed, grabbing random clothes from your suitcase, “I’m going to get ready, really fast,” you don’t even bother to look at his expression, and you almost wished your heart had shattered your ribcage, with how fucking hard it’s beating, if only that you wouldn’t have to spend another day in the conference with him. 

You sighed, as you brushed your teeth hurriedly while doing your hair — well maybe a lecture or presentation would take your mind off this morning. 

So that wasn’t a dream, Suguru was only glad you didn’t even glance at his face when you ran off, or you would have seen the lovely tomato red that graced his cheeks. He could still feel the warmth from your body, slowly receding, and he swore he could still feel you against him, your soft skin, your pretty lips against his neck, and your leg around his waist. 

Fuck. 

God, he had another fucking problem to deal with — as he shifted awkwardly, his morning wood up and erect with a tent that could put most large circus tents to shame. Fuck, he didn’t have time to take care of this — especially with you in the bathroom right now. 

But still, he pressed his inner palm to his lips, how was he going to make it through the rest of the conference with the feeling of your body still lingering in his mind. If the situation was different, the two of you would have woken up with smiles on your lips, spent the morning cuddling without a care, and probably a little more than that—

But the situation was the same, and his eyes slid to the bathroom door, so why was it that he still thinking about you? He wasn’t the type to dwell, he accepted things for what they were — he had his principles and his beliefs, and he stuck to them, unless proven otherwise. He was a man of guidelines, of rules—

So why were you the only person that ever made him want to throw every rule away? 

“We are going to be discussing ethical dilemmas faced in universities and how to approach them,” the lecturer begins, “can anyone tell us an example of one such dilemma?” 

You both had barely made it into a lecture — barely even speaking as you ran-walked into the conference — choosing a lecture at random, as the two of you ran a good fifteen minutes late. You both arrived, hiding your pants, as you both grabbed water bottles from the back, and sat down. 

And of course to make matters worse, your phone goes off, making the entire room turn to look at the two of you. You silence your phone, murmuring a quick sorry as the two of you take your seats. 

Could this possibly get worse? 

Your eyes glanced at him — it was already bad enough to begin with. Geto had barely spoken a word this morning, even as the two of arrived at the conference, the only words he spoke were to the attendant that parked his car. 

You tugged at the collar of your shirt, adjusting your clothes. And if that wasn’t enough, you were going to spend the day sweaty and disheveled. Meanwhile, you stole another glance at your professor — his skin flushed from running, button up not buttoned up all the way, glasses instead of contacts, and his hair in its usual bun, but a few strands were nearly coming loose — he still looked fucking delectable. But he wouldn’t meet your gaze, his body positioned to lean away from yours, his eyes fixed ahead. 

You held back your sigh as you focused on the presentation — you just needed to get through today — as the lecturer picked someone who raised their hand. 

“A student-teacher relationship is one such ethical problem faced in universities today,” and Geto nearly chokes on his water, coughing slightly, as you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of this morning, “it presents several ethical problems — including the role the professor plays in the student’s education and future, their ability to provide praise or reprimand, and even grant recommendations gives them great power over their student. It leaves the student without much freedom in the relationship.”

Oh, what the fuck. 

The rest of the conference is spent in relative silence with a thick film of awkwardness perfectly overlayed. When you both finally return to the hotel room, your only consolation is that you’ll be leaving tomorrow. You toss your things onto the couch, “I’m going to wash up,” you tell him, and he only nods in reply, as you enter the bathroom and shut the door, back pressed against it and sliding down. 

Oh this is such a mess. You sigh, maybe a shower will help. 

It didn’t. You were still just as much of a mess as you were before. You sighed, as you stood in front of the sink, wiping your hair with a towel. This could be so simple if you both could be together — so easy. There would be no tension, no hurt feelings, no awkwardness — you could just be. But that’s not an option. So the only other option is to let him go. 

But you didn’t know how to begin to. 

Either way, hiding in the bathroom wouldn’t solve a thing — and you finally opened the door, “I’m done if you want to wash up,” he nods, sitting on the couch, reading a book. His glasses rested on the tip of his nose, lips pursed, and legs crossed. 

You walk over, grabbing your things from the couch and put some of your things away in your suitcase. But after all of that is done, you realize one thing is missing — your cellphone. 

“Shit,” you murmur under your breath, searching through your suit coat pockets, your pants pocket, anywhere that your phone might be. 

“What’s wrong?” Geto says, book in his lap, as he tilts his head. 

“Can’t find my phone,” you mumble, cheeks burning — god, it was already awkward enough, and now this? 

“Is it on ring?” You nod — your phone was usually on ring, sometimes to your detriment — you cringe at the memory in the lecture this morning, “I’ll call it,” 

He calls you — and you glance at his phone screen, your contact is just your name, no picture, nothing. You bite your lip, what were you expecting? A heart next to your name? And the sound of your phone ringing catches both of your attention. 

“It’s over here, somewhere,” he says, lifting up some of cushions of the couch, and reaching underneath into the creases, as you walk over — “I found—“ 

And you were so concerned about your contact information in his phone that you forgot about his contact information in your phone. 

The screen flashed with the image of him sleeping all lopsided on the couch from that first night, as you covered your mouth in both horror, but also to stifle your laugh. 

His eyes flicker to you, “When did you—“ and you reach for your phone, but he moves it away, “not until you answer my questions,” 

“This isn’t class, Professor, I want my phone—“ you reach for it again, and he’s holding it above your head, “oh real mature—“ 

“Like the picture you have of me as my contact picture?” He raises an eyebrow, a real smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “thought I should resort to my student’s level,”  

“Your T.A.,” you correct, as you reach for your phone again, but he’s using his height to his advantage, and he’s beginning to walk backwards, “come on, give it back—“ 

“Not until I change and delete that photo,” and he’s trying to hold your phone up to your face to unlock it, and you gasp. 

“Oh my god, give it back!” And you grab his hand, and he’s grabbing at the other, giggles leaving your lips, as he laughs too, as the two of you struggle for the phone, your fingers closing over it, and over his own fingers as well. 

And you realize how close you are to him. 

The two of you freeze a moment, laughter on your lips fading away to soft smiles, and his fingers squeeze yours lightly, as he passes you your phone back. But he doesn’t move away — and you don’t either. 

“Why did you let go?” and it seems like it’s a force out of your control that draws you together, no matter how much either of you try to let go. 

“Because I can’t help giving you what you want,” he murmurs, and the heat of his gaze melts your heart, as you drop your phone onto the couch, and reach for his hand again. 

And you lean closer, your other hand gently brushing against his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw, “So if I ask for a kiss, will you give it to me?” You won’t close the gap anymore than you have — he needs to reach for you too, let himself give into gravity. 

He does, as his hand brushes against your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheekbone, “will we stop at just a kiss?” He murmurs, leaning so close that your eyes want to flutter shut. 

“Only one way to find out,” and his lips brush yours. And it’s not chaste like your first kiss was, no, his lips slide against yours, as his other hand slides to the back of your neck. He swallows your gasp eagerly, if the smirk you feel against your lips is anything to go off of. Your teeth graze against this bottom lip teasingly, drawing a small groan from the back of his throat. 

Neither of you couldn’t stop at one kiss, and you both knew that, even as your lips parted for a small breath of air, they found each other again — just as you both always did. Because you could never let him go — no matter how hard you tried. 

RING. RING. RING. 

And this time it isn’t an alarm. But rather his phone, flashing with a name that brings you crashing back to reality. 

The department head. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, as he parts from you, his warmth leaving all at once, as he grabs his phone, and turns away, “Hello? Yes, the conference is over. Everything went well. No, no, nothing out of the ordinary.” 

You stared at his back, this would always be the case wouldn’t it? Even as you crashed together, something would pull you apart, and neither of you could break the cycle. You take your phone from the couch, and crawl into bed, but you could start. 

You close your eyes, your fingers brushing against your lips for a moment. You needed to start — otherwise, you would just end up broken. 

And you don’t hear him hang up — or see him stare at your figure under the covers — and he would break along with you. 

Suguru didn’t know what to say the next morning — especially when it seemed couldn’t even bear to look at him, much less speak to him. You had busied yourself with packing, even before he had awoken. His back ached from the night he spent on the couch, he couldn’t fall asleep for far too long, and by the time he did, he kept sleeping — through his many alarms it seemed. 

And it wasn’t the couch that kept him awake. 

You both had the most lovely timing, didn’t you? He thought, as he combed his hair in the bathroom, the memory of your fingers running through his hair as you gently undid the knots in his locks still ever present — it seemed like any time you two wanted to act on your feelings, the universe was doing what it could to keep you apart. 

Was this fate versus free will? 

You both kept choosing each other — but fate kept pulling you apart. Did he have any control over his actions or did he have no control over his actions at all? Was it all predetermined by some force he couldn’t perceive? Some force intent on pulling you apart. 

He sighed, as his phone lights up with an email from the department head — department head position opened up in Jujutsu University: Kyoto — 

And so maybe he should let it. 

The next few weeks pass by far too quick. As your semester picks up, you stop attending Professor Geto’s classes, opting to send an email to let him know, and he replies back with a simple response — Ok. Please let me know when and if you are available to input the grades for the midterm paper. 

The rest of your T.A. work is done online and over email — and you do your best to keep busy, keep yourself occupied, and keep your thoughts from straying to him.

And you maybe succeed 10% of the time. It doesn’t help that your unconscious does not wish to cooperate since it seems that once you stopped seeing your professor during waking hours, he’s infiltrated your sleep — sneaking in and out by the time your eyes open. 

And then you’re left with the fragments of his touch, his voice, his kisses, and soft, loving words. 

Just as you always were it seemed. 

And before you know it, the end of the semester comes, and you find yourself in front of that same office door yet again. It felt like an eternal reoccurrence — stuck to repeat the same events again and again in an infinite loop. Was there any exit from this loop? 

You didn’t know — you knocked on his office door — but you could try. 

“Come in,” you do, entering his office to find him sitting at his desk, hair half up for once. And his eyes flicker up to meet yours, his head tilting at your stare, “see something interesting?” 

“Your hair—“ and your cheeks burn — so much for trying — “it’s different,” 

“Thought I’d try something different — my hair is growing out,” and you have to repress the want to curl a lock or his hair around your finger, “do you not like it?” 

You shake your head, “It looks nice, just different,”

And he hands you the papers he’s graded, “you can input those, I’m just finishing up a couple more, so if you wouldn’t mind waiting a bit?” 

“Not at all,” a silence falls over between the two of you, the quiet scratch of his pen as he grades, the occasional ding of his e-mail breaking up the silence. You sneak a glance at him — ebony tresses brushing against his broad shoulders, his brow furrowed that you wished to run your fingers along to smooth his worries from his mind, pretty lips parted as he reads a sentence silently to himself. 

Fuck — no, no, you can’t do this. 

You busy yourself thumbing your way through the papers, spotting the familiar red scrawls littering these pages, as they once did yours. You were so pissed when you got your first paper back — indignant even — a whole Karen ready to speak to his supervisor. But when his honest criticism and blunt words rang true, you found yourself not only wanting to prove him wrong, but a want to be better. To earn his respect. And of course, later, you wanted to earn a little more than that. 

You bite back a chuckle, and here you still were — by his side. Except next semester you wouldn’t be his T.A. 

But you would still be a student. And he would still be a professor. 

But one other thing that hasn’t changed is how brutal the feedback is — you couldn’t help but feel bad for “Itadori Yuuji” — whoever that was. 

“What are you smiling about?” Your eyes snap up to meet his, his head leaning against his palm, elbow resting on the desk. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head, but he looks unconvinced, “just thinking about our first time in this office,” and then your cheeks burn at the double meaning, “I mean our first office hours appointment—“ 

He waves you off, “I know what you meant,” a small chuckle in his cadence, as he continues to grade, “you certainly weren’t happy with me,” 

“No I wasn’t,” a small smile on your lips, “but it worked out in the end,” you add, “you got an amazing T.A. after all,” 

His eyes meet yours, “More than just that,” 

Why can’t you help but get pulled in time and time again? And why can’t you help but ask questions that will only hurt you in the end? 

He continues to grade when you finally speak, “What do you think would have happened if I didn’t end up being your T.A.?” 

And his pen stops, lips pursed, “We shouldn’t—“ 

“Why shouldn’t we?” you felt like a child demanding an answer from their parent. 

“We agreed—”

“I don’t remember an agreement-” 

“It was unspoken—” 

You scoff, crossing your arms, “You really are only a professor because an attorney would know that binding agreements can’t be unspoken,” he falls silent, his voice soft. 

“I don’t want to keep hurting you,” his words are wrought with conflict, pain seeping into every syllable, “I don’t want to keep going down this road only to for you to get hurt in the end — I don’t want to jeopardize your future for something that might not last—” 

“But what if it does?” and he swallows thickly, “what if we can make it work? We’re both adults, we can be discreet—” 

“So discreet that we end up making out in my office?” he takes off his glasses only to run a hand down his face, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks, and you huff out a chuckle. 

“A little more discreet than that, we’ll lock the door next time,” it’s his turn to scoff, and you rise from your seat, lips curled, “close the lights, or maybe even kiss in a place that’s not on campus,” but he does the same, meeting you on the side of his desk, his fingers brushing your cheek so gently as if you’d shatter under his touch. 

“I don’t want to stand in the way of your career,” he says, his fingers finding your hand regardless, fingers interlacing, “I don’t want you to—” 

“It’s my choice, Suguru,” you murmur, as you lean against his warm palm, your fingers sliding against his palm and into his inky tresses, “don’t you owe me a choice, and a drink?” you add, and his lips curl in a knowing smile. 

“I do, if you’ll still have me,” and he’s leaning close, sucking the air from the room, and the logic from your minds, as his lips barely graze yours, “shouldn’t we lock the door?” 

“Fuck it,” and you pull him into a deep kiss that pulls a groan from his lips that makes your cunt ache, as he’s already pushing you into the lip of his desk, his hand sliding down to your waist. 

“Now who’s being unethical?” he murmurs, pressing eager kisses along your jaw, that makes you melt against him, your legs nearly jelly at this point, “what kind of example are you setting as a T.A.?” 

You bite back your moan as his lips find the soft spot of your neck, teeth grazing it far too fucking teasingly, “Well students learn by example,” and his hands are slipping under thighs to lift you so you’re sitting on his desk — you spread your legs for him in the dress that you’re in, pantyhose underneath, his heavy lidded gaze raking over your body, “and look at my professor staring at his T.A. so lustfully, even with a clear power dynamic—” 

And his fingers find your thighs again, squeezing, before his fingers dig into the sheer hose, tearing holes in it, drawing a gasp from your lips, “How’s that for a power dynamic, princess?” far too pleased, “don’t worry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he murmurs, “now just be a good girl and spread your legs for me,” he says, as he pulls away the ruined pantyhose, and he’s undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand — one, two, three — before your fingers take over, leaning to press kisses at each inch of exposed skin, until the shirt falls open. 

Then his lips find yours again, his silver tongue asking for you to part your lips and you do — as he extracts every want you have with his burning touch — his lips against yours, his large hands parting your thighs, his knee pressed against your twitching cunt — and only leaves your want for him behind, until it becomes a need. 

“Wonder what our students would think of you,” his fingers tease your inner thighs, drawing a whine from your lips, “wanting your professor to fuck you in his office instead of inputting their grades,” he whispers in your ear, as his fingers finally skim the wet patch of your underwear, “so wet f’me, already? Look I think you even soaked my slacks,” he tsks, as his thumb and forefinger find your chin and tilt it up, “what are you going to do about that?” 

“Suguru—please,” and he smiles as his finger starts to tease your puffy clit through your drenched panties, “don’t tease—” 

“How can I not when you’ve nothing but tease me with your existence?” he pulls the crotch of your underwear aside, “I’ll oblige my favorite student this time—but I won’t be so nice next time,” he adds, biting your bottom lip. 

RING. RING. RING. 

It was his fucking office phone. You groan, but his finger continues to sink into you, “Suguru—” 

“Let it ring,” his lips find yours in a bruising kiss as his finger deliciously sinks into you, “I have all I need right here,” he whispers, and you pull him back into a kiss by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, your hand sliding up and down his chest, while he worked a finger into your cunt, “so fucking wet f’me, so perfect,” 

And your hand flies back to support yourself as a second finger begins to sink into you — but your hand grazes his office phone, and the messages begin to play back.

“Fuck, sorry,” you mumble, as you reach blindly for the phone, only to knock it back, as he chuckles and reaches behind you, trying but failing to help — your noses brushing, and he smiles before kissing you again. 

Mr. Geto, sorry we missed each other, I was calling, hoping that you would still be in office for the day, but I must have just missed you. I wanted to call to offer you the job as department head at Jujutsu Tech University: Kyoto—

You freeze, your lips parting from his as you look up at him, his eyes wide as he stops the message from playing back any further — and the words settle over the mood like a sheet pulled over a dead body. 

And you’re the first to speak, always asking the questions that will hurt you in the end, “You’re moving to Kyoto?” 

✧ a/n: so i'm sorry for that ending hahah, i promise there will be a happy ending later on for these two. thank you to @gaylatteart and @laneysmusings for betaing and just being the best. also if i tagged you please comment / reblog because tagging on tumblr sucks, it takes very long.

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @bash1018, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala, @ashhlsstuff, @blue041803, @mwtsxri, @bblgumfairy, @sukunasleftkneecap, @xo-evangeline, @fiannee, @teatreeoilll, @chalametet, @ryukaver, @d1gitalbathh, @saga3ious, @seventhcinema, @satosugucide, @your-l0nely-star, @sokkasmoon, @deegausserr, @hyookka, @oggsyy, @littlebitb, @higuchislut, @ti-mame, @itoshisins, @cerene-dipity, @onionsoop, @sinlillith, @izzythenaive, @akvrae, @lalacute03, @rxndou, @c-themoon, @xxrag-d0llxx, @hqtoge, @sugarxlumps, @hopeluna, @actualdeemon,

[kooktrash]

TEMPEST ☆ jeon jungkook

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

☆ genre/au: obsessed!jungkook x college student!y/n [afab, she/her]

☆ 31k words [😭]

warnings: soft yandere. smut. jk is a little delulu. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. underground streetfighter by night, gym owner by day. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—hes aggressive but he hides it. calvin klein jk. spoiler: he slutshames oc’s bff but she’s snakey. depictions of violence [streetfighter, aggressive, he beats a man with a brick deadass, and physically assaults someone]. He’s not a good guy. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough sëx. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. missionary. riding. needy and clingy jk. possessive jk. jk is good at pretending. jk has familial problems. severe abandonment issues. unprotected smüt but also only for one round [they go for two]. oc is aware of his red flags but does oc care?

tempest by deftones

There was something about someone seeming unattainable that always seemed to draw him in the most. It’s almost like he enjoyed making things harder for himself, like he wanted to make a game of it. Of course it wasn’t a good thing for him to do this especially not when it was at the expense of another person’s emotions but he couldn’t help it. When someone as beautiful and bright as the person across the bar from him catches his attention, how was he not supposed to want them for himself?

You didn’t look shy, maybe just quiet, or mysterious would suit you better. There was a sense of wariness around you that he could spot from a mile away with the gaze you used to eye the crowded bar. Everyone here looked more rugged, a mix of band tees, leather jackets, motorcycle boots and smoke clouding the air. Even the women around were more fit for a place like this with their deep shades of red lipsticks, low-cut tops and tight jeans whereas you seemed to illuminate in a different light.

“When you said you wanted to get a few drinks, this isn’t what I thought you meant,” you said with distaste as you spotted a reddish-brown stain on the cement flooring of the bar looking eerily similar to washed up blood. It made your fingers tighten around your small handbag and the pink pepper spray you had inside it. You pressed your legs more firmly together, deeply regretting the satin miniskirt you wore and how little it covered you from behind. In your defense, you thought you would be going to a relaxing lounge bar with expensive champagne and servers dressed in suit and tie… not some run-down bar on the wrong side of the tracks.

“It isn’t? I could’ve sworn I specified,” your best friend lied with a grin as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the bar, “And it’s fine, we’re meeting some guys here tonight and you’ll start feeling comfortable soon. Just don’t look so prissy, Y/n, you might get robbed.”

“Or worse than that,” you mumbled to yourself as she leaned over the counter without a care of how her tight dress raised from the back and smiled flirtatiously at the bartender. You circled your arms around yourself in an attempt to appear smaller and more closed off—also hoping to hide the exposed parts of your torso. While she did most of the talking, you took in more of the area with a faint scrunch of your nose, clearly displeased by it all.

It was somewhat small, beer posters and neon signs on the wall. The bar was a long strip filled with scary men with tattoos all looking at you and your friend. There were a few tables here and there, dart boards on one side and a couple pool tables scattered around too. It was technically a one-story building aside from the lofted area that only seemed big enough for another pool table or two and a line of slot machines. The lighting was dim but not dark and maybe that’s what made it so easy for you to notice the eye contact you made with someone else.

He was… intense. He had the structure of someone you would find attractive but the look in his eyes nearly drew you away with just that. It was hard to pull away from it and it made your heart race. It wasn’t the look you gave someone on accident, it was purposeful and long, one that demanded to be noticed. He held a pool cue in his hands and was with a group of men you could barely make out but there was no denying he was more focused on you than whatever happened around him.

“You made it!” A voice cut into the blur of noise that you had tuned out, and suddenly your attention was taken away from the stranger. You looked at the two guys in front of you, brows scrunched with confusion as you studied them. They couldn’t have been more opposite from the man you just looked at with their pastel colored button-ups that screamed of years spent in a Fraternity. Still, not the type who would come to a place like this.

“Sorry we’re late, I take full blame since I forgot my wallet and had to drive back for it but I’m here now and I’m hoping I haven’t missed anything,” one of them said to your friend, as he pulled her into a hug and his hand slid down to her waist. Sieun smiled, “No worries, we haven’t been here long anyway.”

She turned to you with her hand pinned to his toned chest and pressed to his side, “Y/n, this is Rowoon.”

“Hey,” the guy said with a cocky nod of his head before looking at his friend, “That’s Jisoo, he’s a good buddy of mine.”

You raised an impressed brow but looked at his friend who seemed to have a quieter, more toned down nature that made you feel a fraction less uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t care to be here either.

A familiar whooshing sound followed the movement of his pool cue as he aimed for a solid green number six and watched the ball sink into one of the holes. He couldn’t help but smile knowing how close he was to winning and only two more to go. With careful calculation to how he could make it in, he rounded the table looking for the best angle.

Facing the same direction as another earlier occurrence, he looked up for a second, searching the crowd below him with a quick sweep. The light he had found earlier was dimly lit behind a pair of lean shoulders that had his eyes narrowing. The guy’s back was to him and he towered over you obnoxiously that he could barely make you out. You weren’t at the bar anymore, now you were tucked away at some far table, smiling at whoever you talked to and he quickly did the math. Your friend and you had suddenly become four, two noticeable pairings that had him wondering if the pretty girl from earlier was taken. If so, how does he go about that obstacle? Does he still take his chances for a little bit of fun?

“Hurry it up man, I’m gonna piss myself already,” his friend, Hoseok, nearly cried as he shook his leg, tightening his grip on his pool cue. Jungkook didn’t say anything as he looked at you one more time, eying suspiciously at the sight of your smile disappearing and an awkward glance toward your friend replacing it.

He angled himself with the cue and aimed for a yellow number two before looking over, hardening his gaze as he watched you hold a hand up to the guy as if asking for some distance. He shot the cue without meaning to, and failed to notice how he pocketed the 8 ball too soon and lost.

“Well that was shit,” Namjoon sneered as he pushed off the high table he was leaning against and took Jungkook’s cue from him, “I thought you were better than this.”

Hoseok practically ran to the nearest bathroom as he won the round and Yoongi took his place, “Wow, he really is about to pee himself.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook huffed as he looked toward the staircase, “I think I’m gonna get another drink, go on without me.”

“Bring me one,” Yoongi called out but Jungkook was already heading down the steps, shouting back a quick, ‘Get it yourself’, and disappearing.

“Brat,” Yoongi muttered under his breath as he took the small chalk square and rubbed it on the tip of his cue.

“No, I don’t think I owe you anything, actually,” you said with an annoyed sigh as you looked up at Jisoo. What you had hoped would be a somewhat comfortable night quickly turned left when you realized the two guys Sieun invited were nothing but entitled law students wanting to get their dick wet. You should have recognized it sooner, it would have saved you all this time if you just went home instead of following along with your best friend’s ploy.

It had been alright at first but then the drinks became a couple too many and suddenly the nice guy you thought Jisoo was became an arrogant manchild who’s upset you won’t let him grind against you for a song.

“Come on, don’t be such a bitch about it, it’s just dancing,” Rowoon said, apparently attempting to play matchmaker for his best friend to get some tonight too. Your brows raised in disbelief before looking down at Sieun who seemed stunned. She was leaning against him with his arm secured around her waist and she made no move to pull away from him either.

“Y/n,” she bit her lip nervously, “You are acting kind of stuck up, they’ve been buying us drinks all night.”

A scoff left your lips, “Because they wanted to, Sieun. I never asked nor did I promise anything.”

“Whatever man, it’s not even worth it,” Jisoo said as he looked at his friend, “I knew you were going to have us hang out with spoiled bitches tonight.”

“Is that a way to talk about a someone standing right in front of you?” A deep voice cut in from a couple feet away and it took you all a moment to realize they were talking to Jisoo. You looked behind him at the man from upstairs, throat tightening in surprise by his darker aura up close. He was attractive, godly, and you couldn’t deny it when he stood near you now. He looked down at you with that familiar gaze from earlier and only looked away when Jisoo processed his intrusion.

“Hey, why don’t you turn around and mind your business, bro,” Jisoo said with a scoff. You looked at Sieun with worry but her eyes were trained on the stranger as he glared at Jisoo.

“I can’t when you’re shouting out your business for anyone to hear,” Jungkook said with a tight smile, “It just sounds like you can’t handle rejection, bro.”

“Is this guy bothering you?” He asked you in a gentle tone, not caring for the eyes on him as he grew closer to you, “I was just at the bar and I heard some of what he was saying and… well, I just couldn’t stand by when he disrespected you. I didn’t feel like it was right.”

“Yo, why don’t you fuck off already?” Rowoon asked as he pushed Jungkook by the shoulder, “Don’t create a problem where there isn’t or I swear I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Jungkook asked as he stood straighter, “You’ll stick up for your buddy here? Because if that’s the case I can call a couple of my friends down too and make it a little more fair.”

As if called upon, they looked up to where Jungkook pointed and met Namjoon’s glare. The three were still playing pool but found what was taking Jungkook so long and looked down. You looked up too, mouth dry with anxiety as you turned to Sieun but she seemed intent on sticking to Rowoon’s side. The safest thing to do was to get away from a suddenly messy situation and take your friend home but she was more interested in talking Rowoon down instead.

Jungkook just smiled as he took a step back, “But that’s not necessary, I really just wanted to check on if she was alright or not so I can leave you guys alone now.”

You waited for the stranger to head back to the bar to speak and all you could do was call out to your friend. “Sie—“

“Whatever, fuck this shit is lame,” Jisoo huffed once the stranger was too far for earshot, “You guys do what you want I’m going somewhere else.”

“Yeah,” Rowoon said, trying to pry Sieun’s hands off him, “It’s gotten dead here anyway. I got what I wanted so let’s have fun somewhere else.”

“Wait for me,” she said giddily and you scoffed. She still wanted to go with them? “Sieu—“

“Look, if you don’t want to come out with us that’s fine but I’m not going to be rejected just because you aren’t into your guy,” she rushed to say as she began to walk away from you, “Call Jin, or an Uber and text me when you’re home.”

You looked taken back, surprised by her tone and it had your eyes narrowing with a sense of annoyance. You watched her walk off without you, completely surprised by her audacity to just leave you alone at a place you were clearly already uncomfortable at. You assumed you would be meeting up with others tonight but not somewhere like and not people like those guys. Sieun knew all along what she was dragging you into and wanted to paint you like the problem when you didn’t follow along to everything. They called you a bitch for fuck’s sake.

It was obvious what she said had been somewhat of a bluff considering she looked back at you like she still expected you to follow after her. Instead, you stood back looking indifferent to her departure and waited till she was out of sight to let yourself worry.

The spring night air was still chilly, too cold to be outside waiting for an Uber in the clothes you wore and you didn’t want to stand out there alone anyway. Your best bet was to wait at the crowded bar and pray no one put anything in your drink or something.

Jungkook was evidently surprised to see you alone out of the blue and sitting on the stool next to his, not bothering to even look his way as you focused on your cell phone. He couldn’t help but bite back a smile, thinking of what he should say and how he should say it. You barely reacted to him earlier but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. It was all about timing and patience.

“I’m sorry for butting in earlier,” Jungkook said in a gentle tone that drew your attention toward him, “It wasn’t my place at all and I should have just ignored it but I heard them go on for a while and no one was doing anything to stop it and I guess I just acted without thinking.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, simply looked at him as if debating if it was even worth your time to respond. With a polite smile you said, “It’s fine, but thank you.”

“No problem,” he cleared his throat, “But uh, you shouldn’t surround yourself with guys like that.”

“Trust me I don’t,” you sighed, “It’s the first time I’m meeting them and it’ll also be the last. Sorry you got dragged into it.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook said as he looked down at his drink thinking of what to say, “I uh… well, I saw you earlier and I guess it was the perfect excuse to talk to you. Does that make me seem like a hypocrite? Here I go trying to save you from being hit on while I wanted to do the same, shit.”

His suddenly shy and flustered demeanor amused you in a way you hadn’t expected. His exterior was rough with his tattoos, dark clothing and obvious chiseled body underneath. He also sported facial piercings you rarely get to see in person and he didn’t seem like the type to blush yet here he was with red cheeks and a nervous smile. It made you more keen on talking to him, made you feel flattered to leave him in such a state if you were being honest.

“I think I would have preferred if it was you instead,” You confessed, remembering back to the eye content you two held with each other when you first got to the bar. He had definitely taken notice of you from the beginning.

Your response caught him off guard and he had to stop his eyes from trailing down to your lips just to see how they looked when you said it. A smirk threatened to show as he sat straighter, “You’re making me blush. I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, I mean.”

“Y/n,” you said shortly as you looked at his soft rounded eyes that stared back into your own with curiosity. They were focused entirely on you again, “L/n.”

Y/n.

Y/n.

“So Y/n…” he swallowed dryly, “I see your… friends are gone, what are you going to do?” He sucked in his cheek to keep his expression still as he watched you crane your neck out with an exaggerated sigh. In all honesty, it was the perfect amount of exposure for him to press his lips to your delicate skin and leave a soft trail of kisses in their wake.

He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but you were so appetizing like he wanted to have a taste. Just one.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted as you looked down at your phone, “I’ve just been waiting for my ride to get here, but I should probably get going now.”

“Can I walk you out?” He asked. All it took was a simple nod of your head for him to be getting off the stool, stretching a hand out to you and helping you down. You took a moment to adjust your skirt that had risen when you were sitting and let him take your hand once more as you walked out.

It’s so strange knowing that if Jisoo had acted better, there was a chance you would be walking hand and hand with him instead. What was stranger was how your eyes had been on Jungkook at first too.

Eyes followed behind you like they had when you arrived and it made you nervous all over again. There was one thing to know people were looking at you, it was another to know people were glaring at you. Even if it wasn’t maliciously it felt like a lot to be stared at in a room you had never been in. Not to mention half of the men here gave you the serious creeps and now that you weren’t distracted by conversation, their wandering eyes were more noticeable.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Jungkook stepped back to say into your ear over the loud music, essentially pulling you closer to him, “You don’t look like the type to hang around these parts.”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, walking a little bit quicker to stay close. He slowed his walk to match yours better and cleared room for you to walk ahead of him as you went on, “Are you?”

“Am I?” He asked with slight confusion before he could fully process what you said and in an attempt to brush it off, he simply said, “Every now and then if I want something more lowkey.”

The two of you made it out in one piece but the red tesla Uber X that was supposed to pick you up was still a couple minutes away and it was cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself immediately after the cold hit and your teeth chattered loudly that he couldn’t help but look down at you. He didn’t want to grab you but he didn’t want you to freeze either, so he stepped closer so that you nearly touched and tried blocking you from the direction the chilly night air was blowing.

“You don’t have to wait with me, you’re probably cold too,” you said between trembling teeth, nearly jumping in place to warm yourself up. Jungkook just smiled as he looked down at you, “And leave you out here all by yourself? No thanks, I’m feeling fine, you’re the one who looks like you could use some more warmth.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, leaning into him without meaning to and feeling the body heat radiate off of him and cast you with a hint of warmth you desperately needed. If you had forgotten about Sieun ditching you for two guys, you remembered now and very clearly at that. She was probably off having fun and doing what they want while you practically froze outside.

“Come here,” he whispered gently, taking the initiative to just go for it and pull you into his arms. You were hesitant to let a stranger touch you — no matter how attractive he was — but it was just for a short moment while your Uber was a couple blocks away. You tucked yourself into him feeling his hands run up and down your arms as if to offer you further warmth and hugged you close.

You stayed against him for as long as you needed to until your ride was finally pulling up to where you stood and confirming you were their customer.

“Get home safe,” Jungkook told you and without thinking, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a goodbye before getting in the car with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown his way like it was nothing.

It took Jungkook a moment to bounce back. His face felt flushed and warmer than necessary and he stood at the end of the street watching the red Tesla drive off with his newest infatuation inside it.

“See, he didn’t leave.”

“Aye, Jungkook, mind telling us where you’re headed?” Hoseok asked as his friends from upstairs followed him out the club, “They thought you were ditching us for some chick.”

“Where’d she go anyway?” Yoongi asked, staring down the direction Jungkook was still facing, “And where’s her little friend? She was cute too.”

He thought about you for days. The very little amount of information he learned the other night played on a loop in his mind and he tried to dissect every little thing as if it’d help get closer to you. He hoped for anything that could fill the space of deep regret. How stupid could he be to not ask for your number?

It was such a rookie mistake and it made him want to gnaw at his skin. He had the chance to try and pursue it further and he had been too distracted by your innocent kiss to think properly. There were so many chances where he could’ve asked for your number but instead he just blanked. And how could he let himself be so distracted?

He’s hyper aware of his looks and how easy it was for him to charm someone but he never did anything about it. Every now and then he might indulge in time spent with someone else but anytime it started feeling a little too intense for his liking, he would end it quickly. Usually, he didn’t have to make the first move and people come to him. It makes it easier to turn them down that way too but he acted on impulse when he cut in. He wanted to get closer and once he’d done that he forgot how to act apparently.

How could he not ask for your number?

“You nervous?” Namjoon asked as he helped Jungkook wrap his hands with gauze. He was silent while Namjoon worked around him and it’s rare to not see him readying himself for a match. Jungkook could barely hear him speak as he listened to some rock song on full blast through his headphones. His mouth was practically sewn shut with how tight he held his jaw in place and his leg bounced with adrenaline.

When Namjoon freed one of his hands, he knocked the headphones off and looked at his friend, “What?”

“Are you nervous?” Namjoon asked again with a smirk this time, “You’re zoning out on me more than usual.”

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Jungkook said as he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror of the locker room. The room was ugly green from old fluorescent lights and it reeked of sweaty gym equipment making it feel gloomy. It made him feel dirty.

He thought about you and your pretty outfit, the way it hugged your shape promiscuously in all the right places but also felt shy. Maybe that was part of your charm aside from your strong eye contact. You presented yourself shyly but he had a feeling that wasn’t the full truth of it. As if underneath your worrisome exterior, you had enough confidence to not need attention on you—even when you already have it. At least that’s what he thought when he saw you down in the crowd for the first time.

You had gone from someone attractive he had caught a glimpse of to someone he wanted to talk to. All you had to do was catch his eyes with yours and you had him thinking about you for days. When you willingly stepped into his arms and kissed his cheek, it had actually made him flustered. It was unexpected and cute, made his heart race just a little. Is that why he couldn’t let you be? Was it because his heart raced annoyingly while his head told him to let it go?

Stupid.

He was so stupid to let you go.

“It’s time.”

Namjoon gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder and the two left the room ready to start. He played with the tape over his eyebrow piercing as he began to feel the slight rush set in when he was readying for a fight. The crowd was loud and cheering on whoever they were betting and most had a tendency to bet on him.

The opponent across from him was taller with broader shoulders and bleached blond spiky hair. He was glaring at Jungkook like he was trying to intimidate him but he just walked onto the mat calmly. The cheers around him grew louder, all chanting his name knowing he’d be taking home another win tonight.

The fight was going to be simple tonight, no eye gouging specifically but aside from that, no rules. He preferred them that way, he could practically do anything he wanted to win and he used everything he had, every time.

Just one, simple round.

”Look, I swear I didn't invite those guys again, plus Jimin is already here,” Sieun promised for the third time tonight as she pulled you closer to the front of the line where security was checking ID’s and taking fees. After nearly a week of ignoring her because of how she ditched you the past weekend, you grew bored of it and when she reached out to you, you responded. She does a lot of things to annoy you but you never care much to stay mad especially after knowing her for a couple years now. You were originally roommates your first year and developed into friends quickly after that.

She's more of a party girl than you are but it’s never bothered you before, even when some of the men she chooses to surround herself around are questionable. In all honesty, you don’t know how many friends she has aside from you and Jimin.

“I thought you guys were gonna cancel on me,” your friend said as he met with you two at the front. It was loud with flashing club lights and music that blared through your eardrums. He looked uncomfortable with everyone around but he tried to mask it with a smile.

Like yourself, Jimin rarely chose to go out so you would often find yourselves hanging out while scrolling through Sieun’s many posts of how great her night was. It was a choice and that’s why he was so hesitant to agree this time around. You practically had to beg him to join after Sieun begged you to come along too. There was some sort of underground ‘rave’ tonight at some abandoned warehouse not far from downtown and she had been buzzing about it for days.

You don’t even know where she heard of a place like this and when she waved the pink flier in front of your face, you were worried and curious. Now you find yourself surrounded by sweaty bodies drunk and high off who knows what while you try to anchor your worrying thoughts on your friend.

“I got you drinks,” he said, handing you both a cup, looking you up and down quickly and shifting his gaze away nervously. Sieun took hers and looked around, “Oh my god it’s so loud in here. There’s so many people, isn’t it fun?”

“Just don't run off like last time, we can’t afford to go looking for you again,” Jimin added, remembering back to the last time she got the two of you to come out with her. It was around Halloween and she left to go take shots with someone and before you knew it, she was gone. Her phone was in your purse after whining that she didn’t have pockets and it wasn’t until the next day you found out she made out with some guy before he paid for her cab to go home telling you how she blacked out.

“Jimin, don’t act like my dad and let’s just have fun,” she said, taking his hand in hers, trying to get his limp fingers to lace with her own, “I’ve got my two favorite people tonight.”

“Let’s take a shot then,” Jimin said with a sigh, letting go of her hand and turning toward you, flustered. You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re such a pushover, y’know.”

“Yeah, whatever, it’s hard not to be when I’m friends with you two,” he joked as the three of you walked to the bar, “And just for clarification, I’m more of a pushover when it comes to you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked playfully as you got to the bar first, leaning against it as you waited for the bartender to notice you.

“Last weekend when you showed up at my door and crashed on my bed,” Jimin reminded you of the Saturday before. In a slightly tipsy mistake, you had been too annoyed with Sieun to do anything thoroughly and when you scheduled an Uber it was to Jimin’s place not yours. It had been the last saved address put into the app and you hadn’t cared to notice your mistake until you were so close to his apartment that there was nothing you really thought to do. It didn’t help that you had been distracted by the events of that night and the small moments with a handsome stranger.

“You let me in, you could’ve turned me away,” you joked knowing that he never would. You woke him up out of his sleep with a phone call asking to be let up and he tiredly let you kick him off his bed making him sleep in the living room. The next day you told him what happened [leaving out certain parts ] and he ignored Sieun because you did and he forgave her when you did.

A scoff left his lips, “Like I ever could.”

“What can I get you guys?”

You looked away from Jimin quickly, unsure how to feel after his mumbled words and quickly told the bartender what you wanted. An audible sigh was heard from his lips as he turned to Sieun, ready to feel her prying eyes mocking him silently like she usually did when the three were together. She seems to think he’s just your little shadow but he’s not.

“Where’s Sieun?” He asked suddenly, shifting his gaze back to you, “Did she go to the restroom?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, grabbing your card out of your wallet to pay, “She didn’t say anything?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin huffed, “I’m gonna look around real quick, just stay there.”

In all honesty, Jimin was kind of thankful for Sieun’s disappearance. He could take a moment and rethink what was on his mind. Tonight was not the night to ask you out, especially not at a place like this and not with Sieun who he was sure had already drank a little bit before getting here. She was a good girl but sometimes she was reckless and he cared about her too so he left to find her and escape you.

The warehouse was in decent condition for being turned into a club like this and big enough to get lost in. It was shameful to admit how easy it was for Jimin to get lost.

After the fight, Jungkook had a heavy sense of adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His win was a given and with a promise to buy his friends drinks tonight, he went out to celebrate, landing himself at the same place as you for the second time in his life.

One might think it was just coincidental that they both attended the same place a second week in a row or you could look at it from a different perspective. Once again, Jungkook was given a second chance. You had been on his mind for days and it must’ve worked some string of fate to bring you together again and he couldn’t let that go.

You haven’t noticed him yet but he doesn’t blame you. The place was huge and dark so even if he sat across the squared bar counter, you couldn’t see him past the bottles at the center and the bartenders checking each side. He could only see you because of one of the strobe lights that kept casting you in a green glow. He recognized your features quickly and was reminded all over again of the strange trance you seemed to put him in.

Jungkook wasn’t oblivious to the guy you had been talking to for a while and unlike last time, you didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. You seemed to enjoy his company and when he left in the same direction your bitch of a friend did, you looked sad. He watched and waited while you did, the minutes passing by and still standing alone he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer.

Jimin and Sieun took forever and the longer you stayed hogging the bar while people tried to order, the more uncomfortable you got being alone. It’s the only reason why you chose to go and find your friends yourself, hoping they weren’t off arguing somewhere.

The last thing you wanted to do was get through the thick crowds to find your friends when you could barely see through strobe lights and random flashes of blue or red. Faces blurred together with deep shadows that barely let you see anyone clearly and your cell service was awful right now. It left you at a stand still, unsure which direction to take and annoyed by it.

In the mix of unfamiliar faces, one began to change and it didn’t take long for you to recognize him. Jungkook didn’t shy away from your soft glare, looking at you with a glint of adrenaline. His heart was pounding in his chest making his mouth feel dry in surprise. He closed the space between you, taking in your appearance in front of him and with an urge to smile, and shyly pointed out, “You again.”

“Me?” You questioned dumbly, still trying to wrap your mind around this coincidence. How is it that you’ve run into this stranger twice and so suddenly? Sure, you thought about him briefly and you assumed that was the end of it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Jungkook said. Your brows furrowed together and he’ll admit your look of confusion hurt him a little. Had you already forgotten all about him and was he just making a fool of himself this time? As he waited for you to respond, his nails pushed into his palm in a closed fist trying to ease his nerves.

“Why?” You asked, barely giving him any sort of response before it was his turn again. You too thought you’d never see him again yet you asked because you wanted to know his reasoning.

Despite his growing anxiety that he was the only one who couldn’t get you out of his head, he smoothed his tone and said, “Because you make me nervous.”

“You’re lying,” you said with the hint of a smile that encouraged him to keep going.

“I’m not,” Jungkook admitted truthfully, a soft look in his eyes as he said, “And you have no idea how mad I was that I didn’t get your number.”

When you didn’t say anything it made his smile falter, “Or did you already forget all about me?”

With a roll of your eyes, you released a small sigh and shook your head no. If anything you were forgetting your search for your friends because he was too distracting. A new smile spread across his features and he looked down at your full hands, “You plan on drinking all that yourself?”

It’s obvious they were for you and your bitch of a friend [who he remembers clearly ditching you for guys who insulted you], and some guy. Something inside him is asking who the guy was and if it was someone he should worry about being in his way but he’s decided to ignore it. Until you make it known that you don’t like his interest in you, he’s not planning on stopping.

You looked down at the drinks he was referring to and without thinking, you thrusted one toward him, “No, why don’t you take one?” As you juggled the three drinks in your hands, he was so close to grabbing one when a group of drunken people pushed past you to the bar, pressing you toward him.

His focus was on keeping you upright and in his arms rather than the three red cups that were crushed between you, or the cold liquid that spilled down the front of your dress. A soft gasp left your lips, stumbling into him as he held you up but locked eyes with one of the people who bumped into you. The guy didn’t even bother apologizing and that annoyed Jungkook even more. He looked up at Jungkook, feeling his glare on him that you didn’t even seem to notice as you worried more about the front of your dress being drenched in alcohol.

“Hey” Jungkook said over the loud music and the guy scoffed, rolling his eyes and attempting to follow his group. He moved to stand in front of him, same height but bigger build and said, “Don’t you think you should apologize?”

The guy tried to ignore him but Jungkook made it hard. He stood in front of him, little space between them and it was so obvious he was intimidating him. Jungkook watched the guy look back at you as you tried to dry off the front of your dress, he muttered a useless apology. You rolled your eyes, turning to Jungkook instead as you said, “I’m gonna go dry off.”

He let you walk off without much of a worry as he looked around. Your friends were nowhere to be seen and you left to the bathroom so he had a moment to think of what to do. He wanted to be somewhere you could easily find him, or that he could easily find you. At his feet, a bright screen lit up on the floor capturing his attention and without hesitating, he leant down to pick up the phone, recognizing the familiar wallpaper he had seen nights ago when you sat at the bar with him. Two notifications were stacked at the top and he couldn’t help but read them.

jimin: we’re upstairs

jimin: come

The phone has a passcode but he could still read the messages and without thinking, he cleared the notification away and followed after you.

He was not going to miss his chance again.

It took you minutes to dry off alone in the washroom, annoyed by the entire thing. Aside from getting soaked with the stench of alcohol, you were once again reminded that you’ve got no idea where your friends are. You liked seeing Jungkook but you’re still feeling alone somewhere you’re not used to. You need to call either Jimin or Sieun and bitch them out for leaving. Once you finished dabbing dry as much of it as possible, you felt around for your phone.

Your eyes widened suddenly, realizing it wasn’t with you and you felt the unbelievable weight of fear making its way into your fear wondering where it went. You rushed out of the packed washroom to start your search and came to a full stop as you stepped into the dark hallway.

A smile spread across Jungkook’s face, holding your phone up and waiting down the hall for you to find him. Your hands circled his as you took it from his hand, “Oh my god, thank you.”

You quickly checked your notifications screen for any sign that your friends were still alive and rolled your eyes when you found it blank. If they weren��t going to reach out to you then whatever, you were just going to do what you want. You tilted your head to the side in thought, looking up at him and asking, “Dance with me.”

“Okay,” he smiled warmly, holding your hand and letting you lead him to the music, already swaying your hips to the sound of the music. He let his free hand find the curve of your waist and pulled you toward him happily.

“You’re so pretty,” he said against your neck, soft touch tracing along your hips as they molded against his to the rhythm of the song playing. When your hands touched his all he could think about is how soft they felt. His fingers were rough and bruised from all the fighting he’s done while yours felt more delicate.

“Do I still make you nervous?” You asked playfully, turning to face him, your chest against his as he kept his arms secure on your sides.

“Extremely,” he looked into your eyes, “Especially right now that I’ve got you here with me again.”

Now, before anyone pegs you as the type, you’ve never been one to do things on such a whim. Usually, it took more to get you to show interest in a guy enough to want to sleep with him and that’s why this was so confusing. All you wanted to do was act out and get your hands on Jungkook.

Your decision was sudden and the only reason why you had the courage to tilt his chin down and press your lips against his. Jungkook was quick to respond, eager and hungry to taste you on his tongue. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you so close that it felt suffocating.

“Mm,” you hummed, pushing against him to catch your breath, “Was that too much?”

You both had shaky breaths that left you panting for air. Jungkook didn’t bother to respond as he leaned in for another kiss. This time around, Jungkook kissed you with more purpose.

The first one was on impulse, you kissed but did you really feel anything? He was too rushed and nervous to kiss you right that it felt shallow. Of course it still left him breathless with excitement but he wanted to feel it. When he kissed you the second time, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Jungkook was a good kisser, his lips were surprisingly soft and once you got used to the feel of his lip rings, you kinda liked them. You didn’t even think about everyone around you.

Your friends were so far out of your mind and all you could think about is Jungkook. He was intoxicating in a way. You know nothing about him but you want him and you can’t seem to get enough.

“It’s crowded in here,” You gasped for breath as he kissed down your jaw toward your neck. He was unbothered by the people who watched him, more interested in the way your body seemed to whither against his with each kiss he trailed lower. Your words nearly went past him but they registered enough for him to stop and catch his breath. He looked at you with a dark gaze that reeked of desire.

“Do you want to get out of here then?” He asked, sliding his hand down to yours and pulling you through the thick crow. He made his way through the dark warehouse with ease, not once thinking of the friends he was supposed to be celebrating with tonight. He found a better way to celebrate his win and it was with you and him standing outside with his lips on yours.

He wished he could say he remembers how everything happened but he can’t. He doesn’t want to remember the agony of driving to your place without the need to feel you again. He couldn’t keep his hand off you, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. It wasn’t enough and he had to bite on his bottom lip to keep from jumping over to kiss you at every stop light. You were too distracted telling him directions to notice the way he itched for more but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head either.

There was just something about Jungkook that you wanted at this moment and you don’t even know why. He was attractive, so attractive that it was hard to believe him when he says you make him nervous. A guy like Jungkook is nervous because of you? You wanted, no, needed to know why.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked him shyly once you were in the comfort of your apartment. It was big for one person and littered with things he wanted to learn more about.

“Sure,” Jungkook said with his back to you as he took it all in. There was a backpack on a chair in the corner of the living room and beside it were a stack of textbooks telling him you were most likely in school. He assumed you’d be somewhere in your twenties, possibly younger than him or even around his age.

There was a wall of framed photos of you with friends, some where you looked obviously younger than now and others that seemed more recent. He found the two people you were with tonight in a couple of them and his eyes lingered a little longer on the guy.

He wasn’t in a lot of pictures but he was in enough for Jungkook to notice. In one of them, it was you, Jimin, and some other guy to your side. It looked like a group dinner and if he goes based off the numerous college apparel he found sported by the group, he assumed it was some sort of class gathering. You looked cute with glasses and it took him by surprise to see how different you looked tonight. You looked good either way but he didn’t know the side to you that these pictures showed and he wanted to.

Like this pretty one where you laid in bed with a cat on your stomach, resting casually and effortlessly stunning. Is that what you looked like in the morning?

“Here,” you came up behind him and handed him a glass of wine. Jungkook took it with thanks and turned to face you, “Wow.”

“What?” You asked with a slight scoff. Jungkook shrugged as he tipped back his glass for a drink, “Is it my pictures? Ignore them, I look horrendous in some of them but I need them for the memories.”

“Wow, as in I’m with a pretty girl who’s been on my mind since the first time we met and I can’t believe it,” Jungkook said, taking a step closer to you.

You couldn’t help but smirk when you watched him set the glass down on the coffee table and walk toward you, “You’re a little too good with your words, yknow.”

“Really?” Jungkook asked, circling your waist with his hands, dipping his head to meet yours, “You think it’s because I’m telling the truth?”

“Is that it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him pull you into him, “I take it you’re not nervous anymore.”

“Terrifyingly nervous, actually,” he whispered, lips brushing against yours teasingly, “Because I still want to kiss you.”

You kissed him suddenly but he was ready for it and crushed you against him. His fingers were shaking to unzip the back of your dress and he had to remind himself to be patient. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him, just that he wants you.

He pressed himself closer to you, tongue slipping past his lips and to yours. Somewhere between the way your tongues danced for control, he had gotten the top of your zipper unhooked and was letting it fall apart along your back. It happened so quickly you gasped and circled your arms around his neck hoping to keep the dress from falling and exposing the expanse of your naked body too soon. He distracted you with his mouth along your jaw while his hands roamed your smooth back, feeling you without a barrier and letting his fingertips buzz with want.

He circled his hands down to your hips, tightening his grip and you got the hint quickly, throwing your legs around his waist as he carried you, not once breaking the kiss. You panted, out of breath, and a little shocked by the pace of it all. You weren’t complaining but you also weren’t expecting him to unzip your dress and hoist you up so easily.

He followed where you pointed and kicked your bedroom door open without a care to how hard it slammed against the wall or how hard he shut it back before he was throwing you onto your bed.

“I usually have more patience,” Jungkook spoke in a low, raspy tone as he reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it off, “But you have to understand, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

You would’ve responded back about how he has been on your mind too if you hadn’t been so distracted by the veins running down his V-line. His abdomen was nothing but solid muscle and his tattoos went farther that you had first originally thought. He had a pretty body, and you were staring at it too hard to articulate a response. He unbutton his jeans, kicking them off and looked at you with a darkened gaze.

As if moving mechanically, you pulled at the straps of your dress, letting it fall off your shoulders and pulled it the rest of the way thanks to his earlier help. It slipped to your feet and he knelt on the bed to help you remove it completely, hovering over your now naked body and staring down at it.

“Now I’m the one feeling nervous,” you admitted in a teasing tone as you pressed your thighs together knowing the only things separated his manhood from your heat was your thin lace underwear and his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook heard what you said but he couldn’t understand it. How could you feel nervous? why do you close your thighs and try to hide your bare chest from his eyes?

Do you not realize how perfect you are to him? From the length of your legs to the figure he liked to trace with his hands. He found you beautiful from head to toe and with you laying bare beneath him, he could really appreciate it.

Jungkook couldn’t think of the right words for you to know how lovely you looked to him, so instead he kissed your neck, practically pushing your head into the pillows. His hands traced along your sides, caressing teasingly whenever he got too close to your breasts and made a move to touch them but trailing down the last second. It made you arch your back off the bed wanting to feel more and he took it as his sign to keep going.

“Pretty, Angel,” he whispered softly, kissing your neck down to your collarbone, moving down toward your chest. He pressed teasing kisses to the soft mounds, his hands circling the underside and squeezing lightly as he kissed over one of your buds, “So fucking pretty.”

You gasped in surprise when his teeth ghosted over your hardened nipples and soothed the rough feeling with his tongue while his other hand pinched your bud between his index finger and thumb.

His hair tickled your chin and collarbone and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through it, feeling him smirk against your skin and scoot down more. He kissed down your stomach, annoyingly skipped over where you craved him most, and kissed your thighs. When you felt the urge to hurry him along, he knew exactly when to slip his fingers under your lace underwear and pulled them down.

“Fuck,” you gasped ever so lightly when he spread your thighs apart giving you absolutely no way to conceal your obvious arousal. Jungkook loved it, he loved the sight of your exposed pussy to his hungry eyes. He liked that he could see your clit and the slick that huddled at your center, wondering how it would taste when he ran his tongue along it. And he’s never been one for much self control when he really wanted something, so he went for it.

Your legs threatened to shut the moment his tongue made contact with your clit in a long, teasing lick but he held the open. Your immediate reaction to his touch made his dick harden in his briefs and he pressed it into the mattress for some pressure as he wrapped his lips around your clit in a kiss while his tongue swiped over it. It was obvious to you now that Jungkook was highly experienced in pleasuring someone and it showed in how he licked down your folds, collecting arousal on his tongue and coating your clit with it.

Your head sunk into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling trying to contain the small whimpers that nearly slipped past your lips but it was hard. He was so attentive with his mouth, making sure to tease all of your cunt but making sure to go back to your clit because that’s where you would respond the most. When he looked up at you and found you looking elsewhere with your bottom lip between your teeth, he hadn’t liked it. He released one of your thighs letting it fall over his shoulder while his hand snaked its way along your body, running over your tits and dragged along your neck.

He felt the way your breath caught in your throat when he pulled at your bottom lip, tracing the curve of it with his fingers before pushing them into your open mouth. You curled your tongue around his middle and index fingers, coating them in saliva and gagging lightly when he pressed them a little too deep. All the while, his mouth worked tricks on your pussy.

When Jungkook felt that his fingers were wet enough, he pulled them out of your mouth and felt you pant at the release. He brought his hand down by his face, pulling at your labia and teasing the folds with his fingertips. It was all you got for warning when his lips sucked at your clit and he pressed his middle finger into your wet cunt. Even with just one, you felt tight and he didn’t have to patience to wait before the second one joined.

“Oh,” you moaned helplessly, hand blindly searching the sheets for something to hold before trailing over your thighs until you found purchase in Jungkook’s hair. It was all the guidance he needed to thrust his fingers in and out in rhythm with the way his tongue circled patterns into your clit. You shook your head with pleasure, “I can’t.”

Jungkook didn’t pull back when you squeezed your thighs around his head. Your grip in his hair didn’t ease and he knew you wouldn’t want him to stop now matter what you said so he didn’t. He hooked his fingers into the soft tissue inside your walls, knowing it was your pleasure spot by the way your moans grew.

It was now while he ate out your pussy and fingered you to bliss, that you called bluff on his so-called nervousness around you. No man he claimed to be nervous around you had ever pleasured you the way he has, not this conf

“Jungkook,” you whined, tugging at his hair and dragging a groan from his lips at the sudden pull, “Can’t wait anymore.”

He heard you clearly but he kept going, he kissed your clit harder and fingered you deeper until your walls tightened around them so much that he couldn’t pull them out. He could practically feel the knot forming in your stomach and when he felt as though it could fall apart, he stopped.

An impatient whine slipped past your lips as your legs shook with anticipation for what had been coming and you glared up at him. He was pulling his briefs off, reaching for a condom packet that had been tucked away in his car that he grabbed while you weren’t looking.

“What, baby? Thought you said you couldn’t wait anymore,” He teased as he tore into the packaging with his teeth and brought a hand down to his hard member. You wished you were being dramatic when you thought it was the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, but it was. It was long, not too thin with just the right amount of girth and he was around average in length. Just the right amount to reach that spot that made your toes curl. He was also clean shaven, the veins down his V-line led straight to his cock and their prominence was mouth watering when he stroked himself for friction.

And Jungkook was well aware of the way your eyes traced down his naked body and it only made him smirk. He worked out so often he probably lived at the gym, he ate an appropriate diet, he was fit and healthy. He worked hard to look the way he did and it was obvious you liked it all. He slipped the condom on slowly, letting you imagine how your own hands would feel curled around him and moaned.

“You can touch if you want,” once again he was teasing you, smirking as he said it and crawled onto the bed.

“You’re kind of cocky for someone who claims to be nervous around me,” you groaned against his lips as you sat up to kiss him, following his lead as he laid down on his back and pulled you onto his lap.

He grinned, guiding your hips to align with his and he could practically feel your pussy take him in. His cock stood straight at attention, directly pointed to your entrance and you teased his tip by softly grinding in it. He took a deep breath, feeling it catch at your hole and without warning, pressed your thighs down and made you take him in.

“Fuck,” you both moaned softly as you sank down his length. You pressed your hands to his chest for support as you adjusted to the intrusion and lifted your hips slowly, feeling the stretch and forcing it away. Jungkook kept his hands on your hips, not moving you but keeping you in place when you began to fuck yourself with his cock. You were hesitant at first, shy as you dragged your hips up but after a while, you began bouncing. Your pace had picked up and you weren’t as careful taking him in when you came down on his cock.

“That’s it,” he moaned, fingers digging into your hips, “Keep going.”

You tossed your head back in pleasure, doing as told and letting him walk you through it as you went faster. You never expected him to be someone who liked when the other was on top but damn did he look good beneath you.

Jungkook’s hair was coated in sweat and he had the arm with the tattoos holding your waist. His lip piercing was pulled between his teeth to hold back his moans and his cock felt so big inside you. The muscles in his abdomen flexed everytime your walls squeezed around him and after a while you didn’t notice that he began to take over.

His hands were now moving your hips for you setting it at a quicker and rough pace for his liking. His hips met yours every time you went down and his dick reached a deeper part inside you when he did so. It prodded at your pleasure spot like it knew exactly where it was each time and when it felt like your arms couldn’t support your weight anymore, he pulled you down.

“So good,” you slurred on your words as you fell against his chest, feeling him fuck you roughly from below and move your hips for you while you hugged him.

“Mhm, baby, you feel so good,” he grunted.m, bouncing you on his cock feeling his orgasm build up intensely, “So fucking tight.”

“Jungkook,” you moaned, “Kiss me.”

He did.

He rolled you onto your back, tired of being stuck below you and nearly folded you in half when he raised your legs up. He kissed you harshly, thrusting back into you with more vigor when you moaned for him.

He can’t remember the last time sex ever felt this good—if it ever felt this way, and he couldn’t control himself. He knew he was close already, his cock was now fucking your pussy with more rhythm and determination to make you cum.

Jungkook’s back flex with each buck of his hips and he trapped you below him leaving you with nothing but pleasure and making you take every second of it. Your jaw fell slack, fucked into nothing but a moaning mess and you clawed at his back, “I’m close.”

Those were the right words to egg him on. He was close to cumming too, and he fucked you like he’ll never get a chance again. He fucked you good and hard like you never had before and your pussy walls tightened around him with anticipation. The feeling had built up from earlier and now there was no holding back anymore. You physically couldn’t stop the crash of your orgasm that wrecked your entire body. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your throat went dry and your thighs shook dramatically around him.

The intensity of your arousal knocked his into action when he felt your slick coat his covered cock in your cum and he fell apart. His body crushed yours under its weight as he pushed into the hilt and held it there, cumming into the comment with a long, drawn out groan in your ear, “Fuck.”

It felt like forever before the feeling of being high left your body and when he rolled off of you to lay beside you instead, you took your first real and steady breath of the night. He laid on his back, pulling you into him and tried to catch his breath, “You felt so good.”

“You’re so hot,” you admitted to his face, looking up at him and how he began to absentmindedly play with his brow piercing as he looked down at you.

The one round had tired him out if he were being honest, maybe it was how you tightened around him heavenly so it simply because it was you he was sleeping with of all people, but he was tired.

He hadn’t expected to feel your hand trace down his lean stomach toward his cock that was still semi-hard and covered in his own cum from when he pulled the condom off.

“We’re not done, are we?” You asked teasingly, pressing a light kiss against his abs, hand finding his dick and circling around it.

Jungkook couldn’t bite back the groan that escaped his lips when you began to jerk him back to hardness, “Not even close, baby.”

5AM

“You’re leaving?” You asked in a tired tone as you watched him sit up from the bed. It’s been hours since you slept with him and you both must have fallen asleep when you were snuggling and now you’ve woken up to him wrestling his jeans back on.

“That depends, do you want me to stay?” He asked and he wanted you to say yes. When you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to also and it was so peaceful. His usual soreness after a fight hadn’t kicked in yet and he was able to relax. The only reason he woke up at all was because of his annoying phone that lit up from inside the pocket of his jeans.

It was his friend asking for a place to crash. He was going to go home and let Hobi in but instead you woke up with a pout asking if he was leaving. You shrugged, “I mean… I get it if you want to leave, I was just asking.”

Your response kind of hurt him and made him wonder if that’s what you wanted. He looked back at you and the way you laid on your side to look at him. The street lamp hit your window directly and rows of orange light filtered through your blinds and on the edge of your bed. He didn’t actually want to leave but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Some people don’t like the morning after and he was going to save himself from getting hurt by someone who might not be too interested too soon.

“I don’t want to,” Jungkook admitted with acknowledgement to the way you looked at the thought of him leaving. It didn’t take more convincing for him to be pulling the covers over him once more so he could lay beside you.

As the days passed, Jungkook stayed on your mind. It didn’t help that your friends felt the need to know everything that happened over the weekend including how you didn’t see their texts. You swore up and down that you hadn’t received anything from them but the next day after Jungkook finally left your place, you called Jimin who scolded you over the phone.

Even now he’s intent on reminding you how you ditched them for some guy. Sieun was more lenient on the matter, “There’s nothing like hooking up with a hot stranger on a Saturday night. I didn’t think Y/n had it in her but from what I remember, her savior was hot.”

The three of you huddled inside a study room that you booked in the library a few days ago. There was supposed to be actual studying going on but instead the three of you were more interested in discussing the events from the weekend. Apparently, Sieun had spotted someone she knew and that’s why she ditched you two so fast. It took Jimin a while to find her but once he did, he appreciated the lack of people on the second floor and deemed it safer and probably more enjoyable than where he had left you. He sent you texts that you never read and with bad connection, his calls wouldn’t go through.

It wasn’t until the morning after that you told them what you had been up to and with who. Sieun remembered Jungkook from what happened with Jisoo and Rowoon and even she could admit he was attractive—making sure to tell you she would have happily jumped his bones too. Usually you’re not as vocal about who you choose to spend a night with but considering the three of you separated on Saturday, it felt like you owed them that much.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Jimin asked as he mindlessly jotted down notes from a seminar he missed this morning.

“We're supposed to meet up later for dinner,”you admitted, scrolling aimlessly through your online textbook to find the short questionnaire.

“Ooh, you’re already going for round two? Look at you, you little slut. First you sleep with a stranger and now you plan on hitting him up for more. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Sieun joked obnoxiously.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to say, “It’s just a quick meal… nothing serious.”

Jimin pursed his lips, “Hm, just be careful alright. When’s the last time you dated someone?”

“Oh my god, it’s really not like that, nobody is talking about dating anyone. We’re just going to hang out, that’s it. We don’t even know each other that well,” you told him but he only shared a look with Sieun.

“Was he at least good in bed?” She asked and Jimin covered his ears instantly. Your studying had been long forgotten as you talk about quite literally anything else going on in your life and in a weird way, it felt good.

Usually, you’re locked up in a room studying for the next big exam but lately you’ve been trying to loosen up. You weren’t super big into going out but ever since you ran into Jungkook for the first time it made you wonder why you weren't out having fun like everyone else. You forced yourself out this past weekend and you had the luck to run into Jungkook again, so why shouldn’t you let yourself have fun with someone new? That’s what this was all about, why you’re going out with Jungkook.

Your day went by in a blur probably due to nerves as you anxiously waited for Jungkook. Your last lecture finished late and the sun had already begun to set when you left the auditorium with Jimin who waited outside for you.

“So he’s picking you up?” Jimin asked, taking your backpack off your shoulders so he could carry it. The walk was short to the gate entrance but he did it out of habit and you never argued against it. Jimin has been a good friend to you for some time now and he’s been this way with you. When he gets curious about who you’re potentially seeing, you never think too much about it and always answer honestly.

“Yeah, but I’ll text you later about the project,” You told him, staring out to the entrance trying to see if he was here yet. In an attempt to put yourself out there more, you met Jungkook and it’s been the most exciting thing to happen in a while.

It’s not that you weren’t hit on before or had past ‘relationships’ but none made you feel as giddy as Jungkook does. Usually you’re on your own studying or going to your part time job so making time for someone else wasn’t on your radar until Jungkook. How strange it is that you could quickly change and act interested in someone else. Jimin felt pushed aside as your friend but he didn’t want to think about it. He’s seen you ignore guys so often that it’s taken him by complete surprise to see you show interest in someone who wasn’t him and he’s still not sure how he should feel.

“He’s here,” you turned to Jimin, taking your backpack off his shoulders and wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace. Jimin didn’t hesitate to hug you back, quickly looking up to find the guy you’ve been talking about. His hold on you didn’t ease as he locked eyes with the guy with shock.

Jungkook was nothing like the kind of guys Jimin pictured you with. He was rugged, rough around the edges and in all honesty, intimidating. How else was he supposed to take Jungkook’s appearance as? He stood against a black Yamaha with his arms crossed in front of his chest staring Jimin down.

He wore a black compression shirt with his tattooed arms on display, black jeans, and shoes. The only color on him was the flash of silver from the shining chain around his neck, his piercings, and the silver Rolex on his wrist. He matched the motorcycle behind him with its silver, chrome rims and a clean engine.

Jimin thought about himself and the other guys you hang around. He tends to wear softer colors and he’s heard too many times how approachable he looks. Jin, who you’ve been close to since you started Uni, was your senior and he always evoked a welcoming smile on his face. He was buff from working out but not scary. Not even the last guy he remembers you talking to wore this much black or drove a motorcycle. What was this about?

“Be safe,” Jimin mumbled as he finally let you go and broke his gaze away from the guy.

“I will,” You waved goodbye and looked at Jungkook, unable to stop the bite on your lip as you looked at him.

Jungkook waited until your friend walked away for his glare to soften, only able to think about the way he hugged you tightly and watched him as he did it. You didn’t fight off his touch either, you enabled it and he wished you wouldn’t. You shouldn’t need to be so affectionate with anyone else now he’s here, especially not another man. He tried to smile when you approached him but all he could think about was where the guy’s hands had been.

They touched your waist, sliding under your cropped knitted sweater just slightly and touching your bare skin. When he let go, his hand had gone down to your hip, one final attempt to keep his hand on you and that meant he knew how soft the denim of your jeans was.

Why did he get to touch you first?

A smile spread across his lips as he eased the lines of irritation off his face the closer you got. Pushing off his bike, he uncrossed his arms and opened them wide, waiting for you to come to him, “Come here, Angel.”

You nearly jumped in his arms, and it made it easy for Jungkook to lift you off the ground in a tight embrace, taking in the soft and familiar smell of your perfume. Jungkook didn’t shy away from showing affection as he left soft kisses against your neck while you tried to keep yourself from losing your footing and with a small laugh, you pushed him back, “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” Jungkook said as he released you, only keeping your hand in his, leading you toward his bike, “I’ve missed you.”

“Liar,” you teased, eyeing the motorcycle before you, “This is yours?”

His muscles tensed when you said he was lying but he tried to let it go and answer your question, “Yeah, why? Are you scared?”

“No,” you shook your head looking over at him, “I’m excited.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and he lifted up a black helmet with light pink detail around the framing, “Good, because you’ll be riding it more often. This is yours.”

“What?” You touched the helmet as he helped you put it on, “The helmet?”

He nodded with a bite of his lip, “Can’t have you riding around without proper safety. I picked it up this morning, it’s custom.”

You didn’t stop to think about what he said, too excited to get on your first motorcycle. Jungkook had your helmet ordered a few days ago with some added detail he thought you might like. In all honesty, when he left your place the next morning, he submitted the order and began to think of what else you might like. He’s surprised you weren’t nervous and he had thought the helmet would ease you into the idea of letting him drive you around but you didn’t even hesitate to get on. It was cute how excited you seemed and it did things to him.

“Hold me around here,” He said, adjusting your legs to straddle him as moving your arms around his waist, “How does it feel?”

As he waited for you to answer, he felt your hand press against his abdomen, sliding over the ridges of muscle he’s gained in training and toward his taut stomach, fingertips brushing against the belt around his waist. He looked down at your ringed hand catching a feel of him with a crooked smile that you couldn’t see under the helmet. Your head rested against the back as you brought your hands back to where he had them first and said, “Feels fine.”

Tease.

You’re a fucking tease.

Here you are, straddling his bike, feeling him up but hugging another guy. He wants to enjoy it but Jimin is on the back of his mind and it was annoying the shit out of him. He just wanted to be with the person he has feelings for without thinking of anyone else. He has to remind himself you’ve only just started seeing each other, there’s still some things to learn for the both of you.

For him, it was to slow down. He couldn’t jump into it and expect you to give him the same energy, this is why he was hesitant to approach you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take things slow.

Your first ride on a motorbike had been exhilarating. When you first found Jungkook standing beside it, your heart raced with worry but then you remembered what you told yourself. You were going to try new things and you liked it. Jungkook knew what he was doing and he made you feel safe when he would run a soothing hand along your thigh at a stoplight.

He was a gentleman too. He took your helmet off you when you got to the restaurant and held the door open for you. He pulled your chair out, let you order first and kept his eyes on you and only you. You’ve never met a guy who acts the way he does and it’s a shame.

“Tell me about yourself,” you asked after it felt like ages of him listening to you rant about one of your professors. Jungkook had such a look of patience as he listened but you were tired of talking, and scared you were secretly boring him. You needed to know something about him.

Your food arrived at the table and Jungkook unwrapped your silverware for you, cleared the table and made sure you were taken care of first before saying anything. When he finally did decide to speak, it started with a clear throat, “What do you want to know?”

“Are you in school?” You asked, remembering the night in bed when you figured out your ages through late night cuddles and superficial conversation. You could barely remember what i you talked about because your mind was so clouded and there was still so much to know about him aside from his name and age.

“No, I never went to college,” Jungkook admitted, shifting his gaze toward the other end of the restaurant, “I own a gym.”

“Really?” You asked with surprise, trailing your eyes down to his shoulder muscles, “But you’re so young.”

Underneath the table, Jungkook’s leg had stretched out toward you, foot hitting yours teasingly as he went on, “Yeah, I worked a lot and saved up enough to put a deposit down on a studio. The equipment is old and it’s usually used for kickboxing so there needs to be open space without bulky new machines in the way. I make do with what I got. What are you studying again?”

“Uh uh,” you waved a finger at him, “I’ve been going on and on about myself already, I want to hear more about you.”

“But I could listen to you all day, Angel,” Jungkook said with a smooth tone. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Nice try but keep going.”

He stayed silent for a moment as you waited for him to keep going, looking down at your plate. A small smile spread across his lips as he said, “There’s not much to know, I’m a boring guy. I've got two loving parents, an older brother I’m close to, and a son named Bam, he’s a Doberman. That’s it.”

”Do they live around here?” You asked, trying to get him to open up more. Jungkook just shook his head no and said, “They live in Busan. What about you? Are you close with your family?”

”Um, not really, they think I’m always too busy so they stopped checking on how I was doing,” You told him honestly, “But they pay for my schooling so I guess that’s a plus.”

The two of you stayed and talked long after the plates were cleared from your table and you couldn’t remember the last time you had a good conversation with someone. Jungkook was a lot softer than his appearance let off. He was sweet and caring and he seemed to listen to every word you said intently your first impression of him as someone tough and intimidating was slowly beginning to dissipate. Jungkook only allowed himself to come off this way but he was into you. He wanted you to know he can be a good guy and so far he thinks he’s done a good job. You’ve been all smiles this entire time and he’s loved every second of it.

If he could, he would stay here all night just listening to you go on and on about anything that interested you. You had his full attention, nearly making him miss the person behind you. He recognized him right away and his lips curled in a knowing smirk when the guy spotted him.

“Looks like they forgot to take out the trash,” the guy mumbled under his breath as he passed by the table you occupied with Jungkook. You couldn’t help but turn at those words, wondering who said that and locked eyes with a tall, good looking guy. Your brows furrowed with confusion, unable to tell if he was talking about you and Jungkook but as you looked up at Jungkook, he was watching the guy closely.

“Do you know him?” You asked under your breath as Jungkook motioned for the waiter to bring the check now. He shook his head, “No.”

”Good for nothing, I’m telling you, and he doesn’t fight fair,” the guy spoke from a table not too far from where you two were, ‘I bet the next time, I’ll take him and he won't be running his mouth like he did last time.”

Jungkook couldn’t help back the scoff that left his lips and he tried to hide his annoyance from showing on his face. All he wanted was to have a good night with you and now someone from his past has decided to unexpectedly rui it. It wasn’t even anyone who mattered, just some guy he fought against a couuple years ago. The guy is still bitter that his trash talking left him with a broken nose and dislocated shoulder. It’s obvious he hasn’t learned his lesson and now that he’s seeing Jungkook again, he’s reminded all over again of the physical pain he put them through and thins this time would be different.

If jungkook really wants to, he would show the guy that time hasn’t changed anything and that he could easily still wring his neck if he chose to. The guy should feel lucky that Jungkook is here with you and doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene.

“Ready to go, angel? It’s getting a little crowded here,” Jungkook’s tone was strained as he tried to sound unaffected by the guy’s remarks but in reality, he was pissed. It was one thing for the guy to run his mouth but to do it when Jungkook is clearly trying to enjoy himself with someone?

“Sure,” your energy was down as you looked back to the guy and the people he was with. They were staring over at you with dark gazes that send a shiver down your back.

“One chance and I’ll knock his fucking teeth in,” the guy said, “Then I’ll take his bitch while I’m at it.”

The last comment seemed to have Jungkook frozen in place. You watched him turn back to the guy with a tense jaw and dead eyes as if in warning and it left you feeling worried and confused. It’s obvious he does know this guy or else why would he be saying those things just to get a reaction out of him? What were you supposed to do in this situation?

“Kook?” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself and for a second you thought it had gone unheard until he turned to you with a gentle smile. Jungkook completely switched out of his hardened expression as he walked to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and said, “Let’s go.”

”You okay?” You asked as the two of you made it out of the restaurant in one piece. Jungkook’s motorcycle sat perfectly in the parking lot, waiting for you two to get on it and Jungkook pressed you against it.

Your arms went around his neck without question as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss against your lips, “Of course.”

He pulled away shortly, meeting your gaze, “Let’s get you home.”

In the back of your mind you knew something was off about the entire thing that happened at the restaurant but you weren’t sure how to bring it up—if you even could. The guy was talking about him, and you, and what he said raised questions that you wanted answers to but Jungkook wasn't going to give them to you, especially not tonight. His entire demeanor changed even if he tried to pretend like it didn’t but you saw right through his tense face and deep, jagged breaths. It was messing with his head but you couldn’t ask him about other things so soon. For all you know, that guy did Jungkook dirty and he had no desire to open up old wounds.

Plus, you’ve only known him for a short time so why bring it up? Over time if it mattered, he’ll tell you, you think.

Jungkook dropped you off at your apartment with a kiss goodbye and a promise to call. You didn’t even have time to stall and see if he would come up to stay the night before he was speeding off with a roar of his engine. You went upstairs to unwind, wondering what had bothered Jungkook so much about the guy. He seemed to have good restraint or else he would have acted out at the restaurant but he also could’ve been acting calmer because you were there. What would have happened if the guy caught him alone?

It took him hours to get over it, and even then, he wasn’t actually. If anything he was just pleased to know he could do something about it without putting you in the middle and that’s why when he pulled up to the address he scribbled, he couldn’t help but grin with excitement.

“You found it?” Yoongi asked through his car’s Bluetooth. He switched out his bike earlier to look less suspicious and began his search for that lowlife.

“Yeah, he just got home,” Jungkook muttered quietly as he watched the shittalker, Minho, get out of his red Nissan. He left his garage open and gave Jungkook a good view of the garage door opening and closing behind him as he entered the house alone.

“You should’ve heard what he said about Y/n, hyung,” Jungkook said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. He called you a bitch just to see if it’ll rule him up and if there’s one thing he hates, is disrespect someone he’s with. He was supposed to ask you to be his girlfriend tonight, officially, yet here he was pulling his black hood over his beanie clad head and sliding on a black face mask.

Yoongi released a sigh, once again being reminded of you. Jungkook had been going on and on about you like a lovesick puppy for some time now and Yoongi was just waiting to see when he would act up. In truth, Jungkook’s never been in a real relationship, only short flings but he never fully gave anytime the time of day. He was always distracted and uncaring so when he started talking about you and how he wanted to be with you, it was hard for Yoongi or the others to believe it.

Now here’s Jungkook more bothered by the fact Minho referred to you as a bitch than all the trash talking he had been doing. He was about to do something reckless and Yoongi couldn’t help but support it, knowing how much his friend needed to get out of his system before something worse could happen?

What could be worse than Jungkook tracing the guy’s footsteps into his house with a brick in hand?

Who knows.

“One more minute,” his voice was low and gentle, as he whispered against your neck. His cold hand traced along your exposed waist and pulled you closer to his embrace.

“Jungkook,” you said with a sigh, reluctant to leave your side of his bed, “I’ve got a presentation at nine that I have to prepare for.”

After dinner with him, you had been home trying to unwind and call up your friend to work on the project together. You stayed up past midnight trying to finish it and when you received a call from Jungkook asking to be let up, you had debated saying no. Whatever happened at the restaurant had raised some questions but in the end, his smooth talking got him in your bed for the rest of the night.

Your words held little sway against the relaxation of your body against his and feeling the light warmth of his kisses lingering on your skin. His lips trailed down your collarbone, bunching the small top you wore to bed and to your exposed navel. The touches there wouldn’t last long before he was back to your shoulder, soft kisses decorating your skin. It felt so intimate even if it was so harmless. You turned your head to face him better and he took it as a chance to kiss the corner of your mouth gently, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

He wasn’t even asking for sex, he just didn’t want to leave your bed yet knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you all day. He locked his fingers around yours as you shook your head no, “I’m meeting my partner early so we could run through lines one more time.”

“Do I know them?” Jungkook asked, eyes looking down at yours as you laid beside him. Despite still sounding calm and relaxed, there was something off about his tone. You thought about his question for a second, debating if you should tell him or not.

“Yeah, Jimin, he was with me when you picked me up earlier,” you said as he finally loosened his hold on you enough for you to get up. He watched you leave the bed in nothing but your top and a lacy pair of underwear, making your way to your closet as he made himself comfortable on your bed.

He watched in awe as you came back out and dropped the clothes down on the foot of the bed while beginning to undress what little you wore. You carried on your usual morning routine and turned the TV on to the first thing that played for some background noise.

“Last night around 11:00pm, a neighbor heard strange noises coming from a residential area in __ district.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook called your name as he stared at the remote you tossed onto your vanity. You were slipping on a skirt you deemed appropriate for your presentation and looked at him, attempting to zip up the back on your own.

“Help me?” You asked before he could say anything else and he sat up to just that, listening to the news playing quietly.

“It wasn’t until this morning that the brave neighbor knocked on the door of Kim Minho’s place early at 6:00am, checking to see what the noise was.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Would you um, w-well, I want you to— go out with me? Like, maybe start dating, officially.”

“Officially?” You turned to him with a playful grin, shoving him back on the bed softly, “As in?”

“The 24 year old was found unconscious lying in a pile of what appears to be his own blood with blunt force wounds on multiple parts of his body.”

You made an attempt to turn to the television, finally feeling it pique your interest but Jungkook pulled you onto him with one swift tug of your skirt and said, “Girlfriend, I want you to be mine.”

“Kim has been transported to the local hospital where they attempt to bring him back to a stable condition. That is all the news we have as of now but we’ll get back to you as soon as more becomes available.”

“Okay,” you smiled, straddling his lap now in nothing but your skirt and bra, “But I should finish getting dressed.”

Your now boyfriend had an evident pout on his face as you quickly kissed him on the lips before pulling yourself off him. He watched you finish getting ready, making himself comfortable on your bed before saying, “Change the channel or something.”

The room he locked himself into was filled with gloom. There were no family pictures on the wall or any sign of a happy childhood like yours. Instead there were empty picture frames nearly identical to the ones that adorned your apartment that he soon planned to fill with pictures of the two of you together. So far he’s only got one picture and it’s of you laying in bed together.

Your head was resting on his bare chest as he kissed your hair and took the selfie. You looked so cute to him and every time he looked at it, it would make something bubble in his chest. There’s no way for him to truly explain the depths of his feelings for you and where they sprouted from and they only seemed to grow stronger the more he thought about you.

You’re just everything he’s ever imagined and he’s not being dramatic at all. Whenever he thought about the perfect person for him he always imagined someone like you. You were the craving for his sweet tooth. If he were coffee, you’d be the sweetener.

His world has been so black and blue and finally explosions of other colors were clouding his life. No longer was he just thinking in the negative, he was thinking about the positive and how that was you. He’s decided he’ll become a better man for you, someone who truly deserves you even if he already thinks nobody else does but him.

Life has been so unfair to him and you have been the only upside to it so how could he not want to keep you for himself? You understand him, or at least the version of him he’s told you and he’s sure that over time you’ll understand the real him.

Yes, he’s been hiding things but it’s been for the best. He can’t just introduce his full self to you and expect you to be alright with everything he’s done. He has to ease you into his faults and hope that you’ll love him for him.

The first night when you asked him how often he goes to that shitty bar, he was passive. He answered your question without telling the full truth and he thinks that lately that’s all he’s been doing. When you asked him about his family… he was truthful.

His parents were loving, and he does have an older brother. Were they loving to him necessarily? He would have to say no, but you didn’t ask him for clarification. You simply asked about his family and he answered. Of course he left out the part where he was kicked out when he was 15 for getting into too many school fights. In his defense, thinking about that still hurts him.

It was obvious he’s always been a troubled kid but for his parents to just turn him away the second it gets too hard? They were fine with all those times he would steal the car or smoke behind the school building. What difference did it make when he put his hands on someone? Maybe they were upset he wasn’t more like his brother, his perfect brother.

Student council president.

Top of his class.

Accepted into the best schools.

Caring.

Jungkook could be caring. He’s proven it with you. He stepped in when you needed help, he offered you company when you were ditched by your so-called friends, he listened to every word you said with such devotion.

In the back of his mind he imagined his family, and how they would feel to know he’s finally found someone who cares about him. And yes, he’s aware his hyungs care about him but even then it feels superficial at times. Hoseok was partially at fault he got ran out of home. He was the one always helping Jungkook train and start problems when he felt like it.

But Hoseok was also the one to take him in. He’s the one to put clothes on his back and all Jungkook had to do was release all the pent up anger from over the years and win a fight for him. That’s it.

And he can’t act like it’s a burden. It’s gotten him money, and his gym studio [which wasn’t a lie], it’s gotten him opportunities he couldn’t imagine before. Plus, he’s an angry guy and it helps get it out of his system. Now all he can be is loving and sweet to the person that matters to him, you.

You were just so perfect to him and he can’t explain why.

There was a chance he wouldn’t get to see you today and it was eating at him. When he got home from some of his boxing lessons, the first thing he had done was call you to see what you were up to. You couldn’t even answer the phone because you were studying and only promised to call him when you were done. It’s been an hour now and he’s finding it hard to believe you’re still at the campus library.

As if the thought of you had magically made you reach out to him, his phone rang and he answered so quickly, “Hey.”

“Hey,” your voice sounded airy like you were exhausted, “I just got done and I’m about to leave now.”

“Really?” Jungkook shot out of bed, looking over at his dog, who lifted their head up with piqued interest, “Should I come over? Have you had dinner? I could pick something up on the way.”

“My place is a mess right now,” you admitted as you walked to the exit, “How about I come to your place this time? I’ve never been there and I want to see how my boyfriend lives.”

Jungkook looked around at his bedroom, “You want to come to mine?”

“Sure, why not, I’ll get to meet Bam and maybe get more of that homecoming of yours,” you were smiling, your playful tone making his heart flutter, “I mean it’s only fair.”

“I—okay,” Jungkook stood up, searching around for where to start, “But it’s nothing special. Are you going to spend the night?”

“I can, I just need to stop home and pack some things,” You told him, taking a right to the closest train station.

With the promise of you finally seeing his place, Jungkook grew frantic. It’s not like he lived in a dump, he was decently well off but… he doesn’t pay attention to it at all. He’s overly clean but it’s so spotless it doesn’t even look lived in. Your place was filled with things that reminded him of you. Books, vinyls, posters, even your choice in culinary set seemed exactly like you.

His place looked like a blank slate. All he had was the punching bag in the corner of his living room, the matching motorcycle helmets, and the now framed picture of you on his bedside.

When you were dropped off in front of the duplex, you weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. The place was big with a garage below the main floor you could only assume had his motorcycle and car parked. It was clean and well kept so when he answered the door, you hadn't expected anything less. Of course you didn’t expect it to be so bare either.

“Am I getting a tour?” You asked looking around the living room to a plain black couch, flat screen tv, dog bed, and punching bag. On the entrance table were your helmets but aside from that it felt pretty gloomy. Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Sure, uh, well you’ve seen the living room…”

He led you down an empty hall toward the master bedroom and stood at the doorway as you looked around. His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was worrying away at it the longer you looked around.

“Wait,” You walked off, sitting on the edge of his bed as you looked down at the frame, “This is cute. You need to get a look at me before falling asleep?”

“Obviously,” Jungkook tried to say with a relaxed chuckle as he joined you on the bed, “When I can’t get the real thing.”

“Well it’s nice to see I’ve made it as one of the very few essentials in your home design,” You joked, pulling him closer to the collar of his shirt, “It’s cute.”

“You're one of the few people who have ever said that to me,” Jungkook said with a chuckle, leaning into your touch and brushing his lips against yours.

“Good, let’s keep it that way,” you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly, “It sounds so cringy to say, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said. He took you to your classes before leaving to the gym earlier but it felt so long ago. He really did miss you and to hear you say the same things to him, it did things.

“So, I actually wanted to talk to you,” you mumbled between kisses, sitting up in his bed, “I’m going out with Sieun this weekend, but I just wanted to let you know.”

You waited to see how he’d respond, if he would act upset or annoyed. Most guys tend to get jealous and possessive but you were hoping he was different. You weren’t doing anything behind his back so it’s better to know where you stand now. If he asks to go out with his friends, you wouldn’t get upset, you’re only hoping he’ll feel the same.

“Sieun?” He questioned, looking away from you for a moment. The same bitch who chooses a guy over you? The one who seems boy crazy? “It’ll be fun, and just call me if you need anything.”

His response caught you by surprise but you tried not to dwell on it, a smile spreading on your lips as you hugged him, “Thank god, I thought you were going to be one of those guys that throws a fit whenever their girlfriend goes out without them. Can we take Bam for a walk now?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, simply smiled a tight smile and hugged you back.

He had been dreading the weekend. His friends were all on his line asking him to go out and get drunk with them but he was too nervous. He was too scared thinking about you and what you were doing to try and relax. Yoongi had to try and physically drag Jungkook out of his apartment and even that hadn’t been enough for him to ease up.

He loved going out with the guys, it usually entailed drinking, money, and some random girl to occupy his interest. Now all he could think about is where you were and what you were doing.

“Kook, come on you’re better than this,” Namjoon said as he tried to hand Jungkook back his darts, “What’s on your mind?”

“Y/n is out drinking with a friend of hers,” Jungkook said, checking his phone for any notification, “And she hasn’t called or texted me since she left.”

“Isn’t that good?” Hoseok asked with a chuckle, “She’s off doing her own thing and you’re doing your own. I’d kill to be with someone who wasn’t blowing up my phone anytime I’m out.”

“Seriously, I get about five texts from Jia everytime I’m out with you guys,” Yoongi said as he took a drink of his beer, “But I gotta say, I’m surprised you let her off her leash. I feel like lately, you’re latched to her side.”

Jungkook looked up from his phone with hardened eyes as he looked at his friend. He’s not sure what Yoongi meant by that but he didn’t like what he was possibly referring to you as.

“Whoa, careful there. Jungkook’s got actual feelings for Y/n, you can’t go calling her a bitch or anything,” Hoseok said jokingly. The two never held much respect for anyone but themselves but it never bothered Jungkook this much.

“Now I didn’t say that,” Yoongi responded with a laugh.

Namjoon watched as Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he was quick to try and intervene, “So how long has she been out? I feel like we just barely got you out of your house.”

“A couple hours now,” Jungkook said, choosing to ignore his other two friends, “She left long before I did.”

“Who knows, maybe she’ll be calling you up soon,” Namjoon said as he tapped his beer bottle against Jungkook’s, “Until then just try and let loose.”

Just as the sigh in agreement left Jungkook’s lips, his phone began to ring.

When you called him, telling him how much you wanted to see him, you hadn’t expected him to answer so quickly. All it took was for you to tell him the address of the club you were at before he was showing up in search for you. It was cute how quick he was to see you.

“You okay?” Was the first thing Jungkook asked when he found you among the mix of people. His arms circled your waist and you threw yours around his neck in greeting, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and nearly growing weak in the knees. He held you up with a strong arm as he looked around to who you were with.

“Yeah, I’m great, do you want a drink?” You asked, already trying to lead him to the bar but he shook his head no.

“I’m not drinking,” he said. He had barely drank half of one beer when you called and now that he’s seeing you, he’s decided it’s better he stays sober. You were very obviously intoxicated but not to the point where you were making a mess of yourself. He could just tell from the way your eyes glossed over and your slurred words. You called him to take care of you.

“Y/n,” Sieun called to you as she held up another shot, “One more.”

He watched you take it from her hands and down it back, scrunching your face in disgust as the warmth traveled down your throat. You chased it down with soda to wash away the taste and he held you upright. He didn’t want to sound pushy but he had to ask, “How much have you had already?”

“Not too much,” you said, leaning against him, “Five, maybe six drinks, Sieun?”

“And two shots,” Sieun said with a laugh as she looked up to Jungkook with curiosity in her gaze, “But come on Y/n, isn’t it time to finally introduce me to your new guy?”

You smiled, pulling Jungkook closer, “Right. Jungkook this is my best friend, Sieun. You might remember her from that first place we met and… Sieun, this is my boyfriend. Isn’t he so cute?”

“The cutest,” Sieun said looking at him, “You said I could sleep over right?”

You nodded your head, sniffling slightly as you blinked away your blurred vision. Jungkook held you tighter as he turned to look at you, “Are you ready to go?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, feeling the sense of nausea begin to set in.

“We’ve been drinking for a while, she might have had one too many at this point,” Sieun said to him but he wasn’t listening to her. Instead he was reading your face to see how you felt, “You want to go home baby?”

You gave a weak nod and it was all it took for Jungkook to step up. He led you out with your friend close on his trail and helped you into the front seat. He buckled you in and kept your head from rolling to the side while your friend got in the backseat.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Sieun said as Jungkook drove off, “You seem like a good guy.”

Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgment, silently driving to your place and taking your hand in his. Now that you weren’t standing and actively moving, your energy seemed to have died down. You looked tired now and he wondered if you were starting to get a headache.

“Was it just you two all night or did someone else join you?” Jungkook decided to ask. You were half asleep and he wanted to ask you instead but he was too impatient to wait. Plus, he didn’t want you thinking he was worried.

“Just us two, you should’ve joined us,” Sieun said from the backseat, “It would’ve probably been more fun.”

No it wouldn’t have. All Jungkook would be able to think about is how annoying he thought she was and it would be evident on his face.

“Next time,” Jungkook lied as he pulled up to your building. He turned the car off and walked to your side, opening your door and helping you up. When you raised your arms to him, he couldn’t help but lift you all the way to your apartment. He took your keys and unlocked your door, leaving it open for your friend to follow as he led you to your room.

“Kooky,” you whined, falling onto the bed and lifting your leg. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to help you out of your heels and get you into something else to sleep in.

He kind of liked that he was getting the chance to take care of you.

“Can you get me some water?” You asked, making yourself comfortable in your bed.

“Of course, Angel, I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said, softly caressing the side of your face before making his way out of the room. In all honesty, he had nearly forgotten Sieun was over until he was in the kitchen. She seemed to know where the extra blankets and pillows were and made her bed on the couch. She was in a skimpy dress and too tall of heels which she was struggling to get out of and looking at Jungkook, “Once again, thanks for picking us up.”

“Well I wasn’t just going to let Y/n find another way home,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as he opened your cabinet for a glass. He had already assumed he’d be picking you up if Sieun ditched you.

“You know, you’re a lot cuter than I remember,” she said with a laugh as she kicked her heels off. She got up from her spot and made her way to the kitchen as Jungkook filled your glass, “It’s a shame, Y/n found you first.”

Jungkook couldn’t stop the curl of his lips in disgust as he processed what she was saying. He looked over at her, “Meaning?”

“I just mean… you’re not usually Y/n’s type,” Sieun tried to say, her drunken speech more prominent, “I saw you that first night too.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Was that before or after you laughed when those guys called her a bitch?”

“They were joking, and I told them off after,” Sieun said, invading his space to grab a cup for herself, “But it was kind of hot how quick you were to jump in.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at her in disbelief. He couldn’t believe she was trying to hit on him while you were in the other room. He was finding her more and more disgusting.

“You’re kind of a slut, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked with a slight chuckle, seeing her taken back expression.

“Excuse me?” She asked, her cocky smile gone as he insulted her suddenly.

“You. You’re a slut, right? I mean that’s what I’ve picked up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, “Why else would you be trying to hit on your friend’s boyfriend in her house?”

“I wasn’t h-hi—“

“You weren’t?” Jungkook asked, “So should I just get Y/n out here so she could listen to you too?”

Sieun had nothing to say at this point. She had in fact been hitting on him, or at least trying to see how far her teasing could go before he stopped it but she didn’t expect to be called out like this. Jungkook didn’t seem to care that she stopped and had begun to think about what was going on as he continued, “Now, if you ask me, I can’t tell you why she would want to be friends with a trashy whore like you but I guess that’s not for me to figure out. All I can really tell you is to stay out of my fucking way and don’t bother talking to me again.”

With that, he left her alone in the kitchen trying to process what had just happened.

“I think I drank too much,” you whined tiredly when your boyfriend made his way back into your bedroom. An amused smile pulled at his lips as he handed you the glass of water and sat on your side of the bed, “I’m never drinking again.”

“Okay,” he whispered, only half-believing you and smoothing his hand down your side when you groaned about a headache, “Did you at least have fun?”

Jungkook just seemed to be too good to be true. You had never met, much less been with, a guy who seemed to have everything together the way he did and it was still hard for you to understand it. Not to mention the fact that he treated you so well and always has since you first met, it’s just hard to believe. What was his deal?

Maybe you were being paranoid and thinking that something bad was bound to happen soon but that had to be the case. Never once has anything ever worked out for you as well as your relationship with Jungkook has and you can’t let it go. You’ve been with him for weeks and he hasn’t made a single slip up.

He always texts back fast, and calls you when he’s free. He’s always putting effort to see you and just takes care of you over all. He does a bunch of little things that make your heart flutter like bringing home whatever sweet you told him was your favorite, or cooking you something for dinner when you’re not in the mood to do it yourself. He lets you pick the movie or song and rarely makes you pay unless you beg him to and he’s always showing how much of his attention he has.

He's too perfect, sure there’s still some things you don’t know about him but he’ll tell you over time, hopefully.

“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” Jimin asked over lunch on Friday. The cafeteria was full with college students and the two of you occupied a small table close to a window.

“I have to work but if I can get off early then I might,” You admitted, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram. You looked up at the third chair beside you and asked, “Where’s Sieun? I feel like she’s been M.I.A for the last couple of days.”

“I don’t know, she probably forgot she had a project due and is doing some last minute work on it,” Jimin said with a shrug, noting her absence, “Or she’s tired of seeing you all lovey dovey when she can’t keep a guy around.”

“Don’t start with your little remarks, Chimmy,” you waved a playful finger at him, “Sieun is happy doing what she wants.”

“Yeah but that’s because it’s her only choice. Do you think if someone showed actual interest, she wouldn’t want to settle down?” Jimin asked, making you look at him skeptically. You didn’t want to talk about Sieun behind her back but he made you think.

“I don’t know, it’s not in her character, I don’t even know what kind of guy she likes,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed to say. Assholes.

She usually likes the bad guys.

“Do you think she’ll go later?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Probably, Jin’s gonna be there and some other guys she’ll want to flirt with so I don’t see why she’d miss it,” Jimin said, watching you begin to pack up your things as you finished eating. He followed suit and the two of you carried your trays to the drop-off station.

You rolled your eyes at what he said but didn’t deny any of it and looked at the time on your screen, “I’ve gotta get to my lecture but I’ll see you later?”

Jimin waved you off with a goodbye, letting you run off in one direction while he took the other and left the lunch room alone.

“Where’s Y/n?”

The scream he let out was high-pitched and squeamish, he had a hand supporting his beating heart as he looked at Sieun with widened eyes, “Don’t sneak up on people like that. She left to her next class, why? You avoiding her?”

He meant it as a joke, not caring much if the two of you talked either way. He can’t count the amount of times he has to pick sides between your arguments. He usually bounces between you until one of you says something he agrees with and waits for everything to be square for the three of you to talk again. Sieun bit her lip instead of responding and that was a clear give away that you were.

“Why?”

“I mean, I’m not avoiding Y/n, like I’m not mad at her or anything,” Sieun said as she walked with Jimin, “I just… I don’t know ever since she started dating Jungkook—“

“Oh, fuck no, I don’t want to hear it,” Jimin said with a laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I’m not! I mean I was, but I’m not. I swear,” Sieun confessed, “He creeps me out.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with piqued interest. Sieun let out a sigh as she shook her head, “I don’t know he just seems… intense.”

And cruel.

And brutally honest.

And aggressive.

Jimin couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together with confusion as he looked at her, tempted to ask her to elaborate. Before he could even think to ask her to explain, she was quick to say, “I just want to know if he’s coming tonight.”

“I don’t think so,” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks, “What’s up with you? Did something happen?”

“No,” Sieun rushed, “But I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you later?”

Jungkook had canceled his plans tonight for your sake. He had decided to tell Namjoon he wouldn’t be fighting so that the two of you can spend time together and he could possibly bring up the thought of his fights to you. He needed to think about what he could lie about still and what you should know. If you handled the idea of these ‘sanctioned events’ then maybe you’d be fine with him doing them. Maybe you’ll want to see one live and clean up his wounds after. He was trying to think of every possible outcome before bringing them up to you.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to tell him you have plans that didn’t involve him at all.

“So you’re going out?” Jungkook asked as you talked over FaceTime. You had him set up on the computer as you sat around your part time job doing nothing but talking to him.

“Not really, I’m just meeting up with some seniors for dinner. We’re all good friends, you can come if you want. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,” You told him, flipping through some magazine you pretended to browse. You weren’t paying close attention to his facial expression and the way it hardened.

“Are there gonna be guys there?” He tried to sound casual like he didn’t care either way but his nails dug into his palm the longer it took you to answer. Usually, he doesn’t ask you these sort of things. He always quietly accepts whatever you tell him so you’re a bit surprised.

“A few, but Sieun is going, and there’s a few seniors who aren’t guys going too,” You told him honestly, waiting for him to say something but he just stayed silent. It made you pay closer attention to him and his tensed jaw.

“Didn’t you go out last weekend?” Jungkook asked with a clear of his throat, “I was kind of hoping we could do something together later.”

“I mean, you can come along,” You tried to reason with him but his tone was slightly different. He seemed annoyed that you had plans and now you’re trying to avoid making him upset.

“Maybe I don’t want to tag along with your friends, maybe I just want to spend the night with you and no one else,” Jungkook said, his tone sounding harsher than earlier, “I didn’t realize I’d have to schedule time to see my girlfriend.”

A light scoff left your lips as you took in what he said, “You don’t, and we saw each other last night and this morning so why are you making it such a big deal that I want to go out with my friends? I haven’t seen some of them in months.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a moment and the longer he stayed silent, the more anxious you got. You didn’t want him upset with you but at the same time it's not like you’re constantly leaving him for someone else. He’s with you nearly every night. You talk to him at nearly every point of the day so what's the big deal that you have plans tonight? Finally, you heard him release a sigh through the phone, and muttered out, “Whatever, have fun.”

The call ended abruptly and for the first time since you started seeing him, he seemed to be upset with you.

He threw his phone down on his bed trying his hardest to not seem as bothered as he clearly was. To him it was complete bullshit and he couldn’t understand you at all. Why did it feel like he was the only one putting effort to be in a relationship? Was it his lack of true experience because he seriously thought he was doing fine. He treated you well and never got mad at you but you’re making it hard for him to keep playing nice. He doesn't give a shit about your friends and who you haven’t seen in how long. You haven’t made a single effort to meet his friends or know what he likes to do so it all just seems really fucking unfair.

Here he is trying to be a better person for you and you don’t even seem to care. Instead you would rather go be with anyone but him and. He was not just going to let that happen.

With shaky fingers, he made a call to Namjoon, and retracted his previous statement because he changed his mind. He will go and fight tonight since clearly there’s no reason for him to try and be better for you when you couldn’t care less about him.

It’s not like you could forget the fact that he was most likely upset with you now but you also weren’t going to miss out with your friends. It made you feel selfish but at the same time… you were with him this morning. He slept in your bed and maybe you should have told him you had plans that had been set for some time now but you didn’t think it mattered. He had seemed alright with every other time you were out so why was he so bothered this time around? Plus, you didn’t lie to him. You really are just going to get dinner with some old classmates of yours so is there any real reason for him to be upset by it?

“So I’ve heard you’re seeing someone, have I ever met him?” Your friend, Jin, asked over dinner. You were quiet for the most part, still thinking about Jungkook that when you finally got to the restaurant where everyone else had been waiting for you, you hadn’t made any talk with anyone. You didn’t want to be one of those people that brings your relationship problems out for everyone else to have to go through and maybe you were already overthinking it, but you didn’t want to talk about Jungkook right now.

“No, he’s uh, we met at a bar,” You said simply, stuffing your face with whatever was in front of you. Jin let his brows furrow and asked, “Is he good to you?”

”Yeah,” You said honestly. Jungkook really was good to you and its making you realize that you were probably in the wrong tonight. You should have canceled on your friend because it was so obvious that he wanted to do something together but instead you chose to be stubborn and have it your way, “He’s amazing.”

Jin looked surprised, and turned to Jimin and Sieun, “And what do you guys think about him?”

He’s always been like this, probably because he met you when you were new to the area and showed you around. He’s always had a tendency to act like an older brother with you which you were thankful for until it came to whoever you chose to date. He rarely took your word for it like you’d lie to save face of whatever asshole you’re seeing.

Jimin looked at Sieun, remembering the way she acted with you earlier. She said she’s not avoiding you but she’s made it a point to talk to everyone but you tonight and now that Jin’s looking to her, she can't ignore it any longer. He, himself, does not have much of an opinion on your boyfriend. He knows that he looked pissed off when Jimin hugged you goodbye that one time, but he might’ve dragged it on to push his button too. He doesn't have anything to say about the guy but Sieun made him question if there was something going on there.

She’s been acting strange and he wonders if Jungkook has something to do with it, but his mind goes to the wrong thing. He has to tell himself that Sieun would never do anything that could put you in a bad spot like going after your boyfriend but he cant help and wonder if that’s why she’s been stand-offish with you all day. He doesn't know Jungkook but is he the kind of guy to fool around with his girlfriend’s best friend?

Jimin looked at Sieun expectantly, waiting for her to respond and she shifted her gaze away nervously, “H-He’s cool. He seems to care a lot about Y/n.”

”So are we going out after this or what?” Someone asked from across the table, “It’s a Friday night, we should be out getting shitfaced already.”

”Let us at least finish our food, Tae, not everyone wants to drink more on an empty stomach,” Jin said with a laugh as he pushed your full plate close to you, “Right, Y/n?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I might call it a night when we get done here,” You said, checking your phone to see if you had any missed call or text from your boyfriend.

“Y/n, you can’t,” Another senior classmate, Yuna, said as she called for you, “I haven’t seen you in so long and Jinnie has been hogging up all your attention. Just one drink, yeah?”

“Her boyfriend wont let her, I bet, does he always tell you what to do?” Cai asked with a laugh making you roll your eyes. Once dinner came to an end, you tried calling Jungkook but he didn’t answer, instead the call went straight to voicemail and you were dragged out to another bar.

Jungkook hadn’t been in the mood when he got onto the fighting mats. It was obvious on his face that he didn’t care much for how to fight fair, he cared more about getting his hands on someone and that made him scarier. It’s kind of alarming how one person can affect his mood for everyone else to deal with, especially when it meant fighting someone till he felt like stopping or was dragged off of them.

That’s evidently what had to have happened. His opponent was on the ground, coughing up blood and tapping on the mat wanting it to end but Jungkook just grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him up once more. The guy made a gurgling sound, surprise making him choke on his words and fell hard with a thud when Jungkook pushed him down once more. He kept him down with his hands in tight fists until the bell rang and Hoseok was hopping over to pull him up. Once again, Jungkook was a winner.

“Atta boy,” Hoseok said with a grin as he was made winner and followed after him and Namjoo to the locker room. Jungkook was tired and annoyed that he couldn’t even celebrate his win, even if Namjoon held the stack of money he won from not only the match but the betting too.

“Are you taking us out to celebrate, big winner,” Yoongi asked, the three oblivious to how silent Jungkook has been all night.

“No,” Jungkook said as he threw on a hoodie, feeling a tinge of paid on his shoulder from one of the times the guy was lucky enough to land a hit on him. He would surely raise but it wasn’t dislocated—he doesn't think.

“He’s probably tired of us and wants to go see his girl,” Namjoon said with a chuckle, handing Jungkook his portion of the money and letting him walk off on his own. Jungkook ignored the crowds of people congratulating him and got on his bike, slipped on his helmet and drove home.

He connected his dead phone to its charger before heading to shower and wash off the grime of fighting, the sweat and blood that came with it and try to rid himself of anger too. The whole time he was fighting, he couldn’t seem to let the thought of you go. It really did annoy the shit out of him how it felt like he wasn’t a priority in your life. How it seemed like he was the last one you think about while you’re at the front and center of his. It was unfair. You were probably off sitting at a table with your friends, not even caring about him at all.

When he got in bed he hoped you’d be calling him some time soon. He didn’t want to end the night without talking to you but he didn’t want to call you either. If he called you, then once again he would be the one putting effort into talking and you wouldn’t even care. So instead, he laid in bed with his feet hanging off the bed and his bruised arm thrown across his chest.

He thought about sleeping it off and just talking to you in the morning instead. That way he wasn’t annoyed by your absence anymore and he could talk to you when he was more level-headed but that thought head been instantly thrown out the window by what he found out.

At first, Jungkook didn’t want to believe the picture that was on his screen. If he believed it then he would have to come to accept that you lied to him and that was hard for him to swallow. Maybe he was overreacting, but then he thought about the way his chest tightened, his ribs squeezed around his heart, and his insides churned uncomfortably the longer he looked at it. The veins around his forearm protrude with the force he was applying on his phone, worried the screen would crack or he’d do something to make it stop working.

He needed it to work if he wanted his questions answered. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he went back to his messages, fingers trembling as he typed with urgency.

jungkook: y/n said she was just going to dinner.

hoseok: 😬looks like she lied to u

He had to read over the words twice, three times almost as he tried to think about what Hoseok was saying. You had no reason to lie to him and you both knew it. The two of you were supposed to be working on your relationship and it isn’t good for one of you to lie to the other. It was wrong, very wrong and he did not like being lied to.

Especially not when he couldn’t understand why you would want to lie to him. Even if he had been annoyed you were going out, you didn’t have to lie. You said you were going to dinner but you said nothing about going to the club, especially not with guys around you. Is that why you lied to him? Is that why you told him you would just be grabbing dinner? So that he wouldn’t have to think about the guys you would be drinking with and laughing with like you didn’t care about the boyfriend you ditched?

You were such a fucking liar. He sent one final text to Hoseok, asking where this was and it was the last thing he did before he got out of bed to find out for himself what you were up to.

“How come we’re always the last one’s to know you’re seeing someone?” Cai asked with a chuckle as he stood with you to the side while the others talked loudly about some old professor everyone shared, “Is it because I’m old? Be honest.”

“Oh my god, no, plus you’re still younger than Jin,” You laughed, “And because it kind of just happened. I don’t know, I haven’t been seeing Jungkook for long but he’s honestly great. When you meet him you’ll like him.”

”Well why didn’t you drag him out tonight?” Cai asked, slurring on his words a bit, “It would’ve been nice to meet my competition.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully. It isn’t the first time Cai has made comments like that but you always brush them off. He was talking to talk, he never meant anything by it and everyone knew it, “I should probably get going soon though, I've been gone longer than I told him I’d be.”

“Who cares, you’re with your friends its not like you’re doing anything wrong,” Cai said pulling at your arm to keep you next to him, “We haven’t had a chance to catch up in forever, he’ll be fine.”

A sigh left your lips as you looked down at your phone to see if he’s messaged you yet but there was nothing. It made you wonder just how upset he was with you and in the end, all you wanted to do was leave and go find him, “I think I should go.”

”Y/n,” Cai drunkenly whined as you began walking away but something stopped you and it wasn’t the arm Cai was holding onto you with. Just a couple yards away, your boyfriend’s familiar cold stare was directed to the person at your side and you couldn’t think fast enough. How did he know where you were? Ours not sure, everything happened so fast and that had been the last thing on your mind.

”Jungkook,” you called out to him as he stormed past you and with a closed fist, hit Cai straight on the jaw. The punch had him stumbling back into the bar table behind him and falling to the floor with a hand on his bleeding face. You cringed with shock as Jungkook kicked his side making Cai curl his body into a ball to stop the hitting but Jungkook didn’t stop.

“Stop!” You cried out, wanting it to end but unsure how to make that happen when Jungkook got on top of him and delivered clear blows to your friend’s face with a relentless amount of strength that not even Jin could put a stop to. A crowd had begun to crowd and bouncer’s were trying to make their way through but some guys you faintly remember hanging around Jungkook got to him first. It took both Namjoon and Hoseok to pull Jungkook off and even then he was fighting against their hold.

You were shaking with worry as you watched Yuna crouch down next to Cai who was covered in blood, you looked at Jungkook who was just seeing red and without thinking, you followed him out, uttering out apologies to all your friends as you did so.

”What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked him as Hoseok dragged him all the way outside.

“Get in your car and go before the cops show up,” He told him, speaking over you like what you said didn’t matter but Jungkook wasn’t listening to him.

“I thought you were just going to dinner!” Jungkook said angrily, sweat coating his hair as he yelled angrily, “Instead I find out you’re getting close with some other guy as if you don’t have a fucking boyfriend!”

“What are you talking about?” You felt like crying as you watched his friends keep him from getting too close to you, “He’s my frien—“

”Right, everyone is just your fucking friend, Y/n. So explain this,” Jungkook showed you his phone screen and your heart nearly dropped. It was a picture of you from inside the club with Cai’s arms around your waist. It had been two seconds of hi trying to get you to dance with him before everyone told him to keep his hands to himself but of course th picture made it look a hundred times worse than it was. You would never cheat on Jungkook nor give anyone the wrong idea and before this mess had happened, you were planning on leaving them and going to him.

“I tried to call you,” you attempted to say but Jungkook wasn’t listening, “Jungkook, you just attacked my friend, do you get that?”

”Oh fuck off, Y/n, why is your friend all over you when you have a boyfriend? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You lied to me, you ditched me for all of them—“

”That doesn't mean you put your hands on someone!” You yelled back in anger, “It feels like I don't even know you.”

You thought he was sweet. He was calm and caring and although you had wondered if he was scary, you never believed it. He was always so soft it’s you but right now… right now you watched him beat your friend to a pulp and h didn’t look sorry at all. If anything he looked ready for more.

Sirens were going off in the distance, surely coming in this direction and you took a step back from him,”We’re done.”

“What?” Jungkook asked, genuinely surprised, “Y/n—“

”Jungkook come on man, you can't get arrested again,” Namjoon said trying to pull his friend back and you didn’t miss what he implied. This wouldn’t be the first time he would get arrested and it just solidified how little you thought you knew about him.

“Get off me,” Jungkook pushed at his best friend as you began to walk away from him, “Y/n!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around as you headed back inside, ignoring the way he yelled out for you and looked for your friends.

It took two days for him to do something. You left him alone outside some nightclub while he called out for you and you never turned back. You didn’t answer his calls or texts and he waited. He waited two entire days for you to cool off and talk to him. In reality, he felt as though he should’ve been the one ignoring you. This happened because you didn’t prioritize him.

Now, you’ve tried to toss him aside like he didn’t matter to begin with and that is what bothered him the most.

He doesn’t give a fuck about your friends or the guy he left to bleed out on the ground. He cared about you and how you comforted someone else while he was dragged home by his friends. And even with how angry he was at you for trying to end it with him he still gave you time to get over it. He let you ignore him. He gave you the choice and now you’re taking advantage of it. Why are you doing this to him?

“I don’t know man, it was bad, you kind of went crazy,” Yoongi tried to tell him as he watched Jungkook bench press over his weight. The two were at the gym with Yoongi trying to get Jungkook out of this mood he’s been stuck in since Friday. He had this anger in him that wouldn’t disappear and the other night he was so mad, not only at the fighting match but at the club too and he should’ve stopped him. It’s not like none of them saw the signs, it had been so obvious before the fight that Jungkook was upset. Hoseok should’ve never shown him that picture.

“I was fine,” Jungkook muttered under his breath between counting his set, “Do I not have a right to be upset when another guy is grabbing at my girlfriend?”

Ex girlfriend, Yoongi thought but he pushed it aside as he spotted for Jungkook and made sure the barbell was put back into its holder when he sat up, “I didn’t say that but… don’t you think you’ve been taking things too far lately? What happened to that Minho guy?”

“Who cares? I’m tired of these people trying so hard to ruin what I’ve built with Y/n,” Jungkook huffed, “I love Y/n and she loves me too, alright? I’ve never felt this way for anyone else and I’m not going to let these fucking… pieces of shit take away the one thing I have ever wanted. You think I want Y/n to be scared of what I’ll do? Do you think I want her to push me away? No! She has to know that I love her so much I’ll do anything to make sure no one hurts her or gets in our way. That’s it.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what to say anymore. He would never do anything to go against his friend, he’s known him too long and knows too much about what the kid has gone through to ever turn against him but… for the first time, he truly believed something was seriously wrong with Jungkook.

“Is he really okay?” You asked Jin as he joined you for lunch on Monday.

“He’s alright, just a broken nose I guess,” Jin said to the three, “He said he’s not mad, y’know.”

“I know, but I just can’t look at him without feeling guilty,” You admitted, Cai had texted you he was alright after your dozen apologies but you haven’t gone to see him yet.

When you had gotten back inside, everyone was gone and off helping Cai up. Jin took him to the hospital because he didn’t want to deal with the cops either and Yuna and Sieun went with. The only one that had stayed behind was Jimin, hoping you’d be back and away from Jungkook. He took you home and you haven’t been able to see Cai since.

You just couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Jungkook was… he was like a stranger to you. The nice guy you had met was gone and replaced with some monster and it was hard for you to grasp.

Was this the same guy who stuck up for you when Jisoo was upset you rejected him?

The same guy who made you a custom helmet and whined whenever you left bed? He carried you home after a night drinking and took care of you without complaint. Was this really the same guy you saw ignoring the obvious egging of that stranger at the restaurant?

“I swear I’ve never seen Jungkook act like that,” you sighed, biting your bottom lip with worry, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Have you talked to him?” Jimin asked from your side.

“No,” you gasped in shock, “Obviously not, I— he’s tried contacting me but I’m not responding. He broke Cai’s nose.”

“I was just asking,” Jimin said with a shoulder shrug, “The guy’s a psychopath the way he just showed up and did that. He’s dangerous.”

Part of you wanted to deny that and say that Jungkook wasn’t dangerous at all but you can’t. You’re aware something is off about the way he acted and you couldn’t ignore it.

But he reacted so calmly when that guy at the restaurant was trash talking him. He didn’t even look at him and when you asked if he was alright, he said he was fine. How could he assault Cai without wasting a second to think it over? What made this instance different from the other guy? The other guy was actually saying things to get under Jungkook’s while Cai was just being his usual self but photographed in the wrong moment.

“Does anyone remember the news a couple weeks ago? Some guy was hurt in his own home?” You suddenly asked, “Who knows his name?”

“What?” Jin asked with confusion at the change of subject. He wondered if you were still uncomfortable talking about Jungkook and wanted an escape, “Kim Minho or something.”

Don’t ask why you suddenly thought of that but it had been at such an odd time. You had just been having dinner around that neighborhood and suddenly from somewhere around there someone was attacked. You didn’t think of it much back then but now with the way Jungkook had acted with Cai, it made you wonder.

“Alright, well I told Yuna I’d pick her up from work so I should probably get going,” Jin said as he stood up looking at you, “Are you gonna be okay?”

You gave him a brief nod as Jimin stood up too, asking for a quick ride with and it left you alone with Sieun faster than either of you realized. You talked a little during the dinner on Friday but it feels different lately, like she doesn’t want to be around you. Even when Jungkook attacked Cai, she didn’t message you and only tagged along when Jimin made her. It was strange.

“So are you mad at me?” You asked her. Sieun wasn’t looking at you but at the front of the cafe window trying to avoid your stare when you caught her off guard.

“No.”

“Really? It just feels like you’ve been acting different with me lately,” you said, “Is it because of Jungkook? Because of what happened on Friday?”

“It’s not tha—well, I don’t know Y/n. Jungkook seems… he seems like a violent person,” she said to you, “A-nd he doesn’t deserve you and neither do I.”

You looked at her with a sudden racing heart, “Neither do you? What do you mean?”

Her silence alarmed you and it was hard for you to ignore the nervous bite of her bottom lip and shifty eyes, “Did something happen between you guys?”

Now was the time to tell you, while you were still bothered by Jungkook. You had no idea what would come out of her mouth but knowing your friend and her history, it made you worried to find out. You already didn’t want to see him but if something happened between the two of them you can’t imagine it wouldn’t hurt you.

Sieun shook her head, “No. No—I mean, not what you think, but I was drunk and—“

“You slept with him?” You asked, tired of the way she kept stumbling over her words. She needed to just spit it out at this point. What was she trying to say?

“No, but I… Y/n, you’re my best friend and I know what I did was wrong but I did try and flirt with him—he turned me down fast! B-but, I don’t know, he just said some really hurtful shit,” Sieun said with her head down like she was too embarrassed to admit her wrongs.

“So… you were hitting on my boyfriend while sleeping over at my house and he said something that hurt your feelings?” Your tone was cold and distant like you want to sympathize with her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, “What did he say?”

“Nothing, I mean, he called me a slut and a trashy whore and basically told me to fuck off—understandable! I’m really sorry, Y/n, I was drunk,” she practically cried, “I don’t know, he was kind of scary and then seeing what he did to Cai…”

You didn’t say anything and it scared her. Obviously she’s well aware she made a mistake the night she slept over at your place and she seriously regrets it. She wished she wasn’t like this and she doesn’t want you to think you can’t trust her but Jungkook is intense and she doesn’t want you around him.

“Y/n—“

“I should go, I’m gonna be late to my last class,” you finally said with a sigh, raising from the table with your things and ignoring the way she called for your name. To be honest, you just weren’t sure how to take that. Part of you doesn’t want to care because of what Jungkook did to Cai and how it’s better that you just don’t talk to him again… but at the same time, you did have feelings for Jungkook. You wish you could say they disappeared the second he acted like someone you didn’t know but that wouldn’t be the truth at all.

You still want to be with Jungkook and that’s why it hurts you that he put his hands on someone you consider a friend. Not to mention what Sieun said hurt you more than you would like to admit. She’s supposed to be your friend and you know her habits but to find out she would do something behind your back to try and get with your then boyfriend… it doesn’t sit right with you at all.

And it’s annoying how much you missed Jungkook.

jungkook: can we talk

jungkook: ik u don’t want to see me but I miss u

jungkook: u haven’t talked to me in days

jungkook: im sorry

jungkook: can i come over to talk?

Days.

He watched days go past him and you still wouldn’t talk to him. It was getting ridiculous at this point and it was harder for him to be patient. Did you seriously mean it when you said it was over? Did you think he’d just let you walk away from him and have to suffer knowing you won’t talk to him ever again?

Not once since the two of you have met did he think he gave you any reason to want to end things with him and it’s hard for him to believe you’ll end it over something like this. He was upset that you lied to him after knowing he was already upset about you going out and then you dump him like he was in the wrong?

Frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck about what happened to your friend. He doesn’t care if the two of you were close or if he beat him on the floor till he was dragged off him. He doesn’t care if the guy is suffering or if your relationship with him is cut. You are with Jungkook, he should’ve been your first priority the same way you are his. He shouldn’t have to worry about other guys wanting to get with you. He’s loyal to you and he deserves the same so how is it his fault that he reacted in such a way? The picture was enough proof that you didn’t have boundaries with the people around you and all he did was help you set them. Why are you so upset with him because of it?

And it wasn’t fair for you to ignore him and not want to hear his side of things, it bothered him more than anything. He tried being patient, tried giving you time and not show up at your door every hour but he was left with no other option. It’s been hours since he pulled up to your apartment, waiting to see what time you would get home and it’s beginning to get to him.

To be clear, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with what he’s doing. He’s just decided that he’s going to make sure you have no choice but to talk to him. That’s why he’s been in his car across the street waiting to see what time you’ll be home so he could knock on the door.

What he hadn’t expected was to see you walk to the entrance with a guy at your side.

He told himself not to react. All he needed to do was sit back and wait for you to be alone. He didn’t want to think about who this person was and judging by the work attire—a coworker, he assumed—nor did he want to overthink it. You weren’t standing too close to him or looking too happy talking to him and Jungkook had to remind himself that the longer the two of you stood at your door talking. He was not jealous.

Seriously.

You can talk to whoever you want but while he can’t sleep over the fact that you tried breaking up with him, you seem completely fine. Maybe his vision is skewed but why don’t you seem as affected as he does? Why is he the one feeling tossed aside? Is it because he’s always put in more effort? He continues to put in more effort. And despite it all, you would rather spend your time talking and with literally anyone but him. That’s what he was mad about.

So he sat in his car and waited for the guy to leave and all he could think about was how he would storm over there and make you talk to him and try to work things out. He was going to make you forgive him because he can’t stand being away from you or seeing you with anyone else.

When the moment was right, he got out of his car, crossed the street to enter your building, and knocked on your door.

Your vision of him through the peephole was warped but there was no denying that was your ex boyfriend and you couldn’t contain the drop in your face. For some reason, since Jungkook hadn’t shown up at your place crying for you back, you hadn’t taken him as the type but now here he was, leaning his hand against the door looking through the peephole and waiting for you to let him in.

You were stuck between inviting him in or ignoring him further but you were too curious. You haven’t wanted to even think about Jungkook because you knew you would struggle being around him but you also wanted to see him. You missed him and everything you’ve heard should make you run but you can’t just forget he exists. You don��t want to and he’s tired of letting you.

“It’s late,” you said, using little effort to turn him away.

“I just want to talk,” Jungkook said, looking down the hall with worry, “You’ve been ignoring me.”

He said it so nonchalantly like he didn’t care either way and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Because we’re not together anym—“

“Says who? You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself, baby,” Jungkook said, circling the door handle and testing to see if it was locked.

You bit back a scoff in disbelief, swinging the door open in anger and barking back, “Defend yourself against what? I literally watched you attack my friend for no reason.”

“I know, I was out of line,” Jungkook pushed the door open, stepping in quickly before you could regret opening it and closing it behind him, “But… you lied to me. You knew I wanted us together that night and you chose your friends and then you lied about what you would be doing. I even told you how uncomfortable I felt for you to be with other guys when I’m not around and you lied and did it behind my back anyway. Do I not have a reason to be upset?”

“Then, you want to ignore me and act like I don’t matter at all and you expect me to just be okay with that?” He went on, his tone growing harsher the longer he went on, “I’m just supposed to stand back and let you throw me away when I’ve done nothing but try and show you how I’ve felt about you since the very beginning? How is that fair, Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, hand touching your forehead to ease an approaching headache as you tried to wrap your mind around everything he was saying. You also didn’t expect to suddenly be put on blast and have to deal with the mess that happened.

“I… you broke his nose—how did you even—how’d you know where I wa—you were so angry! It was scary, I’m sorry for lying but I was going to tell you. I tried calling you and you didn’t pick up!” You stumbled over your words, pacing your living room as you tried to talk, “And either way it doesn’t mean you put your hands on someone.”

He wanted to just scream at you and tell you to forget that. Forget your stupid fucking friend.

“Y/n, please, it was a mistake,” he tried to even out his tone and sound calmer, trying a different route to talk to you and get you to sit with him at least, “And I’ll apologize everyday if I have to but please don’t leave me because of it. I—I wasn’t thinking and all I saw was some guy talking to my girlfriend and trying to get touchy.”

“It was scary,” you admitted, warily as he sat down, taking your hand and trying to guide you to sit too, “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I know, and you don’t know how much I regret acting that way but I can’t deal with you ignoring me either, sit down please,” he said in a soft, calming tone. You reluctantly let him pull you down, sitting about a foot away from him.

Honestly, Cai had been acting a little too touchy that night but he was supposed to be one of your good friends and you were just going to move on and play it off like his usual self. It is one of those moments where you could understand why Jungkook was bothered, you do have a lot of guy friends and clearly not all have the best intentions. Does that still give him a right to do what he did? No, but… maybe Cai deserved it a little.

He’s the one who insisted on going out for a drink after dinner. He’s the one who stayed by your side majority of the night and begged you to stay. You’re still not sure how Jungkook knew exactly where you were or what picture but now you could only assume someone he knew spotted you. Maybe it looked like you were playing him for another guy and it sucks that you can understand why that would bother him.

Cai isn’t even mad still, of course he thinks you broke it off with Jungkook [which you did!] but how would he feel to know you’re sitting so close to him after feeling so sorry for your friend?

A sigh escaped your lips as you felt yourself slowly giving in to Jungkook and felt his arms down at your waist trying to pull you even close. You were being stubborn and making it hard for him to move you but he didn’t mind putting in the extra effort, he can just see your walls beginning to break down again, “Y/n, please baby, just stop ignoring me.”

You let him pull you onto his lap and even went as far as circling your arm around his shoulders for support as you said, “Why do you know how to fight so well?”

Your question took him off guard but he wasn’t going to act phased by it, instead he took a deep breath and decided he should be honest, “I box, remember? At the gym, a-and make a little money on the side from it.”

“Is that what you do when you hang with your friends?” You asked and he shook his head no.

“No, I wanted to put it behind me but the other night I went to fight because you wanted to go get dinner,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Y/n, I will put it all in the past if you take me back.”

“And what about what your friend said? About how you can’t go to jail again?” You asked abruptly, shifting away from him just slightly and his arms tightened at your waist, “Why are you keeping things from me but expecting me to be honest?”

“Because it’s different,” Jungkook answered bitterly, “I’m keeping things that I’m embarrassed of from you. There’s parts of me I’m too scared to show you and I don’t want you to run away from me, please. I know I have to work on things but I’ve been trying. I’ve been nothing but caring to you and I don’t think it’s fair that my past, of all things, is what pushes you away. I can’t change the things I’ve done but please, Y/n, I’ll be better. I swear it.”

You debated bringing up the Sieun part now that you’ve thought about it better but honestly, there’s nothing to mention. Obviously you hate any sort of slut shaming but she tried to get with your boyfriend. Jungkook chose questionable wording to turn her down but she shouldn’t have thrown herself at him in the first place, right? You decided you won’t stop talking to Sieun over it because as it seems, your boyfriend turned her down pretty fine on his own and it makes you want to trust him so it’s only right he’s able to trust you when you’re with guys, right? You’re going to continue to talk to Sieun but for now on you’re gonna keep her far from whoever you’re seeing because clearly she doesn’t respect you enough to stay away in her own. There’s just too many factors into being her friend or not and you don’t want to jeopardize your friendship with others because of it.

At some point throughout your rampant thoughts, Jungkook’s soft touch on your thigh hadn’t been enough to snap you out of your daze until you felt it travel higher than before.

“Think about it baby,” Jungkook said, thankful that today was like every other day where you wore your pretty little skirts that made it so easy for his hand to find where it wanted to go. Now, his rough fingers were grazing along the softness of your thigh teasingly, “How good are we together? Have I ever treated you wrong?”

You didn’t say anything, quite literally feeling where this was going and stuck between putting a stop to it and letting it go on. He placed a soft kiss against your shoulder blade, “And you’ve missed me too, I know you have so why act like we don’t belong together?”

He felt the way a gasp caught in your throat as his hand disappeared just under your skirt, teasing your inner thighs now. Your hand fell over his as though you’d push him away if he took it too far but you didn’t. You let the tip of his middle finger press against your pantie clad heat testing to see how far he could go before you stopped him. He just can’t help it, he really had missed you so much and he hasn’t been able to see or touch you in so long. How was he supposed to hold himself back when you’re sitting on his lap? If you were still upset with him, you wouldn’t even want him around you but instead he’s managed to get you exactly where he wants you and that’s in his arms.

“Because we barely know anything about each other,” you said bitterly, your back stiffening with anticipation as he teased your covered cunt under your skirt. You really should push him away.

“That’s not true,” Jungkook whispered against your neck, his other hand joined the one under your skirt and moved your underwear to the side making you let out a gasp at the sudden exposure, “I know where you grew up, what you’re studying, what you look like in the morning, what makes you upset, how you like your breakfast and… and I know the sounds you make when I touch you right here.”

To further his point along, he pressed a gentle touch to where your clit is hidden under its hood. He was pulling reactions from your body that you didn’t expect to give him anymore. There was a slight wetness between your folds now that he teased a finger into, sliding it between your labia until his finger was soaked in it. Then, he brought the same coated finger to your clit, softly pressing circles around it as it hardened with his touch. As he did all this, he kissed along your neck nearly making you forget whatever went wrong.

“But what do I really know about you?” You tried to ask between panting breaths, unable to stop your hips from slowly gyrating against his lap when he touched you with both hands, “You’re the one who has been lying, you never told me about your fighting.”

“I planned to,” he admitted, his hand sliding down your folds gently, middle finger pressing into the puddle of slick he knew your entrance was located at. With the added stimulation to your clit, he could feel your body begin to squirm on his lap and it was making his jeans tighten around his groin as he felt arousal begin to seep into his own body. “I was going to tell you everything when the right time came along, you know that.”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, either in a moan or warning but you couldn’t tell anymore and let your head fall back against his shoulder, bucking your hips to meet his hand. His touch was gentle but firm, his caress along your thigh was teasing and when his lips pressed against your neck, you couldn’t help but spread your legs just a little further.

“Yes, baby?” The length of his finger fit perfectly between your folds, massaging them each time he pulled his finger out of your wet pussy. You had begun to grind against his hardened bulge, dragging your hips against his cock while he fingered you. A low groan bubbled in his chest as he looked at your pretty face, lips parted softly and fucking yourself on his fingers, “Did you miss me too?”

You nodded your head, breathing heavily when you felt him dig his stiff cock against your sensitive cunt. The rough material of his jeans felt surprisingly good against your thighs and couldn’t help but hump against it. His lips brushed against yours, “Say it.”

“I missed you,” the words barely made it past your lips before he was kissing you, making you try and twist your upper body to reach him better and moaned into his mouth when he pushed another finger into your cunt, fucking you with both while his tongue made out with yours.

You didn’t receive much warning to the knot that tightened in your stomach the deeper his fingers felt like they could go, and with the sudden adrenaline coursing through your veins, you couldn’t control the wave of orgasm that hit you. Jungkook knew just how to curl his fingers, tease your clit and kiss your neck. It was unfair to come undone by him so easily. Embarrassing even.

Jungkook was left to think the complete opposite. He felt the way your body gave itself to pleasure, felt your thighs twitch and threaten to close. Felt the way your breath hitched between kisses and how you arch your back off him to fight against the feeling he brought to you. It made his cock jump to know he so easily pulled such responses from you, made you feel good and relaxed. Since the first time, he’s been obsessed with making you feel good.

“Let’s take these off,” Jungkook mumbled in a groggy voice laced with arousal. He tugged at the hem of your ruined panties, finally annoyed by them and pulled them down your thighs, “They’re in my way.”

You helped take them off as he began to unbutton his jeans, kicking them off along with his tight briefs that did a poor job of hiding his erect dick. It nearly peaked out from the hem and he got rid of them as fast as he could. His cock stood at attention, watching the way you had leant forward to toss your underwear aside and he couldn’t help but touch it. His hand was still covered in some of your release but it created a soft glide as he jerked his cock teasingly, “Can you sit on it?”

Jungkook had a strange way of sounding demanding while gentle, he had a way of getting what he wanted. Although you were the one to be so hesitant to even let him inside, the thought has completely left your body as you did as told. You didn’t care for protection or anything in the way, in truth you were beyond turned on and you forgot how good Jungkook made you feel.

All that talk about being done, not knowing anything about him and being scared was for nothing because you took his cock all the same. You both moaned at the raw feel of your walls tightening around his dick. You weren’t at all crazy about sex, but you had it with him often and going without it the past week and a half felt too long. Jungkook knew how to please you, he was a good boyfriend and so fucking attractive it was hard for you to care about his other red flags.

And as if someone knew you were succumbing to your supposed ex boyfriend and how his walls stretched you out, the table lit up with a call displayed on your phone. Your hands supported yourself on his knees as you sunk down on his cock, feeling the way his hands inched up your torso, yanking on your shirt to get it off you.

“Good girl,” Jungkook sighed out when you took him fully, swaying your hips to adjust to his size and giving his cock a squeeze, “Just ignore them, alright?”

You bit your lip, looking at the screen where a group call was waiting for you. It was like a wake-up call about your friends and how intimidating Jungkook was to them. He was aggressive and cruel, but was he? He apologizes for what happened with Cai, and he doesn’t care for Sieun because he’s loyal to you so where’s the real problem? It’s definitely not where he groped at your tits, bucking into your cunt with his thick cock, knowing just what pace you liked.

“Fuck,” you let out a soft gasp when it felt like his dick was reaching deeper inside you as he leant forward, making you hold onto the end of the coffee table for support. Your knees hit the ground and he knelt behind you, arching your back just a little more to feel the way your walls rubbed around his dick during every thrust.

“Unless you want them to know who’s fucking you right now,” Jungkook said, his free hand gripping at your hips under your skirt and fucking you on his cock from behind. At some point he hand flung his t-shirt off and he had a clear view of your ass under the skirt. His V-line seemed more pronounced everytime he bucked his hips into you and the veins leading down his navel seemed to throb to life with all the blood flowing to where he fucked you.

He was clearly bluffing [you think] and it made your eyes roll to the back with pleasure, arching back into him and pushing your phone further away before he got any ideas. You clicked for it to stop, struggling with the way your body seemed to jump with each thrust, and flipped it to face down.

“Fuck,” you repeated, dropping your head down, “No.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the way his face hardened at your whispered no, surely implying that you didn’t want them to know who you were with. He, personally, didn’t seem to care if they knew he was fucking you so well that you could barely stand. What did they expect? He was patient, he was persistent and he was the only one you should be with at the end of the day. Was it the thought of your friends knowing you were having sex or the thought of them knowing it was with him that you didn’t want?”

Didn’t you want him?

“No? Why not?” He asked, hunching over your back to reach your neck, speaking in your ear, “You don’t want anyone knowing you’re with your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend.

Did you decide to take him back and forget everything else? You could fight back and tell him that he’s not your boyfriend but what if that made him stop fucking you?

Did it make you a bad friend to still be with the one guy who makes you feel things and treats you in ways you’re not used to? Jungkook knew you were close again, and he knew it would be hard to get any real response from you but he tried it anyway, knowing just what he wanted you to say, how he wanted you to say it.

“Right, baby, you’re not leaving me,” Jungkook said bluntly, fingers tracing down your side knowing how sensitive you were to any touch, “You and I aren’t breaking up.”

“Jungkook—“

“You’re not going to try and leave me again, are you?” Jungkook asked with a harsh thrust that had your head falling forward with a moan. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, trying to drag your head up to look at him. “I love you.”

Your hand tapped against the coffee table as if asking for a tap-out but he kept going, feeling how you tightened and recoiled against his cock. You were so close. So very close to cumming all over him and he couldn’t wait.

“Say you love me,” he begged, teasing you with open mouth kisses.

“I love you,” you gasped the quicker he went, feeling yourself close to snapping.

“Say it again,” he thrusted into you deeply, giving your hips no room to move as he trapped you against the coffee table.

“I love you,” you repeated with a moan you couldn’t control.

“Again,” he begged, hands falling to the edge of the table and stuffing you with as much of himself as you could take, your sudden high hitting you like before.

The words could barely form on your lips as you let go, feeling your orgasm reach your entire body. Jungkook waited, clenching his jaw the tighter your walls clamped down on him and before he knew it, he was cumming. His eyes squeezed shut with pleasure as he fell limp against your back, “I love you so fucking much, please don’t ever leave me again.”

You would think that by the way he was acting it was like you were broken up for years, not days, and it reminded you of just how obsessed it felt like he was. His need to talk to you all day, visit you all night, and get jealous whenever your attention wasn’t on him.

He was possessive and a liar but why did he care for you so gently? Why was he so harsh with everyone but you and how could you not want to give in to him?

Even as you felt his cum drip out of you when he pulled out, you weren’t worried about the failure to use protection. In truth you were a little dazed by the entire evening to process what had just happened. Your ex suddenly showed up to your place begging for you back with his dick in your pussy and stars in your eyes. Were you not supposed to give in after all of that?

“Angel,” Jungkook touched your naked back softly, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you said looking back at him and the way he still struggled to catch his breath, clearly as equally affected by it as you.

“Come here,” he said lovingly as he helped you to your feet, “You look tired.”

He was smug too, a smile showing as he led you to your bedroom like everything was back to normal and you let him. He washed up with you, joined you in your bed and held you while you slept the night away.

All his hard work had paid off and he was back with you in his arms and no one in the way. Whatever you might have thought about him, about him and the guy from the restaurant, or his secret fighting and how he attacked Cai went out the window. You didn’t care about any of it when you were with him.

Everything had gone back to what he considered normal. He was spending practically every night he desired over at your place and you weren’t pushing him away. You gave up on trying to push him away and you’ve been happier ever since.

You haven’t been honest with your friends about him though, they don’t know how you’re back together and frankly, you would rather keep it that way. Cai is finally doing better but things are still awkward between you even if he says he isn’t mad. At the end of the day, he was assaulted just for being around you, even if he had been too touchy. You’re lucky he isn’t pressing charges on Jungkook and you really don’t want anyone to know how easily you took him back. It made you feel shitty but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkook does make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“Are you going to go get it?” Jimin asked as you searched inside your backpack for the sixth time in search of your laptop. You forgot it at home and you only knew this because Jungkook had so kindly sent you a text asking if you didn’t need it today. You were running late this morning due to your boyfriend who wouldn’t let you out of bed fast enough and left it on the counter on your way out the door. You had an online exam in less than an hour and you really didn’t want to have to borrow one from the campus library.

“Yeah, if I run I can make it back in time,” you said with a sigh as your two friends followed behind you.

“Want me to come with?” Sieun asked, clearing her throat awkwardly. Since you found out about how she threw herself at Jungkook, she’s made it her mission to get on your good side again. You could’ve easily ended your friendship with her but then you thought about how funny the situation was. As annoying and absurd as it was that she would even try to get at Jungkook, there was something satisfying to know he didn’t succumb to her flirting. Plus, she apologized and you enjoyed making her have to beg for your friendship again.

“Not really, you’ve got another class soon, don’t you?” You said, brushing it off like you were thinking about the trouble it would cause her. In reality, you knew your boyfriend was probably home early from work, probably video gaming on your couch with Bam at his feet and no shirt on. You really didn’t need that to be what she walked into. They walked you to the bus stop but you found yourself wanting to turn away when you looked ahead. You were too nervous to look at either of them but you could read it in the way that they slowed their pace, they were looking at Jungkook.

Just at the entrance gates stood your boyfriend with his signature motorcycle behind him and a baseball cap lowered over his eyes. He smiled at you, opening his backpack and pulling out your laptop.

You couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief you felt as you walked up to him still feeling nervous. You took your laptop and stuffed it into your backpack, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a laugh, taking your hand in his and pulling you closer, “I brought it so you wouldn’t have to go back home for it. I thought you’d be a little more thankful.”

“I am, thank you,” you confessed, unable to help the way you looked back at Jimin and Sieun who stood there surprised at the sight. They couldn’t wrap their mind around the idea of you taking your violent boyfriend back.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, lifting his head to look behind you but his vision was slightly obscured by the rim of his hat. He didn’t have to see more to understand what the problem was and he couldn't help but let his jaw clench with annoyance. He had growing suspicions and what it might be and he’s not liking it. It’s as if you didn’t want your friends to see you with him.

“Nothing, but seriously, thanks for bringing it to me. I was just about to start walking home,” you said, hoping to ease some of the tension, “I should probably go and study for this exam because I have a strong gut feeling I’m going to fail. Are you staying over again?”

“Can I?” Jungkook questioned, arm tightening around your waist, “Or are you tired of me yet?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You can come over whenever you want, you know that. But okay—I should get going.”

He caught you before you could let go of him and smiled sweetly, teasingly, “Can I get a kiss first?”

It was such a small favor but it felt deeper than that. His smile barely reached his eyes and he was strongly aware of the audience behind you that stared at him with worry. You haven’t told your friends and it bothers him to know you want to keep him a secret. After everything he’s done to get back with you, you want to hide it from your friends? You thought he wouldn’t find out?

“Your hat is in the way,” you said awkwardly trying to pry his arm off you so you could disappear into the library where your friends wouldn’t ask what was going on. You could feel their eyes glaring at the back of your head and seeing Jungkook was surprising enough, watching you kiss him would be unspeakable.

Jungkook grabbed his ballcap by the bill and turned it around on his head, flipping it so the bill was facing the back and the back was in the front, “Better?”

Your lips parted in a small gasp, practically drooling at how he looked. He made it so incredibly hard to resist him. This time around, he grinned, loving the way your cheeks flushed when he riled you up and without asking, leant down to catch your lips with his.

You immediately kissed him back, forgetting about the people who would soon be interrogating you and enjoyed it. When you pulled back, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning at the taste of you on his tongue, “I’ll pick you up after?”

“Sure,” you said breathlessly, “But I should really go now.”

“Mhm,” Jungkook chuckled looking back at Sieun and Jimin, not caring about the glares they sent him, “Text me when you’re done.”

He watched you walk away with him satisfied by the look of disgust in their faces. When he looked at Sieun, she looked a little scared, and self conscious. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to hide from the hurt his words made her feel still to this day and looked away quickly. Jimin seemed more annoyed than anything, he couldn’t stand the sight of you with Jungkook and it brought him a sort of smugness. He couldn’t take his smirk as he threw a leg over his bike and put his helmet on.

It never bothered Jungkook what anyone else thought about him anyway. He was always going to do and act the way he wanted and at the end of the day, it didn’t change a thing. You saw how violent he could be, you’ve heard what he’s said and yet you still choose him. You chose him over everyone else and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

::.

gahdamn this shit is so long 😭😭😭 damn near two months worth of writing so bare with me

NO PART TWO cause look how long this hoe is. to clarify, jk is not a good person in this fic but he’s hot and it’s fiction so who cares. I was going for something that radiated romantic dreams and fighting hearts so I’m hoping it landed 🤞

PSA: I will be posting a new Google form for my taglist soon bc I can’t access my old one and ik some of the users are inactive now but who knows when I’ll be able to do that sooooo

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions

[elliewithcellie]

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI

fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words

“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 

he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 

cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.

he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.

“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.

“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 

a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 

“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."

normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 

levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”

you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 

levi makes his way towards the door. 

“levi?” 

he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 

but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 

you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 

he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 

he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 

no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 

levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 

their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 

his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 

“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.

armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”

levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 

he should've known.

“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.

“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."

levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 

“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”

eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 

or so he thought, anyway.

historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 

“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”

levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.

eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 

it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 

“how long have you been together?”

“does she actually like you?” 

“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 

“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 

“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 

"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 

“five—” 

a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.

levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.

even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.

he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.

[jyoongim]

Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)

Title: A Reminder To All…

Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.

It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.

You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what 

You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.

You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.

There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.

You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?

You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.

why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.

A shiny pink camera caught your attention.

And it was cheap.

You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.

what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.

that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.

Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.

you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.

You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch

”what is that my dear?” 

You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera

His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.

”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.

He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.

”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?” 

you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”

His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”

you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.

Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.

after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.

You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.

why the hell was it so cold?

you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.

your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.

Alastor.

In his demon form.

Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”

He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.

you were so confused.

you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.

“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.

You tilted your head confused at his question.

he was angry about a damn camera?

A clawed hand was at your throat.

”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”

You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.

”A-Al?!”

Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.

when the hell did he undress?

You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.

”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.

You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.

your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…

”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”

A long tongue sweated the side of your face

”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.

Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.

Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.

Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.

A blinking red dot turned on and off.

Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.

”eyes on me dear”

you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.

Antlers.

you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.

you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.

he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.

He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.

You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.

the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.

”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.

Moans and whines filled the room as he  pounded your cunt.

A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.

you were gonna cum soon.

”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.

Did he get bigger?

you were suddenly face to face with him.

Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.

Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.

you tugged.

Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.

you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.

Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera

”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.

you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.

”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.

He gave a reminder.

Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.

[lcvemiyuki]

"in proximity" | hq, ushijima

content: ushijima asking for help on English is one thing--him sitting just inches away from you is another

tags+warnings: fluff, ushijimaxfem!reader, thirdyear!ushijima, tendou+semi appearance, not proofread

character(s): ushijima

word count: 1.6k

a/n: im sorry in advance this was written on the bus LMAO

Brown shoes pattered as the students of Shiratorizawa started to cluster in the slightly filled classroom. It was lunch break, and you decided to stay in with your feet bouncing slightly and earbuds in, the music blasting so loud it could be heard from the external world. It was so loud you didn’t pick up on the dress shoes cladding on the wooden floor. You were so focused on reading up the next lesson for English that you didn’t feel a tall, looming presence in front of the desk.

“[Y/N].”

A few more seconds passed until an unknown hand plucked your right bud out of your ear.

The muted classroom suddenly filled your hearing, and the chatter of classmates could be heard crystal clear. Your eyebrows furrowed at the action, and you trailed your eyes to follow up the cladded arm until you reached a calm, yet slightly tilted head.

Wakatoshi Ushijima.

Your mouth clamped shut with only a slight hum in response to the stunned and sudden intrusion of the ace on your academy’s precious volleyball team.

Your puzzled expression had you blinking your eyes more than usual, causing him to only slightly clear his throat.

“I know you may not know me, but you’re [Y/N], right?” His expression remained unchanged as if carved from stone. It almost felt like you were in deep trouble with how a million eyes darted right at the two of you.

After quickly glancing around the now hushed classroom, you peered back up at him and nodded, “Of course, I know who you are, Ushijima-san.”

The pressure of possibly being the next target of rumors in the upcoming week terrified you. It was astonishing at the rate and creativity these students could create over the slightest piece of information.

He only nodded in return and began to rummage through the black book bag slung across his body. It took him a moment to finally find what he was looking for, and he stretched out his unwavering hand to reveal another English textbook.

“I was hoping you could tutor me for the upcoming finals.”

“Huh?” You quickly zipped your lips shut as the thoughts in your head blurted out.

Okay, that really stumped you; your eyes scanned the area for some sort of snicker or nudge of the arms as a sign of a prank.

But that wasn’t part of his nature, was it—no, he meant business with how his sandy-brown eyes never left yours.

It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it either. His voice was crystal clear and projected enough for everyone to chime in. You would expect that from the volleyball captain, yet he still needed your help with English.

“What do you need help with?” you continued.

There was a short pause as he suddenly moved away from your gaze, his hand reaching out for a vacant chair and pulling it up next to you. The slightly grating sound of the chair legs scraping against the wooden floor paused any remaining conversation in the classroom, drawing all eyes to the two of you.

His sudden presence filled your senses in seconds as his side profile came into view. The scent of fresh laundry lingered in the air as he was near. You could see the fine details of his chiseled jawline, and the determined set of his brow. Up close, it was no surprise he looked even more handsome.

Suddenly, your palms felt a little sweaty, and the room got a little warmer.

His intense focus and proximity made it hard to breathe steadily. His huge frame caused him to lean back on the small wooden chair, making it creak slightly under his weight. Meanwhile, your frame remained sort of uptight, your back straight as a rod, in fear you might accidentally touch him.

The sheer size of him was overwhelming; his broad shoulders seemed to take up more space than the chair allowed, and his legs spread slightly to accommodate his height. His arm brushed lightly against yours as he reached forward, causing a spark of electricity to shoot up your spine.

He placed the blue textbook next to yours, his large, calloused hands moving with surprising gentleness. Flipping to a certain page, he revealed a passage that had been neatly bookmarked, as if he already knew exactly what he needed help with. The text was underlined and annotated in pencil, showing his efforts to understand it on his own.

His voice, low and steady, broke the silence. "I figured you would be the best to tutor me."

He glanced over at your in-progress notes, his gaze unwavering and thoughtful. The closeness of his presence made the air around you feel charged, every small movement amplified your heightened awareness.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I... I’d be happy to help, Ushijima-san."

He nodded appreciatively, his stoic expression softening ever so slightly. “Thank you. I won’t take much of your time. It’s quite difficult to find time after school to study.”

As you started to explain the notes you had been working on, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze on you. It was intense like he was studying every word you said, every movement you made.

The sliding door abruptly slammed open, the force of it causing a few heads to turn in surprise. An overly excited redhead waltzes into the room, a completely annoyed companion trailing behind him.

“I thought I saw ya in the window while walking past, Ushi!” Tendou explained, his mouth wide open with a pearly-white smile, eyes gleaming with mischief. His voice echoed through the now silent classroom, making sure everyone knew of his arrival.

Ushijima barely reacted, his focus still on the textbook in front of him, but a faint sigh escaped his lips. You, on the other hand, jumped slightly in your seat, your eyes widening at the sudden intrusion.

Tendou stopped just inside the doorway, leaning against the frame with a casual, almost theatrical air. Semi stood beside him, his expression shifting into one of mild entertainment at the sight. “And look who you’re with! [Y/N], right?” Tendou’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he peered over in your direction, taking in the view of the English textbooks and your notes spread across the desk.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yes, that’s right.”

Tendou grinned wider, not moving from his spot. “Tutoring, huh? Just like we sai—uh, thought so!” He straightened up slightly, trying to awkwardly save himself from the slip-up. His eyes darted everywhere as he looked around, trying to gauge the room’s reaction.

The ash-blonde friend next to him raised an eyebrow in amusement, then let out a small scoff, clearly entertained by Tendou's ridiculous attempt to cover up his mistake.

Ushijima glanced at his teammates, his expression unchanging as he blinked up at the two.

“Yes, that’s right.” he parrots you as he responds to Tendou.

Tendou chuckled, his voice carrying easily across the classroom. “Well, we wouldn’t want our star player struggling with finals, would we?” He shot you a teasing grin before wiggling his eyebrows.

Tendou clapped his hands together, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room. “Alright! Let’s go and nourish our starving bellies, Semi-pooh,” he cooed, waving a hand towards the sliding door.

Semi’s eye twitched as he muttered a curse word under his breath. “Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, his annoyance clear, but he still followed Tendou out of the classroom.

As they left, Tendou continued to chatter animatedly, his voice fading as they walked down the hallway. Semi’s occasional responses, a mix of chuckles and sighs, echoed faintly back into the room.

You were left there dumbfounded in your chair as you couldn’t help but glance back at Ushijima. He, on the other hand, resumed his notes like nothing had happened.

‘Huh, that was weird.’

You decided not to think anything of it.

𓇢𓆸 Later that day

“I told you to sit across from her, not next to her!” Tendou’s voice echoed out from the locker room, a blend of exasperation and amusement in his tone.

Ushijima glanced up from his phone, intrigued. Tendou’s rants were a familiar occurrence, but this time, there was a sharpness to his words that captured Ushijima’s attention.

“You were practically crowding her! I could feel the awkward tension all the way from the doorway!” Tendou continued, his arms waving dramatically as he paced back and forth. His eyes were wide with mock horror, clearly relishing the chance to tease his stoic friend.

“I thought it would be more efficient,” Ushijima said, his brow knitting slightly.

Tendou snorted, laughter reverberating in the confined space. “Efficient, huh? Sure, let’s go with that.” He gave Ushijima a knowing look, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. “Come on, Ushi, we both know why you really wanted to sit next to her.”

Ushijima’s expression remained impassive. “I respect her intelligence.”

Tendou’s grin broadened, his enjoyment evident. “Mhm? And you wanted to be close to her too~”

Ushijima’s gaze dropped back to his phone, his fingers idly tapping the screen as he sat on the dark wooden bench, his posture relaxed.

“That’s why I suggested you ask her for help,” Tendou said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned against the lockers. “You needed an excuse to spend time with her.”

The room was filled with the familiar silence Tendou was accustomed to.

He clapped Ushijima on the shoulder, his cue that he was taking off. “You’ll get the hang of it. Just remember to give the lady a little space next time.”

Ushijima remained seated on the bench, fingers navigating to his contact list. At least he got one thing right: asking for your number.

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