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#i worked on these early and not the week of as well
theglamorousferal · 3 days
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Immortal Everlasting Trio who have been exploring the Infinite Realms for the last few centuries. The three of them are flying, braiding their paths as they make their way through the Realms.
“How do you think Ellie is doing in her current incarnation?” Nightshade asks of her partners,
“Hmm probably well, she was exploring the galaxy this time right? I could always check?” Pharaoh responds, a keyboard made of sandstone appears at his fingertips.
“She feels content.” Said Phantom, soothing the worries of the other two. The stars that are freckles on his face brighten with the comment.
They swirl around each other in lazy patterns, unknowing of the passage of time, when Phantom feels a tug at his core. The trio circle up, his partners noticing the shift in mood.
“I don’t recognize this one.” He mutters to himself, placing a hand on the center of his chest. “It’s none of the family, but it is a bit familiar.” He furrowed his brow, trying to trace the sensation to its source. He closed his eyes and felt the pull of magic. “It doesn’t feel malicious, there’s desperation and curiosity for sure, but I feel no ill intent.” He thought for a moment. “I’m going to follow it. I want to know why this feels familiar”
Nightshade formed a purple bloom and tucked it behind one of his ears and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Be safe.”
Pharaoh gently took his hand and kissed it, bestowing a glass bangle to his wrist. “Don’t make stupid decisions,” he smirked, “without us.”
Phantom laughed and in a flash of bright white light he was gone.
* * *
With a flash of light so bright it temporarily blinded, Phantom appeared in a summoning circle. The room he now occupied was large, a massive sofa made up a good portion of the room and there was a kitchen off to the side. Turning around, there was a large screen with even larger windows behind it. He turned back and now saw the people in the room.
One was green with a unitard on, one was sitting criss cross in front of some candles, a book and a small cauldron, one was floating and had a mass of bright pink hair, one was a cyborg of some kind and stood at the ready with a cannon for an arm and the last was shielding his eyes with a black cape.
“Who summons me?” Phantom asked in a far quieter tone than the teens apparently expected.
The one who appeared to have done the ritual stood and spoke first. “Mighty Phantom, we seek your assistance in dealing with a massive threat to our world. The demon Trigon looks to the Earth as his next conquest.” They took a breath and looked down. “He intends to use my power to do it, and I do not have the strength to stop him.”
Phantom settled his feet on the ground and placed a hand on their shoulder. “Peace young one. Why don’t we start with introductions? As you know, I am Phantom, he/him, now who has managed to summon me?”
“I am Raven, she/her, the rest here are my team the Teen Titans.” She turned to her team, they all seemed shocked. “I apologize for them, usually they take things in stride a lot easier. This is Beast Boy, he/him, Starfire she/her, Cyborg, he/him, and Robin, he/him.”
“Hmm, may I see the text you used to summon me?” He gestured to the book on the floor. “I was not aware of anything that could summon me in this realm. It is familiar to me though, I can’t place why.”
Raven raised the book into his hand. He leafed through it humming to himself before stopping on a photo of a note that looked familiar. He smiled to himself, remembering the time a century ago to him that himself and his partners helped a small civilization and they left a way for the leader to contact them if they needed help. He skimmed the next few paragraphs and then laughed and closed the book.
“I’ll help. In fact, my partners and I will help. It’s been a long while since we were in a mortal realm. I will return in a week’s time your time to discuss what we need to do. This will work to summon us if we forget or if your danger arrives early.” He magicked a paper with a seal on it and handed it to her. “I must discuss with my partners and will do research on this Trigon. Thank you for calling us, we’ve been aimless for too many decades. Have a good night.” He vanished in another flash of light.
* * *
Phantom appeared in a flash of light cackling as he tumbled across the chess board his partners were playing on, scattering the flowers and sandstone pieces across the green sky.
“Beloved you know not to do that,” Nightshade gathered the giggling king into her lap, Pharaoh moving to lean against her shoulder and push the hair from the eyes of Phantom, “but what has you laughing so?”
Phantom mimed wiping a tear from his eye. “Remember that civilization we helped out a century ago? Well apparently a few hundred years have passed in that world and the people we helped revered us as gods. A sorceress summoned us for help defeating a demon. They were so cute, little teenage heroes like we once were.” He sighed and settled into the arms of his lovers. “Have either of you heard of Trigon?”
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clockwayswrites · 1 day
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A Bird and a Menace of Bats - Part 17
masterpost
“We could always look up where he lives,” Tim suggested.
Bruce gave his son a tired look, turning slowly that he was sure not to jostle the sleeping man on his shoulder. “No, we can’t.”
“Sure you can. WE has to have it on file.”
“That would be a gross misuse of my postilion and an invasion of privacy,” Bruce said. “As in something Danny could very well sue for as us taking him home has nothing to do with his work and why we would have his address on file.”
“What about his driver’s license?” Duke suggested.
“He doesn’t have one, or at least not on him,” Dick said. He had Danny’s jacket pulled open and was carefully feeling inside for pockets.
Next to him, Jason was going through the card pocket on the back of Danny’s cellphone case.
“He does have a rewards card for Lacey’s though, so good taste there.”
Bruce rubbed tiredly at his face. “Dick, stop looking for a wallet. Jason, put all the cards back where you found them, please, and no hacking the phone.”
“You’re no fun anymore,” Jason said in a mocking whine.
Stephanie stifled a snicker.
“Stephanie, stop stalking him on social media and Babara, stop using what she’s found to try and triangulate where he is from,” Bruce said.
“Jason’s right,” Stephanie said as she slumped dramatically back into the seat, “you’re no fun anymore.”
“Yes, how boring of me,” Bruce drawled, “not invading the privacy of a man so unwell that he fell asleep in a noisy limo full of near strangers.”
Cass leaned forward at that.
Bruce quickly shifted gears to try and reassure her. “He’ll be alright, Cass.”
“Breathing is shallow. Heart?”
Bruce nodded. “He said there was an accident when he was a child that affected his heart and pulse. It was very slow and weak early after he stood up from his seat and had to sit back down. But he also said that it wasn’t unexpected and that he’s been to his doctor recently.”
“He did take this week off.”
“Tim.”
“What?” Tim said defensively. “He befriended my sister, I had to check him out.”
At least that was a reasonable excuse in case Danny was hearing any of this.
“If he’s doing badly, he shouldn’t be home alone, right?” Stephanie asked far too innocently.
“Not that we even know where he lives without waking him. Shouldn’t we let him rest?” Tim added.
“I shall start to the Manor then,” Alfred said, bringing an abrupt end to the discussion so suddenly that was that.
For what felt like the millionth time that night, Bruce sighed heavily.
-
It rather said something about the family that they were both efficient and graceful in getting an unconscious body out of the car. Bruce, with Dick’s help, passed Danny to Jason who held him out of the way as the rest of the family climbed out. Bruce was surprised to have Danny passed to him the moment Jason was able, but Bruce was quickly distracted.
“Right?” Jason asked.
“Hn.”
“Hn? Hn what?” Steph asked, popping up at Bruce’s elbow.
“The guy’s too light,” Jason answered. “It’s like he’s got bird bones.”
Tim stifled a snicker. Bruce, once again, sighed.
“Tim, take Steph and go help Alfred make sure the room is ready,” Bruce instructed. “Dick, help wrangle. Cass, darling, go rest. Jason, manage the doors for me, please.”
There was a coarse of agreement and the children were off. Bruce and Jason followed more sedately to be gentle on Bruce’s sleeping cargo.
“Jokes aside, he’s too light,” Jason said, keeping his quiet words between them. “This might be more than just a weak pulse.”
What Jason didn’t say is that they knew it was more than just a weak pulse—or at least it had been that night. It was concerning to think what lingering effects the transformation might be having on Danny. Especially concerning because…
“Cass is already attached,” Jason said, as if finishing Bruce’s own thoughts.
“I know.”
“And now the others are curious. Well, more curious.”
“I don’t suppose I could pay you to keep them in line?”
Jason snorted. “Even you couldn’t afford that, old man.”
“I was afraid not,” Bruce said as he fought back a smile.
Despite Jason’s refusal, Bruce knew that his son would keep his eyes others. Jason wouldn’t likely stop them, but he would keep an eye on them. Danny was still enough of an unknown that Bruce couldn’t help but be wary of the man’s presence in the middle of the family.
At least the guest wing was on the other side of the Manor from the family wing. The spaced eased the anxiety, a little. Alfred was just finishing shoeing Stephanie and Tim from the guest room as they approached and Jason peeled off to take his leave with them. Bruce entered the room with Danny on his own.
And apparently it was going to stay that way as Alfred said, “I trust you to see our guest settled,” and closed the door.
Bruce resisted the urge to sigh one more time.
At least Alfred had already folded down the sheets.
Bruce laid Danny down and started with the dress shoes, mostly to delay having to decide just how much clothing was appropriate to strip a near stranger of. After all, Danny didn’t know that he had slept curled up with the whole family once before. Bruce was also aware that he had less propriety than most people, given his unusual night life.
By the time the shoes were off and set aside, Bruce decided that the bare minimum would likely be most comfortable for Danny in the morning. The tie and belt went onto the seat of the nearby arm chair while the suit jacket was draped over the back. Danny’s phone was set on the nightstand. Alfred, of course, already had clothing set out for Danny to change into in the morning, should he wish. Bruce left it at that and covered Danny lightly with the sheets before he took his leave.
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Dead Man's Diner drabbles since I need to get back into writing it.
Robber, bursting through the door, gun already pulled out and shouting: EVERYBODY PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP AND OPEN UP YOUR WALLETS
The whole God damn Batfam just looking up from their respective places in the diner:..
Danny, behind the counter, tired as hell from basically taking over feeding them all: Take the fucking shot.
---
Nightwing, laying dramatically over the breakfast bar as Danny walks in, a rose between his teeth: Hi~ I need to place an order
Danny, woke up 15 minutes ago: It is to early for this (it's 7 pm)
Nightwing, watching as Dany just turns around and leaves the diner: Wait no.
---
Bart/Wally/Berry, finally done helping their respective Bat with Gotham Things ™️, stumbling upon the Diner:Sweet, no need to run back home on empty!
Danny, seeing the one that he has seen Clockwork scream about walk into his diner: shit I gotta make a call.
(15 Minutes later)
Bart/Wally/Berry crying into a massive plie of pancakes as Clockwork reads them yo filth.
---
Wes, grumbling as he is kicked out of the diner for the fifth time this week: God damn it Fenton! Stopping hiding your ghostly existence! The people demand the truth!
Bernard, there because Tim recommended it, trying and failing to hit taking him there for a date, head snapping over to Wes like a horror movie: I sense a conspiracy theory.
---
Cass, squating on a bar stool: *pouting face*
Danny, squinting at her: No.
Cass, looking up at him with the most hurt expression: *kicked puppy look*
Danny, feeling terrible:Okay! Okay I will get Cujo to come over! A-and I will throw in Ellie!
Cass, breaking unto a smile: and hot coco?
Danny, fully broken by her: Sure, why the hell not.
---
Tucker and Sam, finally coming into the diner: honestly? Not as bad as I thought it would be.
(A Bat getting chucked through the door, and Rouge following after)
Tucker:Holy...is he okay?
Sam: I take back what I said.
Danny, looking at the property damage:Nope...nope this is normal, Red Hood your tab just doubled.
Jason, fully concussed: Sure thing...babe...
---
Based on an idea I have for later on, Jason and Danny are in the middle stage between friends and Dating and Jason finally gets to meet the other two of the everlasting trio...
Sam, has a baseball bat in hand that is starting to sprout out branches: You hurt Danny and you'll end up dead again, and this time you won't have the hands to dig your way out.
Tucker, with sparks flashing in his eyes and a grin on his face, his PDA blinks with info that no civilian should have: Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, I know all about you, mess things up with Danny and your Pride and Prejudice Self insert fanfiction gets shared with your family, as well as your Wattpad and Tumblr accounts will be sent directly to the Justice Leauge.
Jason, crying a little bit:Danny your friends are terrifying.
Danny, walking out in a pink apron:Oh shit...ugh, Sam! Tucker! I told you dont do that!.
---
Vlad, being a creep to Danny: Oh little badger...truly looking forward to seeing you begging for your life once more
Jason, equidded with Fenton works guns: Anyway I started Blasting.
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itneverendshere · 2 days
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ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????
someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)
warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...
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The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.
Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.
“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.
Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.
“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.
Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.
Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.
And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.
Rafe.
Of course, he looked good.
God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 
He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.
He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.
You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.
You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 
His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.
“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.
“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”
Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.
The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did
Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.
You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 
“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.
You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.
You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—
Bang!
In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.
He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.
Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?
That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 
And you hated that you still kind of liked it.
Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."
Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.
You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.
He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.
The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 
Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.
When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.
You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.
But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.
You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.
After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?
The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.
But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.
"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"
You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.
The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.
And then he smirked.
It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.
“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.
You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.
Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.
The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.
When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.
“Ready to head out?” he asked.
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.
And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.
You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.
And then you saw him. Of course, you did.
Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.
You hated how your heart skipped.
Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.
"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.
You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”
As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.
"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"
You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."
But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."
Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.
Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."
Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.
"Plans, huh?"
Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?
“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”
He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”
You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.
“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.
He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.
You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”
“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”
But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 
“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.
Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.
“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.
He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 
“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.
You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.
Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.
He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 
“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 
“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”
“That was an accident.”
“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"
Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.
“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.
Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.
“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 
He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.
“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.
Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.
“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.
His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.
“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.
Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”
Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.
“Don’t—”
But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.
And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 
This was so wrong, on so many levels. 
You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.
Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”
You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.
Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.
“Oh, you will.”
And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.
You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.
His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.
His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.
You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.
But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.
When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.
Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.
There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.
"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.
You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.
“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.
But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.
“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.
Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."
His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.
You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.
How much you wanted him.
“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.
“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”
You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.
“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.
“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”
You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.
Always.
“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”
Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.
Maybe not for a while.
And Rafe knew it.
His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 
“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”
You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.
He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.
“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.
Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”
Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.
Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.
 You hated how much you needed this. 
“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.
You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”
Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.
You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.
His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"
Sonofabitch.
“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.
You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.
He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.
His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”
“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”
He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.
But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.
Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.
Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.
His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.
And you hated how good it felt.
“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 
He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”
You couldn’t.
The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.
“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.
“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.
The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 
“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.
Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”
You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.
You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.
Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.
“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.
He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.
You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”
“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”
"Like hell," you spat back.
He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.
 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”
Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.
The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.
His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”
He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”
You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.
“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.
“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”
And you did.
Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.
But he wasn’t done.
He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.
He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”
And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.
Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.
And God, you couldn’t.
His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.
“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”
You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.
His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.
“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”
You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”
You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.
“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.
His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”
And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.
Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.
The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 
What the fuck had you done?
You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.
“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.
He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”
You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”
Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.
He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.
“Good luck finding your date.”
Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.
You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.
He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”
His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”
You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”
His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.
“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”
Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 
Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.
But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.
He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 
He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”
You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.
“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”
Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”
It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.
Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.
“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.
His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."
"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."
Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.
“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”
"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.
It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.
Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 
That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.
But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”
“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”
He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.
But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.
"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."
You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”
His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"
"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."
You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.
Because you both knew he wouldn’t.
He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 
He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.
You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."
579 notes · View notes
girlygguk · 1 day
Text
crazy; jjk (m)
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summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.
pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader
rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst
genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship
word count 15.5k
content jk 29 | yn 26, very jealous controlling and possessive jk, same for oc, spirited & bratty oc, jk is rich and spoils his girl, pet names, toxic relo, jk is a red flag, oc is a red flag, they’re obsessed w each other, bonnie n clyde ride or die type shit, soft yandere, drama, mc arguments, cursing, they get angry quick and over it quicker, bar fighting, jk punches a guy.. or two, blood, oc is roughly grabbed on arm by a male w/o consent, canon couple
warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system, daddy kink, consensual degradation, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), cum eating, dirty talk, breeding kink, condomless p in v sex, oc has an IUD, multiple orgasms, creampie, kinda rough(?) sex but i think it ends quite softly, theyre dirty and in love!
a/n pls read all the warnings first & only proceed if ur comfortable!! these two are superr obsessively dependent and possessive so tread lightly baby 🙂‍↕️!! im kinda self conscious abt the smut but i like the fic part and i hope u do too <<3 lemme know if i missed any tags 🖤 mwah
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There was something dangerous about him. Something you couldn’t help but be drawn to, no matter how much you knew you shouldn’t. It was like playing with fire—intoxicating, thrilling… stupid.
You knew it complicated things, maybe even made life harder, but you never had been one to back down from a challenge. And when someone like Jeon Jungkook—the kind of man who looked like pure trouble but made you feel more alive than you ever had—walked into your life, resisting him was never even an option.
It hadn’t always been like this. You used to date Park Hyungwon, after all.
Hyungwon was perfectly fine. Kind, sweet, thoughtful in all the ways that made him a good guy. The type who held open doors and asked if you wanted to split dessert. You’d met him through his cousin, Jimin—your colleague and an absolute angel on Earth. In fact, you ended up closer to Jimin than you ever were with Hyungwon.
Because Hyungwon? He was just… ordinary.
There was nothing wrong with ordinary. Some people needed that. They craved stability, predictability. But you? You realized a long time ago that you needed more. You craved intensity. You needed to feel like someone’s whole world. And when your boyfriend didn’t care who you were with, what you were doing, when he didn’t even notice if you went days without texting… well, you started to feel invisible.
You knew it sounded twisted. That most people would see Hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. Healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. But that’s when you realized... you weren’t like most people.
And then he entered the picture.
Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Corp, son of the late Jeon Jun-seo.
You’d been at Jeon Corp for three years now, starting as a temp and moving into a more permanent role. Everyone knew him—the young, ruthless leader who took over seamlessly and ran things with an iron grip after his father's passing. People admired him, respected him. Feared him.
It had been two years since you made it official with the man you knew was the epic love of your life. Before that, you were friends with benefits for—what, a week? Maybe less. You both knew right from the start that there was no going back to being just colleagues or fuck-buddies. He consumed you, and you reveled in every second of it.
In the early days of your relationship, you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe your promotion had less to do with your work ethic and more to do with Jungkook lusting for you. It was hard not to question it, especially when he was your boss, and you knew exactly how intense his desire for you was. But Jungkook shut that shit down fast.
He had hundreds of employees under him, most of whom he hadn’t even had a proper conversation with. He’d approached you solely because of your performance—your results catching his attention long before he even knew what you looked like. Jimin had confirmed it.
Still, you loved teasing him about it—how he’d basically been eye-fucking you the entire time during your first real meeting. Jungkook never denied it. He would just give you that cheeky, devilish grin of his, reminding you just how that meeting had concluded—with you, bent right over his desk.
Now, sitting at Lumi’s bar with the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of glasses fading into background noise, your phone buzzed with a new message. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, heat spreading through your veins as you read his words.
My Love 10:43 PM Why is your location off? Sent with Siri
10:43 PM Turn it on. Now. Sent with Siri
You bit your lip, already imagining the storm brewing inside him. He was driving, and now probably wasn’t the best time to mess with him. But you were still pissed. And the brat in you couldn’t resist poking him just a little more.
You 10:47 PM i'm out, my love.
His reply was immediate, almost before you even hit send.
My Love 10:47 PM Not in the mood baby. Turn it on
You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you took another sip of your drink. You could picture him now, pulling the car over, typing furiously with that adorable, frustrated frown. Oh, he was pissed—but that only made it more fun. You let him stew for a few minutes longer.
You 10:52 PM bad day at work? :(
His next texts came in a flurry, and you could almost feel the heat in them.
My Love 10:52 PM Why the fuck are you taking so long to respond? Who are you with?
10:53 PM You didnt tell me you were going out tonight and I just went all the way to your fucking house to find out you’re not even there? And your car’s gone? You drove to go out??? Are you fucking crazy?
His jealousy stoked a fire inside you. You knew better than to test his patience... but you just couldn’t help yourself.
You pulled up your camera and hit record. It started with your legs—crossed elegantly on the stool, the hem of your little black dress riding up just enough to tease. You let your foot swing, the glossy polish on your toes catching the dim light. The clip was short, but you knew Jungkook would recognize the bar in an instant.
Then, you flipped the camera. Your face came into view, framed by a pout and the neckline of your dress—the replacement for the one he’d ripped clean off you the last time some idiot tried to touch you. Jungkook had beaten the guy to a pulp, of course, which was why you were both banned from JaeJae's nightclub downtown. But you hadn’t cared then, and you certainly didn’t now.
Just before you stopped recording, you made sure the camera caught a glimpse of the arm next to you—the arm belonging to the guy who had been sulking since you brushed off his lame advances. You had been ignoring him ever since you walked in, but apparently, he was as clueless as he was underwhelming.
You hadn’t expected to be at this bar alone. In fact, you were supposed to be home with Jungkook tonight. He’d promised an early finish—four o’clock, to be exact—and you’d planned a cute pamper night for the two of you. Face masks, cheesy rom-coms. You even baked cookies.
But then, three o’clock rolled around, and your phone rang. His voice on the other end was apologetic, practically rehearsed at this point. He had to stay late. Again. Not even just a little late—ten-fucking-thirty late. Two hours past his usual finishing time.
You were livid. He promised you tonight.
You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence before hanging up, ignoring the rapid flood of missed calls and texts as you angrily dumped the chocolate chip cookies in the trash.
You were so pissed you might’ve even made his assistant, Hoseok, cry when Jungkook sent him over to check on you. Poor guy. You’d apologize later. Maybe.
By the time 10:32 hit and your phone was still silent, that pit of anger in your stomach twisted into something much sharper. You pulled up the security cameras at his office—and, of course, the room was empty. His briefcase, his keys… all gone.
He had left work without even telling you.
He always texted you when he was leaving the office. You knew there wasn’t a chance in hell it was infidelity; that wasn’t even a possibility. Cheating wasn’t something either of you entertained. But the silence? The lack of communication? That cut.
Sure, you’d been ignoring his calls ever since he canceled on you… but you were allowed to be pissed right now. He? Was not.
When your doorbell camera alert went off at 10:42, right before you were about to check his location, you felt a mix of relief and annoyance rise in your chest. You pulled up the feed to see him standing there—frustrated, fist clenched around his phone, clearly ready for a confrontation.
But you weren’t home.
You were here, at this grimy, sticky bar. Waiting.
The guy next to you shifted in his seat again, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was still there, lingering, despite your obvious disinterest. But honestly, you were kind of glad he hadn’t left.
Because the response you got from Jungkook when you hit send on that video?
Absolutely fucking perfect.
My Love 10:55 PM I'll be there in five minutes.
10:56 PM And if there is anyone sitting next to you who doesn't have a cunt or the name Park Jimin, theyre fucking dead Y/N
10:56 PM And you’re fucking walking home
You suppressed a laugh as you wiped the sugary remnants of your drink from your lips, knowing better than anyone just how serious he was.
As much as you hated to admit it, you loved the way Jungkook loved you. His possessiveness didn’t bother you. In fact, it drove you wild. That definitely made you as much of a red flag as him. But did you care?
A few minutes passed as you took some selfies and uploaded them to your Instagram story, twirling the straw in your glass absentmindedly. Then you remembered the idiot next to you.
"Oh," you said, clearing your throat. He perked up immediately, pulling his beer away from his lips as he turned toward you, eyes lighting up in anticipation. Gross. "You might want to leave."
His smile faltered, confusion knitting his brow. "What?"
You blinked, tilting your head slightly as if he hadn’t just heard you. Leaning in closer, you repeated yourself. "I said, you might want to leave."
He chuckled, leaning in way too close, his breath hot and stale. “Why would I do that? Sitting next to a pretty thing like you? You look a little bored, baby… I can keep you entertained.”
You suppressed a gag. "Hard pass." You shuddered, pulling back. “But really, my boyfriend’s on his way, and he’s pissed. You might want to move down a seat or two.”
He just laughed, lifting his beer again and taking a long gulp, his eyes creepily never leaving yours. "I can handle myself just fine, sweetheart. It’s hot that you’re worried about me, though."
God. You’d never been drier in your entire life.
"Your funeral," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned back to your phone.
A few more minutes passed in silence, and just when you thought the idiot might’ve finally left you alone, you felt him shift again, turning toward you like he was about to start up another conversation. You sighed, not actually wanting to watch another guy get the shit beaten out of him. So, you grabbed your purse and your half-empty glass, ready to leave.
But just as you slid off the stool, his hand wrapped around your arm.
"Where are you going, baby?” His voice dripped with sleaze. “This playing hard-to-get thing was sexy at first, but now it’s getting kinda boring.”
Your stomach turned, and you yanked your arm from his grip, disgust curling your lip. "Eugh, could you be any more of a stereotypical douche? Get a fucking life."
You took a step to leave, but his hand clamped down on your arm again, harder this time.
“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” His voice dropped, and a sickening grin spread across his face as his fingers dug deeper into your skin. “That’s okay. I like ’em that way.”
Rage flared in your chest, hot and immediate. Without thinking, your hand swung forward, and the rest of your drink splashed across his smug face. His eyes widened in shock, the liquid dripping off his chin, but you weren’t finished.
Your free hand darted into the outer pocket of your purse, fingers wrapping around the pink pepper spray canister Jungkook bought for you. You whipped it out, aiming the nozzle directly at his face and pressed down hard.
“Fuck!” he screamed, stumbling back, hands flying to his eyes. But you didn’t let up. The adrenaline thrummed in your veins as you kept spraying, ignoring the yelps and curses spilling from his lips as he clawed at his burning face.
“You crazy fucking bitch! Stop!”
“God, you piece of shit!” you yelled, uncaring of the stares now fixed on you. “Don’t ever touch anyone when they don’t want you to! Fucking pig!”
The can felt significantly lighter by the time you finally stopped, and the guy was practically on his knees, whimpering. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the bartender waving security in your direction and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Typical. He’d been close enough to hear everything, but now he wanted to intervene?
“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, slamming your empty glass on the bar before turning to leave.
“I’m going, I’m going,” you scoffed as the guard approached, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and smoothing down the hem of your dress. As you turned to walk away, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over Jungkook’s contact.
But before you could make it far, a heavy hand pressed into your back, shoving you toward the exit.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you snapped, stumbling as the security guard forced you forward. “I said I’m leaving. I’m just calling my boyfriend. Let go of me, freak—”
“Ma’am, don’t speak to me like that,” the guard growled, his voice deep and commanding. “Get outside, now.”
“I'm going, you big loof. Can you at least let me wait in the bathroom? If my boyfriend sees me standing outside alone, he’s gonna—”
"I don’t care what he’s gonna do to you, ma’am. Keep moving."
You almost laughed. "Do to me?" You were about to tell him how wrong he had it—that he should be the one worried—when suddenly, the hand on your back vanished. You stopped, brushing yourself off, ready to turn and gloat.
But it wasn’t your words that made him let go. It was Jungkook.
Your very angry boyfriend had shoved the guard—who was easily twice his size—backwards so hard the guy stumbled, nearly falling over.
Jungkook’s eyes were wild, flicking between you and the security guard, a dangerous mix of concern and pure rage.
"Oh, hi, baby—"
“Get in the car,” he growled, his voice low and deadly as he handed you his keys. “And lock the fucking doors. Now.”
His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you bit back the urge to argue. Instead, you took the keys and turned toward the door, but the security guard wasn’t backing down.
"You and your bitch need to leave now," the guard snapped. "You’re banned from this bar."
Another one? You almost pouted, but he kept going.
"We have you on CCTV. If the victim presses charges, you’ll be contacted."
“What victim?” You laughed, taking a step toward the guy. “You’re gonna let that pig press charges?”
Jungkook’s head snapped toward you, jaw clenched, staying firmly between you and the goon. “What is he talking about? Who’s pressing charges?”
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you gestured toward the guy still rubbing his eyes with a bar towel, water dripping down his face. “That idiot. But it’s fine, baby. I finally got to use the pepper spray you gave me,” you added, poking Jungkook’s stomach with a giddy smile.
His lips twitched, but his expression stayed serious. “Why’d you have to use it?”
You shrugged, tilting your head, giving him that innocent look you knew drove him crazy. "He kept trying to touch me, but don’t worry, I handled it. Let’s go now, please."
But Jungkook’s gaze was already darkening, his eyes now fixed on the pathetic excuse of a man across the room. You could see the anger rising, feel the tension radiating off him, and you knew he was seconds away from losing his shit.
“Let’s just go, love,” you urged, voice rushing as you eyed the situation. “It’s over now.”
The security guard had disappeared to fetch backup, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The fact that he needed help dealing with Jungkook was almost laughable. Your man might not have been the biggest guy in the room, but you knew that shove must have rattled him, seeing as though the sidekick he'd now acquired was even bigger than he was.
And they were both stomping toward you.
You turned to warn Jungkook, “Baby—” but as your eyes shifted back to him, he was no longer at your side.
Your gaze snapped to the bar. There he was—storming up to the sleazebag still nursing his wet eyes with a towel, completely unaware that your furious boyfriend was closing in behind him. Ugh, he was like an angry, sexy bunny.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, pushing past a couple of people and hurrying over as quick as you could in your three-thousand-dollar stilettos.
As turned on as you were by the sight of him right now, you really didn’t need him missing work tomorrow because he'd been locked up for the night.
And then you, of course, also missing work because you had to sleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his cell, since the officers wouldn’t accept bail again until he had completed his twelve-hour minimum hold.
You were almost there when you saw it—Jungkook’s hand gripping the back of the guy’s collar, yanking him back with so much force that the idiot’s eyes flew open in shock, panic flooding his face as he realized what was happening.
You bit your lip, trying to shove away the image that popped into your head of Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you up in that exact same way when he had you beneath him, forcing your eyes on his as he drove into you from behind.
God, not now, Y/N.
“Koo, baby, wait—” you called, but it was too late. He was gone.
Before the guy could even think about pushing Jungkook off, your boyfriend slammed his head down onto the bar with a sickening crack that echoed through the room. You winced, feeling the pain in your own skull just by watching it.
“Fuckkkk,” you hissed, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm. His muscles were rigid, vibrating with barely controlled rage. “Baby, come on. Security is coming—let’s go—”
But your words didn’t register. Jungkook was in another world, eyes burning with an almost feral intensity as he jerked the guy back up.
Without hesitation, he reeled back and delivered a brutal punch to the guy’s face, the thud of knuckles against bone filled the space as the man’s head snapped to the side, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.
You sucked your teeth in frustration. You couldn’t care less if the guy sat there on the ground and bled out, truly. What you did care about was the thought of Jimin covering your shift tomorrow because you had to spend the night bailing Jungkook out of jail again.
“Okay, my love, that’s good. Now let’s go—”
“Baby, go and—” Jungkook growled, his voice dangerous and low, as he lifted the guy again. His fist swung forward, colliding with the man’s nose, and you winced at the sharp crunch that followed. The guy collapsed again, shaky hands cradling his face as blood spurted from his mouth.
Jungkook’s head whipped around, his dark gaze locking onto you with a ferocity that sent a chill down your spine. “Go and get in the fucking car,” he snapped.
“No, you fucking idiot, come with me—”
Before you could finish your sentence, your feet were suddenly off the ground, the world spinning as you were slung over a massive shoulder. It took you a second to process what the fuck was happening.
"What the fuck!" you screamed, pounding your fists against the back of the goliath security guard who was carrying you like a sack of potatoes. Your purse fell to the ground as the guy just kept walking toward the exit like you were nothing. "Put me down, you fucking freak!"
Through your distorted, lopsided vision, you caught sight of the other, even bigger, guard heading for Jungkook while you were being dragged away.
The second your boyfriend saw what was happening to you, the loser he had been beating on was forgotten. His eyes locked on the guard manhandling you, and fury ignited in his expression.
The guard approaching barely had time to take a step before Jungkook threw him to the ground like he weighed nothing. His unbuttoned dress shirt sleeves exposed the veins in his arms, rippling as he stormed toward you with a look that promised murder. Yummy.
You were still smacking the back of the giant guard carrying you, panic creeping in as the door got closer and closer. "Baby, my purse!" you whined, halting your attack for a second and pointing to the ground. Jungkook was already stalking past it. "Pick it up!"
He grunted in frustration, turning on his heel to grab the fallen Prada before charging back after you. 
The guard reached the door just as Jungkook caught up, and you braced yourself for the moment you’d be tossed out like trash. But in one quick motion, Jungkook grabbed your outstretched hand and used his other hand to grab you by the bum, pulling you off the guard’s shoulder.
You beamed as he set you back on your feet, happily taking your purse from him while he just rolled his eyes. Then, he turned and sent his fist straight to the giant’s jaw. The guard actually stumbled backward, clearly feeling the weight of the hit, and for a brief moment, you thought it was over.
But then the bastard straightened up, cracked his neck like a fucking terminator, and stepped forward again, completely unfazed.
"What. The. Fuck," you seethed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You grabbed Jungkook’s hand, tugging him back, but he was already mirroring the guard’s steps, ready to go again.
"Nope," you muttered, wrapping your arms around his bicep and using every ounce of strength to drag him toward the door.
You knew he could easily overpower you, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he debated it. But after a beat, he scoffed, shooting a final glare at the guard, who had stopped in place, phone in hand as he watched you haul Jungkook outside.
Probably calling the cops, taking down your registration—whatever the fuck. You could already imagine the panic on Jeon Co.’s PR team’s faces when they caught wind of this fuck fest of a night.
You finally let go of Jungkook’s arm when you got outside, your hand diving into your purse for his car keys. He followed close behind, silent but simmering with rage, as you both made your way to his car. It was parked right next to the entrance—definitely not in an actual spot—but he clearly didn’t care. He’d probably left it there to get to you faster.
As soon as the cold air hit your face and you and Jungkook were away from everyone, it’s like all your anger from earlier flooded right back.
You marched straight toward the driver’s seat, just wanting to get the hell out of there, but before you could reach for the door handle, Jungkook’s bruised hand snaked around your waist and pulled you back against him. He plucked the keys from your hand with ease, scoffing under his breath as he ushered you toward the passenger side.
"Give me the fucking keys, Jungkook—"
He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "First of all, you’ve been drinking. Don’t be fucking stupid. Second of all, why do you sound like you’re mad at me? I’m mad at you!"
"I had a fucking lemonade, I didn’t drink, you psycho!" you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. "And, I’m sorry, mad at me?" You shoved his hand off your stomach and made a grab for the keys, but he slipped them into his pocket, resting his hand right over them like he was daring you to try.
"You’re the one who just went ape-shit and beat half the bar to a fucking pulp!"
"Don’t be dramatic," he rolled his eyes, leaning casually against the car like he hadn’t just trashed multiple people inside.
"You just fucking—"
He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "And why am I here in the first place, Y/N?"
"Oh, I don’t know," you snapped back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe because you’re a—"
You cut yourself off this time, catching the slight arch of his brows—just a fraction.
His head tilted, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.
"I’m a what, baby?" His voice was low, amused, taunting.
You squinted at him, but he just waited, utterly patient, like he had all the time in the world.
"I’m a what?"
Your eyes rolled to the sky in frustration, and you turned your back on him, yanking on the door handle in frustration. But of course, it was locked. You didn’t even bother looking back at him.
"Open the door, Jungkook."
"Sure," he jingled the keys in his pocket with infuriating calmness, "When you finish your sentence. I’m a what?"
You glared over your shoulder at him, biting back a snarl as your eyes raked down his stupidly gorgeous frame. Tousled hair, the top two buttons of his dress shirt sluttily popped open, bruised and bloody hands casually tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks. So fucking annoying.
"You," you started, eyes narrowing as you stepped back. "Are sleeping alone tonight." You punctuated it with a sarcastic smile before pushing off the car and storming down the street toward your own.
The second you started walking, you heard his footsteps trailing after you like a shadow. You just shook your head, your tone clipped as you bit out, "Go home, Jungkook. Your home. I’m sleeping at my own place tonight."
"Mm, and how do you plan on getting there?" His voice followed, calm—too calm.
"Hmm, take a wild fucking guess, genius," you snapped, diving back into your purse to grab your keys. But your hand came up empty.
"Mother fucker," you hissed, spinning around to find yourself face-to-face with his broad chest. You took a breath, glaring up at him. "Give me my keys."
"When you finish what you were saying," he replied lowly.
You scoffed, incredulous. "You’ll give me my keys and let me drive home if I finish my sentence?" You almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well he was full of shit.
"No," he shrugged, his honesty almost infuriating, "but I still want you to say it."
You groaned, exasperated. "Why is it so important to you—"
"Everything you say is important to me." His tone was unflinchingly direct. "And I want to know what you think of me."
For a split second, your heart tugged at his words, even as the anger bubbling in your chest fought to take over.
You weren’t mad at him for going in there and smashing that dirty sleaze’s head into the counter. You weren’t mad that he had taken on the Goliath twins like a reckless maniac with no concern for his own well-being.
You were mad because he lied to you.
"A liar." The words slipped from your lips, quiet but cutting, your eyes locking with his.
The flicker of pain that flashed across his gaze was immediate. He hadn’t been expecting that. He had braced himself for you to call him a possessive jerk, a jealous asshole, even a fucking loser. But not that.
"Baby," Jungkook swallowed, his beaten hands slowly gliding down to caress the sides of the dress he both loved and hated seeing you in. "I’m so sorry."
"Yeah," you nodded, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away just as he tried to lean down for a kiss. "Always are, huh?"
"Please, don’t," he sighed softly, his breath warm against your neck as his nose nuzzled into your skin. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had buried his fist into a guy’s jaw just five minutes ago. “I would never leave your side if I didn’t have to. You know that. You have to know that.”
"And you just had to stay back tonight of all nights?" Your words were sharp, cutting. "Couldn’t get one of your two fucking assistants to carry some of the workload? Or maybe that slut from level 7 who’s always begging to take some stress off her ‘big, hunky, hardworking boss?’"
Jungkook let out a low chuckle, nipping at your neck in amusement when you imitated Heejin’s voice. She hadn’t ever said anything quite that bold—obviously. You would’ve had him fire her on the spot if she had. But her lingering glances, the way she was always offering herself up for extra tasks, the way she hovered around… yeah, her actions spoke louder than words, and it made your blood fucking boil.
"Our board meeting ran way overtime, and they sprung last-minute critical amendments on us for the Cypher Project, baby," he mumbled into your skin, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. "You know no one else could’ve handled it, or I would’ve been out of there."
"Okay." You nodded, lips pressing together as you let him kiss your neck for a while, but your mind was still racing.
"Okay?" he echoed in a hum, his mouth moving lower, pressing another soft kiss just above your collarbone. He sounded almost suspicious at how easily you seemed to be dropping the argument.
"Okay," you repeated, still letting him kiss you, your body slightly relaxing under his touch.
He hummed again, but then something clicked. No. This was too easy. You were never this quick to drop an argument. There wasn’t nearly enough groveling.
"Baby—"
Before he could finish, your hand shot into his left pocket, snatching the keys and shoving him you off with your other hand. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise as he barely caught his balance. You didn’t wait around to see him recover; you just turned and headed straight for your car.
Of course, he followed.
"Baby, come on—"
You didn’t stop, your pace quickening as you adjusted your handbag on your shoulder. "Nope. Don’t care."
"Baby, I'm fucking sorry."
"Uh-huh," you muttered, clicking the button to unlock your car before yanking the door open. He was right behind you, still trying.
“You’re not seriously leaving me right now, are you?”
You shot him a cold glance, leaning on the car door. “Yep. Maybe you should call Heejin—see if she’s free tonight. She can keep my side of the bed warm,” you spat, sliding into the driver’s seat.
His jaw ticked, tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he leaned back, letting you slam the door in his face. The engine roared to life, filling the thick silence between you two, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he nodded, something dark flashing in his eyes as his teeth toyed with his lip ring.
“You know I’m just gonna follow you, right?” His low voice carried through the glass, calm as ever.
You rolled your eyes, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the lot.
But you weren’t the least bit surprised when, just a few moments later, you caught sight of his car pulling out right behind you.
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He was home before you.
Not that you were surprised. You had gotten the doorbell alert two streets over, and it only made you scoff, your foot easing off the gas as you slowed down even more, wanting to make him wait. You had briefly considered going to Jimin’s for the night, but you knew better. Even though Jungkook had a soft spot for his assistant, there was no way in hell he’d let you sleep over at another guy’s house, and you weren't about to drag Jimin into that.
Sliding out of your car, you said nothing, grabbing your coat and purse from the passenger seat before locking it. Jungkook was already perched on your front doorstep, his head snapping up the second your tires crunched against the driveway.
“Baby, I need you to turn your location back on. I get it. You made your point—”
“Don’t start, Jungkook.” You sighed, your heels clicking against the stone steps as you brushed past him to unlock the front door.
You didn’t even bother closing the door behind you as you walked in, knowing he was right behind, the sound of it clicking shut as he locked it for you. Your purse and coat landed carelessly on the hallway table, and your fingers instinctively massaged the soreness creeping up the side of your neck. Without a word, Jungkook crouched down and slipped off your heels, lining them up neatly next to his shoes.
It was late, and the exhaustion that had been chasing you all night was finally sinking in. Your body ached, your mind was running on fumes, and all you really wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep. But something in the air told you that wasn’t happening any time soon. Whether it would be another argument, angry makeup sex, or another night of kicking Jungkook to the couch—only to lie sleepless for an hour before dragging his ass back to your bed—you weren’t sure yet.
Your steps were slow as you made your way to the bathroom, flicking the light on before leaning heavily against the sink. You cracked your neck, your eyes closing for a brief moment as the exhaustion took over.
You didn’t even flinch when Jungkook’s chest pressed against your back, his strong arms slipping around you as he reached for the faucet to wash his hands. The water ran pinkish, swirling down the drain as it cleared the blood and dirt from his knuckles, but you weren’t concerned. He knew how to throw a punch safely—years of boxing and training made sure of that. This was very mild compared to the damage he’d done in the early days of your relationship. Back then, you’d spent more time getting him unbanned from clubs than actually enjoying them.
He dried his hands slowly, taking his time before reaching for one of your hair ties on the counter. His fingers worked through your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail.
You were far too drained to even consider pushing him away—not that you would’ve, even if you weren’t. Upset? Sure. But truly mad? Not really.
You knew exactly what you were getting into when you fell for a wildly successful, young CEO. Long nights, last-minute cancellations, missed plans—it was the nature of his world. Normally, you accepted it. But tonight had been different. Tonight was supposed to be one of the rare, precious evenings you finally had time to spend together after months of clashing schedules. You’d planned for it, gotten excited about it, and then… it was ruined. So, yeah, you were pissed.
But at the same time, you understood. The Cypher Project was monumental for Jeon Corp. Jungkook had poured nearly a year of blood, sweat, and no sleep into it. It was his baby, and only a handful of people were allowed anywhere near it—his assistants, his CCO, and you. This project mattered. But god, you missed him.
This, though? This was just typical Jeon Jungkook groveling. He’d pamper you, apologize at least a thousand times, buy you another bag or three, and then fuck you until you couldn’t remember why you were mad in the first place. The order of events varied; the bags sometimes took a day or two to arrive.
Once your hair was up, he gently spun you around and lifted you onto the bathroom counter. Your eyes remained shut as he moved between your legs, his long arms reaching for your skincare products. You didn’t have to tell him anything—he knew your routine better than you did at this point.
Before he got started, you cracked one eye open, just for a moment, grabbing his right hand and holding it softly in your lap. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, following the tiny splits. One was still bleeding slightly, while the other looked like it would be bruising by morning.
“Getting better, baby. Barely any blood this time,” you hummed, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before closing your eyes again, waiting.
He smiled at that, though you couldn’t see it. The weight of the towel settled on your lap, and his hand left yours, resting lightly on your chest as he leaned you down, cupping warm water from the sink to wet your face. You stayed still, letting him move through the motions, only shifting when he needed you to. His touch was precise but gentle as he massaged the cleanser into your skin.
Your toes wiggled absentmindedly on either side of his thighs, tapping softly against him while he moved through your products, handling each one with practiced ease.
Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke.
"I want to move in with you."
You didn’t open your eyes—mostly because your face was covered in toner—but the way your feet stopped swinging and your eyebrows shot up said everything.
“Well, that’s one way to grovel,” you muttered under your breath, leaning down blindly to rinse your face. Jungkook cupped his hand, helping you wash off the spots you missed before gently wiping your face dry with the towel. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips through the fabric.
Cute, you thought.
“Gross,” you mumbled, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.
He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands down your bare legs, wrapping them securely around his waist. You tugged the towel down and blinked up at his pretty face. He just stood there, quiet, watching you. Waiting.
"Are you waiting for something?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He bit his lip, barely concealing a smile. “Hmm. Is that how you’re going to be?”
“I don’t know what you mean…”
“So your answer is no, then.” He hummed.
“My answer is nothing because you didn’t ask me a question,” you retorted, brattily swatting his bum with your foot, the light tap making him smirk.
“It’s going to happen eventually,” he said, his tone certain, almost mocking, as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours. His hand caught your ankle, stopping your wandering toe from getting too close to the no-go zone. Well, except that one ti—
“May as well get it out of the way, baby.”
“Oh,” you laughed, amusement coloring your voice as you unwrapped your legs from his waist, resting them on the counter. “Glad you consider the next step in our relationship something we should just get out of the way.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pulled your legs back down, positioning himself firmly between them again, his hands settling possessively on your thighs. “You know what I mean,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a low growl.
“You already know I’d do anything with you, baby,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as your feet lifted back up to drum lightly against his bum. “But I’m annoyed that you asked me this right after an argument. You’re just doing what you think will make me happy—”
The cold, metallic sensation on your thigh interrupted your sentence. Frowning, you glanced down to see his tattooed hand resting on your skin, something small and cool pressed beneath his palm.
Your brows furrowed. “Move your hand, Kookie.”
He didn’t move, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were serious—more serious than you’d seen in a long while. And that was saying something. Jungkook was always confident, always certain about your relationship, but this… this was different.
“Y/N,” he said softly, his tongue flicking at his lip ring.
“Yes?” you asked, your voice softening as your finger reached up to gently swat his tongue away before you adjusted his lip ring back into place.
“You know how much I love you, right? Like, really know how in love with you I am?” His voice was so genuine, his eyes searching yours intently.
Your head tilted slightly as you swallowed the urge to tease him. The feeling of that little cool object under his palm had your mind racing. You already knew exactly what it was, and if you’d been wearing underwear right now, they’d be fucking soaked.
“I do,” you nodded just as seriously, your hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs as you leaned forward, waiting for his pouty lips to meet yours. He didn’t make you wait long, leaning down immediately, humming as you gently suckled on his tongue and over his lip ring before pulling back.
“I know, baby. I feel it every day." You spoke against his lips, giving them a soft peck before pulling back a little, "I’m so lucky to have you all to myself. I love you just as much, my darling. I hope you know that.”
“I do, baby.” He nodded, leaning down to brush his pretty nose against yours. “You’re it for me, angel. There’s no one after you. That, I know.”
“Mmh,” you grunted in delight, your nose scrunching as your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips, hard.
Jungkook melted into you instantly, his hands finding their way up your body as he kissed you with the kind of need that made your entire body hum. His fingers curled into the back of your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and you moaned softly against his mouth, just as his hands moved lower.
“Oh my god,” you mumbled, breaking the kiss suddenly as your eyes dropped to the now-uncovered little piece of metal resting on your thigh.
Tears welled up in your eyes the moment you saw it. Your hand darted down, snatching up the now-warm key like it was made of glass, your fingers trembling as you inspected it. This wasn’t a key to his penthouse—you already had one of those.
This was new. Bigger. And turning you the fuck on.
Jungkook's bunny teeth grazed his lip ring, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he watched you silently. Jeon Jungkook didn’t get nervous. He was rich, successful, gorgeous, and had the hottest girl he had ever seen in his life all to himself. But even he couldn’t deny that his heart was beating a little fast, or whatever.
“Baby, fuck," you choked out, your brows furrowing as the tears threatened to spill over. You looked up at him, still clutching the key. "You fucking... ugh!"
Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt, yanking him back down to you. You kissed him again, deep and needy, your lips crashing against his with a desperation you couldn’t quite name.
"Love me that much, hm?" you mumbled between kisses, your voice husky, body arching into him as his tattooed hands slid down your sides, long fingers squeezing around the soft flesh. "Bought me a fucking house, huh, baby?"
Jungkook’s smirk brushed against your lips, so cocky, so him. “Well, I’m not fucking renting it.”
A loud laugh bubbled out of you, muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. It was cut short when his tongue slipped past your parted lips, hot and familiar, moving with practiced ease.
His tongue... fuck, with the number of times and places you’d had it in your body, you were sure you could pick it out from a lineup blindfolded. Skilled, wet, with that lingering touch of cigarette. Fucking perfect.
You grunted against his mouth, your hand blindly reaching to set the key on the counter without pulling away. “Told you to stop smoking.”
“Told you to get fucked,” he hummed back, his words vibrating on your tongue as his hands slid from your hips to your ass, gripping hard enough to make you gasp before pulling you flush against his growing bulge.
“Cunt,” you giggled, your fingers tangling around the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper, your tongue chasing that smoky flavor as heat pulsed between your legs. The softest whine escaped your lips as you swallowed his taste.
“Bitch,” he mumbled lowly, tattooed fingers giving a dirty squeeze to your ass, brows furrowing in delight as his hips ground into yours, the thick, hard length of him pressing between your thighs. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction sent a needy throb straight to your clit.
Your nails scratched lightly against the nape of his neck, and just as you were about to bite down on his tongue, he suddenly pulled back, leaving your lips parted in a confused pout.
“What?” you whined, trying to tug him back down to your mouth, but he wasn’t budging. His eyes were locked in place.
On your crotch.
Oh.
“Y/N.” His voice dropped, deeper, more dangerous.
“Yes, my love?” you blinked innocently, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move.
“Are you not wearing fucking panties?”
“Um,” you pursed your lips, pretending to think. “Would you believe me if I said I was?”
Your boyfriend scoffed sorely, giving a bitter nod before peeling himself from you completely and walking out of the bathroom.
You sat there for a second, blinking, frowning at the sight of him walking away, watching how the thick muscles in his back rippled beneath his shirt. God, you just wanted to run your tongue over every inch of that perfect, sinful skin, remembering all the times you had gotten off just by riding that big fucking back—
Shit.
“Baby!” you called after him with a pout, hopping off the counter and ignoring the sticky feeling between your thighs as your feet hit the floor. You wobbled slightly, legs stiff from sitting too long. With a quick kiss to the key resting beside the sink, you dropped it into your jewelry case and scurried after your angry boyfriend.
“Kookie, hold on…” The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway, needy and impatient.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were really pissed when he canceled, okay, and so you did the one thing you knew would get under his skin... going commando in public when he wasn’t around.
You fully expected him to find out at the bar or during some angry foreplay at home. Then, he’d get all sexy, possessive, and you’d end up screaming his name so loud your neighbors would complain again.
But not like this. Not after he’d been so gentle, taking your makeup off with soft, careful touches. Not after he’d just given you the key to the fucking house he bought for the two of you! He was probably feeling all soft and vulnerable, having just taken such a big step in your relationship...
You know, people didn’t really get it—but deep down, your boyfriend was just a big, cuddly teddy bear. Sure, a teddy bear with like three assault charges, but that’s besides the point.
God. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Jungkook didn’t stop. He rounded the corner into your bedroom, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched.
You followed him in, flicking on the light just in time to see him unbuttoning his shirt, quietly tugging it free from where it had been tucked into his slacks. His back was to you, standing near your vanity, jaw tight with restraint, anger radiating off him in waves.
The muscles in his broad shoulders flexed as you stepped closer, your palms sliding up the expanse of his back.
"Baby, I'm—"
"Don't." His voice was low, firm—a quiet command cutting off any apology on the tip of your tongue. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it over the chair beside him before his hand moved to his belt, the metallic clink sounding sharper in the silence of the room.
You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his warm, bare shoulder, the skin still taut with tension. Your forehead rested against his back as your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. “Are you mad at me?”
"Mhm." He scoffed, pulling his belt through the loops and throwing it onto the growing pile of clothes.
Without a word, he shrugged off your hold, his back stiff as he walked over to your dresser. Opening the middle drawer, he pulled out one of his shirts, and without even looking back at you, he held it out.
You didn’t hesitate, taking it from his hand. He didn’t need to say anything—Jungkook never wore shirts to bed. Your fingers slipped behind your back, tugging down the zipper of your dress before you let the fabric fall in a pool at your feet.
His eyes caught your movement in the mirror, and he scoffed softly, watching as you unclasped your bra. The bra slipped down, the absence of panties now glaringly obvious. His expression tightened as you slid his shirt over your head, the oversized fabric falling to mid-thigh.
Jungkook unbuttoned his slacks in silence, shoving them off until he stood in just his briefs. He bent down, gathering both of your discarded clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to toss them into the hamper.
You heard the water running as you pulled the band from your hair and padded toward the bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth too. But before you could enter, he stepped out, his tall frame blocking the doorway.
"Get in bed," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.
You pouted but turned around, dragging your feet toward the bed. From the way he flicked off the light behind you, it was clear you weren’t getting dicked down tonight. Jungkook always kept the lights on when he was fucking you—he liked to see everything properly. You frowned as you crawled under the covers.
"My love," you started softly, watching his back as he climbed into bed, turning to face the window. He didn’t respond. "Baby, please—"
"I’m so fucking angry," he finally spoke, his voice low, thick with frustration. Your hand raked over the tattoos covering his tense arm as you scooted closer, your fingertips tracing the ink in the way you always did to calm him down.
"Turn around and go to sleep," he grumbled, laced with warning.
"Can’t sleep when you’re mad at me. You know that," you whined softly, shuffling closer until you were pressed against his back, your leg draping over his waist, pulling yourself into his space.
He tensed under your touch but didn’t push you away.
You nuzzled into him, your cheek resting on his shoulder, hand tracing gentle patterns along his side. "Talk to me, baby," you whispered, your voice soft, pleading. "Please."
"You knew it would piss me off. I don’t know why you’re surprised—"
"Yeah, but I thought it would be like sexy, possessive, fuck me into the mattress mad…" Your words were muffled as your lips brushed against the warmth of his back, speaking directly into his skin. “I didn’t expect you to ask me to move in with you, baby—”
"So, if I didn’t," he interrupted, tugging the blanket over his shoulder, brushing you off in the process. "You wouldn’t be sorry at all?"
You frowned, pulling the blanket back down and reclaiming your spot, pressing yourself against him again.
“Not really,” you admitted, lips finding the little heart tattoo on his shoulder blade that he’d let you needle into him. You pressed a gentle kiss to it, your voice softening into a playful coo. “Was really mad at you. But then you were all stupidly cute and you bought us a fucking houseee, baby.”
Your fingers curled around his bare side, your kisses turning into quick, playful pecks across the tattoo. "And now I am very..." You pressed another kiss to his skin, “sorry.” Kiss. “My love.” Kiss.
He shifted slightly, his body tense but responsive to your touch. You knew you were getting to him, your lips soft against his inked skin, your tone low and slow. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop you, not entirely immune to the way your kisses trailed over his back, or the way your fingers skimmed down his side.
“You think you can just kiss me and make it better?” His voice was still low, but there was something softer creeping into it, the edges of his anger starting to blur under your touch.
You gazed affectionately at your softie's back, a smile playing on your lips as you rubbed your nose over the tattoo. “Maybe,” you hummed. “But I can do a little more than kiss you, if that's not enough…” you whispered, your hand trailing lower, brushing just above the waistband of his briefs.
He let out a small, frustrated sigh, but his body betrayed him—muscles relaxing slightly under your touch.
“Brat,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his position to lie on his back, allowing the blanket to slide down his body and reveal his broad, toned chest.
A soft, approving grunt left your lips as you shamelessly drank in the view, your eyes lingering on your favorite tattoo, scribbled prettily across his chest.
You’ve always been vocal about your love for Jungkook’s tattoos—they’re one of your favorite things about him. Some hold more meaning than others, but they're all breathtakingly beautiful. Honestly, with the number of times your nails have raked down his skin while he takes you like an untamed force, you’d think the ink would’ve rubbed off by now.
But your favorite? The tattoo nestled right below his left, perfectly pink nipple.
Your name.
You’ve never been one for tattoos on yourself, and you know people have all sorts of opinions about getting your partner’s name etched into your skin—a curse, they say. But when Jungkook told you, not asked, told you that he was going to get your name tattooed on him, you'd never dropped to your knees so fast in your life.
You were both lounging lazily on his couch, enjoying one of those rare days off, when he told you the news. The next twelve hours were spent on his lap, with the couch left in a state that required professional cleaning. Jungkook was very upset when you had it cleaned while he was at work, but you made it up to him.
By telling him you wanted one too.
You could already picture your sweet Christian mother rolling in her grave at the thought of you getting a tattoo, let alone your boyfriend’s name—the same boyfriend who’s done things to you no amount of repentance could ever erase. But it’s okay. You planned to get it in a place she wouldn’t see, wherever she’s watching from.
When you told Jungkook about your plan to get matching ink, it led to the second most tender and passionate sex you’d ever had—the first being the day you both said “I love you” for the first time. He's a sap like that.
You were supposed to get "Jungkook" etched onto your inner thigh, but the moment the needle touched your skin, you knew there was no way in hell you were sitting through all eight letters. So, you settled for "JK." Still adorable, and you loved it. So did he.
He’s obsessed with it, sometimes spending hours suckling on the ink. He’ll fall asleep with his head in your lap, the tattooed skin nestled in his mouth like a pacifier. His hand gravitates there when you're out to dinner with friends, resting directly on the spot if you're wearing a skirt, over your jeans if you're not.
Jungkook, of course, got your entire first name and let you pick where it would go. He only had one condition: it had to be on the front of his body—somewhere on his chest or maybe his thigh. When you asked why, he simply said he wasn’t getting any other tattoos there. That space was only for you.
You immediately picked the spot under your favorite nipple of his, and rode him into the sunset right after.
Angel isn’t a word most people—well, any people—would use to describe Jeon Jungkook. But for you, it’s that simple.
He’s your angel. Your short-tempered, jealous, possessive, fiery-fisted angel. For forever and then some.
Despite your boyfriend's irritated expression, you could sense the familiar heat building up in him, causing his eyes to darken and his teeth to tug on his lip rings unconsciously. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.
God, you were down so bad.
A sly grin tugged at your lips as you shifted, sliding your leg over his waist to straddle him, your bare heat pressing flush against the hard bulge straining beneath his briefs. A soft, satisfied hum escaped your throat as you leaned down, letting your lips graze along the sharp line of his jaw.
“Thought you liked your bitches bratty,” you murmured, the words brushing against his lip rings. You kissed your way slowly, deliberately down his neck. “Heard Heejin can get real mouthy.”
“Hm, she’s not usually that bad around me,” he said, his tone casual, almost playful. His tattooed fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing lazily along your sides. “Then again, her mouth is usually otherwise occupied.”
Your lips froze mid-kiss against his neck, the heat in the room shifting as a bubbling wave of jealousy swirled low in your stomach. You knew he was only matching your teasing with his own, but it didn’t stop the image from forming—Heejin, beneath you, as you straddled her in this exact position. Only this time, you weren’t smirking. This time, your hands gripped a pillow, pressing it down firmly until her frantic kicks finally stilled.
You recovered quickly, trailing your kisses lower down his chest. “Yeah?” you bit, voice tight as you continued kissing along his skin. “She suck your cock just the way you like it, baby?”
Jungkook swallowed a shiver as you slid down his body, your mouth hovering over his chest. The tension between you thickened as your teeth grazed his nipple, your tongue darting out just enough to tease.
“Yeah,” he answered, voice strained as he felt your hot breath fan over him. “She’s real sloppy with it. Bit surprising, considering she acts like a fucking church girl in the office—”
You waited until his nipple hardened from the sensation of your breath before biting down, hard, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin.
His reaction was instant—a sharp hiss slipping through his clenched teeth as his fingers dug into your sides on instinct, gripping you hard enough to leave marks.
His hips jerked up against you, the friction sending a spark through your core as he tried to suppress the groan building in his throat at your obvious stake to claim. His restraint was fading, and you couldn't fucking wait.
You followed up with a soft lick, soothing the now-red nub before lowering your mouth to press a wet, possessive kiss over your tattoo on his chest.
“Sorry,” you mumbled insincerely, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.
Jungkook’s gaze was fiery, narrowed as he looked up at you, but you could see the way his breath quickened, his stomach contracting deliciously beneath your bare heat that he was affected.
The grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down harder as he let out a low warning. "Careful, baby."
You smiled small, dragging your nails lightly over his abdomen as you trailed back up his body. “Sorry, baby. Hyungwon used to love it when I did that—"
You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Jungkook was flipping you onto your back, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The look in his eyes was dark, jaw clenched tight as he loomed over you.
If there was one thing that drove Jungkook over the edge, it was when you mentioned your ex.
"Think you're so funny, hm?" His voice dropped low, a dangerous edge creeping in as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as it scanned your face. You could feel the shift—he was serious now.
You pouted up at him, a small smile still playing on your lips. “Just being honest, love. Hyungwon’s left nipple was really sensitive—”
A deep scoff reverberated from Jungkook’s chest, his fingers tightening their hold just enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as his jaw clenched.
"If you ever comp—" he stopped abruptly, his breath unsteady, voice shaking with barely-contained rage at being compared to the guy he’d nearly put into a coma the last time he laid eyes on him. His jaw clenched, tongue sliding over the inside of his cheek as he glared down at you. "Say his name again, Y/N. I fucking dare you."
You don't know why you did it.
Maybe you lacked survival instincts. Or maybe it was because you were wetter than the fucking Atlantic.
Oh well. Too late now.
"Hyungw—"
You barely got through the first syllable before you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressed into the mattress, the sudden force of the movement knocking the air from your lungs.
A grunt escaped your lips, your head tilting just enough to catch your breath. You could barely contain the smile threatening to spread across your face, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as a thrill of excitement raced through your veins.
Fucking finally.
Jungkook’s weight vanished from the bed, and though every nerve in your body screamed at you to move, you knew better. You had been here before, too many times to count. Sitting up to look at him would earn you more than just punishment—it would leave you edged and begging for release until you were a writhing, pathetic mess. Normally, you’d relish every second of that torture, but right now you were too fucking soaked and too fucking needy to drag this out any longer. You haven't had his cock inside you since before he left your place for work this morning.
And that was like… seventeen fucking hours ago!
Your body thrummed with anticipation, the ache between your thighs pulsing as you stayed perfectly still, hands flat at your sides. You nuzzled deeper into the pillow with a pleased hum, toes wiggling in eager impatience.
Then came the sound you were waiting for.
He was back behind you, the loud click of the belt buckle confirming it. "'M getting too soft on you, baby." His voice was low, dark.
The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you felt the cold brush of the belt against your bare thighs, the sensation jolting straight to your core.
You bit down harder on your lip, resisting the urge to respond. You knew that would only make it worse. And better.
"Let you ignore my texts," he hummed, the belt dragging slowly up the curve of your legs, making you squirm involuntarily under his touch.
"Let you walk around with no fucking panties," he growled, his hands pulling up the hem of his shirt so your body was fully exposed to him. You immediately gripped the fabric, holding it tight so it stayed in place, eager to feel the weight of his eyes on your bare skin.
"Bought you a fucking house."
He rested the belt on your waist, a promise of what was to come, then his fingers trailed lower, sliding exactly where you wanted them. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks just enough to let you feel the warm brush of his fingers against your slick heat.
"This what you wanted, baby?" His voice was a low, mocking drawl, dripping with condescension. "You want me to fuck you like the needy little slut you are?"
A helpless whimper escaped your lips, your thighs parting instinctively at his words, betraying the desperation that throbbed through every inch of your body.
It was fucked, really—how easily he could lead you into this hazy, trance-like state with just a few words. In everyday life, you were lippy, hot-headed, the kind of person who would never let anyone walk all over you without a fight.
But with Jungkook? When he controlled you, when he degraded you, it never left you feeling small, not like other inferior men from your past who only managed to make you feel amused or bored.
With Jungkook, it was different. The way he commanded you, as twisted as it was, it made you feel seen. Wanted. Like you were exactly where you needed to be—in his hands, under his control. All you desired was to surrender completely, to let him take and take until there was nothing left.
Maybe you were biased, considering you loved the man currently smirking wickedly above you with every fiber of your being, but who cared? He owned you, and god, did you love every second of it.
Jungkook hummed, his fingers sliding through your wetness, gathering it slowly. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "So wet just from running that fucking mouth of yours, huh?"
Your breath hitched, every nerve firing as he lifted a hand to press lightly on the buckle resting on your back, the pressure sending a delicious ache radiating through you. You could already imagine the sting it would leave, the thought alone making you drip.
Then, his hand trailed back down your side, leaving the belt untouched and useless on your back. You bit back a disappointed grunt.
"All leaky and achy just from imagining Heejin-ah with my cock in her mouth, baby?" His taunt was biting, and you couldn’t stop the irritated noise that bubbled from your throat. He deliberately added the friendly honorific to get a rise out of you. And it worked.
"Oh?" Jungkook's laughter was filled with malice as he lightly traced his thumb over your folds for the briefest of seconds, not enough to satisfy, not even close.
"You don’t like it when I talk about other girls having me like you have me, huh? Not so fun is it, baby?"
His thumb brushed against your clit, fleeting, fast, gone before you could even register the sensation. Your hips bucked, chasing after the contact you craved, but he was already pulling away.
"Funny that," he mused before his tone turned menacingly low. "Because you sure as hell like talking about that boring fucking cuck a bit too much for my liking."
With the last remnants of your composure, you opened your mouth, ready to fire back one last bratty comment. Maybe the lord was on your side, though, because before you could get a word out, Jungkook cut you off.
"Color."
The retort died on your tongue, and before you even processed it, the response was out.
"Bright fucking green."
Jungkook’s mouth came down hot and harsh, his evil tongue licking a fat stripe right down your soaking slit. He took one of your ass cheeks in each hand, parting them effortlessly. You felt more than heard the deep inhale and exhale over your cunt as he dipped his nose into it like a dog would do to their water bowl on a hot fucking day.
Your breathing turned erratic, and your hands curled into fists to stop yourself from grabbing his head and forcing him deeper into your pussy. The way his tongue moved so deliberately, so lazily, only heightened the tension coiling tight in your core. When he had his fill of dragging his nose up and down your slit, his mouth latched onto your clit, slurping it up like it was his last fucking meal.
Your back arched, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your fingers clawed at your sheets, trying to clutch onto any last thread of sanity. The grip on your ass tightened, keeping you wide open as he went at you with a brutal pace. Your thighs trembled around his head, your hole fluttering at the pleasure he was delivering to your clit. He was relentless, taking out all his anger and frustration on your poor little pussy.
Your cunt couldn’t keep up with him. It was dripping, soaking your boyfriend's face faster than he could lap it up, coating his chin and dripping down to the sheets beneath you. He groaned into your pussy, a low, dirty sound that vibrated right through your core.
"Ah! Fuck baby," you sobbed, burying your face further into the mattress. "Ngh-fuckkk!"
He didn't stop, tongue noisily sucking and flicking at your clit. Then his hand lifted and came down hard on your right ass cheek, the sharp slap sending a jolt straight through you. It ripped a moan from your throat and you forced yourself not to ask for another one.
"Not my name right now," he pulled back enough to scoff.
Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hands were already on you, shifting your body until you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, your weight settled into doggy position.
He let out a low hum in approval before wasting no time and burying his mouth back into your heat, tongue sliding up and down viciously through your sopping folds.
“Ah-uhhh! Yes, daddy, oh my godddd,” you cried out, your eyes rolling back, hips bucking as his nose pressed deeper into your pussy.
He moaned into you, the vibration rippling through you as his tongue trailed slowly toward the entrance of your weepy hole.
Your evil fucking boyfriend hovered there for a moment, pretending to tease the tight muscle before his lips gave a big, harsh suck. The sound echoed in your ears as he slurped up as much of your slick as he could, coating his tongue before shoving it right into your clenching hole.
“Ah!” Your scream tore raw from your throat, your nails digging sorely into the mattress. His free hand slid up your body, four fingers pressing into the top of your ass cheeks, gripping you with possessive strength, while his thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing it in big, messy circles.
"Daddy -ah! Oh my fuckkk yes, eat your fucking pussy daddy, goddd."
Jungkook groaned lowly into you, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in the taste of the sweetest pussy he's ever had and will ever have in his life. He was manic as he drank from it, slurped at it, rubbed it all over his dirty fucking face. The wet sounds of his tongue pistoning into your hole, his finger sliding over your soppy clit, your fucked-out whimpers while you screamed for your Daddy.
Music to his fucking ears.
Your legs shook, elbows digging into the mattress as you forced yourself to keep form. If it weren't for your boyfriend's firm hand pressed against your stomach, holding you up, you both know you'd be face down on the mattress again.
Jungkook felt the tension in your belly beneath his palm and he knew you were getting close. He let you writhe for a few more seconds before slowing his movements, slipping his tongue from your hole and pressing a kiss to the pretty, puffed outer lips. He gave a wet suckle to your pebbled clit on his way out and finally pulled back with a loud smacking sound.
As much as the whiny cry you let out when he pulled away made his already aching cock throb harder in his briefs, he needed both hands for what he was about to do to you. And you knew it.
His bunny teeth poked out to graze against your inner left thigh, pussy-coated lips puckering to press a soft kiss over the ink that bore his name. Then, his hand pulled back and landed a quick smack on your right thigh, the light sting spreading instantly across your skin.
You understood immediately, a strained groan slipping from your lips as you rolled onto your back, head sinking into the pillow.
The belt buckle had been digging into your skin, so you quickly pulled it from beneath you, tossing it beside you on the bed. Your feet pressed into the mattress, knees bending as your legs spread open once more, leaving your glistening pussy on full display—just the way he taught you.
"Mm," Jungkook hummed approvingly, his eyes raking over your body with that look of dark satisfaction. His hand drifted to his cock, now uncomfortably hard, and gave it a rough palm through the fabric.
When his gaze paused at your chest, where his shirt had slipped back down to cover your breasts, you knew what to do. 
But you didn't want to take it off… it was your favorite.
Instead, you tugged the fabric higher, pulling it up over your tits, shuddering as the material grazed over your sensitive nipples. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you bit down lightly on the hem, holding it in place between your teeth.
Jungkook let out a low, dirty groan, his fingers trailing up your thighs, giving the soft flesh a possessive squeeze. "Good girl, baby."
"Thank you, daddy," you keened at the praise, though your response came out muffled with the shirt wedged between your teeth.
You gave a little impatient wiggle of your hips, feeling the mixture of slick and saliva begin to drip out of your pussy the longer it was left unattended.
Jungkook's eyes hooded at the sight, watching as a glob of his spit dripped down from your pussy and disappeared right between your crack. He swallowed hard, hands itching to spread the fat cheeks and watch the liquid pool around your tight, puckered hole. He'd grab your phone and make you bring up Park Hyungwon's contact, force you to Facetime the pathetic fuck, and make him watch as he let more of his spit trail from his mouth right over your greedy ass. Then he'd use his big tongue to shove it deeper and deeper into your winking little hole .
Of course, the Hyungwon part was purely theoretical because you no longer had his number or any contact with that cunt anymore. Jungkook saw to that three days into your relationship. But the other parts—
"Daddy?"
His gaze slowly drifted up to your pretty face when your muffled voice broke him from his thoughts. "Yes, my baby?"
"Wha's da bel' for?" you mumbled, your speech slurred by the fabric of his shirt still caught between your teeth.
Jungkook’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip, eyes darkening at the sight of you struggling to speak, and he wasn’t surprised when his cock twitched in response, pressing harder against his stomach.
He glanced at the belt lying next to you. “Was gonna punish you, angel,” he admitted softly.
His hand trailed down, freeing his throbbing shaft from its restraints and kicking the briefs aside. The (non-sexual related) clean freak in him made a mental note to tidy up later.
Climbing onto the bed, he settled between your legs, his weight pressing down on you as his chest melded into your soft, warm skin. A quiet, content sigh slipped from his lips as he let himself sink into you.
“But 'm still very sorry about earlier,” he murmured, his words a gentle apology as his hand brushed along your side, his nose nuzzling against your boob. “And I wanna be a little gentler with you tonight. Is that okay?”
A warmth swirled in your stomach, sending soft flutters through your body. Your hand lifted to thread through his silky, messy hair, your nails grazing his scalp just the way he loved.
“Of cour-kkhm,” His eyes flicked up to meet yours from where his head rested on your chest, and with a bunny smile, his fingers carefully tugged his shirt from your mouth, freeing your lips so you could speak more clearly.
Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his tattooed fingers, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. “You can have me any way you want, baby,” you whispered softly, your words full of affection. “You know that.”
“Never getting rid of me, you know that, right?” he murmured against the soft skin of your sideboob, his lips puckering to suck a delicate mark into the flesh.
“Would never try,” you sighed, your hand trailing down to rest on his warm, solid back as he licked tenderly over the mark he’d left. “Would fucking castrate you if you even tried to leave me.”
A low, deep laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he shifted up, his naked form pressing closer until his mouth found its place in the crook of your neck. He mumbled softly, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Would let you.”
You giggled, your head tilting to meet your other half. “Slut,” you mumbled sweetly before connecting your mouth with his. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, tongues lazily lapping against each other, unrushed and full of love.
The taste of you in his mouth had you clenching around nothing as the memory of his filthy tongue buried between your thighs minutes ago resurfaced. Your hips rocked up lightly, exhaling through your nose when the tip of his cock just barely brushed against your sticky clit, the sound loud in contrast to the soft click of your tongues.
Jungkook was no less affected, groaning into your mouth as his fingers tightened around the sides of your waist. His hips shifted down so the full length of his shaft could slip between your slick folds, and he reveled in the loud, squishy noise of your heat enveloping him as he slid back and forth.
“Mmmmhh,” you broke away from his mouth with a sigh of relief, your head lolling back as your body ignited at the feeling of his cock finally returning home. He didn’t make a move to push inside just yet, continuing his deep thrusts, coating his length and balls in your slick as he rutted back and forth. "Shit, baby."
Jungkook’s groan was strained as his hand trailed from your side, slipping between the two of you without moving his head. He reluctantly pulled his cock from your slick folds before two of his fingers were there to replace it, sinking into your heat without hesitation.
"F-fuck," you choked, your chest heaving at the sudden stretch, your body reacting instantly to the familiar intrusion. It was the first time something stiff had been inside you all night, and the relief was overwhelming.
Jungkook groaned low in your ear, letting you adjust for a second before his hunger took over. He pushed his fingers in deeper into your hole, sinking them in fully until his palm slapped loudly against your clit. Then he pulled them out and drove them back in, harder.
"Oh god, b-baby, shitttt." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, jaw slacking when his long fingers easily reached that spongey part deep inside of you.
He nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing the hot skin there as his fingers continued their relentless pace, a soft groan escaping his throat. The way your walls squeezed tightly around his fingers like you didn't want him to pull out, the loud sqsch-sqsch-sqsch of your pussy echoing in his ears as he thrusted his hand in and out of your dirty little hole.
God, he was going to cum untouched like a fucking teenager.
“Need to put it in, please, baby,” he begged softly, voice strained with need, his breath hot against your neck. “Need you."
Your hand cupped his face, fingers brushing lightly over his jawline as your eyes fluttered shut. “Take it,” you mewled, breath catching as his fingers slowed. His hips shifted back over you, his heavy balls pressed snugly against your clit. “Take it all, baby. It’s yours.”
Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He withdrew his fingers, his wet hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. He exhaled into your neck before slipping back into your folds and you choked out a loud sigh of relief as he finally began to fill you up.
“Shittttt,” he slurred against your neck, his forehead pressing into your jaw as he sank all the way in until his hips were flush with yours. “God, baby... so fucking good.”
His body stayed pressed against yours, his chest melting into your own, every inch of his skin needing to feel yours. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, up your neck, and to your jawline, pressing gentle kisses as he moved inside you with deep, unhurried thrusts.
“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, your hands sliding up his back, pulling him impossibly closer. You buried your face into his neck, the scent of Bvlgari and tobacco making your head spin. It was so good. So fucking him.
The warmth of his heavy body on top of you made you feel so safe, so completely his. It fueled the burning ache in your stomach, the pressure in your core building with each deep stroke.
Your brows furrowed, overwhelmed, and your eyes pooled with tears, both from pleasure and emotion. "God, I love you so much, Jungkook. You make me feel so safe a-and loved," you choked out, voice trembling.
Jungkook’s hips stilled slightly, but you felt the way his cock twitched inside you at your words. He pulled his head back, looking down at your tear-streaked face, eyes softening.
"My baby," he mumbled softly, his clean(er) hand lifting to brush away your tears before leaning down to press soft kisses over your flushed skin.
"As long as I’m alive, nothing and nobody will ever hurt a hair on your pretty little head, Y/N." He kissed over the fresh tears, licking the salty liquid off his lips before placing a soft kiss onto your pouty lips. "Besides me, of course, when you ask me to."
A watery chuckle escaped your lips as he added, "I love you more than I love myself, baby. You're my world. I would kill for you," another kiss to the corner of your mouth before he cheekily added, "almost have."
You giggled, shaking your head and leaning up to press a grateful kiss against his lips. You followed it with another, longer one, brushing softly over the cool metal of his lip rings. "Can't wait to live with you, baby."
"Mmm," he groaned in satisfaction, his hips instinctively picking up their slow, deep rhythm at your words. "Yeah? Can’t wait to be trapped in my house, nowhere to run when you’re being a little brat?"
You laughed, breathy from the way he was rolling his hips into you. "Like I get far as it is? You just follow me like a dirty stalker."
His smile turned dark and playful as his thrusts became a little sharper. "Uh-huh, and you think that would stop when we sign some stupid joint tenancy papers?"
You couldn't help the way you clenched around him at that, big eyes blinking up at him in shock. "You're letting me sign the papers with you?"
Jungkook's brows furrowed as if confused. "Baby, it's our house; why wouldn’t you?"
A grunt rumbled from your throat as you pulled him down, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Jungkook groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly, his thrusts growing rougher in response to the bite.
The sounds that echoed around your bedroom were wet, needy, the slick squelching with every push and pull as he kept his pace, deep and steady. Your breaths mingled, his lips hovering over yours as he rocked into you.
Jungkook groaned lowly, his hips pressing harder, more urgent. “You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped, his lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. “Give it to me every day, and it's still so wet and tight for me, fucking hellll.”
You keened at his praise, biting your lip harshly as his pace quickened. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, thighs squeezing as you pulled him deeper inside you until you were so close you were getting shoved into the headboard with each thrust.
“Ah, bab-uh! Right theree,” you whined, back arching as he hit that spot with precision, his thick head shoving against your g-spot like it was second nature. He knew your body inside out, and still, every time felt like a new fucking discovery.
Jungkook grunted lowly, his lips hovering by your ear as he thrust deeper, harder. “Right there, baby? That’s my spot, isn’t it? Feels so good when I fuck into it like that, huh?”
Your nails dug into his back as you whimpered, completely at his mercy. The slamming of the headboard against the wall was so loud but you couldn't care less. “Yes, yes, fuck, baby, that's yooourr fucking spot, uuh! Fucking take it, baby, godd!"
Jungkook groaned, his hips snapping faster, rougher, each thrust more desperate as he pounded into you. “I will,” he promised, possessiveness dripping from every word. “And you’re gonna give it to me, right, baby? Gonna beg me for it?”
“Please, baby, take it,” you cried out, your legs tightening around his waist. “Take it all, it’s yours. Just fucking take it.”
His hand gripped your hip hard, anchoring you in place as he slammed into you over and over again. He shifted you down a little so your head wasn't slamming into the headboard and his free hand slid down to rub over your slippery clit.
"Whose is it, huh? Who does this dirty fucking pussy belong to? Tell me.”
“You,” you sobbed, your body trembling beneath him, the pressure building in your core so quickly you could barely think. “It’s yours, baby. All y-yours.”
“Say my fucking name when you come,” he demanded, “and you’re gonna take everything I give you, right, baby? Greedy little pussy’s gonna suck up every drop of my fucking load. And you’re gonna hold it in there until I’m ready to turn you into a mama.”
You came so fucking hard.
It hit you all at once—your release crashing through you, your body shaking violently as a broken scream ripped from your throat, nails digging so deep into his skin you knew you’d leave marks.
“Jung—” your breath hitched in a sob “Jungkooookkkk!”
Your body arched into him, every wave of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you limp and trembling beneath him as he kept pounding into you, chasing his own release. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed in your ears, barely drowning out the breathless thank yous tumbling from your lips.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised, his voice strained as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing as he used you as a fleshlight.
“Gonna be the best daddy,” you cried, legs shaking as you let him abuse your whimpering cunt. “Can’t wait to have your fucking babies. Give you, uh, g-give you as many as you want daddy.”
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back in bliss. “Yeah? Gonna keep popping out babies for daddy until he says you’re done? Gonna let me fuck you so full until it sticks... 'til your belly’s so big you can barely fucking walk, baby?”
You could hear the slick, wet sloshing noise every time he pulled out and slammed back into your pussy, and you swore it was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard.
“Yesss, daddyyy,” you cried out, voice high and desperate. “Please make me a mommy. P-please.”
“Nghhh, fuck!”
With one final deep thrust, he spilled into you, hot and thick, his body trembling as he filled you completely. Your name fell from his lips again as your greedy walls fluttered and clenched around him, eager to milk every last drop of cum from his cock.
But he didn’t stop.
Jungkook’s hips kept rolling into yours, adjusting for a moment at the sensitivity before he sped up, dragging his softening cock against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb was cruel, chasing your swollen clit even as it tried to hide from him.
It was too much, too intense, but you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted—back arching, nails back digging back into his big shoulders, a broken wail spilling from your lips.
“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, head falling back as the overstimulation consumed you. “I c-can'tttt—”
“Another one," Jungkook growled, his lips brushing over your jaw, kissing you through every ragged breath. “C'mon, my love, you can do it. One more. One more, then you're done, baby.”
And just like that, it hit you—your second orgasm crashing through your body, leaving your toes curling and vision blurring. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking beneath him as he kept grinding, coaxing you through every wave of pleasure until you were trembling, thighs quivering around his waist.
“God, fuck!” you sobbed, clinging to him as the last of your release pulsed through you, squeezing his soft cock tight as he groaned into your neck. You were limp, shaking, but he stayed right there.
You both knew the chance of actually getting pregnant was very slim, thanks to the IUD in your arm, and you weren’t ready for that. You think.
But the breeding talk always turned you both the fuck on, and that 0.9% chance set something dangerous ablaze inside you. The risk, however small, just made it so much hotter.
You let out a content sigh as you crashed back to earth, shaky arms looping around his neck, pulling him down, craving the weight of his body on yours. Jungkook collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, still buried inside you
“Did so good, my baby. Always so good for me,” he cooed, his voice low and soft, as his nose nuzzled gently against your skin, brushing over your collarbone.
A breathy giggle escaped your lips as your fingers threaded through his slightly damp hair. “Thought you said you wanted to be gentle tonight.”
Jungkook hummed lazily against your neck, his lips trailing over your skin with a soft chuckle. “That was gentle,” he murmured, sinking deeper into your warm skin.
You snorted softly, shaking your head. “You’re not wrong,” you replied, your chest still heaving slightly as your hand slid soothingly up and down his back. You felt him smile against your neck, his arms tightening around you, his cock still nestled deep, clearly in no rush to pull out anytime soon.
For a moment, it was peaceful—the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the room. Then, Jungkook lifted his head slightly, glancing at the soft glow of your Mac screen. His eyes caught the time, and he let out an annoyed groan, burying his face deeper into your skin.
“Hm? What’s wrong?” you asked, your fingers still threading through his hair as you glanced toward the screen yourself. Your heart dropped when you saw the time.
“You’ve got to be up in, like, three hours,” you mumbled, running your hand down his back, your feet sliding up and down the back of his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.
Jungkook’s body tensed slightly at the reminder, his lips still pressed to your neck. You could feel the irritation in his silence, and your heart sank at the thought of him leaving before you even woke up.
“I’ll make your lunch before I come into work at eight, baby,” you offered softly, your voice gentle as you tried to ease his frustration. “I can bring it up to y—”
“I’m not going,” he interrupted, his voice firm but soft against your skin.
Your heart stilled at his words, and you pulled back slightly, trying to see his face. “What do you mean, you’re not going?”
“I’m not going in tomorrow,” he repeated, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “And you’re not either. We’re staying right here until we both get some real sleep.”
You blinked in surprise. “But—”
“And then,” he cut you off again, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “we’re gonna wake up, pack your shit, and move into our house.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation.
Jungkook nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss you pouty lips, his hands brushing back your hair. “Told you, you can’t run from me anymore, baby.”
You grinned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, your heart swelling with love.
“I love you so much, my dirty stalker,” you cooed against his mouth, your fingers drifting to trace over your name inked across his chest.
Jungkook’s eyes crinkled as his lips pressed softly against yours again, his body relaxing as he breathed you in. “I love you more, my crazy girl."
END.
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WOW what a ride!! let me know what you think?? love you 🖤
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k-dgn · 2 days
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Sana's Web
New Writer Debut, A/N at the end! 7.7k Words
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~ CHAPTER 1: Forming a Thread ~
SN: Schedules ended early, so I stopped by your place. Don't keep me waiting too long! 
You were currently at your studio downtown working on edits for your latest client. Some headshots and stills for a new group YG was set to debut later that year, your usual routine. After working in the photography industry for so long, coupled with the rate at which new groups were being pushed out, all the idols seemed to start blending together in your head. Still, you counted yourself blessed and fortunate enough to be able to work with the people that you had. Though you tended not to get starstruck as easily anymore, you thought back to a particular photoshoot you were hired for a couple months prior that hit you a bit differently. When you got the email from a JYP representative that said they were interested in your body of work and wanted to bring you onboard for a solo member project they were working on, you couldn't deny that you weren't at least a little excited to see who you'd be getting the opportunity to work with. You had gotten a chance to work with idols from most of the top name agencies, but this would be the first project you'd be working on under JYP.
On the day of the shoot, your mind was racing thinking about who it could be, but those thoughts were instantly washed away when Sana walked on set. It turned out that the project you were hired for was the next in a line of “Yes, I am” photobooks the company was putting out. After laying out your vision and going over the general game plan for the day, you all got to work. Throughout the shoot you remained the consummate professional that you always were, but you would be remiss if you did not acknowledge how captivating Sana was. She had this inexplicable aura to her that kept drawing you in, only for her to swerve your expectations with an ever-present bubbliness that she had all but trademarked at this point in her career. In between set and outfit changes, you would show her shot previews asking for her opinions. She gave input here and there, even suggesting some things she wanted to try that not even you had thought of, further cementing her status as a veteran idol in the industry. 
All that was fine and well, but it was the little things she would do and the small details you'd take notice of in between shots that made this particular day feel a little different. The way she would lean in close to your shoulder as you showed her the camera. The way her eyes sparkled whenever she looked at you, giving you her full undivided attention whenever you paused the shoot to give her some direction. The way her smile lit up the room when she liked a certain shot preview. You weren't uncomfortable with the atmosphere she was creating on set between the two of you, in fact it was quite the opposite. You were almost more nervous that you were being too comfortable and that it might be perceived as being unprofessional. You tried your best to shake it off, coping that this was just how her personality was, but in the back of your mind a thought flickered that maybe, just maybe there could be a little something more going on there. Nevertheless, you trucked on and finished the rest of the shoot without issue. 
A little part of you was sad that your wonderful time working with Sana had come to an end, but you were grateful for the opportunity either way. You spent the next few days compiling and editing the best shots from the day before sending it over to the company, thanking them for bringing you onboard and stating your openness to future projects with them. Afterwards, all you could do was  hold out some hope that her company would hire you for future endeavors.
Another week passed by and you still hadn’t heard back. Just as you had started to give up hope, you finally received a response, but it was a little different than what you were expecting. Instead of a JYP representative, the message was from Sana’s personal manager. In it, it said that Sana had really enjoyed the finished shots and wanted to thank you personally, leaving you a time and place to be at. As ecstatic as you were, you kept your composure and replied back, thanking them once again for the opportunity and that you’d be happy to meet up. 
On the date scheduled for you, you pulled up to the JYP building and parked in the garage. It turned out that the company had closed off their downstairs public café for a few hours per Sana’s request to give the two of you some privacy. When you walked in, you saw Sana sitting and leaning back at a booth in the corner away from the cashier stand, scrolling on her phone to pass time waiting for you to arrive. She was dressed rather comfortably wearing an pink oversized knit sweater adorning her arms. Underneath, you could see she was wearing a black top, its thin straps hanging on to her exposed shoulders. You remember thinking that even dressed down, she was jaw-dropping.You had to admit, you were a bit nervous being alone with her for the first time, but you steeled your resolve and made your way to the booth. As you approached, you remembered the feeling you got when she looked up and flashed you a smile. Even to this day, you’d never forgotten the look she gave you when she beckoned you to come join her, placing her phone down and once again giving you her full attention.
The two of you exchanged pleasantries and started up some small talk. She told you that she was overjoyed to see the end results of the shoot, and that she felt like you had made her look especially pretty that day. Thinking quickly on your feet, you smiled and countered that you really didn’t do anything, and that her visuals came to light all on her own. You even went ahead and thanked her, going so far as to say that it was one of the easiest and most fun shoots you’d had the pleasure of doing. You then remarked that she was just as pretty today without all the fancy clothes as she was when you last saw her. That compliment seemed to do it as she giggled and playfully hit your hand, replying that you didn’t look too bad yourself as she quickly eyed you. She then inquired about you for a bit, wanting to know a little bit more about the person behind the camera. 
As you started going through your backstory, she placed her elbows on the table between you, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on her hands. Between her arms, you could see the slightest hint of her cleavage peeking through. Though she wasn’t as endowed as some of the other members in her group, you remember thinking that what she had suited her quite well. In that moment, she was truly embodying the cutie-sexy persona that she had become famous for. Her eyes remained locked on yours as you spoke, sometimes nodding her head showing that she had a genuine interest in learning more about you. You eyes however were having slight troubles reciprocating. There were a couple of instances where you caught your gaze trailing downwards, but you swiftly corrected yourself hoping that she wouldn’t notice. It was your first time being alone with her 1-on-1 after all and you didn’t want to leave her with a bad impression, even though you couldn’t deny that you liked what you were seeing. 
Unbeknownst to you, she was doing everything with a purpose. She knew from the moment she leaned forward that she had you in the palm of her hand, but wanted to let you finish your story before moving ahead with her real plan. After you wrapped up, her hands dropped to the table as she hugged her arms, accentuating her bust even more as she leaned forward. Your eyes glanced downward one last time, but this time she made it known that she caught you red-handed, her beautiful smile growing even bigger. As you nervously tried to laugh it off, in a calm voice she told you something that you’d never forget for the rest of your life:
"So…I know you've probably worked with a lot of big time idols..." Sana said as she leaned forward, slowly sliding her hand across the table before placing it on top of yours. "...but have you ever fucked one before?" 
You silently gulped as your eyes trailed from her hand up to her eyes. The cute, bubbly idol known the world over was nowhere to be seen. In front of you now was a vixen, her eyes lidded as the corners of her lips curled into a devilish smile, her true intentions for this meetup clear as day. 
That day was the first of many more meetups to come. Some days she’d message you to come by her apartment, other times she’d say she’d go to yours. Either way, they all ended the same way: the two of you heaving for air next to each other after another lust-filled night. It was primal the way the two of you would go at one another. From the second the two of you got your hands on each other, it was like nothing could ever tear the two of you apart. She was almost insatiable in the way she would be all over you, making you feel each and every bit of her entire being. Clearly, whatever you did seemed to check all the boxes for her as she kept coming back for more. What started off as a call maybe once a week quickly evolved into one every few days. You weren’t one to complain though. She was arguably one of the most attractive idols in the entire industry, so you made sure to make the time whenever she wanted it. Fast-forward a couple of months later, and today was another one of those times.
-----
A couple of hours passed and after finishing your work for the day and rushing back home, you were now in the elevator on the way up to your apartment. Given your resumé, you did quite well for yourself, getting a nice top-floor apartment in a secluded corner of the building away from the potential prying eyes of neighbors. You input the code to your door, the same code you had given to Sana a few weeks prior since she frequented your place so much over the last few months. You walked inside and kicked off your shoes before making your way into your living room. Normally when you knew Sana would be over, she would be waiting for you on the couch watching whatever drama she was into at the time, but this time she was nowhere to be seen. You looked around in confusion before tentatively calling out to her.
“Sana…? You here?”
“Mhm!” you heard echo out from your bedroom door. “Just freshening up a bit. Wait for me out in the living room, ok?”
You shouted back your acknowledgement and plopped yourself down on your sofa. You'd had a pretty long day at work and were ready to unwind, so you figured a few more minutes of waiting wouldn't hurt anybody. You whipped out your phone and began scrolling. A few minutes turned into 10 and you started to get impatient. Just as you tossed your phone aside and were about to get up to go check on her, your bedroom door opened, but you still couldn't see Sana. What happened next froze you in place.
Slowly, Sana emerged from your bedroom. It was night time and the lighting was a bit dim, but through it you could still see her entire figure. Her hand was raised above her head, caressing one side of the door frame as she leaned on the other, stepping forward a bit before stopping and crossing her legs. The light from the living room illuminated her body in all the right ways, letting you see all that she had to offer. She was almost fully nude, only wearing a pair of black heels and a matching pair of black lingerie stockings that went up to her thighs. Your eyes trailed upwards as you continued to take in the sight. Her pussy was clean-shaven, just the way you liked it. Her midriff was toned but not muscular and her hips were wide, perfect to be grabbed on to. The breasts you struggled to look away from all those months ago during your first 1-on-1 meeting were now being proudly displayed before you. They were supple and were the ideal size for her frame. She had done her flowing brown hair in a simple manner, the curls of the ends framing her chest nicely. Her eyes told you everything else you needed to know about how this night was about to go. They were the same eyes she gave you before your first time together.
“Took you long enough.” Sana remarked with a hint of playfulness. She turned around to give you a look at her petite ass before looking over her shoulder. “Come here.”
You were caught in a trance as you took in everything that just happened. Sana smiled to herself knowing the power her and her body had over you before walking back into your bedroom. Without thinking, you slowly rose from the sofa and followed her inside. The lights were dimmed in your room as well, but it was just enough to set the mood. She was standing at the edge of your bed, gazing back at you with her eyes brimming with lust. As you walked over you discarded your top, exposing your chest to her. You weren't as muscular as a bodybuilder, but you were no slouch either. You took pride in the way you took care of yourself, and the look on Sana’s face as she took in your body told you that the work you had put in was worth it. Both of your eyes were feasting on each other as you made your way over to her, and the excitement the two of you shared was palpable. You stopped in front of her as she raised her arms, placing them on your shoulders while you held on to her waist. With devilish grins and one last look into each other's eyes, the stage was set for what would undoubtedly be yet another incredible night.
She tilted her chin up, closing her eyes as you leaned down to meet her halfway. Electricity surged through your veins as your lips met in spectacular fashion. Every kiss with Sana was like the first time all over again. Her lips were tender, with a tinge of sweetness emanating from the lip gloss she knew you loved the taste of. She softly moaned into your mouth as your hands began trailing her sides, feeling her and lightly massaging her curves. Her arms hooked themselves around your neck, pulling you in deeper as if to tell you that there was no escaping her now, not that you would have wanted to anyways. Your tongues soon joined the fray, weaving themselves together in a back and forth battle for dominance. Slowly she began to acquiesce, conceding to your victory over her mouth. She sank backwards as you gently guided her to lay on the edge of the bed, your faces never once parting.
You could feel that the tension building up down below was nearing an all-time high, so you decided that it was time to kick things up a notch. You pulled away from her lips leaving her breathless as you stood upright, quickly unbuckling your pants and kicking them off. Sana meanwhile looked up to you with the same insatiable grin you had grown accustomed to, taking her hands and slowly massaging each of her boobs. Her eyes then locked on to your cock, standing proudly just above her face as she bit her bottom lip in anticipation. If there was one thing you had learned during your times with the sexual vixen lying perpendicularly beneath you, it was that touch meant everything to her. 
She knew how to use her touch to bring about the perfect amount of tension in whatever she did. With her lidded eyes now locked on yours, she gently wrapped one of her hands around the base of your cock, guiding it down to her face before sticking her tongue out and gliding along your underside from the base to your tip. When she got there, she tilted you down a bit further and planted a tender kiss on the most sensitive part of your head. You hissed out as your face contorted in pleasure, trying your best to prevent your knees from buckling. Sana looked back up at you with a smug look, again feeling like she knew how to hit all of the right buttons. Wanting to take things a step further, she guided your tip down and took you inside her mouth. Her lips wrapped around your head and she swirled her tongue, moaning as she enjoyed the taste of your precum while also sending vibrations straight to your core.
Not only did Sana like to touch, she liked to be touched. As she got to work tilting her face to the side to take more of you in, you cradled the top of her head to support her, softly petting her as you hummed out in pleasure. Your other hand grabbed a handful of one of her boobs and massaged it. You coyly pinch one of her nipples, sending a jolt throughout her body, and getting a slight yelp of enjoyment out of her. She kicked off her heels and brought her knees up to the bed. Your hand then moved from her breast and caressed the inside of her thigh, lightly teasing her as it made its way up her leg. When you got up to her pussy, your fingers traced her lips sending shivers up her body. She closed her eyes and moaned out once again, reveling in your touch as she began sucking in earnest. You looked down to your fingers, parting her lips and seeing that she was quickly growing wet from pure arousal. Slowly, you insert one finger before withdrawing and repeating, getting a little more in each time. Her velvety walls fit snugly around your finger, just as tight as every other time you'd gotten the chance to be inside her. Your thumb massaged her in small circles outside as a second finger entered her. 
“Mmmmmm yes…” Sana moaned out as she briefly pulled her mouth away from your cock. You kept a slow, steady pace in fingering her as she began lifting her hips from the bed to meet you. She tilted her head up and arched her back, voicing her pleasure as she jerked you off. She wasn't away from you for too long as she then dove right back in, swirling her tongue along your length before taking you in once more. She delicately bobbed back and forth around your tip, breath-filled moans escaping her lips each time she pulled her head back. Her other arm wrapped itself across her chest, pushing up both of her tits. You would have been perfectly content with just all of this foreplay with one of the most beautiful and sought after women on the planet, but you both knew that this wasn't the only reason she had come by tonight.
"Isn't it about time for you to be a gentleman?" Sana asked of you, teasing your lack of oral reciprocation. You smirked, knowing exactly what the bubbly girl desired of you.
"Hmmm, well, I can't let you shave yourself for me and then not reward it. That would be bad manners." You replied, as you readied yourself to  reposition your entire frame to fit in between her legs. Sana took this time to crawl further into the bed, setting her head a little upright, leaning against the headrest of the bed. You moved next to the bed towards the end, as you got on, crawling towards her with her legs spread open, inviting you, she closed her lingerie-covered legs in your face. This took you by surprise, as you were fully expecting to have had a mouthful of her delicious pussy by now, but instead you were met by her, admittedly beautiful, legs closed in your face and smirk on hers.
"Not so fast! You haven't earned it yet." Sana berated you, devilish grin staring down at you. She wasn't mad, but she was definitely enjoying teasing you. You weren't really sure what about, this time.
"Oh is that so? And why is that?" Was your reaction to her, trying to pry what you supposedly did wrong.
"I heard from insider intel, you were shooting shots for a different girl group today! I bet you fucked them too, while I was out here waiting for you!" She yelled back, the pitch and volume of her voice rising as she pointed a finger at you accusatory, accompanied with a big smile and bigger eyes. Your face turned deadpan, as her accusation finally started to make a semblance of sense. 
"All of the members were underage..." You told her, clearly not entertaining her guess. Her mouth now fell wider agape as she started to look at you in disbelief. 
"Don't tell me-" She started to reply, but you gave her no chance to even finish that sentence and interrupted her.
"Absolutely not, that's disgusting. Besides, Sana, you know you're the only client of mine I've ever fucked." You continued, pleading your innocence, absolutely not entertaining any sorts of accusations of illegal behaviors.
"Okay fine!" Sana relented. "But I still think we should do our usual game!" Her arms now crossed back over her body, as she looked away to her left with a pouty mouth.
"Ah, so that is why you spoiled me with the start of a blowjob just now, huh? You wanted to get a head start!" You accused her back, knowing damn well nothing ever comes free when it's from her. "Fine, but you're just going to lose like every other time."
Sana's face perked up as her smile grew bigger, facing you head on once more. You both sat upright, facing each other. Sana spread her legs with her knees pointed towards the roof, as you slid yours under hers, bringing your cock closer to her pussy, but leaving some distance in between. This game the two of you played was simple. You and Sana faced each other, and you had to finger Sana whilst she jerked you off. First one to cum, loses. Loser has to give in to the winner's demands.
You both looked into each other's eyes intensely, placing your hand in front of her dripping pussy, as she placed hers on top of your stiff cock. Without any kind of start sign, it was Sana that started off the competition, spitting onto your dick, making sure it stayed wet while she started off with a high tempo. You were expecting some kind of countdown, but you wouldn't lose from this. You took a different approach from Sana, and started off with only your thumb on her pussy, rubbing in circles on and around her clit, slowly. You used the rest of your fingers to press down onto her skin above her vagina, adding some pain and pressure to her pleasure. You were still holding on easily, but you'd already figured out Sana's weak spots. Her moans were giving her away, and you were clearly winning this race. She decided to up her commitment, using her other hand as well now, gripping it tightly around the base of your cock, putting firm, constant pressure while having her other hand twist and turn smoothly around the head of your dick. 
If she was using two hands, so would you. Your other hand joined the fray, slowly inserting your index finger into her slit, pulling it out, inserting your middle finger into her slit, and following up with inserting both at the same time. Her legs started to tremble against yours, and you could tell this race was in the bag. You were enjoying the feeling of her soft, velvety hands gliding up and down your shaft, but you could enjoy so much more if you endured. You kept the pace of your inserted fingers slow, curling your fingers inside of her, touching all of her insides slowly, while having picked up the pace with your thumb, going as fast as you could, rubbing back and forth in between her lips.
"I can feel it Sana, you're going to lose!" You gloated, sure of your victory.
"Shut up!" She sneered back, not having given up yet. Her actions confirmed this, as she clearly broke the rules of the game, and pulled her lower body away, to dive right into your cock. Her lower body slid backwards, her legs straightening as she was forced to do a split with her legs, just to fit on the bed, her legs split spread against the base of the headrest. Her upper body went down, her mouth plunging around your cock as your hands were now left Sana-less. One of her hands was holding all her hair to the side, and the other was still tightening the base of your cock as she tried making her way down.
"Oh, I don't think so!" You yelled back, not accepting defeat so easily. You leaned your right arm over her back, making use of the fact her ass was still so close thanks to her forced split, and started fingering her from the back.
"If you want to cheat so bad, you can choke on my cock while you lose!" You continued, now placing your left hand on the back of Sana's head, holding her down on top of you and pushing her to your base as far as you could. "Hrrkkk?!" was one of the more understandable sounds she made, as her moans were mixed with gags. Her warm spit was dribbling down from her mouth onto your balls, as she forced her tongue out against the base of your cock in an attempt to not gag as much. Her both hands had started digging into your thighs, but not in an attempt for you to release her. She was letting you force her, there was no intention to escape, as her conviction to win must have taken over. Her nails were firmly planted in your skin, sure to leave marks. No, she wasn't pushing you away, she was holding herself down as well. Her face revealed her true thoughts however, her eyebrows worriedly coming together in between her eyes, which were rolling back into the back of her head. Please cum fast, or have your dick grow small, were the two thoughts repeatedly rushing through her head, a place already being pierced by your cock. It didn't take long for the sensation of your fingers going wild inside her and your cock bulging in her throat to finally make her submit though. You felt the warm liquids of her squirt leak onto your hand and shoot against your headrest, as her mouth tightened on your member and her legs started to shake violently, signaling your victory, as you finally let her head go and come back up for air.
"Looks like I win. Again!" You relished, as Sana's make up had started running a little from her cheating in the game, now looking directly back at your face, a pouty expression painted on her visage.
"I wouldn't keep fucking you if you couldn't win, you know." She scoffed. She was clearly upset with her loss after pulling out all the stops. She kept looking at you, with puffed cheeks and a furrowed brow.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." You replied, your hands up in the air in an apologetic manner. "You got close to winning, I'll admit." This made Sana's pouty face lighten up, and you can tell she gained a sense of determination to turn close to winning into a decisive victory, next time you play your game. You can't help but wonder what new cheats and tricks she'll have up her sleeve.
"I let you win! You're lucky I like it when you tell me what to do! But a deal is a deal. What would you like this time?" She said as she regained her composure, her doe eyes staring into your soul, as her split laid legs turned into her holding her knees in front her body, pulled close to her torso with one arm as her other hand was swiping hair out of her face, which was now tilted sideways. Despite the black tears rolling down her cheeks, she somehow managed to still look cute in this erotic atmosphere.
"Let's see... You seemed pretty hell bent on sucking my dick just now. I'd like to continue that!" You decided after deliberating it shortly.
"Huuuuuuuh? Then, what about me?" Sana replied, back to pouting now. She agreed to the rules of the game, but clearly still had plans to satisfy her own needs first. This didn't come as a shocker to you. Ever since you started fucking Sana, you've known her to be insatiable. No amount of fucking could ever be enough for her.
"I'll eat your pretty little pussy out first if I get to do what I want afterwards?" You replied, having that one prepared, knowing exactly how she would react. Nothing was ever free with Sana, and this relationship was as casual as it was transactional.
"See, I knew you'd pick something fun! Sure, I'm game!" She replied gleefully, laying her hand on your arm, as if to commend you. Sana took a deep breath, eyes closed, and leaned back into the bed, lying on her back as you took the hint to move backwards and create space for her. You were back on the bed where you started, Sana laying in front of you as her knees were in the air, closing the path forward.
This time however, it only took the slightest touch of your fingers against her stocking covered calves to move open. She allowed you in between her legs, as you laid your head down before her pussy. You took in her smell as you planted a soft kiss on her entrance. It was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but think you'd never thought you'd fall in love with the smell of somebody's vagina until you got close to Sana's. She let out a soft chuckle as your lips first touched, burying her hands in your hair. You were off to a good start. Your tongue slithered from left to right, up to down, hitting all the weak spots she had. If the fact that her hands were now grasping onto your hair or her moans were any indication, you were doing good. She was still sensitive from cumming just now, and you knew just how to abuse that. 
You pulled back, creating some distance from her pussy and you, only to spit on it, causing Sana to yelp from surprise. You didn't give her very much time to be confused, as you jammed your still wet index and middle finger into her slit as far her body would allow. Her back arched against the bed, supported by her head falling into the mattrass, as she moaned out a loud enough "fuck" you thought it'd be impossible for any neighbors you had to have not heard that. You went back to your tongue play, slowly licking every inch of her pussy, whilst your fingers were pounding away furiously at her inner walls. The rhythmic dissonance soon proved too much for Sana, as her thighs squeezed tightly against the sides of your head, trembling like you were in the midst of an earthquake, before letting up with the rest of her body, falling limp in the bed. Now my fun begins, you thought to yourself, feeling the same kind of happiness an experienced craftsman feels after a job well done.
Sana laid there, heaving, eyes closed, surely savoring the feeling. You didn't let up though, and felt you deserved what was about to happen next. As you were getting off the bed readying your next move, Sana opened her eyes, looking for you next to her on the bed but not finding you.
"Alright, lie down, it's my turn." She pushed out in between the breaths in a slightly sultry tone.
"Lie down?" You asked, already standing next to the bed, before reaching both your arms under the girl, and flipping her body a quarter circle on the bed. You laid her down again on her back, in a way which made sure her head was hanging off of the edge of the bed close to you. "I have a better idea."
"Oh..." She exhaled, her tone now fully sultry with a hint of hungriness in it as her eyes locked onto her target. She was ready to devour what you presented her, biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" She asked, playing innocent.
"Open your mouth." You commanded, and she obediently followed. Her mouth opened as wide as she could, and even took the courtesy to stick her tongue out for you. "Good girl" were the next words out of your mouth, and coincidentally, also the last discernable words you were going to make before cumming. She seemed to like being called a good girl, but you wouldn't give her a chance to confirm it audibly. You fired your cock into her mouth, clearly still frustrated from her starting a blowjob twice this evening with no intention to finish them. You managed to slide your dick about halfway into her mouth, before stopping and holding it there. You thought to yourself, let's give her a chance to prove she actually is a good girl. And sure enough, she picked what you were putting down, and started moving her head away from your cock and back halfway over it, trying her best to service you. Although the attempt was sweet, this wouldn't make good for her cheating. You leaned your body forwards, letting both your hands fall onto her exposed tits, grabbing a handful with each.
She yelped a muffled "hnngh" as you clutched her chest tightly, before forcing rhythmic gagging sounds out of her small body. Playtime was over, and you started pounding her throat, forcefully shoving your cock all the way down to its base inside of her mouth. Her eyes shot wide open, as you towered above her, matching her gagging moans with your own delighted moans. Sana loved the sound of you enjoying yourself, and couldn't resist the temptation herself any longer. Despite her entire consciousness was focused on not choking on your dick, her hands move on their own as they found their way to her pussy once again, rubbing her clit with the same rhythm as you were fucking her face.
Spit was drooling from her mouth onto your balls, and you felt the urge to cum near. You decided to pound all the way down her throat one last time, making the dent your dick made on the inside of her neck clearly visible, holding it there for a second or two before pulling out. Your cock was now hanging above Sana's face as she gazed upon it with hungry, obsessed eyes as her spit, tears and mascara were mixing on her cheeks. You release her tits, giving them one last squeeze before you start to jerk yourself off to completion.
"Stop!" Sana screamed at you furiously. "I want to finish you off!" She continued, as her right hand left her pussy, leaving her left hand there alone. She grasped your spit covered cock tightly and wasted no time in rapidly stroking your cock up and down and up and down again.
"Im gonna fucking cum." Is what you wanted to say, but your moans and enjoyment made sure to slur that speech  to something barely understandable. Sana understood however, as she presented her face, ready to accept your load onto it. You shot out string after string of cum onto her lips, her cheeks, some in her mouth, until everything was either covered in you, or mixed with her mascara, spit and tears. The moment that first drop hit her cheek sent Sana over the edge as well, causing her third orgasm of the night. She wasn't planning on opening her mouth and swallowing your cum, but she couldn't stop herself from moaning, leading to some of it making it in either way. She wasn't about to complain though, and gulped down happily. 
You almost fell to your knees after this, but somehow managed to find the strength to stay standing. You had to. Sana hadn't let you cum on her face before, so you had to do everything you could to remember this moment. Suddenly you had an idea. 
"Wait here!" You screamed before darting off out of the room. It took you less than ten seconds to return, and with you a polaroid camera. "I know you don't like pictures because they could leak. So I brought this!" Sana looked at you, her head resting on the bed, trying her best to not let any cum drop off of her.
"A polaroid camera? Hahaha! Okay, sure. But only one picture this time." She replied in a bubbly tone. You were slightly surprised by her agreement, but not about to spoil the chance. You positioned yourself whatever way you knew best, and snapped a picture of the defiled idol's cum covered face. You smiled happily at the printed out piece of film paper, as Sana saw your look in the corner of her eyes.
"Does my cum covered face make you that happy? Maybe I should let you do it a little more often... Or maybe I shouldn't if you will always forget to bring me a towel when you're done." She teased you, the cute and bubbly tone ever present in her voice.
"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, before storing your picture in a drawer in your nightstand rapidly, dashing out and returning to the girl with a towel.
"That's more like it." She replied before letting out that cute little laugh of hers and wiping her face clean.
-----
You were now laying in your bed with your arm around Sana, herself snuggling up next to you. As per usual, she never liked to leave right away, opting instead to unwind for a little while longer. You were watching some TV while Sana scrolled through her phone. After some time, you lowered the volume and patted her back, getting her attention.
“Hey, Sana?”
She tilted her head, placing her chin on your chest and looking up at you with her doe-like eyes. 
“About what you said earlier…I meant what I said.” you said slowly.
She crooked her head to the side and furled her brow, confused as to what you were referring to.
“I really haven’t been with any of my other clients. Truth be told, I haven’t even thought about it.” 
Sana turned her body to sit up. She thought to herself for a second before letting out a deep breath. “Good. And you better not think about it in the future either. Don’t forget, you are mine.” she said in a serious tone.
This got your attention. When you think back to what the two of you had going for the last few months, you believed it to be casual at best. As such, seeing Sana getting worked up over the thought of you being with other idols struck you as odd. Your confusion must have been plastered across your face, since just as you were about to push the topic further, Sana lifted her finger and placed it on your lips, shushing you.
“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t mean it like that.” Sana retracted her hand and sat up fully, crossing her legs as you sat up to join her. “What I meant was, I like being able to call you whenever I’m free. I don’t want you getting around to the point where I can’t reach you whenever I want to. Also, you satisfy my needs perfectly so I’m having a ton of fun. You can call me selfish, but I just don’t want to ruin this by making it any more complicated than it is. Besides, you’re having fun too, right?”
You nod your head in agreement, but then another thought strikes you. “So what then? You’re just free to do whatever you want, meanwhile I’m not allowed to be with anyone else? Sana, that’s hardly fair.” you huff as you cross your arms.
Sana recoils a bit at this and looks down at her lap. You mentally facepalm, already regretting what you had just said and wishing you could take it back. You reach out a hand placing it on her thigh. “Wait…I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.” Sana brings her knees up, hugging them close to her chest as she looks back up at you, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 
“...is this not enough for you?” she says, her voice almost breaking. She quickly sinks her head down to her knees, hiding her face from your view. You’re quick to move, scooting yourself beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“Yes! Of course it is, Sana. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I really am grateful for what we have going now, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. You are, Sana. You really are. If you don’t want me sleeping with other girls, I won’t.” you affirm as you rub her arm, hoping to console her.
“Do you mean that? You won’t sleep with anyone else if I say so?” you hear her squeak out.
“If it means still getting to sleep with you, I'll do it.” you respond, hugging her even tighter. You lean down and kiss the top of her head. After a few seconds more of holding her there, you notice her grip on her knees begin to loosen.
“Hehehe, wow...Just like that, huh?” You tilt your head down towards Sana in bewilderment. It wasn’t until you took a pause and really looked that you realized she wasn't crying at all; rather, she was giggling.
“Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me right now?!” You nudge her away from you as she rolls onto her side, still holding onto her knees as she finally bursts out in laughter. You scoot back away and actually facepalm this time. 
“Ahhh I wish I could have seen your face. You must really like me that much, don’t you?” she teases.
You turn to look at her with a defeated expression, getting another laugh out of her. “I can’t believe you…” you sigh before letting out a chuckle, seeing the humor in the situation she put you in yourself. Sana wipes her happy tears from her face before collecting herself and sitting upright next to you.
“Listen, of course you can sleep with other girls, it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. I just don’t want to see you whoring around the entire k-pop industry now that you’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like. But, I’ll tell you what! You’ve been good to me these last few months. Like, really good. I think I know a way I can return the favor…”. You tilt your head once more, egging her on to continue her thought. “I really did like the work you did for my solo photo book. Is there anyone else over at JYP that you’ve always wanted to work with? I know I’m the first from my company to shoot with you, but I think the least I can do is introduce you to another idol, maybe find you some more work in the future?”
In truth, you'd hoped that your work with Sana would lead to more opportunities for your career, but you hadn't considered who you'd want to work with next if given the choice. "Oh, that would actually be very nice, Sana. Do you have any suggestions?"
Sana contemplates for a moment. "Well...I could introduce you to anyone really. How about someone else in Twice? I'm pretty sure any of my members would be happy to shoot with you?"
You pause and take a second to think, weighing out your options. Of all the idols at her company you had to admit that you would have loved to work with any of them, but there was one name that came to mind. You figured now was as good a time as any to shoot your shot.
“Well…I think I’d like to meet Mina if that’s cool with you…?”
Sana’s face lights up immediately. “Ah, of course! I’ll set up a meeting later this week. Let me message her right now to see when she’s free. Oh, this is gonna be so great!” She then giddily turns to reach for her phone and starts texting. 
You sit there dumbfounded, a huge smile on your face as you start to get excited at the thought of the impact this shoot could have on your career. Mina was famous for her stunning beauty, and you couldn't help but to already start firing off ideas in your head on how to capture her ethereal qualities. You've always admired her gorgeous visuals, and were chomping at the bit to meet her in person. Meanwhile, Sana silently chuckled to herself as she typed away. She knew full well that Mina would be the perfect person to introduce you to for "other" reasons, reasons you would soon find out.
______________________________________________________________ A/N: This is a collaborative work between 2 authors who share an immense love for Twice! Thank you all for taking the time to read our fantasy. Any and all feedback is welcome, so please feel free to leave a comment or shoot us a message sharing your thoughts! This is only the start of a long journey between Sana and Y/N, and who knows? Maybe a few other members may be making an appearance ;)
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yayll · 3 days
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~ a little something about Dazai surprising you on your day off ~
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Dazai's not by any means an early riser... That is unless he gets to see you that day.
It's 8 AM and he's tapping his fingers against his pant leg lightly, but he's actually really anxious and impatient. He’s waiting for you to open the front door and flash him that life changing smile of yours he’s been coveting for all week. Today’s your day off and he's decided to come over and spend the day with you so he can cherish every single moment, totally not because he’s slacking off work and wants to do the only other thing he does with his life other than avoid his responsibilities: Be the bane of your existence. You also have a nasty little habit of being a workaholic and he's here to break that once and for all. He's completely spaced out now, lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed in thought when suddenly-
You finally open the door. His angel, his everything. He immediately switches his whole demeanor, eyes twinkling as he scans your figure. You’re still in pajamas, and your hair looks messy. You look absolutely delectable for someone who just woke up to 3 missed calls and 10 texts. Dazai smirks as he leans in, wiggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.
"Well look who’s finally awake! What a sleepy little thing you are. Makes me jealous of that stupid bed of yours… Did you get my text? Come here"
He looms over you in the middle of the doorway, kissing you softly, tenderly and hungrily.
You blink, and before you can catch your bearings you’re interrupted by the softness of his eager lips. If your mouth opens, he’s pouncing. After a few moments of uninterrupted bliss, you pull back, eyes still drowsy and breathing a bit shallow. You yawn, running your fingers through your bedhead.
“Sorry. I, um… was still asleep until now. I was trying to sleep in-”
He gasps, and tilts his head, as if baffled by this.
“Now why would you do that when we have plans today?”
“... We don’t, though?”
Dazai laughs, dismissing your rightful confusion. He knows you guys never discussed plans, he just doesn't care. He lightly pinches your nose in between his fingers.
“We do! It’s why I let you sleep in for a few extra hours before coming over.”
You lazily swat at him, crinkling your nose. He’s swooning! Dazai feels a jolt of electricity through his body upon seeing the way you respond to his doting. Making you flustered is his favorite entertainment, besides suicide of course.
“But it’s 8 AM.”
“Exactly! That’s like half the day."
"... How long have you been up for?”
He rolls his eyes affectionately as he buffs his knuckles on his tan coat, replying with a nonchalant hum.
“Hmm, not important— What’s for breakfast?”
He lets himself into your apartment and you sigh into a defeated smile that somehow still holds affection for this ridiculous man. You follow him as he strides to the kitchen and fold your arms across your chest.
“You know, I’m kinda grumpy right now. It’s too early, Osamu. I need my sleep."
“And might I say you look absolutely stunning when you’re grumpy? How ever did I get this lucky…”
“Keep it up and I’ll get even worse, you goofball.”
Dazai smiles, it’s sly and dangerous. A challenge, he hears? He pretends to think for a moment, his finger placed on his lips as if really contemplating something. He’s just picturing what you’d look like yelling at him. Heavenly, of course. He flashes you a tender smile as if you just said the most romantic thing and curls his arm around your waist, whispering.
“Ooh, then I can’t wait to see worse.~”
You roll your eyes, unable to help the pink hue spreading over your face. Maybe you're still half asleep, maybe you’re just hopelessly in love with him. Either way you’re screwed. You whine with a hint of annoyance.
“Osamuuuu…”
Oh how he loves when you say his name like that. Maybe it’s time for you two to skip breakfast, he already does anyway, but he knows you actually need nutrients to function. He replies in a singsong voice.
“Yeeesss?”
“I’m making pancakes and you are going to sit down and wait.”
You point at the kitchen counter trying to be stern, and of course, failing miserably.
He looks back at the stool and then back at you. He leans within inches of your face, his nose poking yours. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly and winks.
“No can do, cutie~”
You two spend the morning making breakfast, or at least trying to. YOU are trying to, anyway. Everytime you go to gather ingredients, he’s already handing them to you. When your back is turned to him, you feel his arms snaking around you as you flip pancakes unevenly due to the distracting trail of kisses he's leaving down your neck. You secretly smile to yourself whenever you’re not feigning irritation, you know he loves the banter… Why not indulge the poor man?
You serve two plates and sit down, along with two mugs of coffee. Dazai isn’t allowed to have caffeine around you, but once again, you took pity on him today for some reason… or is it his mystifying persuasion manipulation at play here? He takes a sip of his mug and a satisfying ��Ahh’ releases soon after. He flickers his eyes towards you as you're about to sip yours as well, and it’s like the world stops. His pupils dilate and he watches intently as the rim reaches your lips, resting his chin on his palm as he leans lazily over the counter. He’s like a dog watching its owner adoringly. During his trance-like state, he thinks about how if you lived together this would be his every day routine. He could get used to watching you drink coffee and eat food. You'd wake up next to each other and hold hands as you watch the sun rise. He would tell you how breathtaking you look with bedhead and make you late for work after failing to keep his hands to himself. Maybe then you wouldn't think he's such an impenetrable wall of secrets. He wonders if there's a future where all of that happens... He snaps out of it, and murmurs.
“Can I have a taste?”
You perk up and look over, tilting your head to the side, amused.
“What, the coffee? You have your own.”
He’s so focused now, staring at your full lips, thinking of a proper answer. He wants to tell you that he's never had intimate moments like these with anyone else and he doesn’t know how long it’ll last before his luck with you runs out, that he’s afraid you’ll see right through his one dimensional facade and leave him for good. That you won’t follow him to his untimely demise should he ever fall, so he has to capture every second of it so he can keep you in his mind forever. He has to lock you up in his heart and throw away the key, otherwise becoming a man of virtue loses all its meaning.
Instead, he opts for the less complicated route, the corners of his lips curling up into a coy smile as he places a gentle hand on your thigh.
“No, your lips, dummy. I want to taste the coffee off of your lips.”
There are no words for the audacity of Osamu Dazai and the feelings thrashing inside you when he says things like that. You smile bashfully and look away, unable to accept his shameless flirting.
“You’re so weird, Osamu…”
“Mm, I'm so yours. No takesies backsies.~"
You slowly meet his gaze, his watchful eyes that ooze devotion practically holding yours hostage… God, you are so beautiful to him. Before you can even register it, Dazai scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the living room, laying you down on the soft couch. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. As soon as you show him the look of love that gives him the consent he’s looking for, he doesn’t think twice about it. He grabs your chin and pulls you into a messy kiss. He kisses you rough, his tongue almost immediately sliding into your mouth as he moans into you. His moans turn into whimpers, like he's been starved of touch for far too long and you're satiating the hunger. He needs to taste the coffee you just drank, and he wants you to know exactly how much he's been aching for this moment. For your much needed day off. For you.
He keeps his hand at your chin, pressing you down deeper into the couch with his hips grinding against yours as he tastes the acidity of the coffee along with the honey you sweetened it with.
Finally, when you literally cannot breathe, you pull away with your dazed and blissed out expression, all red in the face just like he loves. You mumble in between pants.
“Wait— So... What exactly was the plan for today?”
He looks up from running his tongue along your jawline and flashes you that infamously deceptive smile he perpetually keeps on his face, tapping his index finger on your cheek. His voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
“Breakfast.”
“.. But we already had breakfast.”
He sighs deeply and his finger ghosts its way from your cheek down to the waistband of your pajama bottoms as he needily mumbles in your ear.
“Still hungry.. I’m a growing boy, you know.~”
You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head.
"You're going to tire me, Osamu.. Work wears me out enough as is-"
He wiggles a finger at you, face full of sickening desire as he carefully lowers his head down by your stomach, resting his cheek on your soft flesh. He murmurs in that soft pleading way that drives you insane when he combos it with his reverent touch.
"Listen to me, please. No more work talk... No more stressing out your pretty self, okay? I haaaaate demanding jobs. It only takes you away from me."
You look down and simply nod, your eyes trained on the way he looks at you from under his lashes and the soft brown hair that frames his face. Your heart races with anticipation as a smile slowly creeps up onto your lips. You don't need words for what comes next.
For the rest of the day, he makes sure you have the best time off, it's the least he can do as your incredibly attentive and not selfish at all boyfriend! A day where you can shut out all thoughts of work... along with literally anything else that doesn't relate to him.
Unfortunately for you, there is no resting involved on said day. Fortunately for Dazai, you look so cute as you writhe under him for hours on end. That'll get it through your pretty little skull not to work so much.
203 notes · View notes
sugarushwriting · 3 days
Text
vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)
jay isn’t happy with your decisions
neither is sunghoon
jake or heeseung
they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them
straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!
next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.
do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.
where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?
the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.
as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.
“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.
“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”
you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”
“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”
“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”
the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”
well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.
jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.
you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.
you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.
your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.
you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.
he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”
it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.
you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.
he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.
“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.
jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”
“but—,”
jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.
jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.
“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”
his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.
he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.
he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.
you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.
jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”
another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.
you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.
he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.
jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.
your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.
“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”
your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”
you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.
another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.
he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.
your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.
he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.
fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.
“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”
if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!
he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.
not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.
he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.
“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.
jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.
all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.
his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.
your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.
it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.
you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.
you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.
you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.
jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.
but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.
you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.
“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”
you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.
jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”
jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?
footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.
sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.
“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.
“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.
sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”
his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.
you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.
“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.
this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.
your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.
your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”
sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.
“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.
your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.
you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.
maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.
you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.
you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.
your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.
all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.
hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?
you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?
with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.
heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”
wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!
you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.
that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.
heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.
he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.
“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.
you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.
you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.
his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.
not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.
“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.
now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.
your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.
it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.
you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.
you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.
it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.
“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.
your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.
your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”
you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.
“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.
you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.
“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.
“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”
and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.
jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.
you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.
between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.
he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.
jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.
jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”
your mouth was so dry.
jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.
next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.
jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.
“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”
and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.
you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.
jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.
jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”
you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.
once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.
you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
193 notes · View notes
skrrts · 3 days
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glares & snuggles (drabble)
✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, dating, fluff ✧ word count: 563
Hongjoong isn't good at taking care of himself, forgetting to wear a coat and being home late but he's lucky because he has you who looks out for him and scolds him if needed.
a/n: many hongjoong feels this week, so have something soft. let me know if you like those tiny drabbles, I'm having fun writing them right now.
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Hongjoong shivered, tugging on the sleeves of his shirt which was too thin, and not even the fluffy vest really could help to keep him warm outdoors. How was it that early Autumn suddenly felt so cold? He carefully took off his shoes after closing the door quietly but you knew him well enough. Instead of already being comfortably in bed, you waited for him, a glaring expression but with a hot cup of tea in your hands.
He flashed you an apologetic smile, looking almost shy. "Sorry, I forgot about the time again," he mumbled as you came closer, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "As always, what do I do with you? Maybe I really should start and pick you up so you do not make any more extra hours, passion project or not."
He couldn't deny he always had been the type to need somebody gently directing him, he wasn't good at taking care of himself. What would he do without you? Then, he still wanted to try harder for you, to make you happy and not worried.
A pleasant shiver rushed through him when his fingers curled around the hot cup of tea you handed to him.
"I will try better," he promised and you just sighed but smiled. "Counting on it." He already was feeling warmer, maybe because you always made him feel so happy and loved, all those little gestures that meant more than any large proof of love. His cheek heated up when your arms curled around his waist and you snuggled closer, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"I missed you," you whispered and he turned around, just enough to kiss your hair. "I missed you too." Of course, he always did, hence the guilt for still letting you wait. You carefully pushed him a little: "Well then, off to bed we go! You need to wear a coat tomorrow, alright? For now, I shall warm you up."
Hongjoong looked innocent but smiled as he carefully kicked off his shoes and allowed for you to walk like two penguins to your bedroom. He took a few more sips before placing the cup on the bedside table and took off his jeans and the vest, crawling under one of the too many blankets on top of your bed together with you.
Hongjoong curled his arms around you and you snuggled against him. The smell of your hair was comforting, you always changed your shampoo with the season and you were always warm and comforting.
Yes, this was all he needed and he should spend more time with you, like this, than work. He was grateful that you were strict yet so patient and supportive.
His fingers played with your hair before you looked up. The two of you didn't need words to communicate all the time, his gaze was always adoring when he looked at you and you looked back at him lovingly.
He was about to say something but you just pressed your index finger against his lips and instead, leaned up to kiss him.
Hongjoong smiled into the kiss, closing his eyes as the two of you fell back into the soft pillows, bodies entangled.
He never would want his days to end any other way.
It was soft and lazy and soon, you just cuddled like that, no rush in the world.
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115 notes · View notes
sarahreesbrennan · 3 days
Text
Quick Evil Note
To all my wicked darlings, I have now received rather a lot of messages asking me about the influences of Long Live Evil. And I wish to get messages about LLE and truly appreciate the ones I do get! And I wish to answer them. But answers about influences are tricky.
The book has been out in the US for a little over two weeks, and it’s going so well so far, I couldn’t be more delighted and appreciative about its reception.
But also I’ve been informed (not asked) that two of my characters are obviously somehow both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. (Very puzzling as I don’t think these pairings - and one isn’t a pair - have much in common with each other or with mine. Vague hostility against a vaguely academic backdrop for a bit? For the record… in the book everyone is an adult and I don’t even have any academic backdrops to be vaguely hostile in front of…) This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, because I haven’t had an original novel out in a long time due to illness, and it is upsetting to always be discussed differently than writers who didn’t openly link their real names to their fan identity.
I have very different feelings and new appreciation for fandom than I once had. It’s been amazing to see and meet people who have stuck with me for decades. People are generally way more open and affectionate to and within fandom than they once were. Love matters to me a good deal more than hate. But getting death threats in your early 20s for excitedly telling your Internet friends you were going to publish a book does mark the psyche, and so does having your characters dismissed as other people’s characters.
And we can say there is nothing wrong with fanfiction or writing fanfiction and there isn’t! Fanfiction is great and can be genius. Terry Pratchett wrote Jane Austen fanfiction, and didn’t (and shouldn’t) have people saying Captain Wentworth = Captain Vimes. Still, when a TV show is discussed as ‘like fanfiction’ or when Diana Gabaldon said she didn’t like fanfiction and many said ‘YOU write fanfiction’ it isn’t intended in any kind spirit, even when it’s fannish folk saying it. And it’s just generally odd to have everyone call your apple a tomato, and has had professional consequences for me in the past.
However! All the asks I’ve received have been very kind, and I do want to answer them. I do want to talk about my influences because they are manifold and because I actually think it’s important to always talk about influences. I don’t believe stories exist in isolation - we tell tales in a rich tradition, and also a story doesn’t come alive to me all the way until it’s heard or read.
Long Live Evil is a love letter to fandom: it’s chock full of references to many many stories I’ve loved, to fairytales, myths and legend and Internet memes and epic fantasy and meta. My acknowledgements are endless partly for this reason. I do owe a great debt to many portal fantasies and archetypes and musicals and jokes about genre and plays through the ages, though I do think of my characters as themselves and nobody else.
I was frankly tempted to go ‘Yes I stole EVERYTHING! Bwhahaha!’ But while I am thoroughly enjoying and finding great freedom in my villain era, I do want to talk sincerely to you all as well, especially when asked sincerely interested questions.
But I’m a little scared to do so and have people say ‘AHA! Now we know what it’s fanfiction of’ (it’s happened before) or ignore me and go ‘we know the truth!’ (it’s happened before) and to feel like I’ve injured my book. Long Live Evil means more to me than any other and I really want to get talking about it right, and make sure it has the best reception I can give it.
So. Questions on all Evil topics very very welcome but answers to influence questions may come slowly. Bear with me. I am working on this!
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glaciertea · 20 hours
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Tickets for Two
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Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot
Part 2 (coming soon)
This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.
Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.
Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.
The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.
CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.
Word count: 1.7k
There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.
It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons. 
It was him.
Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.
Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.
He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.
You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.
He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two. 
So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”
He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.
There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.
You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.
His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.
Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”
“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”
Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”
Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.
Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.
The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”
His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?
“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”
“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.” 
“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”
“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.
Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag. 
“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”
“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.
“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.
“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”
You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.
The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer. 
It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit. 
You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.
And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon. 
You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.
“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”
Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”
“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.” 
“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”
“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly. 
“Sí. A bit of a bias though.” 
“A bias?”
“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.
“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.
Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.
“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”
“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.
You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up. 
“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”
“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.
“Miguel?” 
“Do you have a pen?” 
“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left. 
You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming. 
There were ten digits written in blue.
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kai-uh-arcadian · 3 days
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Inter(n)twining
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synopsis: you’re an intern at JYP Corp, you get suddenly moved to a different floor and meet the woman of your dreams
cw: basically pure fluff, jealous Tzuyu, minor cursing, alcohol, grimey He*chul, please let me know anything else, also Tzuyu is like rich but it doesn't relate to the plot
word count: 4k
notes! hi! I hope you enjoy this!! It was sooo fun to write. I thought about this on my way to my own internship hahaha. Has anyone watched Queen of Tears? I referenced that one (<-watch it if you haven't!) scene in this that I thought was soooooo cute ahh~ anyways! Let me know how you feel about this or if you’d just like to chat. Love youuuu (:
You’d been interning at JYP Corp for about a month and a half now, and so far, things were pretty good. The people you met were okay, and while the work was definitely stressful, the fast-paced environment made the days fly by.
All in all, it wasn’t bad.
Well, almost.
Your floor boss, Heechul, was the one exception. He was in his early 40s, arrogant, and rude—those were the kindest words you could think of to describe him. You despised him secretly, but you were careful never to show it.
It was 9:20 a.m., and you had been at your desk since 7:30, typing up a last-minute report Heechul had dumped on you the moment you stepped through the office door. A report he honestly should have done yesterday.
“Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The way his smug grin appeared as your face faltered for a split second was permanently burned into your memory.
You mimicked his tone quietly to yourself while you made a face, “Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The bitter satisfaction of hitting ‘send’ on the email 40 minutes ahead of schedule almost made up for the annoyance.
“Hey, uh…”
Your heart dropped when you saw Heechul’s head suddenly poke over your cubicle wall.
Did he have super-hearing or something?!
You froze, horrified at the thought that he might’ve overheard your mocking.
“I’m so—” you began, your words stumbling out, but he cut you off without even glancing in your direction.
“Intern #5…” he drawled lazily, “someone on the 3rd floor got pulled into another project. They need someone to fill in for a 12 week case.” He flashed an indifferent smile as you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“Oh, okay. When do I start?” Not even questioning what you’d be doing for the next TWELVE weeks
“Hmm.. like now. Just grab whatever you need and head down there. Thanks!” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you blinking in disbelief.
What the hell. No details, no briefing? Just like that?
Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed your briefcase and stuffed your sparse desk items in it before making your way out the door and into the elevator. It wasn’t until you were inside that it hit you.
He didn’t even know your name. After over a month of interning, you were still just ‘Intern #5.’
“Ahh~ Seriously, fuck that guy…” you muttered to yourself as the elevator dinged, straightening your posture instinctively.
The third floor felt like a completely different world. The cubicles were laid out in a way that was the total opposite of what you were used to, leaving you standing there awkwardly, much like a worried puppy with the way your eyebrows furrowed.
After a few moments a soft voice broke through your thoughts. You turned your head to see a woman peeking out from her cubicle, you only needed to see half her face to realize she was stunning.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah… I was sent here to help out on the 12 week case,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. “But the layout is completely different from the 4th floor, so I’m a bit lost.”
She smiled warmly and stood up from her desk. “Oh! It must be the case I’m working on, my boss mentioned something earlier about another intern joining me so I think she is expecting you!  Her office is down that hall, last door on the left.” Using her long arms to point you in said direction. 
“Thanks a lot!” You started to walk away but paused, realizing you hadn’t asked for her name.
“Tzuyu,” she said with a smile, extending her hand.
“Y/n… Or, as my boss calls me, Intern #5.” You sighed with a small laugh, shaking her hand.
Tzuyu giggled softly. “I’m also an intern and I’ve heard stories about how he treats us. I think I can safely say Jihyo-nim is much nicer” assuaging your worries
As you exchanged smiles with Tzuyu, her warmth immediately calmed your nerves. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing you'd be working with someone friendly for once.
"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll try not to embarrass myself in front of her," you said with a small grin.
Tzuyu chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. She's really understanding—definitely not the type to make you feel like Intern #5," she reassured you, her voice playful.
With one last nod, you turned and made your way to Jihyo’s office, the nerves slowly creeping back in. You took a deep breath, knocked twice, and heard a clear voice from inside.
I really can’t deal with another Heechul situation
"Come in."
Opening the door, you found Jihyo seated at her desk, her space neat and organized but stacked with files. She looked up from her work and smiled brightly. "Y/n, thanks for stepping in on such short notice."
"No problem at all," you said, relieved she actually used your name.
Jihyo stood up and grabbed a folder from her desk. Jihyo motioned for you to sit. "The project we’re working on is a client case that’s been a bit tricky, but with the extra hands, we should be able to get things done faster.” She handed you the file to briefly read it over, “I’m assigning you to work on it with another intern, and I’ll walk you over to your station. You’ll be seated next to your partner."
You nodded, feeling your nerves settle. "Sounds great!"
Jihyo led you out of her office, down the hall, and toward a cluster of cubicles. As you approached, your heart skipped a beat when you realized she was guiding you right to the cubicle next to Tzuyu’s.
“Tzuyu, this is Y/n," Jihyo said with a smile as she motioned toward you. "You’ll both be working together on this case."
Tzuyu smiled warmly as she stood up. "Oh, we've already met!"
Jihyo blinked in surprise for a moment before chuckling softly. "Well, that’s perfect. That makes things easier." She gestured toward the empty cubicle next to Tzuyu’s. "Y/n, this is where you'll be sitting. Tzuyu’s already familiar with the case, so she’ll help you get caught up, and you two can take it from there. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" She made a slight notice how the tips of your ears were beginning to turn red before turning away.
"Thank you," you said, bowing before stepping into your new space and setting down your things.
As Jihyo left, you turned toward Tzuyu, a grin tugging at your lips. "Looks like we’re officially teammates."
Tzuyu nodded, her expression playful. "I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you."
"It seems so," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the idea of working closely with her made your heart flutter just a bit.
Tzuyu sat back down and gestured toward a stack of neatly organized documents. "Okay, let’s get started. I’ll walk you through what we were working on so far, and we can go from there."
You nodded, scooting your chair closer to her, your shoulder just barely brushing against hers as you both leaned in toward the table. The soft sound of paper flipping echoed against the steady lull of the room as Tzuyu began to explain the case, her voice was so calming. Her perfume—a subtle, sweet scent—seemed to linger in the air between you, and though you were trying to focus on her words, it was hard not to get a little distracted.
As she spoke, you couldn’t help but admire how composed and thoughtful she was, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pages. You found yourself glancing at her more often than the documents in front of you, drawn in by her presence. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she carried herself—poised, elegant, but still approachable.
“Do you understand it a bit more now? If not I can go over it again,” Tzuyu’s voice broke through your thoughts, and when you looked up, her eyes were already on you, curious. There was no judgment, just a soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.
You cleared your throat, trying to play it off with a grin. “Oh~! No, that’s okay,” you assuaged. “I’m just trying to process all of it”
She gave a small, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the documents. “Well, you're doing great, I know I just said a lot of words” she giggled, her tone soft but warm.
Over the last eight weeks, you and Tzuyu had gotten to know each other better. Your work together became a steady rhythm—casual conversations, shared laughs, and, to your delight, a shared love for music. It made the long car rides during company trips feel less like work and more like a comfortable escape.
One afternoon, while heading back to the office after a client visit, you caught Tzuyu quietly nodding along to a song from your playlist.
"You like Twice?" you asked, glancing over with mild surprise.
Tzuyu smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone here to listen to them."
"Same here," you chuckled. "You ever seen them live?"
Tzuyu turned her head, her smile growing. "Once, back in college. It was unforgettable."
"I’ve been meaning to for years but never got around to it," you replied. "Maybe next time they’re touring here."
"Maybe we can go together," she said, her voice was so forward yet soft, and the thought of seeing a concert with her lingered in the back of your mind long after the conversation ended.
That evening, after another long day, you found yourself staying late to finish some reports. Tzuyu had already called it a night, stopping by her neighboring cubicle as she prepared to leave.
"Hey, don’t stay too late," she said, offering a tired but warm smile.
"I won’t be long," you replied, stretching your shoulders. "I’ll see you tomorrow!"
"Good night, Y/n" she said, and with a soft wave, she headed out.
It was nearly an hour later when you finally finished up, the office almost eerily silent. You grabbed your things and headed out, only to find Tzuyu standing by the entrance under the building’s foyer, her arms crossed as she looked out at the rain pouring down.
You frowned, assuming she was waiting for the storm to calm down. "Seriously?" you muttered to yourself, amused that someone so seemingly put-together would forget an umbrella on a night like this. With a sigh, you walked over to her.
"Tzuyu, did you forget your umbrella?" you assumed lightly, a teasing smile on your face as you stood beside her.
Tzuyu turned toward you, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I'm just waiting for—"
"For the rain to stop?" You asked as you frantically put your stuff down on the concrete while taking off your blazer.
"You'll get sick if you try to walk home like this," you interrupted, pulling out your own red umbrella of your bag and pressing it into her hands while also throwing your blazer around her.
Tzuyu opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t give her a chance.
"Here, take mine."
Tzuyu blinked, a bit taken aback. "But what about you?"
"I’ll be fine," you said with a reassuring smile. "The bus stop is just around the corner, and so I’ll be good. Besides, this umbrella’s way too nice to just be used in a short walk!"
Tzuyu hesitated, looking between you, the umbrella, and the pre-warmed jacket around her. She opened her mouth again, probably to explain, but you waved her off, already heading toward the street. "Seriously, don’t worry about it! It looks better on you anyway!"
Before she could protest, you were jogging away, flashing her a quick cheeky smile over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tzu~!"
She stood there, the unopened red umbrella still in her hand and blazer around her as she watched you dart off toward the bus stop, your silhouette slowly disappearing in the fog of the heavy rain. Tzuyu glanced down at the umbrella, confusion flickering in her eyes.
“I .. have a driver..”
Just as she stood there, still processing what had happened, her driver finally pulled up, headlights cutting through the downpour.
"Miss Chou, I apologize for the delay—the rain's been causing awful traffic," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for her.
Tzuyu looked down at the umbrella again, momentarily lost in thought. "It’s okay, don't worry about it" she murmured, climbing into the car, the umbrella still firmly in her grip.
As the car drove off, Tzuyu’s thoughts drifted back to you—how you’d rushed off into the rain without a jacket nor without a second thought, stupidly smiling despite the storm, leaving her with your umbrella. She looked out the window as the bus drove off in the distance, watching your soaked form disappear from view, wondering about you, and why you so easily gave her the clothes off your back.
The next morning, when you arrived at the office, you saw Tzuyu already at her desk, the red umbrella propped up against your chair.
“Good morning Tzu!” You cheerfully greeted her while making your way to your respective space. 
She glanced up as you approached, her usual calm expression shifting to something more thoughtful.
"You know, you didn’t have to do all that last night," she said softly, as if she’d been thinking about it all morning. (she was)
You shrugged, giving her an easy smile. "I couldn’t let you walk in the rain like that. It’s just an umbrella and I bought that jacket from Amazon, no big deal! I’m glad you got home safe."
Tzuyu held your gaze for a moment, her eyes lingering on yours before she looked down. "Still… I appreciate it. I’ll give it back when it’s dry-cleaned"
Dry-cleaned?
"No it’s okay! Don’t worry about it," you replied, brushing off her concern with a wave of your hand. "It’s really okay!"
But as you settled into your seat, something about the exchange left an unspoken feeling between you both, small but undeniably there. You couldn’t quite shake it—the way her gaze lingered, it seemed like a quiet weight resting beside her.
And maybe, just maybe, that gesture meant more than either of you were ready to admit
Twelve weeks had passed, and you and Tzuyu had finally closed the case(successfully!) you’d been working on it for so long. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and both the third and fourth floors were buzzing with excitement. As the end-of-year office tradition dictated, Jihyo—and unfortunately, Heechul—organized a work dinner and drinks to celebrate the years successes.
Dinner started smoothly. Everyone was relaxed, conversations filled with lighthearted laughter and stories of the past few months. Tzuyu sat beside you, nursing her drink, her small, contented smile only adding to the warmth of the night.
But then, the drinks started flowing.
As the evening wore on, you noticed Heechul’s eyes repeatedly drifting toward Tzuyu. From the moment he saw her, it was clear what his intentions were. His predatory gaze, the same one you’d witnessed with other interns, made your blood simmer. He was so zeroing in.
Tzuyu, who was carefully sipping her beer, had stiffened as Heechul sauntered over with a smug grin, the two small glasses in his hand wobbling slightly from how much he’d already consumed.
“Hey, Tzuyu, right?” Heechul drawled, leaning on the table beside her. “Let’s do a love-shot. It’s for team bondinggg~” He flashed her a grin, his voice dripping with sleaze.
Tzuyu froze, glancing away uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, I don’t really drink..” she murmured, clearly looking for a way out.
“Oh, come onnn~!” Heechul leaned in closer, his body practically pinning her against the wall which happened to be your back. “Don’t be shy. It’s just one drink~!”
That was enough.
Without missing a beat, you stood from your seat, a little unsteady from your own drinks but filled with purpose. 
“Boss-nim, how about… you come here!” You feigned excitement while the whole tables’ eyes were on you two
In a few steps you guided him and you closed the distance, slipping Heechul away from Tzuyu smoothly, effortlessly blocking her from his sight with your body while wrapping your forearm around his.
“How about this, Boss-nim?” you said with a playful grin, your voice steady despite the alcohol in your system. “Why don’t we take that love-shot together!?”
You leaned in closer, one arm propped against the wall beside his head, the other smoothly taking one of the glasses from his hand.
Heechul blinked, visibly surprised but clearly intrigued by your boldness. His smirk widened. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d be so forward, Intern #5.”
God did you hate this man.
You internally rolled your eyes as you tilted your head, giving him a fake smile. “Why not? I’m a big team player, right? ” You clinked his glass, maintaining your position between him and Tzuyu.
Heechul's initial shock melted into something more. His grin grew cockier, but now with a hint of appreciation. He raised his glass, eyeing you with newfound interest. “Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”
You turned out to the table of people watching, letting the tension simmer. “To teamwork! ” You said, your voice is just loud enough for your table to hear.
Heechul clinked his glass against yours, his gaze still locked onto you. “To teamwork,” he echoed.
You both threw back the shots, and while the burn of the alcohol hit your throat, you couldn’t help but hide a face of disgust at the sight of Heechul staring at you with a mix of admiration and something else entirely.
As you set your glass down, you noticed some of the female coworkers nearby watching you both, whispering among themselves.
“Wow, did you see that?” one of them murmured, clearly impressed. “She totally flipped the situation and helped that one girl”
“Right? That was so smooth. She’s got some serious charm.”
“I think Heechul-nim’s  into her now.”
“Hell— I’m even into her now! What’s her name?”
Their whispers weren’t exactly quiet, and the compliments floated through the air, filling the space around you. You caught snippets of their words, and even in your slightly tipsy state, you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks due to flattery.
But then, you glanced at Tzuyu. Her usually soft expression was tight, her eyes focused on the table, hands gripping her drink a little too tightly. She wasn’t saying anything, but there was something in her silence—something that felt like quiet jealousy.
Before you could process it, Heechul broke the moment by leaning in toward you with a grin. “I’ve got to say, Intern #5, you’re full of surprises.”
You chuckled, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in your voice. “Gotta keep you on your toes, right boss-nim? Can’t let you make just anyone uncomfortable!” You said while slipping back into your seat
His laughter boomed through the room, seemingly laughing off that sly jab, the other colleagues joined in, you felt Tzuyu’s presence beside you, still silent, still reserved. You turned toward her, catching her gaze for just a brief moment, her eyes meeting yours before she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable.
Leaning down slightly, you whispered to her, “Hey, you okay?”
Tzuyu nodded, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just... tired. Maybe I’ll head home soon.”
“Oh! Please, I can walk you home,” you suggested, voice slightly slurred from the alcohol but laced with genuine concern.
Tzuyu glanced at you for a brief moment, her face unreadable. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice soft but clipped as she grabbed her things.
You both bowed respectfully to thank everyone for the dinner before slipping out the door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside.
The silence stretched between you as you followed behind her. Her long strides made it hard to keep up, and you couldn’t help but feel that she was walking with a certain purpose—like she was intentionally trying to get ahead of you while you were left following her like a loyal dog.
“Tzuyu-ya, what’s wrong?” you called after her, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to close the distance. She kept walking, her pace unfaltering, and for a moment, you wondered if she was genuinely trying to avoid you.
“Tzuyu-ya,” you called again, a little louder this time as she reached the edge of the bridge near her apartment. In a moment of panic, you gently grabbed her arm to stop her.
She froze.
“I’m so sorry… did I make you uncomfortable? Did you want Hee—” you started to ask, words tumbling out in your haste to apologize. Your heart sank at the mere thought that maybe you had overstepped, that maybe she had wanted to—
“Yes! You made me uncomfortable!” Tzuyu interrupted, spinning around to face you, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger.
You blinked, shocked. “I’m sorry... I thought you were trying to get away from—” Trying to explain
“You were being too cute!” Tzuyu blurted out, cutting you off again, her face flushed even darker as she averted her gaze, clearly flustered.
Your eyes widened at her sudden admission. "W-What?"
“You were being charming... in front of other women!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouting child. “Why would you do that? Are you trying to attract them? It was too charming!”
It all hit you at once. Her awkward silence, her reservedness during dinner—it wasn’t because of Heechul, it was because of you. Even through the fog of alcohol, you suddenly understood.
You took a step closer to her, your heart racing. “Tzuyu, I—” you began, but her vulnerability was so palpable in that moment, it stopped you in your tracks.
Without thinking, you reached up, cupping the right side of her face with your hand. Her skin was warm beneath your palm, and her breath hitched as your thumb gently caressed her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice low but steady. “I won’t do that again. I promise... my charm will only be saved for you, my Tzuyu.” You gave her a sweet smile
Tzuyu’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded as she looked up at you, absentmindedly nuzzling into your hand, her vulnerability so clear in the way she held your gaze. “It better be,” she murmured, though her words carried no real bite.
In that moment, the air between you felt thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread pulling you closer to her. Your heart pounded as you realized what you had/wanted to do.
Or maybe it was the alcohol in your veins? Or maybe the sheer need to kiss her right in that moment.
Tzuyu’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, but she didn’t pull away. She held your gaze, her breath shallow, her lips parted just slightly as if waiting for something—for you to make the first move.
And so, you did.
Without another word, you gently tilted her chin up with your thumb, leaning in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the warmth of her skin beneath your hand only urged you closer.
Your lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss—almost like a question. She responded with a slight, shy press of her lips against yours, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. You could feel the soft tremble of her shoulders beneath your hands, as if she was just as unsure and just as eager.
For a brief moment, the world outside disappeared—The bridge, the distant city sounds—all of it melted away.
When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you catching your breath. You felt her fingers brush against your hand, hesitant but full of meaning, as if she was silently asking, What now?
You smiled softly, your thumb tracing her cheek one last time before you whispered, “I meant it. It’s just you, my Tzuyu.”
Her lips curled into a small, bashful smile as she whispered back, “Just me.”
Maybe come Monday you’ll ask Jihyo for a permanent position on the third floor.
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Autumn, 1900
Winifred had sat at her desk all evening after dismissing herself early from dinner. Perhaps, for anyone else, this would have been queer behavior, but for a writer such as herself, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Her family was used to her abruptly dashing away from them to jot down an idea, typically followed by locking herself in her study for hours on end. But on this evening, each stroke of her quill had proven to be utterly useless, and somewhere deep down inside she knew it was because she wished she didn’t have to be writing these words. But did she have any other option? Her co-workers were accepting of her frequent tardiness and forgetfulness, and even her more outlandish ideas for the next headline, but they certainly wouldn’t want some pregnant spinster working for them; least of all JJ.  For months, she had prayed she would miraculously get her monthlies, that she had been wrong about the little one growing inside her. But, as each day passed, and she was yet bleed, it became clear she was with child again. As she sat there with her head in her hands, tears spilled over onto the page she had written explaining her 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 from The Daily. If only there were another way...
next / previous / first
transcript below the cut
<quill scraping>
Lawrence: There you are. I thought I might find you here <tik-tok, tik-tok> Winifred: Oh my, I hadn't notice the time
Lawrence: Should I not expect you to come to bed soon, then? Winifred: <sighing> I don't think so Lawrence: They work you to hard there, Winifred Don't they know I miss my wife?
Winifred: Wait...Lawrence Stop, stop I can't do this right now
Winifred: I'm sorry, I'm still not feeling well is all Lawrence: <nods> I understand Should we send for a doctor? It's been awhile now... Winifred: <shakes head> No, no. I'll be fine. Just a bit of nausea, that's all. And I truly do have work to do Lawrence: Do let me know if it gets worse. And if you're not feeling better in a few weeks, I think you should reconsider
NARRATION Lawrence places a gentle kiss on top of Winifred's head before departing. She waits to break down until she hears their bedroom door shut.
Winifred: Oh, god... What am I going to do?
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lostloveletters · 2 days
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This Must Be The Place (John Brady x OC)
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Summary: Home is a place, and a person, and a strange thing to navigate when Brady’s been away from his for so long, and Woody’s never quite had one.
Note: I really missed writing for Brady and Woody, I'm sorry it's been so long! I was thinking I'd have this done like a week ago, but then I got stuck on a scene and had to rewrite some things. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: Some angst.
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‘I’m coming home. Woody will be with me. We’re getting married.’ 
John’s letter home, sent just before their departure from England, hadn’t been that short, but the message was clear enough that by the time they were Stateside, his mother had called—paid the long distance charges and all—just to speak to him after years of anxious writing. He choked up when he heard his mother’s voice again after so long, handing the phone to Woody so he could compose himself when he felt the conversation getting away from him.
Woody’s semi-frequent correspondence with his mother, particularly after his father died, put her in her good graces, as she found the letters odd yet charming. She especially appreciated the photo of the two of them that Woody included in one of her letters—which must have been from the party for Dye’s crew when they completed their 25th mission, since she was actually wearing her WAC uniform instead of her typical coveralls in it. ‘I thought it was from a movie magazine!’ his mother gushed to him in the letter that followed.
Looking at that photo, framed and displayed on the slightly yellowing floral-patterned wall along with decades’ worth of memories, from his parents’ wedding to his childhood with his brother, made him more certain of his future with Woody than ever. 
He pulled his pipe from his mouth and sighed. Being home without his father around made him feel a bit unsettled, even though he had been greeted with hugs and kisses from just about every one of his relatives at the door. His father had been their rock, the one who kept it all together, the kind of husband and father he aspired to be someday. Turning around to look at his fiance, he tried to see her through his father’s eyes, and quickly determined he would have liked her, there was no way he couldn’t have.
Woody cleaned up damn well when she wanted to, her blonde hair had been in hot rollers and then painstakingly styled early in the morning, before they took the train into town, his brother Gene waiting at the station to drive them to Victor. She scrounged up the money to buy a new dress from a department store for the occasion—midnight blue, loose-fitting, ‘Something I can move in,’ she had told him. John wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to seeing her legs like that. Throughout the evening, his eyes drifted to the soft, flowing hem around her knees as each of his relatives fawned over her.
It wasn’t necessarily eavesdropping, not when aunts and uncles and cousins clamored over each other to speak to his future bride, who bashfully accepted their compliments and patiently entertained their questions.
“You’re from San Diego, aren’t you?”
“San Francisco, actually, but I’ve been all over.”
“San Francisco! It must be so sleepy up here to you!”
“Oh, I’m just glad to be wherever John is,” she said, glancing over at him almost shyly. “We could end up in Alaska for all I care.”
Her story of how they met won them over. The twinkle in her eye when his relatives gasped and crossed themselves when she told them of his crash landing upon arrival at Thorpe Abbotts—a detail he omitted in his letters home, it only would have been a source of unnecessary anxiety back then, but humorous and exciting in hindsight.
She’d ridden up to the wreckage of a well-executed emergency belly-landing in the truck with Ken Lemmons and the rest of the available ground crew, ready to get to work once he examined the damage. In the middle of Ken’s quick and astoundingly accurate assessment—’It really wasn’t that bad,’ she assured his enraptured family—she introduced herself to the fort’s pilot, mentioning to them how handsome she found then-Lieutenant John Brady when she first saw him.
“Love at first sight,” one of his younger cousins gasped.
“Something like that.” Woody said, light laughter in her voice. “After a while, I realized the progress on the plane wasn’t all he was interested in when he came around the hangar to watch me work.”
Their eyes met from across the modest living room’s threshold, sharing private smiles as if the dozens of people crammed inside all disappeared. 
“Can you blame me?” he finally said.
Everyone had something to say after that, all clamoring to get their two-cents in. One of his uncles patted his shoulder, "You picked a good one."
He grinned—he sure did.
The sentiment was reiterated as the larger group dispersed throughout the house. He managed to slip into the dining room to make a plate of what was left of the hors d'oeuvres his mother had set out. Cheese and crackers, some cold cuts, too. Didn't realize how much he missed things like that, savoring each bite as he stood near the kitchen, watching Woody with one of his aunts.
She slouched a bit, withered compared to how she had been entertaining everyone in the living room. 
“A lady mechanic,” his aunt marveled, “you know I can hardly believe it, but I’m sure you showed those boys a thing or two.”
“I was just glad I could do my part,” Woody said, the canned answer acceptably modest.
“Your family must be so proud of you.”
Her strained smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My parents are, um—“
“Aunt Del, I think I heard my mother asking for you,” John interrupted, setting his plate down.
“Oh, I better go see, then. Lovely talking to you, dear,” she said, patting Woody’s arm before departing the kitchen.
Woody leaned against the counter, audibly sighing in relief. She fought to blink away her exhaustion, traveling into town in the morning to keep up a facade through the evening, wanting so desperately to make a good first impression on his family, the agreeable, lovely future in-law they all wanted.
He moved in front of her, shielding her from any nosy relatives who might poke their heads in, looking for her. 
“You saved me,” she said.
“She shouldn’t be bringing it up anyway," he said. "I know my mother told them—"
"It’s a practice run for the wedding.”
“We could elope. Go to the courthouse first thing in the morning…”
She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes darting all over the room before bringing her attention back to him. "No, we couldn't," she said with finality. "It wouldn't be fair to them."
But it'd be nice. Shorten the list of things they had to worry about, though it'd just as quickly put her on his family's shit list as she managed to get in their good graces over the course of an afternoon. It almost felt too easy. Maybe that was what everyone wanted after everything that happened over the past few years, glad to finally have John home and willing to overlook any reservations about the woman he brought home with him.
“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?” he asked, gently tugging on the hem of her dress and pulling her from her thoughts.
“I feel naked without trousers on.”
“I wish you were.”
She tapped his chest with the back of her hand. “Watch it, Johnny.”
“I’m sorry we have to stay here.”
“Why?”
He nodded toward the crowded living room. “Lack of privacy, for starters.”
She shook her head, echoing her earlier sentiment. “I’m just glad to be with you.”
“As soon as we’re both working, we’ll start looking for a place. Maybe an apartment to start.”
“Your family would be okay with that?” she asked. “Us living together?”
“Probably not, but we’re engaged at least, and after the past two years, I don’t want to be without you again.”
“Me either.”
They spent the following half hour or so hiding in the kitchen before his relatives began filtering out, leaving them with hugs and well-wishes and promises to invite them over for lunch or dinner sometime. 
"Woody, it was great meeting you," Gene said, giving her a hug. "Keep an eye on this one, he might not look it, but he can be trouble."
"I'm enough trouble for the both of us, believe me," she said, retreating back to John's side.
The house was soon empty, save for the three of them, sitting in the living room with the radio playing softly in the background of the conversation between John and his mother.
Even though she brewed some coffee for them, Woody could hardly keep her eyes open. She nodded off for a moment, her mug nearly slipping from her hands.
"John, the poor thing is exhausted. Why don't you show her upstairs while I clean up? I made up your brother's old room for her."
"Thank you," Woody said. "Really, for letting me stay here. I can pay you rent, or—"
"Please, you're almost family now. And I trust you both to…" his mother struggled to find the words, almost flustered, and Woody tried her best to contain a snicker, "mind yourselves."
"Woody keeps me honest," he lied.
"Alright," she conceded with a smile. "Good night you two."
As soon as they were upstairs, they wasted no time in shoving into the bathroom together—a tight squeeze, but more than fine by them. Their respective nighttime routines peppered with kisses and soft touches while teeth were brushed and faces were washed, practically pressed against one another while sharing the limited sink space. 
They paused to look at themselves in the mirror on the wall, a domestic portrait staring back at them. He pressed his lips just below her ear, settling his chin on her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist from behind. 
Whenever she blinked, she expected it to be a dream she would wake up from, back in the barracks at Thorpe Abbotts, waiting for him to come back, worrying incessantly. But she put her hands over his and squeezed gently. Real, warm, loving. Always loving.
"I wish we didn't have to sleep in separate rooms," she mumbled.
"We'll be fine," he said. "It won't be for too long, anyway."
She wanted to say something—that it was ridiculous, they were adults for crying out loud. And after everything he especially had been through, couldn't there have been some grace, some wiggle room, all things considered? But it'd been clear through the way his family interacted with him throughout the day that they didn't know nearly as much about it as she did. Even then, there were things he kept to himself, things she'd probably never know.
Feeling almost useless, she turned around, pressing her lips to his, hoping he knew everything she couldn't say was in that kiss, in the way her blunt nails tenderly scratched his jaw. "I'll see you in the morning."
The hallway was short, the room easy enough to find with Woody's two suitcases sitting neatly next to the door, Gene having brought them up for her once they got to the house, encouraging her to unpack after the party, 'Make yourself at home.' She hesitated, more than used to living out of the two suitcases and not having much to her name anyway. She was careful when she set one of them on the bed, digging through for pajamas, a satin set consisting of an olive green camisole, matching robe, and loose, flowy pants with lace detailing around the cuffs. John bought it for her when they were in Manhattan, insisting his family would think he wasn't taking good care of her if she puttered around in her old PT shirt and men's pajama bottoms. Felt like they spent half the money they had on hand to buy new clothes, so they'd be real people and blend in with all the rest. 
His mother made up the room beautifully for Woody—the soft, worn linens smelled faintly of detergent, but mostly of home, something she heard plenty of people refer to when the scent of a certain blend of tobacco or freshly cut grass was in the air, but never quite understood until she got under the covers and immediately thought of John.
Settling on her side, she stared at the wall between them, like if she looked at it long enough, she'd be able to see through it, see him. One measly wall, nothing compared to two years and thousands of miles, but she still missed him terribly.
She wrapped her arms around her middle in a weak attempt to comfort herself and closed her eyes. She couldn't find sleep behind them despite her earlier exhaustion, her racing thoughts keeping her awake.
The door creaked open, and she sat up on her elbows, brows furrowed in confusion until John closed the door behind him.
“Are you out of your mind? Your mother could come up here any minute and—“
“It’s not that…I can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed. They’d spent the past few weeks practically attached at the hip, from the time he arrived back at Thorpe Abbotts, on the ship from England to New York, to the guilty weekend in a Manhattan hotel room. Even in the familiar walls of his childhood bedroom, he tossed and turned when left to face the night alone.
“Oh, Johnny,” she cooed, extending her arms to him. “Come here.”
He curled up into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She silently cradled him until she felt hot tears on her skin.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly.
“‘m sorry."
“Don’t ever apologize. I love you.”
“I love you.” He held her tighter, the way he would cling to a teddy bear when he was a boy, too young to face his fears on his own but too old to seek the comfort of his parents for it. “I love you so much.”
In an attempt to calm him down, she stroked his hair. It wouldn’t look great, his mother finding them entangled in bed together or catching him sneaking out of her room. She didn’t seem like an unreasonable woman, though. Surely she would understand that seeking comfort wasn’t a sin—nothing they did was, not when there was love at the root of it all.
“Go to sleep,” Woody whispered, though she could tell by his steady breathing he already was. “I’ll be here in the morning.”
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callsign-muffin · 16 hours
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Heal Together: Chapter 6
(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)
Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.
I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!
Masterlist + Playlist
Word Count: 2.2k+
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You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.
Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise
You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises
“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”
You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”
“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”
You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”
“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.
You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”
“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”
You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”
It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.
Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”
You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”
She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”
“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.
“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.
“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.
“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.
You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”
“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 
Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.
Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.
You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.
When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.
“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”
This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.
█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 
Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.
Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant you were most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for you to wake up to.
Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)
“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.
Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”
“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”
“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”
She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”
Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”
“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.
“Am not.” He quipped back.
“ Are too!” She shoved him.
“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.
She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”
Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”
She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”
“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”
Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.
Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.
“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”
Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”
Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”
Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.
Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”
2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.
Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?
Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?
Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.
Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?
This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 
Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?
Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)
Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 
When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.
“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”
“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”
He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”
“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.
He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.
Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  
He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”
She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”
“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”
“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”
He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”
█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 
The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.
“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”
You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”
“You’re not a runner?” He asked.
“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.
A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.
“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.
His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”
You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.
It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”
He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”
Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”
“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.
You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.
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mariacallous · 1 day
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Last weekend, former President Donald Trump posted another anti-immigrant screed to Truth Social. It would have been unremarkable ― at least, graded on the Trumpian curve of extreme xenophobia ― except for one word.
“[We will] return Kamala’s illegal migrants to their home countries (also known as remigration),” he wrote. “I will save our cities and towns in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and all across America.”
Many people might have glossed over his use of “remigration.” White nationalists did not.
“#Remigration has had a massive conceptual career,” Martin Sellner — leader of the Austrian chapter of Generation Identity, a pan-European white supremacist network — tweeted in his native German. “Born in France, popularized in German-speaking countries and now the term of the hour from Sweden to the USA!”
It was a succinct and accurate history from Sellner, a 35-year-old who typically trafficks in vicious lies and conspiracy theories, particularly about Black and brown people. He has been at the vanguard of pushing “remigration” — a euphemism for ethnically cleansing non-white people from Western countries — into the popular political lexicon in Europe.
Now Sellner was seeing his favorite little word all grown up, moving overseas in service of the 45th president of the United States, who has promised to implement the largest mass deportation of immigrants in U.S. history if elected back to the White House in six weeks’ time.
Trump’s use of “remigration” is the latest instance of the GOP’s intensifying anti-immigrant rhetoric in the run-up to November’s election, underscoring the degree to which one of America’s two major political parties is sourcing many of its talking points and policy ideas directly from neo-fascists.
“Trump’s rhetoric about ‘remigration’ has its origins in the international far-right,” Jakob Guhl, a senior manager of policy and research at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, explained to HuffPost in an email. “The term remigration was popularized by groups adhering to Identitarianism, a pan-European ethno-nationalist movement, as their policy to reverse the so-called ‘great replacement.’”
“The great replacement theory is a conspiracy theory which claims that ‘native’ Europeans are being deliberately replaced through non-European migration while suppressing European birth-rates,” he continued. “This theory has inspired numerous terrorist attacks, including the Christchurch massacre, where 51 people were killed, as well as attacks in Poway, El Paso, Halle, Buffalo, and Bratislava.”
Pat Buchanan, the onetime presidential hopeful and former aide to President Richard Nixon, used the term “remigration” to whitewash his own call for ethnic cleansing as early as 2006, in his racist tract “State of Emergency: The Third World Invasion and Conquest of America.” But the term’s journey into the Trump campaign’s vernacular more likely got its start in November 2014, when 500 far-right activists gathered in Paris.
The inaugural Assises de la Remigration, or Annual Meeting on Remigration, was organized by Generation Identity. Its featured speaker was Renaud Camus, the travel writer-turned-philosopher who coined the term “great replacement” in his 2012 book by the same name. Camus’ book built off the work of another French author, Jean Raspail, who wrote “The Camp of the Saints,” an extraordinarily racist French novel that depicts a flotilla of feces-eating brown people invading Europe.
“The Great Replacement is the most serious crisis that France has witnessed in 15 centuries,” Camus told the crowd, eliding many bloody episodes in the country’s history, including a pair of world wars that killed nearly 2 million French people. For Camus, “remigration” was the best solution to the imagined crisis of the “great replacement,” the two terms essentially joined at the hip.
Camus and his fellow subscribers to identitarianism “have always been quite clear that the objective of ‘remigration’ is to create greater ‘ethnocultural’ homogeneity,” Ruhl told HuffPost. “For them, culture and ethnicity are inseparable, and they view (white) European identity as being fundamentally threatened by the presence of migrants ― necessitating drastic, far-reaching responses.”
According to a study by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, the term “remigration” was “used over 540,000 times between April 2012 and April 2019” on Twitter, particularly from accounts in France and Germany. Usage of the term skyrocketed after the Annual Meeting on Remigration in Paris. Camus himself was one of the main promoters of the word online.
As “remigration” became an increasingly discussed term, militant far-right groups adapted it as their own. In 2017, police in France arrested 10 far-right activists over a suspected plot to kill politicians and migrants and to attack mosques. Officers found a shotgun and two revolvers in the home of the group’s ringleader, who’d sought to create a militia, according to a post on Facebook, to kill “arabs, blacks dealers, migrants, [and] jihadist scum.” Per French investigators, the group, known as OAS, was formed to “spark remigration.”
The term made an appearance in Canada, too, where a far-right fight club called Falange — named for the fascist group that served under the Spanish general Francisco Franco during the Spanish Civil War — put signs with the word “Remigration” across Quebec City.
And that same year in the U.S., the group Identity Evropa — modeled after Generation Identity in Europe — burst into the public consciousness for its participation in the deadly white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. Identity Evropa’s proposed policies included “remigration,” and when its members marched in Charlottesville, they invoked the “great replacement” concept, chanting “You will not replace us.”
Back in Europe, in March 2019, Sellner started a channel on the chat app Telegram called the “European Compact for Remigration,” the beginning of a campaign, he announced, to influence far-right parties across Europe to support “de-Islamisation” and “remigration.”
That same month, a white supremacist in Christchurch, New Zealand, livestreamed himself walking into two mosques and opening fire, killing 51 Muslim worshipers. He’d posted a genocidal screed online before the shooting. Its title was “The Great Replacement.” Nevertheless, one week after the shooting, Sellner’s Generation Identity group in Austria staged a protest against the “great replacement,” again calling for “de-Islamisation” and “remigration.”
A couple of months later, it emerged that the shooter in New Zealand had communicated with Sellner only a year prior, donating over $2,300 to Sellner’s white supremacist group. “Thank you that really gives me energy and motivation,” Sellner wrote to the shooter in an email.
“If you ever come to Vienna,” Sellner added, “we need to go for a café or a beer.”
Despite these revelations, Sellner’s efforts to get far-right political parties to support remigration started to see results in the following years. In 2019, Alternative for Deutschland — which recently became the first far-right party since the Nazis to win a state election in Germany — inserted “remigration” into its list of official policy proposals.
Four years later, an investigation from Correctiv found that AfD members held a secret meeting with neo-Nazis and wealthy businesspeople to discuss the “remigration” of asylum seekers, immigrants with legal status, and “unassimilated citizens” to a “model state” in North Africa. The plan — which bore an unnerving resemblance to the Nazis’ initial idea to mass-deport Jews to Madagascar, before they settled on a wholesale extermination campaign — was Sellner’s brainchild.
That same year, as noted recently by Mother Jones, a jury of linguists in Germany selected “remigration” as the “non-word” of the year. “The seemingly harmless term remigration is used by the ethnic nationalists of the AfD and the Identitarian Movement to conceal their true intentions: the deportation of all people with supposedly the wrong skin color or origin, even if they are German citizens,” one guest juror wrote.
Mother Jones also noted that earlier this year, “an AfD candidate in Stuttgart campaigned with the slogan ‘Rapid remigration creates living space,’ a nod to the concept of Lebensraum used by the Nazis to justify the genocidal expansion into Eastern Europe.”
And finally, this year in Austria, the far-right Freedom Party (FPOe), founded after World War II by former Nazis, and which recently enjoyed success in national elections, called for the creation of a “remigration commissioner” in the country.
Still, very few, if any, U.S. politicians have uttered the word “remigration” in recent years. Trump’s use of the term stateside has coincided with his renewed embrace of dehumanizing language when talking about immigrants.
The former president’s promotion of a false story about Haitian immigrants eating pets in Ohio was classic fascist fare, depicting an entire category of people as savages. And earlier this year, the GOP nominee said immigrants were “poisoning the blood” of the nation. Historians quickly noted that Trump’s language echoed the words of Adolf Hitler. “All great cultures of the past perished only because the originally creative race died out from blood poisoning,” Hitler wrote in “Mein Kampf.”
But who in Trump’s orbit might have introduced him to the term “remigration”? The Trump campaign didn’t immediately respond to HuffPost’s request for comment. One possible culprit, though, might be Stephen Miller, who served in the Trump White House as an adviser and speechwriter. Miller’s ties to white supremacists are legion, and while working as an editor at Breitbart in 2015, according to leaked emails obtained by the Southern Poverty Law Center, he suggested the website publish articles about “The Camp of the Saints,”the racist French novel that inspired Renaud Camus.
Miller, like Sellner, was thrilled with Trump’s use of “remigration” last weekend.
“THE TRUMP PLAN TO END THE INVASION OF SMALL TOWN AMERICA: REMIGRATION!” he tweeted.
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