#kpop x you imagines

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[babyleostuff]

kissing them mid argument | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

instantly forgets what you were fighting about AND will chase your lips with his. cheol usually argues until the end, but when it comes to you, it doesn't matter if the blame falls on him (even though he didn't do anything) - as long as he can go back to hugging, kissing and suffocating you with his love, he’s a 100% fine with taking the blame (okay, who’re we kidding - he’ll be a bit sulky). you’d keep apologising to each other with his forehead resting on yours, and whisper quiet "i love you’s" that cheol would seal with his pouty lips on yours. 

❥ jeonghan 

jeonghan would roll his eyes, one - to tease you, two - to hide how shy your kiss made him. his cheeks would turn into a pretty shade of pink but he’d quickly try to distract you with a sarcastic remark or gaslight you that you’re the one that got shy, just to hide his reaction. at the end though, hannie would grab your hand, pulling you closer to him, and place a soft kiss on your lips. "you're lucky that i love you, because normally i would have kicked you out of the house by now."

❥ joshua 

shy at first then turns into a little menace. he’d try to turn it all against you and probably start chasing you around the apartment so he could kiss you back (a perfect way to put that awful argument behind you, since it was about something silly anyway). shua would still have a slight blush on his cheeks when he gets you, wrapping you in a big hug, as you’d try to wriggle yourself out of his grip. soon your living room would be filled with giggles and laughs. 

❥ jun 

turns into a shy and blushy bean, which always happens when you kiss him out of the blue. jun was just so focused on the argument and careful not to raise his voice at you that he totally didn’t catch the moment you grabbed him by his hoodie, smashing your lips into his. he’d thank his lucky stars for your kiss, he absolutely hated fighting with you, and nothing felt better than feeling your lips on his, your body close to his chest, and your hands cupping his face. 

❥ hoshi 

he’d grin so widely it’d be almost impossible, with the corners of his eyes scrunched adorably - soonyoung is a number one fan of your skinship and physical affection, and you kissing him is a cherry on top no matter what - even if you’re arguing. not a second would go by, and hoshi would pull you back, kissing you all over your face as both of you would erupt in a fit of giggles and soft smiles. just for funsies, soonyoung would try to start an “argument” with you just so you’d kiss him again.   

❥ wonwoo 

malfunctiones for a hot second. just kind of stands there and blinks - no thoughts, head empty. all his rational arguments would fly out of his head and he wouldn't know what to do with himself. "yes, well.. um." then he could react in two ways - either his ears would turn red with embarrassment, or he would snap at you with the "what the hell do you think you are doing." (with love of course). wonwoo just doesn't always know how to react to your affection.

❥ woozi 

jihoon can’t help but smile - he thinks you’re the cutest and most adorable thing ever. after he realises how widely he’s smiling, he scoffs and shakes his head in disapproval, just to hide how giddy and fluffy you made him feel with such a small thing. “do you think this will end the fight?” just give him another kiss and he’s gone - the fight is forgotten, there is no way jihoon will take this argument seriously anymore, thanks to you and your cute antics. what can i say, he has THE biggest soft spot for you. 

❥ dk 

he’s face would scream “kiss me again, please?” one of the things seokmin hates the most is fighting with you - even if it’s just a small everyday argument - he can’t handle that, so he’s so so happy and relieved when you kiss him. the second you pull away you’re met with his puppy eyes and an adorable pout, so you don’t have much choice but to kiss him again. your fight would quickly turn into a soft makeout session, filled with gentle kisses and apologies, though neither of you really knew what you were apologising for at this point.  

❥ mingyu 

sulky baby because he was about to say the best argument in his life, happy that he could finally stand up for himslef (though he knew he wouldn’t have won that fight either way). but to be honest, gyu would just be relieved that the fight was over, and if he wasn't so focused on kissing you back, smashing his lips into yours, he’d probably do a victory lap around the apartment. his puppy eyes would be sparkling with nothing but love and excitement, delighted that he could go back to being his usual clingy mingoo self.   

❥ minghao 

would ignore your kiss at first and keep on fighting with you, adamant on proving his point. he’d ignore the next three kisses as well, still babbling about whatever you were fighting about. by the fifth kiss, hao would start to lose his train of thoughts, and he’d start stuttering a bit, trying to remember what he wanted to say. then the sixth and seventh kiss would come, and that’s when he’d give up on the fight. “cute,” he’d mutter with a soft smile, and finally kiss you back. 

❥ seungkwan 

“i’ll give you a kiss later, just let me finish.” very adamant on finishing the fight although he’d completely forget what he wanted to say, all thanks to your kiss, (but boo would still continue to babble even though it wouldn’t make much sense). then he’d just kind of catch himself making no sense, and he’d just laugh and kiss you back, your fight long forgotten (just as you’d be about to fall asleep he’d remember what he wanted to say, and would keep you up for the next hour just so he could finish the argument). 

❥ vernon 

malfunctiones #2. “okay, but does that mean we’re done fighting?” just stands there trying to process what had just happened, because a second ago you were arguing, and now you were kissing him? a bit confused, but relieved at the same time - vernon hates fighting with you, and it doesn’t really matter to him who takes the blame - he could honestly take the whole blame if that meant the fight was over. he’d think about that lil kiss for the rest of the day, he’d even catch himself smiling at the thought of it in the middle of practice.   

❥ chan 

blushes furiously, and hides his head in your neck. “you can’t kiss me like that, we’re fighting!” he’d mumble, although you knew he had forgotten about the argument the second your lips touched his - chan was just too shy to admit that. turns into a little cutie, because even though your relationship is filled with surprise kisses, and out of the blue hugs, they always make him shy and so fuzzy on the inside, and he can’t help but blush as every coherent thought leaves his mind.

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[frmisnow]

˙✧˖ ?! — KEEPING YOU IN BED (CAUSE I'M DOWN BED). - MDNI !!!

— ‧₊˚ — 🍵 : "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"??"

summary. going to work on your boyfriends single day-off already sounds like a death sentence, things only become worse when he makes it especially hard to leave the bed.

notes. SLEEPY HORNY KOOK AASHHSSHSH my roman empire... 😭 SORRY FOR THE TITLE I HAD A LIL GIGGLE OKAY ???

warnings/includes: (NSFW) dom! jungkook x f! sub! reader, starts sleepy + wholesome, turns a lil unhinged..., pounding, overstimulation, he's just a bit mean in second half (but we love it)

you rub your eyes, the morning sunlight blinding you through the sheer curtains - soft and rhythmic breathing audible beside you when you look over you find your boyfriend's chest rising and falling slowly, one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, in pure peace still somewhere in the deep roams of sleep.

after all it was his day off, a rare sanctuary in the hectic schedule of hislife, and yet, there you were, inching away from the warmth of his embrace, preparing to face the day ahead.

but as you attempted to free yourself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, a sleepy murmur escaped him, a half-formed quiet plea, "just few more minutes" His arm instinctively tightened around your waist, drawing you back into his tight hug, nuzzling his face to your middle body. quick little peeks placed all over tummy, almost like rubbing his face over you, his hands lazily tracing circles over your sides, "just a little longer"

he shifts his position, now completly lying over you, trapping and preventing you from leaving, wrapping his arms around your neck, "love you so much" whispered into your nape.

you giggled in response, your hands hugging his back, travelling under his shirt, rubbing over the skin gently, "you're trying everything to lure me in longer huh"

kook smiled sleeply against your skin, his head moved to your shoulder so he could look at your face better, lips roaming over your collarbone, settling on them for a split second, "is it working?"

"don't know, might have to try a bit harder" you answered in a joking tone, your fingers tracing light patterns on his back.

he squints his eyes, a faint smile on his face, raising his eyebrows, "oh really?" fake innocence added into his tone.

you were stupid.

in fact very much so.

out of experience you should've known that jungkook has an unbelievable amount of sheer competitivness inside him and if you unleash that - you're pretty much fucked.

you should've recognized that familar grin, you should've recognized those wandering hands of his that would do anything just to prove you wrong, just to remind you that nobody doubts him without well- consequences!

those consequences may include: him in the beginning softly manhandling you (in his own way y'know) which turns into him throwing away any sense of tiredness or gentleness he had before, sentences like "feel me fuckin pounding, listen to it" or "so much fuckin cum" rolling over his tongue as he overstimulates you over and over again.

damn well keeping that clock on the night stand at the corner of his eyes, just to rub it into your face, "how easy it was to get you to do this" or "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"

and oh he's looking for answers from you too, "what are you gonna tell your boss now?" half mumbeled half groaned as he slams into you once more chasing that 3rd orgasm, obviously knowing you're way to brainfucked to understand think about even responding.

"should've kept your fucking mouth shut, don't you think?" and all you can do in response is whimper and moan like a little bitch.

weirdly enough that's what satisfies him - the slutty expression on your face, the way your mouth stays slightly parted, the way your pussy tightens around him, the way your tits just fit so easily in his hands like they were made for him (which he'll openly say 2!), the way you sound, the way your body looks when he fucks you senseless - everything about you like this is so endearing to him and worth repeating over and over again.

he can be real sweet after, acting like it never even happened, bringing you breakfast to bed while you were lying bare trying to regain your brain acess again, innocently saying smth along the lines of: "i called you in sick for today" then adding, "it's not like it's worth going anyway might just spend the day with me" okay whatever you say kook :3

[sluttywoozi]

This Is Devotion | csc x f!reader

You've spent your whole life taking care of yourself. Seungcheol thinks it's time someone else took over.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.0k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: alcohol mention (they meet at a bar), daddy kink, sugar daddy vibes but he’s a bf first, fingering, praise kink, v light choking, condomless piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink and impreg kink but mainly at the end, wants to wife you up fr

Reader Notes: eldest daughter, on birth control, gets carried by cheol

Seungcheol didn’t really expect to meet the love of his life at a bar on a regular Friday night, but as soon as he saw you, he knew you were something special. And as soon as he spoke to you, got to know you, he knew he wanted to learn more. 

The way you carried yourself didn’t make you seem the most receptive - you were closed off, seemingly disinterested, but when he started to back away, intending to let you enjoy your night without him as you appeared to want, you got this look in your eye like he was doing exactly the opposite of what you desired. 

So he stuck around, asked if he could buy you a drink, keeping a respectful distance between your body and his even though he felt like you were a celestial being with your own gravity pulling him in. He learned a lot about you that night - what you do for work, what you do for fun, whether you’d be open to him taking you out - but he didn’t learn what it was that made you so standoffish when he first approached you. 

That didn’t come until later, until the fourth date and the family talk. Over a dinner he spent hours preparing, you told him that you were the eldest of three children, and that you’d practically raised your younger siblings yourself. Your parents worked hard, too hard to spend much time or energy on you, so you raised yourself too. 

You took on two jobs to pay for college because most of your family’s money was spent on your younger siblings' extracurriculars, and you graduated with honors but with no one to cheer for you, to celebrate you. They were all too busy, apparently, though Seungcheol didn’t know what could possibly be more important than you reaping the reward of all the effort and stress you had put into your schooling. 

He tried to tell you that you deserved better, but you were adamant that you were used to taking care of yourself, to being alone. You said that the friends you made along the way were your new family and that they treated you better than you deserved. 

Seungcheol could have talked until he was blue in the face about just what it was he thought you deserved. 

He knew you wouldn’t hear it though, so he took it upon himself to show you instead. 

It wasn’t long after that date that he asked if he could be your boyfriend, and as soon as you said yes, he vowed to himself that as long as you kept him around, you would know what it was to be taken care of. 

He started slow. First, it was making sure your car always had gas and your oil changes were always up to date. You used to drive it almost to empty, and he knew that was bad for both your fuel pump and your stress levels, so he would pop into your work every so often to bring you your favorite little treat and grab your keys to fill it up. You always gave him your credit card and he always took it, but never once did he make use of it. 

Once you grew accustomed to that, he moved on to being your driver for girl’s night out. You would always text him while you were in the uber so he knew you were safe, but after one too many sleazy guys flirted with you and your friends, he stepped in. You had already shared locations with each other (again, for safety reasons), so when you texted him that you were gearing up to go, he told you to cancel the ride and look for his car instead. 

He drove every one of your friends home and saw them up to their door before taking you back to your apartment, lovingly removing your makeup, and getting you into pajamas. He tried to tuck you in and leave, but you caught his hand and tugged him into bed with you, snuggling up under his arm before promptly knocking out. Knowing that you felt safe enough to fall asleep with him was his favorite form of payment. 

You had one, maybe two outings a month, and Seungcheol was happy to keep those nights clear of plans so he could make sure you and all your friends got home safely. It was just a bonus that every one of those nights turned into a sleepover with you wrapped up in his arms, warm and soft against him.  

It wasn’t until a few months in that he started spending more money on you. He loved to buy you snacks and milk teas and lip gloss but he knew there were things you wanted that were simply out of your budget. He also knew you would never let him pay your rent so you could buy those things, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy them for you. So he would take you out shopping under the pretense of needing something new himself, keeping an eye on what your eye lingered on and making note of it in his mind. 

The first purchase was a necklace you loved so much, the sight of it made you gasp. He was getting his watch repaired and you had wandered off to look around, and when he heard that gasp he knew instantly that whatever it was, it would be yours. It took him all of two minutes to flag an employee down, ask them to package up the item you loved, and add it to his total. 

When he presented it to you, you tried to say it was too much, that you couldn’t accept such a gift. He pouted until you sighed and moved your hair out of the way, allowing him to put the necklace on you and smiling a small, pleased smile as you felt at the delicate chain and pendant. 

After that came dresses and shoes and cookware and other things you would never let yourself splurge on but you also wouldn’t want to say no to. You worried for his finances but Seungcheol was a smart spender before you, and he earned and saved enough that every gift for you barely made a dent. It was money he was happy to spend, especially when he got to see you wearing or using the things he bought you. 

You would joke and say he wasn’t just your boyfriend but your sugar daddy, and he laughed, at first. 

Then, he thought about it more, thought about how he lived to take care of you, to show you what you deserved, to make sure you were happy and healthy and safe, and he realized that maybe he was your sugar daddy, in a way. 

Hearing you call him daddy for the first time still almost sends him to an early grave, though. 

It happens when he’s balls deep inside of you. Your thighs are hitched up high on his waist and your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding him close enough he has to brace himself on his forearms and fold his knees on either side of your hips. It’s not like that’s a hardship, not when he can press his forehead to yours and breathe your air, staring into your eyes as he fucks in and out of you, your pussy perfectly formed around his aching cock. 

He loves feeling close to you like this, and the closeness is the only reason he hears it. 

“Daddy,” you sigh, in the smallest voice he’s ever heard from you. 

He stills immediately, his dick throbbing and leaking inside of you as he tries to hold off his orgasm, his heart thumping so hard in his chest, he’s fearful it’ll jump out of his ribcage and straight into yours. 

“What did you say?” He asks, because he’s sure there’s no way you called him that, independent and self-reliant as you are. 

“Nothing,” you respond much too quickly, and he wants to press further, but your voice is nervous and your face is tense, and he doesn’t want to push you if you’re not ready. 

So he keeps going, fucks you until you cum and then fills you up, dragging you into the shower after so he can rinse you clean and get you into some warm pajamas.

Seungcheol wakes before you the next day, uses the time to stare at you and think everything through. 

You’ve always had to take care of yourself, always had to fill other cups before your own, until he came along. Over the year and a half that he’s spent with you, he’s made every effort to take the load off, to tend to you in ways that you’ve never experienced before. You’ve softened up over time, gotten used to him protecting and nurturing you, and you’ve rewarded him with your trust and your love. 

It makes sense that you would call him daddy, and it makes sense that he would fucking adore it. 

So when you start to stir, he tucks you closer to him, your back aligned with his front and his hardening cock pressed into the plush of your ass. One arm is draped over your waist, his hand covering your breast, and his other arm is stretched out beneath your neck, bent at the elbow to band over your chest and hold your shoulder. You’re completely wrapped up in him, and as soon as you hum and tilt your hips back into his, he kisses up your neck and murmurs, “Let me take care of you, baby. Let daddy do the work, huh?” 

You gasp and wriggle in his hold, but he hugs you tighter and says, “That’s what you called me last night, right? I don’t mind, sweetheart.” 

“Are you sure it’s not… weird?” You whisper quietly, and he can picture the anxious expression you must be wearing. He gently sinks his teeth into your neck before responding, “It’s not weird to me, baby. You know I love taking care of you.”

You relax muscle by muscle, and by the time his hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up and out, you’re boneless against him. “Can you hold that leg up for me, honey? I’m gonna touch you.”

“Okay, daddy,” you sigh sweetly as you take over for him, his entire body lighting up at the sound of you saying that word with such ease. 

You’re drenched when he slides his fingers between your legs, pushing aside your pajama shorts to touch you bare and groaning at the feeling of your soaking heat. His fingertips glide as he drags them from your entrance up to your clit, soft little sounds escaping you when he presses circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

He thinks this might be the wettest you’ve ever been for him, and he luxuriates in the feeling of having cracked your code, of knowing that you’ve never been more open or trusting with him before. It means he’ll have to treat you delicately, but Seungcheol is nothing if not devoted, dedicated, committed to being everything you could ever need.

He works you up just like this, with his fingertips soft on your clit and his lips gentle on your neck, mumbling little promises about how daddy will always make you feel good, always love you, always put you first. 

“I want you inside, daddy,” you cry, and he feels himself throb against you, leaking in his boxers and desiring you more than the air he breathes. 

“Cum for me first, baby, I know you can do it.”

To help you along, he slips two fingers inside of you, his thumb taking over on your clit, pressing insistently as his fingers curl, searching for the spot that always makes you gush. He finds it quickly, grinding with his fingertips as he wraps his other hand around the base of your neck, barely squeezing. A grin stretches his lips when you start to move with him, your walls clenching down on his digits as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

He knows you’re right there by the sounds escaping you, by the way your cunt is fluttering around his fingers, by the arousal seeping out with every dig into your sweet spot. It’s really just a matter of timing and luck that you break when he says, “You’re such a good girl for daddy, show me how good you are and cum.”

The whine you let out is enough to have him bucking into you, the sound so plaintive and vulnerable that he wants to wrap you up tight in his arms and never let you go. Your pussy weeps around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and squeezing in pulses, your walls gripping them strongly enough that he feels the phantom pressure around his cock. 

“So fucking perfect, so sweet and beautiful and wet for me, baby. Fuck, I love you,” Seungcheol pants into your throat, dotting the soft skin with kisses and little bites. 

“I love you. Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You try to turn your head to look at him and he breathes, “Yes, baby,” before freeing his fingers with a slick sound and sucking them into his mouth. He hums at the taste of you as he shifts away, giving you enough space to roll onto your back and kneeling between your legs when you spread them. 

He’s fucked you from behind before and he will again, but right now he wants to gaze into your eyes, watch your lips form around the word he didn’t know he’s been aching to hear. 

You’re too pretty for him to not look at you anyway, especially as he tugs one thigh up around his waist and pushes the other up to your belly. He loves getting you into position, loves the way you stare trustingly at him and let him move you, loves knowing that you believe he’ll never do anything but bring you pleasure. 

He tucks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down, grinning bashfully and feeling his ears heat as your eyes immediately drop to his cock. He’s insanely hard for you, flushed and leaking and desperate, and he feels himself twitch when you whimper, “Daddy, please, I need you so bad.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll always give you what you need,” he promises, pushing your pajama shorts to the side again and taking hold of his dick to line himself up. 

He can’t resist gliding the head of his cock through your wet folds, grinding into your clit before sliding down and starting to sink inside. A groan escapes without his permission but he doesn’t try to swallow it, wants you to know what you do to him, how you make him feel. 

Being surrounded, enveloped by you is the best sensation in the world, the grip of your wet heat dizzying and comforting and more than enough to drive him crazy, no matter how many times he’s felt you before. 

Your cunt is heaven on earth, like nothing else he’s ever experienced, and he considers it his sacred duty to make sure you never forget that. 

“Perfect fucking pussy, baby, god,” he moans, barely halfway inside of you and already feeling the flames of pleasure licking at his spine. 

You flutter around him at his words, your arms rising to wrap around his neck and draw him in close, mirroring the exact position he had you in last night.

You must realize it too because your breath hitches before you tilt your head up and gently press your lips to his, mumbling, “Daddy,” into his mouth as he finally bottoms out. It makes him twitch inside of you, makes his hips roll into yours, makes his heart feel so full, it aches. 

He almost can’t bear to leave you but he knows he’ll have to if he wants to fuck you, so with only a little reluctance, he draws back, fighting a shiver when cold air hits the wetness on his cock. 

You dig your heel into his ass and urge him forward, your eyes needy and your gasp desperate as he bucks into you and fills you again. You used to need some time to adjust to him, but you take him often enough now that he can move within you smoothly, your generous arousal easing the way even as your walls cling to him. 

The rhythm he sets is slow, measured, but he slides in deep and hooks his hips up on the way out to drag over your sweet spot, your pussy just getting wetter and wetter around him. The sounds are obscene, the slap of his hips meeting your ass and the squelch of his cock reaching the end of you loud compared to the peaceful silence of the early morning. 

Every time he gets inside of you feels like the first but is somehow better than the last, and he knows that doesn’t make sense but he’s senseless when it comes to you anyway, his logic and reasoning replaced by tenderness and infatuation. It’s even worse now that there’s this added facet of caring, of responsibility, this knowledge that you’re entrusting him with a side of you he’s sure no one has ever seen before. 

“How is it, baby?” His voice is ragged, tight and rough with lust when he speaks, but his tone is as gentle and loving as his thrusts are. 

A minute passes before you can respond and he practically watches the words form in your head, his gaze heavy on you as you put them together letter by letter. 

“So good, daddy, you make me feel… whole,” you sigh blissfully, your fingers twirling the hair at the nape of his neck and your inner muscles clenching around him. 

He can’t hold back the shiver this time, not when your response floods him with greedy affection and a covetous sense of possession, one that goes both ways. He belongs to you as much as you belong to him, and he knows you belong together just like he knows that the sky is blue and the earth is round. 

It’s frightening, almost, to think that there’s nothing on this planet that he loves more than he loves you. But it’s worth the risk, worth the vulnerability, worth the fear to get to be the one who makes you feel whole. He can’t help but hope he’ll be the only one who does for the rest of your life. 

Which is a dangerous vein of thought considering the fact that he already has a 3 carat diamond ring hidden in his study, just waiting to be slid onto your left fourth finger. 

He’s inches from disentangling himself from you to go get it, but this is neither the time nor the place. 

Instead, he leans in and ardently locks his lips with yours, breathing into you all of his passion, all of his sincerity. You kiss him back like you can taste it, adjusting your leg around his waist so you can hold him closer, his movements in and out turning into a slow, dirty grind. 

“Love you so fucking much,” he murmurs into your mouth, his mouth stretching in a grin when you mumble back to him, “Love you more, Cheollie.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby,” he chuckles brokenly, pleasure starting to knot low in his belly, his cock growing harder and his balls tightening as he gets closer and closer. 

“Agree to disagree,” you laugh breathlessly, tugging his hair and gasping sharply when he snakes one hand between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit. 

You squeeze down around him, your pussy molding to his cock like he was made for you, made to fill you where you’re empty, and fuck, he’s sure he was. Every part of him was built for loving you, there’s no other explanation for how flawlessly you fit in his arms, his life, his heart. 

He can tell you’re nearing the edge, your walls spasming and your eyes glazing over, and he holds off his own release even as it spools in his stomach like molten twine. Breaking before you simply isn’t an option; breaking after you is, but he knows well that any nirvana he could reach is infinitely better when he reaches it with you. 

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? For daddy? I’ll fuck you full of my cum if you do,” he promises darkly, already envisioning himself spreading your legs and watching his seed seep out of your stretched pussy. 

“Yeah, daddy, I’m- I’m-” 

A weak cry cuts you off, your mouth stuck open as tears dampen your lashes and leak down your temples. Your cunt clamps down around him in pulses, so hot and wet and tight that it draws out his own orgasm, his heart pounding as his cock jerks and spurts cum deep inside of you, so deep he wonders if it’ll stick. You’re on birth control but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to make you his wife then breed you full, get you pregnant, leave no room for doubt that he both loves you and fucks you like you deserve. 

The thought makes him hard enough to keep going, to grind into you and push his cum even deeper inside, his fingers still swirling circles around your sensitive clit. It’s not long before you’re digging your nails into his shoulders and keening for him, your thighs shaking and your back arching off the bed as you fall to pieces again. 

He slides his arm beneath your shoulders and hefts you up against him, burying his face in your neck and holding you close as he cums inside of you for the second time. This one leaves him a bit teary eyed too, thoughts and wishes and desires racing through his mind, visions of the life you could share making him swallow down a sob. 

You sense the shift in his emotions, your fingers carding through his hair and your voice soft as you tell him that you love him, that you always will, that you’ll spend all the rest of your life making sure he knows. 

Seungcheol feels like this is his job but the comfort you bring him is worth admitting that he can be just as needy as you. 

He stays tangled up with you for what feels like ages, long enough for the sweat on his back to dry and the arm underneath you to fall asleep, and when he emerges, he feels like a new man. 

A new man that still wants to lay between your thighs and watch his cum leak out of you. 

You’re not shy about it anymore, happy to let your legs fall open and drag your nails over his scalp as he rests his head on your soft inner thigh, his eyes locked on your glistening cunt. 

“Prettiest pussy in the whole wide world,” he mumbles dazedly before glancing up at your face and correcting himself, “Prettiest baby in the whole wide world.”

Minutes pass before you squirm in discomfort and he peels himself away, accepting that it’s time to get you in the bath. 

“C’mon, honey, up you go,” he says quietly, reaching for your hands and starting to pull you, his biceps tensing when you refuse to cooperate. 

“Carry me, Cheollie,” you beg rather adorably, and he doesn’t even have it in himself to roll his eyes as he leans in close enough for you to wrap your arms and legs around him before straightening up with you attached to his front. 

He hefts you up higher against his body, one arm around your back, the other under your ass, and says, “That’s daddy to you, baby,” as he lumbers to the bathroom, not so secretly pleased to be needed by you. 

AN: i didn't really ever see myself writing full blown daddy kink outside of kinktober but here we are and im not mad about it!!

inspired by discussions with my anons ily all i hope you like it

[pirateprincessblog]

Killer Eyes

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.

song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.

mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.

he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.

"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.

nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.

loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.

"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"

at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.

the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.

"stand up."

the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.

"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.

he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.

"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.

he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.

"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.

the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.

"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.

"excuse me, what is going on here?"

a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.

"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."

"that man needs help!"

"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."

"help"

his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.

"i'm calling help, mr barnes."

"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."

mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.

you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.

you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?

"i want a patient change."

"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.

"he's a human before everything, sir."

the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.

"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"

"i'm just a doctor–"

"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."

"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.

"then act like it."

he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.

"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.

at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.

"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"

you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.

"understood?!"

"yes, yes–"

your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.

"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."

"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."

"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."

"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."

"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.

"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.

you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.

"dismissed."

days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.

a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.

what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.

you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.

your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.

your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.

PRISONER INFO

name: mingi song

record id: ##############

nationality: korean 

gender: male

citizen: yes

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

dob: 09081999

age: 24

height: 183 cm

weight: 75 kg

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO

date: 25122022

charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence

summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.

you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.

the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.

"jeong office."

"i'll need you to cover for me today."

"doctor?"

"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."

it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.

"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."

"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."

"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.

you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.

you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.

"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.

they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.

"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."

"no, sit on mine!"

"i'd rather her sit between my legs."

"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"

you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.

you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.

"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.

"what is it, elijah?"

the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.

"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."

and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.

"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.

he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.

"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."

he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.

"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.

you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.

"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"

you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.

"imagine how it hurts me."

you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.

"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"

"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."

"the source of my pain, doctor. please."

your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.

"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"

"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."

you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.

he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.

"mr song?"

"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."

he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.

"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."

"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.

at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.

"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"

"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."

"mingi," he exhales.

"i'm not supposed to-"

"please."

you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?

"okay, mingi."

his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.

"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.

"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"

"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."

he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.

"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"

"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."

your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.

"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.

he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.

"mingi, you will have to let me go."

"just a bit more, please."

"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."

the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.

"lift your shirt up for me, please?"

he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.

you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.

you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.

"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"

"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.

he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.

"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.

he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.

"you're pretty." he blurts out.

"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.

"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.

"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.

"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."

you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.

"oh, god. what is this?"

"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.

"a belt?!"

"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."

"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.

you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.

"and what about this? does this hurt-?"

"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.

your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.

"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."

"x-ray? what could it be?"

"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."

he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.

"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.

"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."

your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.

"are you eating properly?"

he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.

"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."

"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.

he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.

"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.

"nothing."

"you can tell me." you push.

the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.

"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.

"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.

his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.

"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."

you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.

"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.

a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.

the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.

"good morning, mingi."

he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.

"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.

"good morn–"

slap. 

mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.

"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"

the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.

"did I make myself clear?!"

"yes, yes! perfectly clear."

mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.

"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.

his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.

"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."

you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.

a good boy.

he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.

"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"

he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.

he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.

"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."

but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.

you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.

in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.

he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.

he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.

your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.

his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.

he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.

"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.

"shut the hell up."

the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.

"that lip cut looks new." you comment.

"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.

"cole?"

"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.

"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"

"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.

"okay."

mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.

"here's your medication."

you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.

"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.

"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.

"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.

the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.

"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.

"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.

"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.

"canteen?"

"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."

and with another smile, you are gone.

canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.

the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.

"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."

"okay," he finally agrees.

he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.

with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?

"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.

the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.

he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.

"well, well. lookie here."

three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.

"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.

"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.

"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.

"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.

they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?

"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.

"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"

"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"

"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.

"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."

the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.

jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.

"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"

"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."

"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."

"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."

"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."

mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.

"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"

"i'd rather her give me a head."

"i heard she's a virgin."

"aw, i get to be her first and last!"

mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.

one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat. 

"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.

mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.

"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.

"what the fuck?!"

"oh my god!"

"who let him in here?"

"run!"

"get dr rachel!"

his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.

he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is  slowly turning red.

"safe..." he whispers.

jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.

"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.

"safe from what, mingi?"

"i'll keep you safe."

his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.

"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"

dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.

"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."

"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.

"mr jeong?" she searches for support.

but he remains silent.

"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"

"shut up."

"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."

"shut up."

"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."

"shut up."

"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.

"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.

"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"

your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.

you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.

"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."

and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.

"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.

days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.

you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?

"doctor?"

you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.

"how is he?" you ask before thinking.

elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.

"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."

"how are his injuries? anything new?"

"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."

you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.

"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.

"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."

"i need to see him."

"no."

"make it happen, please. please, elijah."

"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."

you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."

elijah exhales. "fine."

at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.

hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.

you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.

"mingi," you call in a whisper.

his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.

"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.

"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."

"well, i'm not."

you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.

"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"

when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.

"i'm sorry," you choke out.

you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.

"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."

his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.

"can i? please?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.

"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."

"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."

"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."

a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.

"barnes! care for a drink?"

"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."

"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."

"you paying?"

"sure am."

"then what the fuck we waiting for?"

the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.

"my savior,"  he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.

"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"

mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.

sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."

"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.

his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.

"so it's true."

"what is?"

"you're a virgin."

"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"

"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."

oh. oh.

"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."

"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."

the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.

"don't be a brat. i came to see you."

"and you did. i'm fine. now go."

"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"

"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."

"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."

he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.

mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."

"maybe i want to be hurt."

"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."

your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.

"i'd break you."

you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.

"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.

"and if you regret it?"

"i'll get over it."

with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.

"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.

"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."

"touch me more. i need more."

the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.

he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.

"should i take it off?"

"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."

"but won't it be difficult?"

"let me do the worrying. you just relax."

with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.

"stay still for me, princess."

a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.

"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."

"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"

"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal. 

and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.

he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.

"does it hurt, doctor?"

"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.

"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."

his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.

"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.

"why?"

"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.

"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."

his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.

"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."

your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.

"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.

tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.

"forgive me."

"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.

"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."

his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.

"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."

you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.

"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."

then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.

"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."

"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.

"can i stuff you full of my cum?"

"you can, please."

"are you on any pills?"

"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."

mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.

"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."

"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."

"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."

"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."

"i want you all to myself."

he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.

"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."

"your cunt was shaped for me."

"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."

"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."

"and nobody will touch me, except you."

"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."

he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.

"cream all over my cock, princess. please."

he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.

"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."

you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.

"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."

your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.

jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.

my saviour, the young prisoner said.

yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[021894s]

BOYFRIEND TEXTS W/HEESEUNG 3

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʙꜰ!ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ

masterlist

═══════════⋆★⋆════════════

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @luminouskalopsia @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog

[anashins]

King of the Streets

Pairing: street racer!Jaehyun x journalist!reader

Genre: street racing au, action, drama, romance, slow burn, smut

Word Count: 28k (I just can't write short stories, I'm sorry)

Summary: The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.

A/N: I started this after Jaehyun admitted he would have liked to become an F1 racer if the idol-path wouldn't have worked out for him. I spiraled and this is the outcome - I hope you have fun reading it as much as I had writing it!

“It’s been three years since I’ve started working here, and-”

“Unfortunately, this doesn’t matter, miss.”

For an entire week, you had prepared yourself for this meeting with your editor-in-chief. You had written down all your achievements from when you were an intern to your current position. 

And he had the nerve to tell you it all didn’t matter?

It had been three very long years with too many nights spent in the office to meet a deadline you were not responsible for, trips all across the country on your own account for stories that hadn’t even made it into the magazine, and work meetings where no one had bothered listening to your ideas and input.

After all the hard work and sleepless hours you had poured into your dedicated passion, it was unfathomable to you how he didn’t even bother bringing up the slightest interest in what you had to say, and it showed all over face in the form of widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Others have started prior to you and they’re in the exact same position,” your chief editor said, swaying in his chair. The city’s skyline spread behind him like a painting as the sun was setting, and more than once had you already imagined yourself in that spot. “What makes you think you’re better than any of them?”

An imaginary note popped up in your head. You got this, you were prepared for this. “I’m one of the firsts to go and one of the last to leave, I wrote the most clicked article on our website - to this day. I offer input to everyone who hasn’t got something going on, my personal and professional network that I’ve built throughout the past years is wide and strong. I’m the first one to take on suggested topics, the number of articles I publish per month is the highest out of all editors, I’m always up-to-date, I live for this job.”

The middle-aged man leaned forward and propped his elbows against the glass table, inspecting you thoroughly while you were bracing yourself to elaborate every bullet point. But he only said, 

“No, I don’t think so.”

You were flabbergasted. “Pardon me?”

“I don’t think you actually live for this job,” he explained calmly. “For that, it takes more than research and cranking out as many articles as possible just because your writing is good. It is, trust me, but the stories lack emotion and graspable actions. Right now, you’re only sitting in front of the computer, writing from your imagination. You don’t live the stories, you’re not in them.”

“I take trips across the country to attend events, I participate in every press conference possible, I-”

Again, he interrupted you, “Hara got in contact with a designer and walked for his show as an amateur model. Dal went to the rooftop of the highest building in this city and took pictures that even made it into television.”

“But that is illegal,” you commented. “Hara smuggled herself in when one of the models fell sick and Dal nearly got caught by the police.”

“And we would’ve bailed for all of them.” He sighed deeply as if annoyed by repeating himself. “See, this is what I’m trying to say, miss. The writing that you’re delivering is clean and conformable to law. When I read your articles, I’m well informed, but nothing sticks in my head. We’re a magazine, not a newspaper. Nobody wants to read about the opening of a new restaurant when they can read about things they will never be able to experience themselves. You have to dive in the story, be in the story to make people believe they’re in them too when they read it.”

You were quite taken aback as you noticed he remained polite when all he wanted to say was, “So, my stories are too boring, not sensational.”

The editor-in-chief let out another long sigh and fell back into his chair. “You have a trademark, but you have to get out of your secure shell to actually go somewhere, otherwise you’re going to get stuck.”

You were a goody two-shoes was what he tried to tell you. You were on the top when it was about writing, grammar and quantity, but your stories didn’t attract anyone’s interest, and if that wasn’t the case, then you could write as many perfect articles as you wanted - you would never get a higher position.

You inhaled deeply. “So, what do you suggest I’d do?”

His answer was clear, “Look for a story that will change lives. Write a story that will leave people breathless, and you’re getting the position of a senior editor. Because miss, you’re one of the most capable journalists here, but you don’t only need to be capable, you need to be a storyteller. If you can do this, propose the topic to me next week. If it’s what I expected, it will make headlines in the next issue and secure your new position.”

If only it were so easy.

____

You were sitting in the fast food restaurant with your notebook opened in front of you. Every single page was blank even though you had been there for several hours already, the ballpen in your hand having barely moved ever since.

“Do you want to order something else?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

You could only imagine the eyeroll the waitress let out when she turned away from you after not getting another order for two hours. But you were already short of cash this month and wouldn’t get paid for another week. 

Another reason why you needed the senior position: as a regular editor, you could barely get by. Why were journalists underpaid anyway when they were the source of daily news and this connected the world? You had never understood.

Many ideas had flown into your head, from working a day in a job that was notorious to interviewing an infamous inmate, but none of these were exciting or extraordinary enough like it was expected of you. The topics that you came up with didn’t immediately peak interest when you researched about what your fellow editors had ever written about. And what you found left you nearly speechless and doubting yourself.

Yes, you had always been tame, reserved, a goody two-shoes. That was why your mind was also not expanding to the way it was expected of reporters. Perhaps, you were not made for this job as you could also not quite learn how to do it right. 

Should you perhaps change to newspapers after all? But the open positions were always so rare and you had wanted to start at your current magazine because it was the most famous in the country…

“Where are you going after this?”

“I’m going to watch the race, Falcon against Antelope!”

“They’re set for tonight? I didn’t know!”

“Pscht, not so loud!”

Since you already lost focus and let other people’s voices into your mind, you could also pack your things and go home. You were already so done for the day.

“Can I come with you? It’s been so long since the last time I went.”

“Sure. They’ll start at midnight, so we have to hurry.”

You zipped up your handbag and threw a few bills on the table, already with one arm up the sleeve of your jacket when you perked up your ears.

“Falcon will make a comeback, so tonight there will be a lot of cash flowing!”

“Wow!”

You cleared up your throat and walked up to the two young women on the nearby table whose conversation you had been partially involuntarily listening to for the last minute. Despite your attention only shifting to them much later, you got the gist of the entire story. 

It was about illegal street racing, you had read an article about it a few months ago in which the alias Falcon had also been mentioned along with another animal that you had forgotten. 

The Falcon was only stuck in your mind, because there had been an accident caused by him, and ever since then, the police were paying even more attention to these kinds of illegal activities. The fact that there would be a race tonight must be a well hidden secret. 

“Excuse me, I overheard you’re also going to watch the race?” you feigned knowledge and quickly made up a story that would get them to talk. “Can you tell me where exactly they’ll start? I was going to meet my friend here who’s got all the info, but she’s not arrived yet and I’m afraid I’m gonna be late.”

They looked at you in wonder, then in amazement. One of them, apparently the better informed one, then nodded eagerly before describing the exact spot to you. “I guess it’s going to be quite full since it’s the first one with Falcon since the… incident. So everyone wants to see him. They’ll start at the industrial park at midnight.”

You nodded. “Thank you. Maybe we’ll see each other there.” You waited a bit until they had left the restaurant and then pondered whether to join or not. 

There had already been many articles written about the Falcon and street racing in common, but since the most controversial racer would make a comeback, this race would be a special one, perhaps even kept secret to a point where no other media outlet knew about it. There was a slim chance that you were going to be the only reporter, so regardless of your current struggles, you had to take this opportunity.

Yes, an article about the Falcon’s comeback was good, but that was by far not enough for the story of your lifetime. It was better than nothing though, a beginning. And who knew what could come out of it. 

As a journalist, you had learned that you were better off going and had something expected to write about rather than not going and missing on unexpected happenings.

So you headed to the industrial park.

____

When you arrived at the destination, you spotted a crowd that had formed in a wide, clear space between two buildings. There were about fifty spectators that had gathered, divided into different groups of various sizes, lights coming from the street lamps all around the place. 

Through the gaps between the cliques that all seemed too engaged with each other to notice how lost you were, you discovered a group of men that marked themselves off everyone else.

It wasn’t particularly the way they were dressed as they all wore black leather, but rather the presence they radiated. But you couldn’t deny the fact that all of them were equally overly handsome, just in a way you wouldn’t be drawn to. You weren’t intimidated, you were scared to the bones, and you immediately wanted to turn on your heels and run right back home.

You weren’t much informed about the topic of illegal street racing aside from the few articles you had read. You only knew that it was one of the most dangerous underground activities that had cost a few lives already, of drivers and passerbyers almost equally. It was macabre that articles like these gained the most attention, clicks and sales.

Although you weren’t quite passionate about this kind of topic let alone approved of it, it was the best that you could come up with for now. You wanted to prove to your editor-in-chief that you were willing to take risks, willing to leave your comfort zone for the job - even if this wasn’t going to be the final story.

But now that you were right in the middle of this happening, you were getting cold feet. This wasn’t right. If you were caught as a spectator, would the police detain you too? And would your boss truly bail you out?

“Place your bet!”

You flinched when a young man popped up right next to you with a tablet in his hand, looking at you with expectant eyes.

“Pardon?”

“Place your bet!” he repeated. “Falcon against Antelope.”

“Oh, I only came to watch,” you waved aside. “But thank you!”

“You’re here for the first time, am I right?” The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Place. Your. Bet. This is how we’re financing this all. No money, no races.”

This wasn’t a question anymore, this was a demand, and you figured that if you were going to remain undercover, you had to play along and pretend to be like everyone else, even though you didn’t know the rules to this game. The guy was scanning you from head to toe, and it took you everything to restrain yourself from shaking when you took the tablet into your hands. 

You had changed your mind entirely by now. You just wanted to be out of here as fast as possible, no matter what the editor-in-chief might say about this lost opportunity. It just wasn’t worth all this stress and fear. After all, you were quite attached to your life and a clear criminal report. It wasn’t that bad to be a goody two-shoes.

Still, you had to place a bet before you could vanish so that the guy would stop bothering you, so you scanned the display laying in your palms.

There were two columns, one belonged to the Falcon, the other to the Antelope. Each column was divided into different cells with the name and the amount of money one betted. No one had placed a single bet on the Falcon. 

What was there to lose when the money would be gone from you one way or another since you were going to leave right after this anyway? You wouldn’t win a single penny.

So you placed a fake name and 70.000 Won for the Falcon, which was ironically the lowest bid for the Antelope. You noticed that most of the other people had betted much more, making you wonder about the total amount the winner could collect. But 70.000 Won was already very much for you, so you stuck with that.

“The Falcon, huh?” The guy grinned. “Risky, but I like the way you think. We only accept cash. Today it’s 20 million won so far for the winner, and ten percent of it gets split between the right betters depending on their bets. Maybe you’re lucky tonight and win ten percent of the entire amount yourself.”

You were holding yourself back letting out an audible gasp as it truly sounded tempting, and instead reached into your bag and pulled out your purse. 70.000 Won was a small price for your life, and you couldn’t wait to finally leave and never turn back. How high were the chances the Falcon was going to win anyway when nobody believed he would?

The guy grinned when he collected your money. “Interesting. It’s going to be an interesting race today. Good luck!”

He then went on to bother someone else all while you checked your surroundings for a hidden, but secure exit. Since you had used a fake name and only one person had seen your real face up close, it would be easy getting away unnoticed. 

And you did. 

Sliding along the buildings with your back pressed into the outer walls, nobody paid attention to you since the race was about to begin and a turmoil broke out shortly after your bet. You had been weighing yourself in safety, currently hiding in a blind, dark spot in the entrance of a different building with the street to freedom in sight when you suddenly heard male voices speaking up.

“Ready, Jaehyun?”

“More than you are.”

You froze on the spot when you saw several tall figures coming in your direction, their bodies illuminated by the street lamps, and you recognized the intimidating men dressed all in black leather who had been right in the middle of the crowd shortly before. 

You couldn’t go back or forth, because either side was illuminated and would set the spotlight right on you, and flight forward would mean running directly into their arms. You could only push the door to the building behind you open and…

You found yourself standing in some kind of huge factory hall where only two cars were parked, the rest was entirely empty. Who in their right mind would rent a whole factory building for only two cars? Yes, they were expensive sports cars from what you could tell, the kind of ones that would catch everyone’s attention on the streets because of how luxurious and tuned they were… but an entire hall?

You were still processing and connecting all of this new information when the same door through which you had entered got pushed open again, and in walked all men that you had run from shortly before.

Your heart suddenly lept, and you feared that this was what a heart attack might feel like, yet you were very much still alive as you were able to desperately look for a spot to hide again while they hadn’t discovered your presence yet, but lingered by the entrance with the focus on two of them talking.

Out of reflex, as one of them turned into your direction, you fell to your knees and hid behind one of the cars - the matte black one -, suppressing a gasp the moment this exact car unlocked with a sound and flash from afar.

“I’m not afraid of you. I pity you.”

You needed a new spot to remain hidden with footsteps approaching this vehicle. Right now.

“And why would that be, Jaehyun?”

You had to think of something safe, but there was barely time anymore.

“Because you’re going to lose the race today.”

No way in hell.

There was no way in hell these were the racing cars! But of course, now everything made sense as to why those cars were being kept here, you just had been in too much of a panic to have connected the dots.

How you found yourself inside that matte, black car at this moment of realization, you couldn’t tell. Just like you couldn’t tell how you could have hoped to get out of this situation unnoticed all while hiding in a crouching position in the backseat with the only way to escape being visibly passing by these men.

If only you had stayed behind the car or under the car if you were to be discovered anyway, you could have somehow talked yourself out of this situation. But how were you going to explain you had actually sneaked into a racing vehicle? Out of all the dumb things you had ever done, this made it to the top of your list. 

You flinched and threw yourself down into the small legroom between the driver’s seat and backseat, when you heard the door in front of you open and a figure seated himself behind the steering wheel.

No way this was your situation now!

Everything was better than ending up inside one of these cars, hearing it start and rolling out of the hall.

This… this situation couldn’t be real.

If you just stayed crouched in the legroom, not giving away a single tone or making a single move, maybe you still had a chance to survive this ride unnoticed. How you would handle this situation when you returned and had to reveal yourself if you didn’t want to be locked inside that car until you died of thirst… that was something you didn’t want to think about yet.

After a few feet, the car came to a stop in the clearing among the spectators, and you made yourself even smaller in case someone might want to get a look inside. By the way the crowd cheered and rejoiced, you hoped that the racer was the Antelope for god knows which reason. They were both racers with the intention to win by all means.

The noise got louder, went from muffled to clear, and you realized the driver had pulled down the window.

“Everything ready?” A male voice.

“I’m ready,” was the driver’s dry answer, a deep voice with a calming, soft undertone. 

The engine was raving up, and you were tucked between the passenger’s seat and the backseat in a hole that was too tight, but because of that it was also the safest spot for the ride as there was no room to move anyway. Turning your head against the window at the opposite of you, you only saw light that flooded in and nothing else.

Dear god, you found yourself praying for the first time in your life, please let me live.

“Jaehyun, do you hear me?”

You flinched when you heard another voice.

“Clear and loud.”

“Only ten seconds left.”

“Okay.”

Was he communicating through a two-way radio with someone? You hadn’t expected this race to be so well-planned and coordinated. Was it always like this? This was an interesting and not widely known point. You only hoped your memory would keep all this information saved as you for sure wouldn’t be able to take out your notebook and write everything down now. 

This was the journalist inside you taking the upper hand again. If you were already in this situation, you were going to write the hell out of it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity you would never get again, the exact situation your editor-in-chief had talked about.

This was going to be your headline story. You only hoped what he had promised was true and your company would really bail you out if it came down to this. Or pay for hospital bills. There was no way you would be able to leave unscathed, physically and emotionally.

“Three!” the crowd yelled that you could also hear in the car as though you were standing among them.

“Two!” Your fingers gripped onto leather and something metallic, you couldn’t really tell. 

“One!” You closed your eyes.

“GO!”

How equally unlucky and lucky you were to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or right place at the right time, it depended.

____

You were absolutely not safe in your hiding spot as expected. You got tossed and flung into every direction possible, and if it weren’t for the narrow space in which you had tucked yourself in, you believed that you would have been hurled into the seat right next to the driver already. 

But you were gripping hard onto the cushions like your life depended on it just to prevent this from happening as the car sped through the streets and took every curve with such a sharp edge, you were amazed the vehicle didn’t drive on one side only by then. In your location, you weren’t quite able to catch the car’s speed, but only guessed by the street lights flashing by in less than a single second, which was, in your non-existent experience, quite much.

While the driver was talking to the person at the other end of the radio who was giving him directions and tips, navigating him away from police controls and crowded locations, you started to feel a bit braver with no more sharp curve having come in miles anymore. Most likely, you were on the highway now.

So you slowly arose and got on your knees. Curiosity eventually had gotten the better of you, and you wondered what the world outside looked like. In the end, no matter how you would come out of this, you had to make sure it must have been all worth it. 

You had to come to the conclusion that if you moved a bit higher to look out of the window, he might spot your head from his position if he looked in the rear window. With a muted curse, you crouched back down, but instantly got hit by another idea. Dragging the phone out of your handbag was quite an act when you barely couldn’t move, but once you had managed to do so, you inwardly hyped yourself up.

You turned on the camera and pressed the record button, then imperceptibly motioned the phone over your head and let the upper part peek out of your lair with the camera facing out of the window. If he would look, then he would barely see anything, probably mistake the black edge of your phone for a shadow or a part of the car’s interior.

When suddenly a ringing tone broke through the silence inside the car though, you nearly let your device fall with a gasp. You thought you had the ringtone silenced for the entire day already, how was it possible?!

“Hello,” the driver suddenly greeted, and only then it took a load off your mind. It wasn’t your phone that had rung.

“Jaehyun, when will you come home?” The female voice sounded playful, childish. A kid? Perhaps a teenager even?

“Why are you still awake?” The driver named Jaehyun chided with feigned sternness, of whom you still didn’t know what he looked like and whether he was the Falcon or the Antelope. “It’s past midnight and you have school tomorrow.”

“I was waiting for you to come home.”

“But I won’t be home for another hour. It’s going to be late tonight.” The driver sighed, and he sounded very regretful. “I’m sorry.”

“Jaehyun, are you currently racing?”

Silence followed, and suddenly, you felt like you were going to overhear something no one else was supposed to eavesdrop. Like an intruder - which you technically and obviously were since this was obviously a conversation between two family members. 

The driver repeated, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell mom. I’ll tell her you’re studying in the library again.”

A yawn followed on the other side, and suddenly, you heard the driver snicker. Somehow, it didn’t fit his attitude that you had gotten a glimpse at earlier. Even his responses to the person at the other side of the radio had always been short and curt. But to this young person, he was entirely different.

“I will wait for you. Mom said I shouldn’t, but I cannot sleep if I don’t know you’re home.”

“I’ll come home safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, sis. I will always come home safe.”

Your arm that was holding the phone quietly slipped back into your lap, and you stayed silent for a very long time after they had hung up. This was so wrong. You had signed up for an adventure, not to listen to an intimate conversation between siblings that somehow also warmed your heart. 

If you had learned anything from it, then it was that the driver was indeed a kind person deep within. It didn’t matter what he did, for what he did it and who he was in the end, Antelope or Falcon. They were people with stories, and if you were the journalist you claimed to be, you needed to look at both sides of the coin and bring out everyone’s own perception.

Wasn’t this what your editor-in-chief wanted? A headline that didn’t go “Illegal street racer makes a comeback! We are the first ones to interview him” but rather “He risked it all for his little sister, and now he’s back - read here about the tragic backstory of one of Seoul’s most dangerous men!” or something along these lines.

After you had gathered yourself again, you looked at your phone while the roads started to turn bumpier now. You assumed you had reached the outskirts and were hopefully on the way back to where it had all started. Gosh, you prayed for that, even though you hadn’t come up with a plan to explain your situation at all yet.

The video on your phone showed you exactly what you had expected to see: nothing but a blur of whites and black. Great. It was useless. But what had you even expected?

“We have a problem.”

You perked up your ears as you heard the other familiar voice through the radio.

“What is it?” the driver grumbled. “Not long and we’ll…” He paused, and even with the missing eye contact, you sensed how the mood had suddenly shifted. “I haven’t seen him in  a while…”

“Exactly. There is an undercover police car underway, the informants have just told us, and it’ll stop right where you have to pass through. The Antelope apparently knew about this and already took another route.”

Antelope?! You knew you didn’t want to judge, but out of all possibilities which was 50/50, of course you would have ended up in the Falcon’s aka Jaehyun’s car, the very same person you had mindlessly betted on. What were the odds?

The Falcon snorted. “Now, will you tell me he didn’t set this up himself?”

“No accusations now. Let’s think about what’s best to do. We’re currently in Gangdong-Gu, you somehow have to leave the highway.”

“There is no possibility,” he growled back. “It’s a suburb, there is no way I can pass through it on time and unnoticed for me to win the race.”

“I’ll navigate you the best I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The streets are so short and narrow, it will take too long and is too complicated.”

“You can’t get caught by the police, Jaehyun. And they’re almost right in front of you. It’s better to-”

“Don’t!” he cut the person on the other end off. “I won’t give up. Not this time again. I need this win and money, you know that. It’s my comeback and reputation that I have to restore.”

“But what your family needs is you, more than money or your reputation.”

Silence. Your front teeth sank deep into your bottom lip as you were quarreling with yourself in silence. You knew what was right and what was wrong, what was legal and what was illegal, and what you were currently doing with the driver was far from being within the law as a matter of fact. 

But his little sister wanted him to come home so that she could go to sleep…

“HEY!” you screamed and suddenly appeared from behind his driver’s seat.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The car swerved to the left, hurling you out of your lair and right into the edge of the backseat with a dull pain that shot from your stomach right into every limb. You gasped for air.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?” Despite you still not being able to face him, you got a glimpse of his face when you looked at it through the rear window. Clear anger and also shock was written all over it. You couldn’t blame him. “ANSWER TO ME NOW!”

“Don’t… have time,” you breathed and rubbed your back, getting on your knees and slowly rising from your position. “Gangdong-Gu… that’s where I grew up. I know this place inside out. I’ll navigate you.”

“Jaehyun, who is that with you in your car? That’s a rule violation!”

“I don’t fucking know who this is!” he yelled again, but not as loud as before, and before he could react to your actions, you had already crawled over the expensive interior and settled yourself in the passenger’s seat. “Who are you?!”

With a click, you fastened the seatbelt and looked out of the window. You knew exactly where you were now. “Take the second exit from here. We will pass by within the next two minutes. You will have to drive through a part of the neighborhood to change highways, but you’ll be fine at this hour. Once you have changed motorways, you’ll even reach the destination quicker. Is that a rule violation too? Taking a shortcut through the suburbs?”

You tilted your head and met his flabbergasted expression as he was staring at you with equal intensity where also curiosity was mirrored. “Uhm… usually we avoid that to not accidentally hurt any passerbyers. But…”

“It’s not a violation of the rules,” the person on the radio jumped in quickly. “It’s just unethical and something we would not like to risk.”

“Okay, thanks radio-guy.”

“Welcome, uhm… intruder-lady?”

“I did not intrude!”

“Well, how the fuck would you call this?” the Falcon interrupted.

“I don’t have time to explain now.” Your arm shot up and you pointed at a sign. “Take this exit! Right now!”

From the corner of your eyes, you clearly saw him struggling whether to trust you or not. Fair enough. You were a stranger that had hidden in his car and were now only popping up when it was about winning or losing. If anything, you could have been smuggled in by the Antelope’s team as well. No wonder he was doubting whether he could trust you.

“Screw it.”

You got thrown to the left when he suddenly swerved and left the highway according to your instruction. With your right hand, you grabbed the handle under the window for stability, once again questioning all your life choices. But you had thought long and clear about this. Having decided on helping him would result in the best outcome for your situation.

“Three rules,” he suddenly said when he drove into the neighborhood.

You shook off all your fears, speaking confidently, “I’m listening.” 

“First. No word to anyone about what’s happening and what you’re doing right now. Nobody can know you’re in here.”

Why did he sound so intimidating? “Got it.”

“Second, you will lead me through this neighborhood without any incidents. Slow, steady and clear, you’ll be the navigator, the guy at the other side helps you from afar. One wrong turn, one accident or even the danger of one, and one late instruction, and I’ll kick you out of the car right there and then.”

No pressure, no pressure at all, you thought ironically to yourself. “Got it.”

“And third,” a voice on the radio chirped, “Don’t forget to have fun!”

“Shut up, Taeyong.”

“Third,” the Falcon repeated, “when we’re back at the venue, you’ll stay hidden inside here until someone comes and gets you.”

What would happen after, you didn’t dare to ask. Surely, they wouldn’t get rid of you… right? Either way, your fate had been sealed the moment you decided to come watch the race, so you gulped silently and gave a final nod.

The car came to a halt in front of a very familiar street. Everything was dark, empty and quiet. You took a deep breather and the Falcon’s head snapped in your direction. When you faced each other the next moment, you took a spare second to study his face.

If he weren’t in a racing car, you could imagine him very well sitting in a café, sipping coffee and typing something into his laptop, maybe even wearing glasses and ordinary street clothes, possibly even joggers. 

He was just a normal dude under all these leather clothes that made him appear very tough, emphasized by this constant scowl on his face that was - admittedly - very handsome. After years in your field of expertise, you could read people very well and only seldomly were you wrong.

“Ready?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.

Neither did you. “Ready.”

The adrenaline flushed through your veins the moment he hit the gas pedal.

____

“Didn’t you sleep much last night?” your co-worker asked when you yawned for the nth time that morning.

What were you supposed to answer? 

“I only got home at 4am last night, because I was street racing?”

So instead, you said, “I just couldn’t fall asleep, don’t worry.”

Nobody would believe you. And yet, these were the stories that everyone sought after. But only one ride was not resourceful enough and didn't contain enough substance for a decent plot. You needed the people behind it, the backgrounds and the experiences. 

But after you had gotten out of the car, these people have made it very clear to you that you shouldn’t appear in a race ever again, not even as a spectator, and that your lips needed to be sealed for eternity. The fact that they had let you go without any consequences was only out of mercy because you had contributed to the victory - with a violation of rules though. 

You had learned pretty quickly though that most of the time, they ignored these rules as long as nobody got hurt as physical incidents that included innocents were the highest breach of violation - just like the Antelope who had apparently cheated like the Falcon had assumed. But since nobody got proof, there hadn’t been more consequences than a few verbal attacks. As long as nobody had seen you inside the car and could prove it somehow, you were fine. 

The only person that had thanked and had been nice to you was the Falcon’s navigator, Taeyong. He had even looked very sorry for what you had been through when he had opened the door to the car and you stepped out of the hideout between the backseat and passenger’s seat with shaking legs.

The Falcon hadn’t even looked at you twice when you walked out of the building - with all the money. Yes, surprisingly, they had still given you ten percent of the prize money. It was all rightfully yours since you had been the only one betting on the Falcon. Your bet had been officially registered and you had won, so it was fair and according to the rules that you would get what you earned, Taeyong had explained. 

Deep down, you sensed that he only didn’t want to admit they wouldn’t have won without you, and this was them paying off their debt. After all, you hadn’t given out your real name, so they could have just said the betting person vanished. But you didn’t push the topic and saw it as hush money that you luckily needed anyway, and accepted it. Racers had a very high sense of ethics, you had learned by now. A thank you from the Falcon wouldn’t have hurt though. But instead, he had said you should never appear in front of his eyes ever again. What a rude man.

“Okay,” your co-worker said, “shall we go through the index for the next issue and compare the page numbers? Two pairs of eyes work better than just one.”

“Sure! Let me get the notes about what the editor-in-chief said. There were some important points he mentioned that had changed…”

You reached into your handbag to look for your notebook when at that moment, the telephone on your desk rang and showed the lobby’s shortcut number.

“There is someone waiting here for you, miss.”

“Alright, I’ll come downstairs.”

You wondered whether you had actually missed a meeting or an interview that you had set up for a story, but nothing actually came into your mind when you took the elevator and rode downstairs to the lobby. 

At the front desk, you asked the lady where your visitor was waiting since you hadn’t spotted a familiar face as you passed by the waiting area. When she pointed at a figure sitting on the couch, slumped on the cushion, you needed to blink twice to match the face with your memories.

“You?!” you then called out when you stood in front of the young man.

He wore a snapback, glasses, joggers and a loose long sleeve. Between his lips, he carried a white stick, and you already wanted to call him out that smoking was not allowed in here when you realized that the stick was too thin to be a cigarette. It turned out to actually be a lollipop. When your gaze fell to his feet, you were able to count every single naked toe as he wore slippers. You were right. He normally didn’t look like this nighttime-self at all. During the daytime, he was just a normal guy who appeared to have just gotten out of bed.

When the Falcon arose from his seat, he didn’t even greet you. Instead, he took the lollipop out of his mouth, round and red, and just thrusted a notebook into your hands. Your notebook - the one you had wanted to fetch from your handbag earlier and which you needed for the meeting with your editor-in-chief later. You had been so sure that it was in your handbag this entire time!

“This was still in the backseat of my car. Take better care of your belongings. And don’t put your business cards everywhere. It’s not everyone’s business where you work or what your contact information is.” He then shrugged, made the lollipop disappear between his lips again and turned aside to walk past you, but you held him back by his arm. 

“Wait!”

Slowly, he shifted his head back to you and asked lazily, but clearly despite the sweet in his mouth, “What is it now?” 

He shook your grip off, but you just bluntly asked the question that had been on your mind this entire morning, “Let me ride with you one more time, please?”

He drew his brows together as if you had just asked the dumbest thing a woman your age could ask a man. And apparently, judging by his answer, you had done exactly that. 

“Are you nuts?”

“You see, I’m a journa-”

“You people really think you’re superior,” he scowled, and you were taken aback. “Making money off of people’s personal stories, aren’t you guys embarrassed? I shouldn’t have returned your notebook at all. You’re all just selfish bastards.”

With a lowly look at you, the Falcon put more distance between you two, and although you were frozen on the spot and dumbfounded at first, you didn’t want to let him leave like this. Clearly, he had a prejudice about you journalists that you had to resolve. 

“I’m not one of those journalists that make money off other people!” you told him when you had caught up with him, but by then you were already outside on the streets. “I tell real, verified stories, and only what people allow me to write! Only the truth!” He didn’t reply, but just continued walking, and you decided to follow him. “I’ve never lied or done anything without consent to write my stories. And that is what my editor-in-chief is always criticizing since this apparently holds me back from getting a promotion. In his eyes, I’m a goody two-shoes who doesn’t take any risks. But the truth is… I can’t do that, I’m fine that way! I want to tell the stories with people, I don’t want to tell stories against people! And I think you guys’ story is one very worth telling!”

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and you nearly ran into him from behind. One a few inches separated you from each other when he turned around to you and dropped his head to lock gazes with you. “I don’t think what happened yesterday with you breaking into my car was something a goody two-shoes would actually do, but a ruthless journalist.”

You let out a desperate cry. “I told you over and over again, I just wanted to watch the race, then changed my mind and wanted to go home when you guys appeared, and then I panicked! That wasn’t planned, and regarding how close I was to dying, I would choose to not do that again. Which is why I’m asking you formally for permission.”

The Falcon remained silent and inwardly, you raised your hopes up. If you could tell a great story in cooperation with him under an alias and his other friends, that would definitely secure your promotion. 

“No.”

Then, he continued his way.

“But why?” You quickly caught up to him again. “I wouldn’t tell you guys’ real names and only write what you want to have written.”

“I don’t have a story to tell except that we like racing.”

“But there must already be a story to that, right?” you tried again, keeping up with his steps this time. “Why did you start? How did you start? How did you learn all this, how do you feel when you’re in the car, how does this whole teamwork function, do your other friends and family know and what do they think about it… I have so many questions!”

“No word about my family,” he interrupted you, the candy now in his hand to speak more insistently, and it didn’t sound like a warning at this point, it sounded more like a threat. “Whatever you heard in the car, you better forget about it.”

A soft spot - you had already discovered that. It was none of your business if he didn’t want to let you in as a stranger, but you also couldn’t stop wondering. “I already got that memo yesterday. But-”

Again, he cut you off. “Great. And if I still catch you publishing an article on what happened yesterday or what you eavesdropped… well, I know where you work and live thanks to your negligence. Goodbye.”

He put the lollipop back into his mouth and disappeared in the crowd. You were tired of chasing after him again, and truth to be told, you could understand his point. Taking a deep breath in, you settled with the fact that you had to change your topic, the promotion gone from your sight again.

Of course you could have written the article without any additional info or the reveal that you were in the car yourself, but then it would only be that, an article. But you wanted a story.

_____

You were scrolling through the internet, looking for new jobs.

You figured that if you were to stick with your old position, you could as well try your luck somewhere else. Perhaps, there were open positions on the same level as your missed promotion for which you could prove that you were qualified or that didn’t require you to do illegal and unethical things.

There were only two days left until you had to hand in your proposal for the story that would cover the next issue, and you still hadn’t come up with something else. 

By now, you could also pack your things and leave the city since living in the countryside didn’t sound so bad after all. Sitting by the window all day, watching nature? A dream. But you had chosen to return and to stay in the capital on purpose, a quiet, secluded life didn’t suit your current ideals. You were a writer after all, always seeking for new stories to tell, and you believed Seoul told endless ones.

The ringing doorbell had you spin around on your chair. Your room was small, but it offered enough space for all necessities that only one person needed, which was why you rarely had visitors. And as far as you remembered, you hadn’t invited anyone over.

“Who is there?” you asked carefully as you approached the door.

“It’s me.”

You furrowed. “Who?”

“Me.” Pause. “Jaehyun.”

The Falcon. Lollipop-dude. What could he possibly want after your last argument?

You opened the door, and there he stood in front of you, hair slicked back and donned all in black leather - a stark contrast to a few days ago, safe from the lollipop spinning in his mouth. 

He peeked through the halfway opened door. “It’s tiny in here.”

You snapped, “Well, nobody asked you to come.”

“Can I come in anyway? We need to talk.”

“I didn’t write anything!”

He rolled his eyes as you opened the door. “I know, that’s not why I came here.”

You closed the entrance door behind you and watched him standing in your room, a bit too big for your furniture, and also a bit lost in this environment. You struggled biting down a snicker, because this picture was just so surreal.

“What is it?” he grumbled.

You folded your arms in front of your chest and shrugged. “Nothing. So tell me, what do you want from me that even made you come to my home?”

The Falcon turned around to your desk and stretched out his arm, taking something into his hand that must be your notebook he had returned to you. Holding it up, he showed it to you with his back still facing you and asked, “You still want to write this story of yours?”

Perplexed, you could only nod, but as you realized he couldn’t witness your confirmation, you quickly agreed vocally, “Yes! Yes, of course!” 

“Three rules,” he then started before slowly shifting back into your sight, the lollipop still in his mouth, and you noted that everything for him came with terms and conditions. How exhausting, three rules again. “You won’t use anyone’s real names. You will only write what I allow you to write. You won’t mention my family or my background. I am allowed to read the entire thing before you publish it.”

“Those are four rules tho,” you remarked, and his eyes narrowed. 

The lollipop stopped spinning in his mouth. “I’m outta here.”

“I agree, I agree!” you corrected yourself. “I agree with all the rules!”

“Fine.” He handed you over your notebook. “Now get dressed, we’re going racing. I hope you have black clothes and a leather jacket, because this…” He pointed at your light pink pajamas in which you had changed into as soon as you came home, “is not it.”

Your eyes widened. “Now?”

“Now,” he repeated.

You hesitated.

“Your last chance,” he pushed.

“I’ll get changed.”

____

“I thought I was going to be in the car.”

“Didn’t Jaehyun tell you?” Taeyong asked with a cocked brow.

“Tell me what?”

“That guy…” He touched his forehead and pointed at the seat next to him, urging you to sit down in front of the three monitors standing on the desk. “We need you to navigate.”

“Navigate what?”

“What did you two talk about on your ride here?”

You heaved up your shoulders and let them down again. “Actually nothing.”

The ride in the Falcon’s car to this suburb had been quiet with him focusing on driving and you concentrating on what you could make this story revolve around. No, you had barely talked and had each lived in their own mind.

“You’re going to navigate the race. Basically be his co-driver, but from here, not from inside the car like last time,” Taeyong explained thoughtfully with a smile. “Basically, you’ll do my job, I’ll only be your co-navigator and the team’s manager fully again.”

“Navigator? Eh? I thought I was only going to stay here, writing. Maybe even get the chance to be inside the car again, but since it’s against the official rules, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Wait, he really didn’t tell you anything?” You were both equally confused.

“So I’m not just… observing?”

“Absolutely not.” Taeyong determinedly shook his head. “To be part of the team means to contribute something, and for you to write this story about us, you will also have to do your part. Actually, no outsider is allowed to be with the team during the race, because the risk of cheating and manipulation is too high, so this was the only option. Jaehyun has already fallen out of grace, we cannot allow something negative to be associated with him again when his reputation is just getting repaired.”

You wanted to know why the Falcon had fallen out of grace in the first place, but you came to the conclusion that it was not your time to ask just yet. 

“And why me then? Aren’t you guys enough?” You tried to conceal your rising panic. “I can just sit here and write if I’m not allowed inside the car. Maybe do some cleaning of the vehicle before you start or do some promotion work. Something I can actually do. Nobody will notice I don’t have a fixed role in the team. Besides, I don’t even know how to navigate.”

Taeyong tilted his head, his smile growing wider. “But you’ve done an exceptionally good job last time. It doesn’t matter who navigates, the person just has to be good.”

You felt your cheeks getting warm by this compliment. “I barely did anything…”

“And yet, it was enough for him to win after such a long time and have people start betting on him again. He really needs the money, so you better help him win as many races as possible in return for getting a good story.”

Why did it sound like a threat despite his sweet smile? 

You sighed. “What do I have to do?”

“Take this.” 

Taeyong handed you a headset and instructed you to wear it which would connect your voice to the radio in Jaehyun’s car. Through the first monitor, you had the dashcam’s point of view, which gave you the feeling of being directly in the passenger’s seat, that was not bad. The second monitor showed the car’s location in the city with all streets and buildings through a GPS while the third showed another map but with different red dots spread across the screen.

“Those are police stations and control points.” Taeyong let the tip of his index finger glide over the screen. “... of the ones we know. Spotting cars following Jaehyun as well as unplanned control points popping up will be another challenge. And these devices are police scanners. As you can guess from the name alone…”

At first, you had been excited, but as you got everything explained and shown, it dawned on you how close the driver and the navigator actually had to work, and that the driver had to trust the navigator literally with his life. You didn’t feel very comfortable with that much responsibility weighing on your shoulders. What if something went wrong and he got caught by the police? Would you land in jail then too? 

“Today, it’s going to be a cannonball run with two others, meaning Jaehyun will start here, but finish at the other side of the city where most of the spectators are waiting. That’s why there is barely anyone here right now. Of course they want to see the winner. As opposed to last time’s run, this is about time rather than bringing as much distance between the cars as possible. And you know how much the sum is that you can win?” Taeyong’s sweet smile got replaced by a wicked grin. “40 million won.”

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry!”

You jumped out of your seat and ran towards the door, opening it up. The starting point was somewhere in the suburbs where you had never been before, but you didn’t care as you pulled out your phone once you inhaled fresh air that filled your heated lungs, ready to call a taxi.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

A huge figure blocked your way, and it only took you one look to first smell his lollipop, then recognize him. Damn, did he ever finish that sweet or did he have an entire stash in his pockets?

“I’m going home!”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because you lied to me! I can’t do this!”

Instead of talking you out of it, the Falcon raised his brows, then laughed, revealing his teeth between the red lollipop. “I knew it. Once a chickenshit, always a chickenshit.”

“A what?!” Your mouth stood agape, wondering whether you had heard right. “How can you say that?”

“I’m only speaking the truth. The first time, you also wanted to escape had it not been for us coming in your direction and forcing you to get into the car, right?”

You faltered. “Hm… okay, yes… but…”

He tilted his head and shrugged. “You dream about big stories, but this is what they will always stay for you: a dream. And you know why?” The Falcon leaned in, and you felt the sudden urge to withdraw, but you were completely petrified. “Because you don’t have the courage and the will to actually make your dreams come true. You're a big talker, a dreamer to put it nicely, but you’re not a doer, someone who gets shit done. I, in comparison, get shit done. And this is why I'm doing what I’m doing and you’re only watching from the sidelines, not being able to type down this story of yours like the goody two-shoes you are. Ever thought about the fact that you won’t get this promotion because you don’t deserve it?”

You weren’t aware that you had been holding your breath the entire time. Only when he approached you further and whispered in your ear, “Now go home, we don’t need someone like you here, we can do it without you”, you were able to exhale again, blood irregularly pumping through your veins while you clenched your fists.

With a fierce gaze thrown at him, you spun around on your heel, opened the door to the hall and yelled, “Taeyong, give me the headset and tell me what to do. For this round, I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” You threw one last look behind you at Jaehyun before you continued, “And next time, I’ll do it all myself.”

The door fell shut behind you, but you could have sworn that you saw the Falcon smiling. 

This time though, genuinely. And perhaps partly relieved.

____

You were still shaking when you found yourself sitting in the Falcon’s car again, heading home in the middle of the night after your first race as a co-navigator. The other team members had brought you to the finish line in their car with them to celebrate, but there was not much reason for you to do so as of now. The shock was still sitting deeply with you.

“Everything okay?” the Falcon asked, but it still sounded like coming from another planet as your ears were ringing. “What are you even upset about? We won.”

“What I’m upset about?” you called out. “There could have been so many instances that could have gone totally wrong!”

“But nothing went wrong. Why are you always such a scaredy cat?” You didn’t look at him but straight out of the window. His eye roll was very visible in front of you though. “Just calm down, it’s irritating me.”

“I know everything ended well, but just imagine if a police car had suddenly pulled up. Or if someone had crossed the streets. Inside the car, it was exciting, but as an official navigator, you have so much responsibility…”

“Just enjoy the victory and the amount of money we’re going to share with you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” He murmured something about goody two-shoes again, but by now you were good at ignoring that. “Geez, did you ever have one single day in your life that you could freely enjoy without having a stick so far up your ass? Your poor boyfriend.”

It was the most nonchalant way in which you had ever witnessed the Falcon talk, even though he had mostly said nonsense. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.”

You gasped. “Excu-”

The next moment, you tasted something sweet on your tongue. “Close your mouth and suck.”

Instinctively, you did as you had been told as you didn’t know how else to react. The Falcon kept driving the car through the city with his eyes fixated on the road in front of him as though he hadn’t just pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and nearly shoved it straight down your throat.

“Sugar helps me calm down and the motions I need to make distract me from unwanted thoughts,” he admitted, and his voice suddenly sounded so vulnerable that you didn’t dare to respond. “I think you need that now too.”

You slumped back into your seat, suddenly very quiet. You tried not to think much about the fact that his saliva was now in your mouth too, and that you didn’t feel repulsed at the thought at all. He had been right after all. Your hands were not shaking anymore.

“The fact that I participate in those races is because I need the money,” he continued and you somehow sensed that he was currently glad that you weren’t able to look him straight in the face in case you caught his true emotions mirrored there. “And I wanted you to be my navigator, because you had done a very good job the first time around. During the races, you appear to be panicked and disheveled, but you are actually calm and collected, always knowing what you’re doing and never doubting yourself. From the first moment on, I saw much potential in you, and I needed someone like that to strengthen my team.”

“... to win the races,” you finished what he probably thought to himself in silence.

“Exactly.”

“So to you, it’s all about winning?” Your mouth tasted sweet with each syllable, and only now you recognized which flavor that was: cherry. “You wanted me in your team, because you assumed I could contribute to your series of wins?”

“That’s my only life goal. Winning as many games as possible for the money.”

You didn’t know why his answer bothered you. Weren’t you also only on board because you needed to write about this experience to ensure you climb the ladder of success which would eventually also result in money and fame? You weren’t much different from each other. He probably was only a bit more reckless in money making than you.

“I understand,” you agreed when it eventually clicked. He was trying to fool you again, so you corrected yourself, “No, I don’t understand. The way you spoke to your sister… it’s not only about money for you.”

The Falcon scoffed. “Why do you feel the need to peg me as some kind of deep character? Because I don’t fit the narrative of your story?”

This stung. Most likely because he was right. People wanted to read about deep characters, if not about a hero, then about an antagonist who told them how he had become an antagonist. But nobody wanted to read about a greedy, selfish person.

“So the main character of my story is only after money,” you concluded dryly.

“Yes, this is something you can mention in your story. The person you write about is a selfish jerk who only thinks about money.” He let out a laugh, but it rather sounded rather bitter than genuine. “I know it’s not that very deep of a story, but never told you that what you would get was interesting.”

The lollipop clicked against your teeth as you replied, “No worries. I’m a professional.”

He wanted to make himself fit his very own narrative, and you needed him to fit your own narrative. Right now, there was no character to your story.

At home, despite the ungodly hour and your clash of interests, you typed down a summary of your story and handed it in the very next day, even before the deadline. This would be your story, one way or another. You were going to make the best out of it, with the Falcon’s cooperation or without.

____

“He is very popular,” you remarked.

“Oh, he sure is.” Taeyong thrusted a drink into your hand. “He just doesn’t like this attention at all.”

You watched the Falcon getting approached by both men and women who were desperate to talk to him while you watched with your new team from the sidelines. After another race together that the Falcon had won, Taeyong had invited you to something like an after party in some other team member’s big house. You had to work the next morning and didn’t want to stay long, but you supposed you had to do it for the experience and more substance for your article. The more you had to write about, the better.

“Can you imagine that only a few months ago, it was entirely different? Everybody hated him.”

“Hm?” You snapped your head to Taeyong. “Because of the accident he was involved in?”

The look in his eyes was impenetrable, but it softened when he watched his friend. “Yes, but the details to that… I’m sure he’ll tell you himself when he feels the time is right.”

Admittedly, you knew quite a bit already by just going around and talking to people, you were just keeping it a secret since you didn’t want to come off to the team as too nosy or pushy. But none of the spectators you had come to have a short conversation with knew exactly what kind of accident that had been. You had tried really hard to gather all the information, but they just differed too much from each other.

When one assumed the Falcon had hit someone with his car and drove away, the second guessed he had run into someone, but brought them to the hospital. And the third option, and that was the worst, those people believed he had killed someone in that accident. The newspapers that had reported on this case hadn’t mentioned anything more. Just the fact that the Falcon had caused an accident in a suburb that involved an innocent passerby. And that was still enough to fall out of grace in this community, that was how high their ethical standards were.

You wondered why, with such an incident happening that involved all kinds of trope that would make people drawn to it, there hadn’t been any follow-up reports by newspapers and magazines.

Taeyong had once let slip that Jaehyun had only been able to make a comeback after this incident because he had challenged the Cheetah. Apparently, nobody ever did that. And now you were even more curious about the Cheetah, the Falcon’s biggest opponent. 

From what you had heard, officially and unofficially, he won all the races and was nearly untouchable. He only challenged someone just to show off how remarkable he was, but nobody ever challenged him. That was an unspoken rule - except for when you wanted to set yourself up for humiliation. And the Falcon had done exactly that.

You looked at your team which was already top notch with a driver who was nearly impeccable. You couldn’t imagine a team that was better. Apart from the one you worked the closest with, Taeyong, there was Johnny, the mechanic, and the one which they call the investigator, though you just believed that he was a hacker in reality - Yuta. 

You had seen and worked with them before all the time, but getting to know them privately in peace made you realize one thing: These were all just normal guys who knew each other from university with a not so legal side hustle. They were splitting the winner’s entire sum equally among all of them, and even if they didn’t want that much as the Falcon was the one driving and inheriting the most dangerous part, the latter always insisted on it, claiming they weren’t a work environment, but friends. 

The fact that you were now a part of this close knit group, made you feel a bit awkward as you didn’t know them that well yet, but the other fact that they had welcomed you with open arms, safe from the Falcon so far though, and already saw you as one of them, warmed your heart. 

Even though the money had sounded very tempting as well and you surely always got your fair share of the work that paid more than a few bills, you were surprised how little it meant to you in the end. You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The races with the team… the preparation, the process, the talks in between, the shared laughter, the banter… you enjoyed this way much more than holding the money in your hands by the next day. It meant so less when everything else hoarded a much bigger feeling that was still so unfamiliar to you, but very overwhelming. 

“Ah, there he is,” Johnny whispered to you and pointed at a tall guy, surrounded by other young men and a woman. “The Cheetah and his team.”

“That’s the Cheetah?” you asked. “The one he’s challenged?”

“The best racer out there and someone Jaehyun could never beat, someone no one usually challenges and beats.” There it was. Now, you didn’t need to feign lack of knowledge anymore. “Hopefully, until now. It’s about a lot of money and the people are already anticipating it. It’s gonna be the race of the year. Maybe, Jaehyun will take his crown.”

You hadn’t known it was going to be this big and anticipated. Now, you also understood why people had welcomed the Falcon back despite whatever everyone imagined the accident to have involved. The best and most popular racer against the underdog who had fallen deep, wanting to rise again? That surely made a headline.

“The woman in that team, is she also a navigator?”

“Yes.” Taeyong nodded. “Women are mostly navigators, there rarely are female racers. As of today, I only know of two who are still active. But it’s really hard to recruit women for your team, no matter which position.”

“Because the job is illegal and hard?”

He nodded again. “Women usually don’t want to be involved in illegal activities.”

“... I can relate.”

All eyes now landed on you and you shrugged. “I just really need this promotion, you know that, guys. Just once in life, I want to be fortunate and successful.”

You were glad you could be totally open with them and not get judged, because you all were here for the same reason. This illegal sport benefitted all of you in some way.

“Just like I need money to finance my studies,” Taeyong said. 

And Yuta added, “I really want to found my own company in the future.”

“And one day, I really want to move back to the US,” Johnny finished.

You were only people with dreams and ambitions. If you did things like these with all the precautions and didn’t hurt anyone, no matter how selfish or selfless, then was it really wrong to chase after your longings? You still gave the Falcon the benefit of doubt over the incident. Your team was fair and good, you wanted to believe so hard in every single one of them.

Knowing his friends and what they did for each other, you now were a hundred percent sure that there was a deep reason the Falcon always put his life on line too, and that he wasn’t as reckless and as money-hungry as he had first made himself out to be. None of them were.

Taeyong studied to help out his family, because his father couldn’t work anymore. Yuta wanted to open up a company, because his family got robbed of theirs. Johnny wanted to go back to the US to take care of his mom.

“I first thought it all boiled down to money, that glued you together,” you thought out loud. “But I was so wrong.”

It was way more than about money. It was about friendship, family and dreams. Of some things, you had only ever heard of and never experienced yourself - and most likely never would. And as this thought settled, you realized that you were the one doing all this solely for fame. You were the selfish, money-fixated person in this group. You were the one wrong here.

“It all comes down to trust in the end,” Johnny complemented. “Without a tight-knit team that doesn’t trust each other, you cannot make it.”

“But why me?” You frowned. “I didn’t do anything to earn your trust. I’m just here, because you caught me.”

“Oh, but you did win our trust!” Taeyong then objected and Johnny and Yuta nodded along. “With the way you helped Jaehyun when you were stuck in his car, that was the first race he had won after a long while and which has restored his reputation. You didn’t help him because of the money, I heard the entire thing.”

They trusted you? Why was your chest grabbed by a feeling so overwhelming like it was going to explode at any moment? Perhaps, at this point, you could imagine being friends with them too eventually… if they wanted to still have someone as selfish as you around.

“I didn’t want to see him lose,” you reluctantly answered. “At that moment, I didn’t think about a story. I just cared for his sister… and for him.”

Because you never had had the experience of being in a real family, you wanted to protect everyone that still had one. You remembered the phone call the Falcon had made, that he had promised to always come back to her. Basically, you still knew nothing about him, but what you knew was that he was way more than he made himself out to be. 

You didn’t need to invent a story about him to fit your narrative. He had fitted it all along. You saw it clearly now.

“Okay, enough with the long faces, guys!”

Johnny threw his arms around all of you and huddled you all together.

“You’re suffocating me,” Yuta complained, though the playfulness clearly stood out in his voice.

“People are looking,” Taeyong worried, but you couldn’t help but to chuckle.

“So what?” Johnny let you all go again and shrugged. “How about a round of drinks for us? I think we all need it now.”

“I’ll get the drinks.”

You all shifted your head in unison and saw the Falcon having moved to your group, no sign of other people anymore, although you could have sworn he was swarmed by them only a few minutes ago.

“What about your fans?” you wanted to know from him and joked, “They all got an autograph already?”

His reply was dry with a gaze just as similar, “I told them to leave me alone.”

“Jeez, Jaehyun,” Taeyong complained, “with a behavior like this, no one is going to bet on you in the future.”

“They shouldn’t bet on who’s the nicest anyway.”

Yes, the Falcon wouldn’t be the winner of a be-nice-award. But when he volunteered to get the drinks and naturally included you, you figured that he didn’t need to voice his kindness. He rather showed it.

____

“Why will you drive me home? Didn’t you drink?”

“Because it’s late and dark, and I need to go home too. And of course I didn’t drink alcoholic beverages this entire time, are you nuts? Now, get in.”

You looked out of the passenger’s seat’s window when the car started rolling, lights flashing by in a blur as you drove through the streets at a normal speed, and yawned. “The party was just getting to be fun, you didn’t have to leave with me.”

“Just take this free ride, will you?”

“Okay.”

You listened to the Falcon’s lollipop clicking against his teeth when he moved it in his mouth and you yawned again. 

“I spotted the Cheetah earlier tonight,” you said. “What’s the deal with this big race that’s coming up?”

“So the guys told you, hm.” The movements of the lollipop stick stopped. “Our history runs deep. To sum it up quickly: I can win against anyone, but never against him. I need to break this curse.”

“I get it,” you declared and leaned back in your seat. “You never beat him, so the rage waves just get stacked on top of each other, and the more races you lose, the more you want to win. Just like we journalists fight to have our stories be headliners every month and there is always this one person who snatches them the majority of the time.”

The Falcon sighed. “A weird and out of place comparison, but I guess you’re not entirely wrong.”

You seamlessly continued, “When was your first race against him?”

“I guess when I turned 21. That’s when I started racing.”

“Wow, so many years and no win against him? It must be frustrating.”

“Yeah, just rub more salt into the wound,” he muttered, a bit offended, “but as I said, this is going to end in a few weeks. He won’t be Kind of the Streets anymore. It will be me who will take the crown.”

“King of the Streets?” You asked. “Is that the official title?”

“Just a label we throw around in the community every now and then, but nobody gets literally crowned, if you know what I mean. He’s just been inheriting this title forever, and I’m sick of it.”

“Did you only start because you wanted to win the title?”

“What? Of course not! I started because my fa-” He stopped. “Hey, I know what you’re doing!”

You giggled. “Don’t worry. I didn’t ask you as a journalist, I ask you as your teammate, your navigator. We have made rules and I will stick to them. Is it too much to ask for, getting to know you? We spend so much time with each other, we trust each other, don’t we?”

He became silent. You got him. “I guess so.”

This reply surprised you very much as you hadn’t expected it. But you regained your composure very quickly despite the feeling still lingering in your chest. “How many siblings do you have... Jaehyun?”

It was the first time that you vocally said and thought about his real name. You had been avoiding it, but you couldn’t keep calling him the Falcon. He was human too, although he would remain anonymous in your story.

Jeahyun paused, but eventually replied, “You already know of my younger sister. She’s the only one. I live with her and my mom.”

“How old is your sister?”

“She’s fourteen.”

“So, in middle school.”

“Exactly.”

Where was his father that he had nearly mentioned? You wanted to ask this and much more, but the way his voice had changed by the end, you knew that this was it for today. And it was okay. He should only share what he felt like sharing. Instead, you decided to tell him more about yourself.

“I live alone. My parents divorced when I was a little child, and since my mom moved abroad with a new man directly after, I stayed with my dad. But he was addicted to booze. I had to grow up fast, because whatever role a parent usually played, he wasn’t in the position to take over it. One day, when I was the same age as your sister, he didn’t come home.”

Jaehyun breathed in deeply, and you sensed that he was about to drop a comment, but held himself back from doing so at the last second. You were unsure whether this was a sign to continue or not, but you did anyway.

“He got caught in a hit and run accident. He was the driver. Despite me telling him every day to cut out on the booze or at least never get into the car with alcohol in his system, he always did. And on that fateful day, he took an entire family with him.”

Having this story sealed in your heart for such a long time, you didn’t expect the syllables to fall from your lips so smoothly as though you were retelling someone else’s past and not your personal one. After all these years, you felt nothing anymore.

“Your question from before we got into the car…” Jaehyun started, but refrained himself from ending the sentence.

“If you had drunk something, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car with you. And If you had drunk something during a race, I would have quit right away.” You smiled mildly. “I’m relieved your addiction is lollipops.”

“Why had you agreed on being my navigator?” was Jaehyun’s next question. “You should resent people like me.”

“I can’t resent the world just because I resent my father. I want you to always come home to your sister like you promised her.”

He fell into silence. Perhaps, you had crossed a line, perhaps not. But you wanted him to know that you cared. You collected stories every day from different people and they all affected you, every single fate, more or less. But for him, you didn't care like a journalist for a subject. You cared like a friend.

“I want that too,” Jaehyun eventually responded. “Always coming back home to her.”

You smiled. “Then let’s work together well.”

____

With every race, you got calmer and more professional, and even though you had lost two races so far - as constant wins were an exception anyway except for when you were called the Cheetah - Jaehyun won with you, his team, almost all races, and he rose to the top again, shining as the Falcon in all his glory.

You still weren’t able to shake off your nervousness and slight panic entirely, but you got better in managing those feelings and most importantly, you didn't let it seep through the headset for Jaehyun to feel.

Through the next races, your connection only got stronger as you figured out a way to work silently and peacefully with each other. You even bonded over unfunny jokes and small conversations you held in the car when he drove you home, which he always insisted on - most likely because you were a woman and it was usually the middle of the night.

Jaehyun’s car was his safe space, because he knew whatever you talked about, even though most of the time it wasn’t even something important, it would never leave his vehicle without his permission.

“I never drink alcohol,” he suddenly told you on one of these rides home when you both got out of the car as you had decided to make a short stopover. “I never know when my sister or mom will need me since my father is not here anymore.”

It was the first time in a long while you talked about something other than the races, teams, your job and other trivial things. You had rarely talked about his personal topics ever since that one time. You were happy to hear that you finally reached this point again, and the conversation was even opened up by him.

Jaehyun seated himself on the car’s hood and you carefully crawled up to him. He made space for you and reached out his hand when you teetered, securing you while you settled right next to him. After having taken your place, you followed his gaze and encountered a view that you hadn’t seen before.

He had wanted to drive out of the city after this race just to clear his head, and you had complied despite this late hour. Now, you were watching the sunrise from the top of a hill on an early summer morning, wondering how a moment like this, that you had never dreamed of before, was suddenly making you so happy.

“Where is your father?” you finally dared to ask, because the moment felt right.

“In prison for fraud,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “He committed a huge tax evasion crime with his own company, not only taking the business down, but all of our savings as well along with the family’s reputation.”

You were shocked. “I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry, that’s horrible.”

“He consciously did that, knowing exactly the outcome of his actions, what it’d cause us, what it would make of us.” His blood was boiling, it was palpable. “And now, my mother is working two jobs just to make the ends meet and pay off the debt because of this selfish, money-hungry bastard.”

Jaehyun… was he racing to support his family too, just like his friends? Because a son who described his father as a selfish, money-hungry bastard couldn’t be one himself.

“I guess we both grew up with father figures we couldn’t really rely on.”

On top of the car were sitting two people with inner children that had been abandoned by their parents at some point. But you both had learned to make it through life without them. Screw them, you were going to make it better than your parents.

“I don’t want my sister to grow up thinking all men are like our father. I’m not the perfect example for an older brother, but I would do everything to give her the life she wants, such as illegal car racing just to open up the possibility to her of enrolling into her preferred university.”

So that was why and always, it was about winning races for him. Even though he had claimed otherwise in the beginning, he was not someone superficial who only cared about fame, you had always known. He cared about his family, and friends. And, as someone who hadn’t grown up with the first, it was pretty touching that a brother would do that for his sister. Nobody had ever done that for you and you didn’t have someone who would even consider doing this for you, too. 

“You sister must be really proud of you.” You smiled. “You’re a good person, Jaehyun.”

Suddenly, he turned cold. “Easy for you to say, knowing only this side of me.”

These words hurt you after spending quite a lot of time with each other. 

You had gotten to know his friends and now some of his backstory. You knew you were in no position to feel this way considering that he didn’t see you as his friend yet apparently. Still, it stung somehow.

“When I was your sister’s age, I would have loved to have an older brother by my side who cares so much about me. I was all alone, but your sister has you. Whether you see yourself as a good person or not, Jaehyun, it doesn’t matter to your sister at all. You’re good in her book, that’s enough.”

“I appreciate you saying that.” He was being sincere, judging by his voice. “My sister doesn’t endorse my… side hustle. But she accepts it without a complaint, because she knows that’s what gets us through. My mom on the other hand… You know how moms are. So we keep it a secret from .”

No, you actually didn’t. And Jaehyun only realized that when he saw how your face fell. “I shouldn’t h-”

Yet, you tried to overplay it with a shrug and a wave. “It’s okay. It slips off most people’s mind, because having a family is something we suggest everyone has. I don’t blame anyone for thinking the same about me.”

“It’s not okay, I’m sorry for speaking so nonchalantly,” Jaehyun replied determinedly, taking you aback. “I will pay more attention to what I’m saying from now on.”

Nobody had ever reacted that way to such a sand trap. You were really surprised how understanding he actually was.  “It’s not like I grew up not knowing what a family should be like,” you continued. “I saw it in the foster family that took me in until I left high school. I saw it in my friend’s family who I spent most days with. I saw it walking through the mall passing by parents with their happy children. I know exactly what it should be like having a family, I just never had one of my own.” You dropped your head, tilting the corners of your lips slightly upwards. “But one day, I dream of having one and do it all better.”

The silence that followed made you realize how bright outside it had already gotten, and also that you had just confessed your deepest wish to someone who didn’t even consider you his friend. It had something slightly embarrassing, but also comforting, because you knew he would understand you nonetheless.

But Jaehyun didn’t say anything back directly, and you felt a bit lost. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel validated or overlooked, the gaze in his eyes reflected nothing but understanding after all. Perhaps, he just wasn’t as good at expressing his thoughts as you. And that was fine as you were a writer after all. As long as you could comprehend what seemed to go on his head, you were fine with the way you communicated. It was this fine bond between the racer and the navigator.

“Get up, we’re getting breakfast,” Jaehyun eventually prompted. 

It sounded great after a good race so you didn’t complain. “Okay!”

Jaehyun was already back on the ground while you still struggled getting off the hood without slipping. That was until you felt two strong hands gripping onto your sides and heaving you up as though you were as light as a feather. You could have sworn when you got inside the car, his hand lingered on your waist a bit longer than it needed to. But it could all have been in your tired mind as well.

____

You hadn’t known breakfast would be taken in Jaehyun’s house.

“Please come in and eat, dear, we have enough!”

His mother was a cordial person whose smile brightened up the entire home upon entering. You instantly felt welcomed by her cheerful personality.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted her back and kind of awkwardly followed her into the kitchen where she had already set up the entire breakfast table for four people after Jaehyun had called her from the car to inform them they would have a guest over.

Different main and side dishes were presented, and you didn’t know where to look let alone what to eat first. You could tell Jaehyun’s mother had gone beyond and above to prepare this breakfast as he had given you a heads up that she usually left very early and came home late just to sleep the little time she had remaining. Yet, she never failed to eat breakfast with her children or at least make food for them every single day. That was motherly love.

You suddenly felt a wave of warmth spreading through your body. She wasn’t your own mother, but right now, you felt very much like part of a family you had never gotten to experience yourself. And Jaehyun had wanted to show you.

Tears welled up behind your eyes as you took a seat at the opposite of him, and you tried to hide your sentiment, yet still sneaked a look at him. His soft gaze, he hid behind his long fringe. His caring demeanor, he hid behind his rough words. His apparent worries, he hid behind a long scowl. But this was all a facade for what he truly was: a loving son and brother and so much more than a money-hungry, selfish racer. 

“Did you guys study hard for the exams the entire night?” Jaehyun’s mom asked and you tilted your head in confusion. 

“Yes, mom,” Jaehyun replied. “But she’s not a student anymore, I just picked her up on her way to work.”

She turned to you. “Really? What occupation do you inherit, dear?”

You looked into Jaehyun’s direction for approval, but he remained silent and nodded, so you told the truth, “I’m a journalist.”

“Really?” She clapped into her hands and laughed. “Jiyeong wants to become a journalist too!”

Before you could ask who Jiyeong was, a female voice already asked, “What’s with me?”

She didn’t look much like her brother. In fact, from the moment you saw her, you thought she was the spitting image of her mother, both very beautiful. 

“Jaehyun’s friend here is a journalist, Jiyeong. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Really?” Jiyeong’s eyes started to sparkle and she approached you, seating herself right next to you. “I’m editor-in-chief at our school’s newspaper! Where do you work? I read almost all newspapers and magazines on a daily basis.”

While you were explaining to Jiyoung what articles were written by you of which she indeed remembered one or two, their mother placed rice in each of your bowls along with Jaehyun’s help.

You now knew why he had wanted specifically you and came back to recruit you not only once, but twice. The first time, he had most likely not thought about involving you yet. With his sister being into journalism, he knew how important your notebook was to you and genuinely only wanted to return it. The second time, he actually came around and wondered why not combine your talent for navigation with your occupation and get at least something out of your deal, not only for you, but for him - and his little sister - too.

“My dream is to attend Ehwa Woman’s university,” Jiyoung told you when you all started eating. “Where did you study?”

You smiled. It had been your dream to go to Ehwa too. But you didn't have money or relatives who could have supported you, so you attended a university far away from Seoul that was cheap in comparison. “I went to Chonnam University in Gwangju.”

“And you came back here and made it so far! I really look up to you!”

You flushed as you had always felt inferior to your colleagues who had attended the big and popular universities in Seoul, but Jaehyun’s sister not judging you by that but complimenting your actual skills touched you very much.

“Now, let her eat, Jiyeong! She hasn’t even come to touch her food yet! Please dig in, dear before it gets cold!”

It was your first breakfast together with loving people in many, many years.

When you stood outside with Jaehyun, waiting for his sister to get her backpack for school so that he could drive her there, you told him, “Thank you for introducing me to your mom and sister. I know why you did that.”

Because he wanted to show you what it felt like to have an actual, loving family. Because he wanted to show you that your work was never for vain. He had eventually become your friend, and you his. Yes, friend. But you didn’t speak it out.

“When I found out that you were a journalist, I immediately thought great, I need to introduce you to my sister!... But journalists also destroyed my life by writing articles not only about my dad’s crimes, but also about me,” Jaehyun explained, and you nodded, knowing it was about the mystery incident he had yet to tell you. “My sister never lost focus of her dream though. She told me she wanted to be one of the good ones, no defamation, always after the truth. So when you told me you were one of these people too, I thought that maybe, I can trust you after all, even with my life.”

“And you can!” You touched his arm in a gesture of comfort, and although his eyes widened, he didn’t pull away. “I stand by what we’ve promised to each other. I won’t publish anything without your consent. And if there is anything in the past that I have to clear up for you and your family, I will do so too.”

“Mhmm.” You saw him struggling through his mien, but he didn’t respond, apparently still needing to make his mind up. If so, you let him. 

“So, what do you study? You never told me.”

“Nothing.” He heaved his shoulders and slowly dropped them again.

You frowned. “But didn’t you-”

“I dropped out last semester right after the incident.”

“But your mo-”

“- doesn’t know. Neither does my sister.”

You didn’t want to judge, that was not your job, as a journalist and as a friend. So you asked, “Why?” although you could most likely already make out the answer.

“We can’t afford it as of right now, so I’m postponing my graduation. I definitely want to return, but as always, it boils down to money,” Jaehyun clarified. “I want to do it better than my father. I want to found my own company too and provide to my family the life they deserve. Even if the path to this aim might not be all legal, I promised to myself to leave this part of me behind once I’m there.”

“...And I will do everything in my might to win every race for as long as we’re working together, Jaehyun.”

“For my sister? Or for your story?”

“Not only for me, but also for your sister,” you repeated, “for your mom and for y-”

You swallowed the last part, but the way his features softened suddenly, he might have understood nonetheless, and it made your heart flutter. Perhaps, in his eyes, you were now friends as well.

____

“There is nothing personal in this story.”

You felt defeated. You had hoped, with handing in your first draft, your editor-in-chief would be totally invested in the story as well, encouraging you to continue and maybe even compliment you on the premise. Instead, while reading through all the pages with you sitting anxiously in front of him, his facial expression had fallen more and more.

“What do you mean?”

“The beginning is very intriguing with you sitting in the car, racing with him. It’s perfect, the reader gets thrown right into the story. But after that?” He shrugged and threw the papers back on his desk. “Nothing. No feelings, no emotions, just scenery description and a lot of theoretical stuff. Nobody cares about how the navigation system works or how the cars are tuned.”

“Oh, I thought it might be interesting to read how the team stays connected and what makes the cars so special.”

“Nobody cares,” he retorted dryly. “That’s not the stories people like to read. They can google all that stuff.”

Although it hurt your feelings, you had to silently admit that he was right. You hadn't given much away in the article about how Yuta worked behind the scenes or what the navigation system was really capable of according to Taeyong, but had to google a lot of things yourself too. You had wanted to give as little personal details away as possible, but apparently, it was too less. Your article was just boring.

“There is no common thread,” he criticized sharply. “Do you want to write about yourself being involved, about the sports in common or about the Falcon? Because right now, it’s all of this and nothing at the same time. If you’re that involved, write about what you do, how you learned it, about your feelings during the races. If you write about the sports, interview other teams, the spectators, dive into the history. If you center the plot around the Falcon, what’s his background, what does he race for, what’s his aim?”

You exactly sensed which direction he wanted to push you. “I’ll write abo-”

“I think,” he cut you off, “if you want to make it a headliner, you have to focus on the Falcon.” There it was. “Why did the Falcon really pause for so long? Is it true that he had caused an accident during a race? What really happened back then? How did he regain his fame? What made people change their minds? And most importantly, is he going to win and what will he do with the prize money? These are the questions that intrigues the reader. They want emotions, passion, they need to feel something while reason. Right now, everything I’m feeling is my hunger since it’s almost lunchtime.”

You purposely overheard his subtle taunt. “Those are very personal questions that he doesn’t want to talk about.”

“Well, then make him.”

You kept it to yourself that you already knew most answers. “As journalists, we also have to respect the people’s privacy and opinions.”

“Then make the entire story anonymous with all the personal information gathered,” he proposed. “It’s not less personal, but no names are given away.”

“I already plan on doing that.”

“So what’s the problem?” 

”People will still know, that’s how known he is. I cannot reveal things he doesn’t want me to reveal.”

Either way, anonymous, with his alias or even real name written in the article - it would hurt him all the same. It was his personal story, his family, his friends. It made him beautifully human, but also painfully fragile. It was his story to tell when the time was right, when he decided to do so, not you.

“Very well.” Your boss got up from his seat and took his jacket. “You can publish it like this if you want. I guess for a nice closing story at the end of the magazine, it's enough.”

For the first time in your life, you were having a clash of interest. There it was in front of you, your dream job position, so close if you were only selfish enough. And behind you stood the man whose trust you had just gained, begging you to respect his past wounds. What would you do?

____

It wasn’t easy, balancing racing by night and working by day. Oftentimes, you didn’t get more than four hours of sleep, spending time at home after work just to shower, change and then leave for a race again. You didn’t complain. You never did, because you enjoyed it very much. The newly formed friendship between you and Jaehyun’s team was something that brightened up your day as you had never experienced this kind of bond before. But you also didn’t leave your aim out of sight.

With Jaehyun’s rising popularity though also came people who voiced out their doubts about him even louder. You had just finished this night’s race and were waiting for Jaehyun to take you home, already looking forward to a bit of alone time with him, when you overheard a group of young men passing by.

“I don’t care what others think or whether he’s popular,” one of them said. “As long as he’s staying silent, he’s guilty in my book.”

“In mine too,” the second chimed in. “Why has he never said anything on that topic? And now, only because he’s winning so often and challenged the Cheetah, everybody seems to have forgotten about it? Bullshit.”

Your fingers clenched by the time the third one commented, “Don’t worry guys, he’ll fall out of grace as far as he has fallen. It’s always like this.”

“Hey!” Now, you couldn’t listen to this conversation any longer and stepped out of your dark corner. “Do you feel proud, talking like this about a person you don’t know?”

They stopped in their tracks and turned around to you. “And who are you?”

“Oh, I think she’s their navigator!”

One of them stepped in front of you and grinned. “Then, you must know the truth if you’re in the team and fight for him so desperately, right?”

The other two followed suit and laughed in unison. “Or are you in love with him and would defend him even though he’s guilty?”

You realized that you actually didn’t care about the truth anymore. You didn’t care when or whether Jaehyun would tell you one day at all. But that didn’t withhold you from defending him like your life depended on it. Someone who loved his family and friends so dearly, who always paid much attention to the street and passerbyers, who had to talk you into taking a detour just because there was a crowd of people he had to race by… you would always defend your racer.

“The truth is none of your business,” you said confidently. “Do I ask about what mistakes you’ve made? A person I do not know personally? What has this got anything to do with his performance anyway? Either you bet on him or you don’t, but nobody forces you. He doesn’t need your dumbass opinions to win, he doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Hey…”

You couldn’t tell who had spoken up, but you didn’t care much as you just hit your stride. “How about you get in the car and try to do the things these racers do? I bet you wouldn’t even last a few minutes on these streets. It must be so peaceful, watching from the sidelines with your big mouths as long as you’re not the ones in action, am I right?”

“Hey!”

Little did you know that the voice had come from behind you. Only when you felt an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to a chest whose scent smelled very familiar, it dawned on you that no one in the group had tried to speak up, but it had been Jaehyun who was standing behind you, most likely all this time already.

But he wasn’t mad, even though your cheeks were burning. “Listen to my girl. If you dare to raise your voice against her again, you’ll be the ones the newspapers will be writing about the next day. Understood? Now, good riddance.” One opened their mouth to retort, but Jaehyun didn’t let him. “I SAID GOOD RIDDANCE!”

They were out of your sight quicker than you could process, and Jaehyun let go of your shoulder the same moment. 

“Come,” he urged you, and you silently followed him to the car. “I have to show you something.”

After you were driving for a little while all in awkward silence, you finally dared to ask, “Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you the truth.”

From the way his lollipop clicked against his teeth, you could only sense Jaehyun’s anxiety, and you wondered what got him so worked up even though he had won the race. You could only think of one reason. Perhaps, today was the day.

“Does it have something to do with what happened back then?”

“Yes.”

“Did I say something wrong earlier?”

Immediately, the clicking noises stopped, but he gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “You’ve gotten everything wrong.”

Your stomach dropped and you suddenly felt so nauseous. “Jaehyun… what was wrong about it?”

He was visibly upset now. “How can you say all these things about me?”

“These.. things? What did I say that was wrong? I don’t understand. I meant every word and I don’t care whether you heard them or not, because they are the truth.”

“You don’t know the truth.” He added, “Yet.”

“Even if… There was nothing wrong with what I said. You don’t need them to win, you don’t need spectators and betters. You only need yourself and your team. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t reply, but kept his eyes fixated on the street in front of him. Not much talking, but many kilometers later, you suddenly came to a halt in a narrow street under a light post in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. To your left and right were single family houses and nobody was in your field of vision at this ungodly hour.

“Is this…?”

He took the lollipop out of his mouth and inhaled deeply. “This is where it happened.”

“Oh. Jaehyun…” You had been prepared to be taken here, but now that you were actually at the location, you didn’t know what to say.

“This is the spot where I collided with a pedestrian.” Even though he didn’t stutter or pause, you still realized how much mental strength it had taken him to not only bring you here, but to also speak about the incident - probably for the first time ever since it had happened. “He didn’t die on the spot. He survived, actually. That much, I know after I asked around in the hospital. I don’t know who he was, where he was going, whether he had family or other people who cared. I just called for an ambulance, drove my car away and remained hidden until they arrived. Then, I fled. This is the truth.”

You couldn’t deny that you were relieved he didn’t do a hit and run. You were also relieved that nobody had died and that the truth behind the accident was something that wouldn’t shake your friendship to the core. Of course it was bad, and he knew it himself. He’d always known and deeply regretted it, every single day. You saw it clearly now.

“I believe you.”

In moments of panic, humans were indeed most likely to do things they were not proud of, things totally wrong they wished to change later if only they could travel back in time. Things, they would have handled differently if they hadn’t panicked or were too scared. Jaehyun wasn’t an exception, although the baggage he had to carry was heavier than most else’s.

Humans were not perfect. For him, it all started with his not so perfect father and the not so perfect life he was living, leading him to do not so perfect things to save what was still salvageable. 

“For one hot minute,” Jaehyun continued, “I really thought about leaving him there and fleeing as fast as possible. I couldn’t go to jail like my father and leave my mom and sister all to themselves, dropping them entirely too. I couldn’t get caught, so I did my best to prevent this.” He laughed, bitterly. “After all, I am what people think of me. So your words mean nothing.”

“My words mean nothing?” It hurt. “It’s easy to tell someone how to behave when the incident has already taken place. But at the end of the day, we can never be sure how we, ourselves, would have reacted or what we would have thought at that moment. You thought about your mom and sister, but you thought about the accident victim too. You wanted to do the best for both. So you reacted accordingly to what was best in your mind.”

“Still, I’m not the person you painted me to be. I nearly killed someone in a race. And you know why? Because I thought taking a shortcut through a neighborhood would make me win the race back then. It’s not forbidden, but this is the reason we racers usually never do that.”

That was why he had been so reluctant to go through your neighborhood at your very first accidental race together. And he still wouldn’t, no matter how much he trusted you. What had happened back then was still sitting deep within him - justifiably.

“I am running illegal races with you,” you started. “I have always known that you wouldn’t work with the law. And I am neither! So what does that make us?”

He sank his head and placed his hands on his lap. “You speak so highly of me, but in reality, I am a very bad person.”

“You’ve introduced me to your sister and mother, Jaehyun. If this is where a bad person grows up, then the entire world is rotten and beyond the point of saving. But people like you give me hope.”

“Why would a person like me give you hope?”

“Because, despite your situation, you still have so much love inside of you that expresses itself in so many forms. That’s why you’re loved too, by many people.”

Silence engulfed you, and you thought that Jaehyun would drive away after sometime again, but he didn’t, so you accompanied him in this quietness as long as it helped him process the past.

“You know why I wanted to take this shortcut?” he eventually spoke up quietly, and you shook your head. “Because I wanted to end the race abruptly and rush home… That night, my sister got very sick and my mom wasn’t home. I already announced that I would drop out before it happened.”

That was something the newspapers and no one else had ever mentioned. Of course, people always focus on sensational facts. It was easier to tell a story and transfer emotions when the main feeling an article would lure out was hate against someone. 

It still had been a crime, this was a fact. And he could still go to jail for that. But you believed that the man who cared about his family so much and who was able to care about strangers too, was still very much haunted by his past, far more than he wanted to let slip through his facade. 

If he hadn’t had a family to take care of, things would be entirely different. But he trusted you enough now to tell you all this and not fear that you would go behind his back.

My girl… you remembered. Had he truly meant it? Had you proven to him your undeniable loyalty just earlier?

“Jaehyun…”

Slowly, your hand wandered to his lap on top of his. Against your expectations, he grabbed yours and squeezed it tightly.

____

When Jaehyun wanted to drop you off at your building much later, the tension between you was still palpable, and you didn’t know how to make it vanish. 

Perhaps, only time was needed - for him to believe that nothing had changed between you, and for you to settle with the fact that the guy who caused your heart to jump, just only a little bit, had done something grave in the past that you had to work through as well. After all, it still had been a crime.

“Jaehyun…” You wanted to end the night on a positive note, but he didn’t let you finish the sentence.

“Our ways will part here and now.”

You thought you had misheard. “Pardon?”

“I can’t demand a goody two-shoes like you to help a criminal like me,” he said coldly and stiffened in his seat. “And I surely won’t help a goody two-shoes like you write about my criminal record anymore now that the truth was inevitable to come forward with. So it ends here. Now.”

You knew where this rooted from: doubt and guilt. But during your entire career path, you had dealt with a lot of people who suddenly changed their minds on a topic or got cold feet.

“That won’t happen, Jaehyun,” you claimed. “You don’t have another navigator as good as me, no one and nothing can come close to the connection that you and I have.”

“It’ll be fine,” he obliged. “Now, go.”

“No,” you refused. “I will stay.”

“I SAID GO!”

“AND I SAID I WILL STAY!”

“Gosh!” he yelled. “Why can’t you be obedient for once towards me and leave before I hurt you too?!”

You both froze when it dawned on you what he had just said. You almost didn’t dare, yet you had to make sure that what he had said was indeed real.

“You’re afraid to hurt me?”

“I deceive my mom when it comes down to my activities and my studies. If she ever finds out, she’ll be hurt. I hurt my sister by not always being there for her whenever she needs me. I hurt my team for expecting them to be there for me although they have their own struggles. And I hurt you, because I cannot be the person you expect me to be. I only hurt the people I love.”

You took a deep breather and waited a few heartbeats in case Jaehyun wanted to chase you away again. But he didn’t. He just sat there in the driver’s seat, shoulders slumped, bangs messily falling into his eyes and the lollipop stick not moving a bit. 

“You want to protect your overworked mom from more worries, you want to provide a good future for your sister, and you split the win evenly among the team for them to help their families too. If I don’t expect a friend to be exactly like this, then what else?” you confessed.

But Jaehyun didn’t like this answer, it was written all over his face. You were scared that you had said something wrong.

“Friends?” he suddenly croaked.

“Yeah, friends,” you repeated slowly. “Aren’t we… friends?”

You had seen him as your friend all along, though one who made your cheeks warm when he called you “my girl” and your heart swell when he touched you. But now, it hurt you that he had never felt even the slightest of the same connection. Fair enough, everyone needed their own space, and with Jaehyun’s past, it was his own right to decide whether to ever make friends again.

You had just hoped…

Cherry.

That was the taste of Jaehyun’s lollipop, he never chose another flavor.

Though, it tasted different from his own lips than from the candy directly.

You were asking yourself how this sweet taste could calm him down when all it did to you at this moment was making your heart race and nearly jump out of your chest. Perhaps, because this time, you tasted the lollipop’s sweetness on his tongue rather than in your own mouth, and he made sure that you experienced every taste bud this flavor had to offer. 

Lollipops were very sweet already, and although Jaehyun was a fast and restless street racer, his kisses were much sweeter than candy. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected him to possess this side, but now that you thought about it, the signs had already been there whenever you observed him eating the candy.

Jaehyun’s fingers curled on your back when you motioned forward, away from your seat and more into his welcoming hug. The dashboard between you hindered you from embracing fully, causing you both to giggle at some point, but you continued kissing with your arms slung around his neck, for very long even after the cherry taste had vanished.

You weren’t hurt anymore over the fact that Jaehyun didn’t see you as his friend. You had never been friends. You had always been more than that.

____

Jaehyun’s victim had been a 45-year-old party chairman - that much you had found out through your connection to different journalists and a few demanding calls. The fact that after the incident, only silence followed and no details were revealed, not even about the gender and the age of the victim, had gotten your alarm bells ringing. And now you knew why. 

A famous politician involved in a street racing accident, but no one had mentioned his name? Something was not right with this story, you didn’t need to be a professional to recognize this.

“I need his record,” you then said at the hospital’s reception. 

Your editor-in-chief had given you this employee’s contact, assuring you she was more lenient in data protection when she saw the right amount of money. And your boss had been very happy to pay her the requested amount the moment you told him what you were after.

“This is exactly the kind of story I was looking for,” he had complimented you. “Good job. Now, go after it.”

You had left the building right away, making your way to the hospital the chairman had been admitted to after the accident.

“Here is a copy of his record,” the woman at the reception whispered to you. “All is well, he got out after two weeks. There is one interesting thing though… but look for yourself.”

“Thank you.”

You took the papers, and too excited to drive all the way back to the office, you looked through them right then and there after having found a quiet spot in the waiting room.

There was nothing abnormal at first for a car accident. It had left him with deep grazes, a dislocated arm, two broken ribs and a concussion. It sounded quite bad, but very mild for the fact that a car had hit him, and not at all life-threatening. So the accident had not been that severe as Jaehyun had made out to be in his panic.

Perhaps, that was the reason the party chairman had never been named in the news. But on the other hand… newspapers got to write articles about important politicians all the time, and just this once, his name had been left out? This didn’t sound like something a newspaper would do under these circumstances. 

The more important the name, the more clicks and sales the news generated. They must have been bribed to keep his name entirely out of all news revolving around this incident. You were wondering yourself why. Given all facts, no matter how macabre it sounded, this kind of accident would even play into the party’s hands. 

A very important politician who got hit by a street racer and admitted to the hospital with fractures? It would even be a headliner with the conclusion to go harder after such illegal activities.

Everything just doesn’t sound right. Something was being kept buried that no one should know about and could possibly threaten the party’s reputation. That much, you were already sure of.

… but what could it be?

You gasped when your eyes passed the passage that gave you a single answer to all your questions.

Patient was heavily intoxicated.

Whether it were drugs or alcohol, you didn’t know. But you were going to find out soon as you returned back to the office and made a call to the police.

____

“How high is the possibility that this program is actually a virus?” you asked and looked over Yuta’s shoulder who was currently typing something into his laptop. 

“Very low, but it’s still new, so we never know what will happen anyway,” Taeyong answered on his friend’s behalf and stretched out on Yuta’s bed in whose home you had  all gathered today. “Can’t you detect it if it’s one?”

“What do you think I’m currently trying to do here?” Yuta rolled his eyes. “I’m a programming student, not a wizard.”

“Okay, sorry? Jeez.”

“Doyoung said that with this program, you will also get the coordinates of all cars in your ten kilometer radius that use a GPS, so you can plan the route and the car’s speed even more predictively,” Yuta explained instead. “I’m still trying to figure out how.”

“The race is in two weeks. You should hurry.”

“I know, Taeyong. You think these last weeks I’ve only been sitting around?” Yuta gave his friend a scowl. “If it’s a new program, even used before its beta phase, it’s not so easy.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Okay, enough guys!” you interrupted their bickering. “Taeyong let Yuta work and peace and rather go through the city's plan for next week with me to mark all new construction sites, okay?”

In unison, they both said, “Fine.”

Taeyong turned to you while you started your own laptop to leave Yuta alone, and Jaehyun and Johnny were currently outside to maintain his car. You felt so included like never before in your life.

You’ve always said you didn’t grow up with a family. But sometimes, a family wasn’t something that you necessarily grew up with. Family also didn’t need to be bonded by blood. Sometimes, you lost family along the way, sometimes you gained one. And everyone would always welcome you into their family.

In your case, you gained a family in the form of a strong friendship that you had never experienced before in your life. Sitting here, analyzing maps with Taeyong while Yuta was silently typing away and Johnny and Jaehyun would soon come upstairs to talk about the next race after which you would all order food and then watch a movie together…

This was your own definition of family. This feeling of being cared for, trusted and loved without expecting anything in return, so much that it almost felt like your heart was going to burst. Your team was your family.

“I want to show you a place,” Jaehyun said when you were sitting in his car when all the work was done later that evening.

“Don’t you need to go home as usual?”

“My sister is having a sleepover at a friend’s house.” He smiled. “So I think my mom will enjoy a little more alone time to rest better.”

“Okay, then let’s go!”

Jaehyun stopped the car only much later after you had driven up a mound with a path so narrow, you feared the vehicle wouldn’t make it despite all its tuning. But against your expectations, you arrived at the top in that very same car, and the view over the entire city was splendid.

“I didn’t know such a place existed!” you called out and ran around the viewing place. “Jaehyun, I can see the entire city, and we’re not even on a mountain!”

“Do you like it?” he asked, following suit.

“I love it!”

“And I-”

“Hm?” You turned around to him with the biggest smile on your face. “What is it?”

He shook his head with a soft look on his face. “Nothing.” Then, he stepped close to you and hugged you from behind. “I’m happy you love it. It’s my favorite place. After the incident with my father happened, my sister and I came here a lot, because it made us forget reality for quite a while.”

“Thank you for sharing this special place with me.” You felt him kissing the nape of your neck and you shuddered pleasantly. “It really means a lot.”

The true meaning of it was revealed to you by him right after, “I spent most of the time here before my comeback. I wanted to give up on racing entirely. One night, I didn’t come home and my sister went to look for me which took her all night. I lost track of time, and I probably felt so ashamed returning to my family. When My sister found me here at the early hours of dawn, looking like a ghost and having cried all the way to this place, I knew that I had to do everything to protect my family. That’s when I dropped out of university and decided to race again. One day, I don’t want to do this anymore. One day, I’ll be free.”

You loosened yourself from his hug, shifted around and embraced him now from the front, body to body. “You’ll be one day, Jaehyun.” He gently brushed his fingers through your hair. “One day, you can provide your family the life they deserve and can finally live the one you have dreamed about as well.”

“But do I deserve it after everything that I’ve done?” He sounded full of doubts. “I’m not sure.”

You responded, quite confidently, “You do.”

“Actually,” Jaehyun changed the topic, “This car was my dad’s. He owned two, a big, elegant one to show off at work, and this one for his free time. It’s the only thing that was left, because it was registered to my mom’s name before I changed it to mine.”

You were curious about one topic. “Why did you never sell it? You only started racing after his arrest, right? Why have you never exchanged it for money?”

“I thought about it, a lot, in fact,” he clarified. “Maintaining a car is a very expensive hobby, after all. Apart from the fact that races became my source of income as it makes money fast and much, I think a part of me can’t also fully let go of my father.” He chuckled, but rather bitter and full of regret. “Isn’t it ironic? I think of it like my father repaying the debts he caused. It's satisfying.”

A wicked thought, but you liked the way he thought about it.

“Hey,” you then said, grinning, “do you want to get back at him once more?”

____

“Close your mouth and suck.”

This time, Jaehyun didn’t mean the lollipop he had put into your mouth, but something entirely else. 

Luckily, the front seats of his car were able to be raised back all the way, so he was now lying almost flat on his back, his hands gently but determinedly having guided your head to his loin while you were sitting between his angled legs. You did as you had been told and sucked him off like a lollipop. 

Your arms were propped up against the edges of the seat with your head bobbing up and down in a regular rhythm, but your tongue did the most work whenever you paused your neck movements just to indulge him with your proficiency.

“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun cursed and put his forearm over his face so that his facial expressions would be hidden from you. It was like he didn’t want you to know how much control you had over him, but this was for no avail anyway as his swearing gave it all away, “No fucking way…”

It was certainly not your first time sucking him off, so it wasn’t like you didn’t know what he looked like enjoying this kind of pleasure. You found it rather cute how he still thought he could hide this side of him from you. 

Your tongue rolled over the tip of his dick, leaving a trace of saliva where it passed. Making sure you covered every angle with your motions, you halted them when you opened your mouth entirely and slowly took in the majority of his length until you felt like you couldn’t do more.

Jaehyun let out a groan that made you smile inwardly, and it only got louder when you let him pass by your lips, but didn’t let him slip out entirely. Instead, you sucked on the tip like the cherry lollipop he often offered you. 

You made sure to alternate between sucking and taking him into your mouth almost entirely, and when your left hand wandered to his warm thigh, you felt how tense he had become due to the arousal you made him feel. Instead of letting your hand go back though, Jaehyun stretched out his own to grab your fingers and intertwined them.

His nails dug into your skin and his thighs became very tense, closing around the sides of your face when his release was near. He came in a long spur directly into your mouth, and you swallowed it all down, including cleaning him up - with your tongue of course.

Jaehyun reached out to your face while you were licking over your lips, and you smiled at each other before his own gradually grew more wicked.

“You know what?”

“What?” You wiped with the back of your hand over your lips.

“I also never had sex in this car. Wanna change that?”

He didn’t need to ask twice.

Although it was still very narrow in the vehicle, Jaehyun had swiftly managed to change your positions so that you were now lying underneath him and he was kneeling in front of you in a crouched position. You giggled amusedly when you watched him taking off his shirt as he tried to do so without bumping into anything, but this had been an impossible task from the very beginning. Luckily, you had undressed yourself before already, so that he didn’t need to take care of that part too.

You assumed Jaehyun still needed a bit of time until he could go in fully again, but what would come before that, you had never expected. Your fingers were desperately gripping onto the door handle while your other hand was holding onto the seat belt that slowly dug into your flesh. But this slight pain passed by you almost unnoticeably when another feeling had taken control over your entire body and mind already.

You had already experienced how skillful Jaehyun was with his tongue whenever you kissed, which was long before indicated by the way he played with lollipops in his mouth. Of course he would put this skill into use elsewhere too. 

But that he would be this good… You shuddered again when you came the second time in the span of a few minutes after Jaehyun had draped his hot, wet tongue all along your folds, causing your back to lift off from the seat and moaning his name over and over again.

And even then, he didn’t stop. He came to face you after cleaning off his mouth, and kissed you for a long time until you had entirely calmed down before he crawled back to his original position and squeezed his fingers into your bum again to bring it closer to his face. 

With the tip of his tongue, he searched for the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you indicated that he had found it when you let out a light squeal. His lips enclosed the bud and you felt all your blood vanishing from your face when he started sucking on it. Oh god, you thought to yourself, you were surely going to pass out.

But he didn’t let you cum this time. Before you released, Jaehyun stopped and flipped you onto your stomach as swiftly as the narrow space allowed him to. Instinctively, you had already brought your bum up to give him better access, and you bit down into the flesh of your arm on which you had your chin rested when you felt him sliding into you from behind in one long motion.

The sound of his groin slapping against your cheeks mixed with your moans filled the car, and luckily, you had been the only ones on this view point at such a later hour. You had only had sex with Jaehyun once in your home, and you had never defined what that was between you. Maybe, you were too dense to speak it out and too naive to actually believe it, but you loved him.

Ironically, you only realized that when you decided to change positions and Jaehyun was constantly bumping his head on the ceiling and you got on top. You were settled on his hips, his length buried deep inside you, but you didn’t move yet.

You let your fingertips wander over his chest, taking your time, and he suddenly grabbed them, led them to his mouth and kissed the tips. When you gazes locked, you were sure. 

Yes, you loved him. With all his flaws, his burdens and his past. Perhaps, you had never experienced this kind of love, which was why you had always been reluctant and unsure, but if this wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was. You just hoped that at one point, he would come to feel this way about you too.

“What is it?” he asked with worry when you made no intention of continuing. “Is something wrong? You want to stop?”

But you shook your head. “It’s just… I don’t want this moment to pass.”

Even in the semi-darkness, you encountered Jaehyun’s smile. “I feel the same way.”

Slowly, you raised your hips and slowly came back down to his groin. Jaehyun tried very hard to remain in eye contact with you, but when you did that several times more, he lost his composure again. You propped your hands up against his hard chest and picked up your pace, slamming onto him over and over again in a fast pace.

When you ran out of breath, you alternated the fast motions with sitting on his lap and just letting your hips rotate in different directions and forms, which very much pleased Jaehyun as well by the way he didn’t stop moaning at this part as well.

With time though, your stamina gave in, you slumped over him, eventually let yourself fall onto his chest, because you were too exhausted to go on anymore.

“Want me to finish?” he asked and stroked your shoulder to which you could only give a slight nod.

He kept you locked to his hips with his hands holding onto your sides very tightly and started thrusting upwards. You felt like he had knocked all the air out of your lungs, that was much much power he still possessed. Luckily, for you, you didn’t need to do anything anymore.

He was holding you as you laid on top of him, biting into his shoulder as he thrusted in and out of you with much force, which you really liked. Your thighs tensed around his sides and you whimpered gibberish into his ear, so close to cumming again.

Jaehyun let you release yourself first with a suppressed scream that partly still found a way to escape your lips, and your entire body shook as you felt your high flooding to every fiber of your body. He himself didn’t take much longer and you held him while he experienced his own orgasm, pressing you so close to him as though he was afraid of being parted from you ever again.

When you were getting dressed, he suddenly dropped, “I could get used to it.”

“Doing nasty things in your dad’s old car?” you joked.

But his expression remained serious. “No.”

You didn’t know what he meant.

____

You had written two different versions of Jaehyun’s story.

The first was the one he had read himself and approved of. There were only a few details and personal information sprinkled in here and there about the Falcon while you were trying to fill the emotional gaps with anecdotes and quotes from the other team members under an alias that they were willing to share. You were even successful in interviewing a few spectators and it would include the outcome of the race. 

Overall, the less personal and official version gave a good overview over this illegal sport, and you were truly satisfied with this tame version. It was sufficient enough, intriguing enough and informative as well as emotional enough. At other magazines, the story would have made the headlines, you were sure of that. But for the magazine you worked for, enough was only good enough. You had to be better than enough, you had to exceed.

With this version of the Falcon’s story, you certainly weren’t. It wasn’t headline-material like your editor-in-chief expected after all the work you had put into it.

So you had written another version of this story. 

One in which you talked about the Falcon’s past, his family, what had really happened back then before his career arose again and the relationships between you all. Yes, even between the two of you. And you had even come forward with the truth about the politician after hard research. This version of the story was personal and vulnerable, and it was the truth.

Jaehyun had gotten to read it as the first and only one. 

“It wasn’t.. entirely my fault?” he had asked in disbelief when you gave him the story to read.

You had wanted to wait until you had gotten your facts straight, had enough proof, and then came over to his house to lay it out all in front of him. First, you were unsure whether he would like it, to have had you dig deep into his past. 

But if he came to hate you and started to hate himself less instead, then it would have been worth it nonetheless. From one moment to the other though, you clearly saw in his eyes how much of a burden got lifted off his shoulder. Sure, the fact that the politician had been intoxicated didn’t change the fact that Jaehyun was way over the tempo limit, but he hadn’t been the only one at fault.

The politician had been intoxicated with drugs to the point of not being able to walk properly and had remained in the middle of the street, too far gone to think and speak straightly when Jaehyun had passed by.

“No, it wasn’t entirely your fault,” you assured him.

And with that certainty, you both decided to move past this as this case - to both parties luck, fortunately - had long been decided to be buried under the rug anyway. 

Jaehyun didn’t come to hate you, you felt it in the way he hugged you close and never seemed to let you go after this revelation. He was, in fact, utterly grateful that you had never let go of this topic.

It was a step closer to him being free. From the very beginning, you knew which version you would publish after the race against the Cheetah. You had begged your boss to postpone the release for another month for you to include this race, and he had happily agreed - even to hold off the senior editor position.

____

“Are you nervous?”

You looked at Taeyong who took the seat next to you. Somehow, you weren’t nervous at all, even though tonight was Jaehyun’s big race against the Cheetah with so much money involved unlike ever before.

Later, you would also finish up the story with the outcome of the race and send it over still this night for the entire country to read. Perhaps, you were more nervous about this than the competition itself since you fully trusted your gained skills and Jaehyun himself. You wouldn’t treat this other than all the races before.

“I’m cool so far,” you said. “I just don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

“I hope it’s good. Jaehyun is probably more nervous than he lets slip.”

“I can hear you.” It was Jaehyun’s voice through your headsets.

“Good!” Taeyong exclaimed. “This wasn’t supposed to be a secret.”

You giggled just in the moment Yuta came over to you and put a usb on your desk. Just a few days before, you both had figured out how the new navigation system worked. 

“Just plug it in and do as I told you.”

You nodded and reached for the stick. There were only ten minutes remaining. You had never seen this many people wanting to watch a race before and the tension was sizzling, not only between the teams, but between the spectators too. As far as you had heard, the bets were almost equally split as though no one could decide who would win in their eyes. The Cheetah’s team was in another building, and you wondered whether they were still nervous with the amount of times they had already won so war.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard Jaehyun through the headphones.

“Yes?”

Apparently, he had muted himself for Taeyong since he didn’t respond, but typed something into the computer and then turned around to talk to Johnny and Yuta.

“If something happens,” Jaehyun spoke, “no matter what, will you be with me until the end?”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean it.”

You frowned. “Mean what?”

He sighed deeply as if he was struggling inwardly trying to find the right words. “Will you be with me… until the end?”

“Of course!” you replied happily.

“No! I mean... shit.”

What did he want? “I don’t get it.” 

“I love you.”

You were stunned. 

It was the first time he had said this to you. The first time someone had said this to you. For how long had he been feeling this way already? Was there a chance he’d been in love with you for as long as you loved him too? You were long lost for words and before you could even inhale to say something back, Taeyong was by your side again.

“You guys ready?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered quickly as though nothing had ever happened.

“Then get ready.”

____

The moment the race started, you got to witness with your own eyes why the Cheetah was called the Cheetah. Jaehyun was already a remarkable racer, but his rival was immaculate. 

You wouldn’t be Jaehyun’s navigator though if you hadn’t grown together throughout the past weeks. You were his additional eyes, ears and mind. Whatever he lacked or hadn't perfected, you carried out together, making him even stronger so that as of right now, he could easily take it on the Cheetah. You were going to win, that was how much trust you had in you both.

Midway through the race though, which was a real head-to-head contest that had eventually shaken off a part of your tranquility and replaced it with a bit of nervousness because of a few instances from which you quickly recovered nonetheless, Jaehyun started to panic.

“Shit, we didn’t see this coming!” 

He complained about a construction site that had not been on your screen, but only popped up now. As of this instance, he was in advance, being in front of the Cheetah. Now, it was on you for how long he could hold that position.

“Don’t worry,” you tried to calm Jaehyun down while your heart raced almost as fast as the car itself right now. “I got you.”

“Why didn’t the new navigation system that Yuta gave you see it coming?” It sounded almost like an accusation and Taeyong shot a meaningful look at you from the side. “There are construction vehicles all around it!”

“Hey.” You didn’t raise your voice, you just wanted Jaehyun to snap out of his mental deadlock since he was too into it. “Stay calm.”

Sometimes, this happened. And if he was too panicked, he’d lose focus and make mistakes. That was why you were here. By now, you knew how to handle them and not let him irritate you or vice versa.

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun had instant regrets. “I just want to win, I need to win.”

“I know. But to win, you have to trust me.”

You could only imagine his fingers gripping onto the steering wheel like his life depended on it, the knuckles first turning red, then white. 

“I can’t lose,” he breathed and repeated like a mantra, “I can’t lose.”

On the screen, you perceived that he wasn’t as fast and sharp with his driving anymore, the Cheetah drawing closer to erase the remaining meters between the two cars. The vehicles appeared on the screen as dots on a map, the two that represented the racing cars now almost melting into one. Your entire team had gathered around you and were listening to you speak, only you and Taeyong knowing the details of your driver’s panic so far. 

“You won’t lose, because I’m here with you, Jaehyun,” you assured him slowly, aware that in such kind of situations, you had to pretend to be calm to keep the driver at peace, even though you were tense as hell too. “It’s me, okay? I love you too, and I will be with you until the end. I know the meaning of this now, and of course I will.”

Silence - not only on the other side of the headset, but also in the hall among your team.

“Please say something,” you addressed to Jaehyun while ignoring all the other members’ grins. “This is kind of really embarrassing now.”

“I-I… I can’t,” he stuttered. “I’m… too happy.”

You smiled. Even though you were only connected via voice and there were other people standing behind you, you felt more connected to Jaehyun like never before. 

“Are you ready to win this game with me now?” you asked him.

You felt his confident grin in every fiber of your body, it had given him the boost he needed. "Absolutely." 

“Hey, we’re here too!” Johnny interrupted you. “What about us?”

“Get lost.” Jaehyun returned back to his grumble, but everyone knew that he didn’t mean it this way.

When you all broke out into a laughter together that lifted off the tension, even just a little bit, you finally felt like you had long reached the finish line. Not in terms of the race, but in terms of other things. 

Trust, friendship and even love.

Because even if you had been among them only for a few weeks, you couldn’t imagine a better feeling than the warmth they caused you to experience right now with Johnny putting his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, Taeyong smiling at you as he pointed at something on the screen, and Yuta rolling his eyes, seemingly not minding, but silently enjoying the entire situation.

This was it. This was your family. There was no deeper connection than you had with your team. You were going to win.

____

And you did.

Jaehyun crossed the finish line first.

Jaehyun won against the Cheetah.

Jaehyun was crowned King of the Streets.

…

But he didn’t last on the throne for long. 

Only eight hours.

____

“King of the Streets” 

… was the headline of your story that you finished late at night and sent over to your editor-in-chief so that it could still be printed for next month’s issue with the intention to be published the morning after.

____

“Congratulations.”

“Pardon?”

You were sitting in your boss’ office, the same chair, the same desk, the same window and the same view in sight. A few weeks ago, this had meant everything to you. You had wanted this, so badly, and you would have done everything for it. Now, it meant nothing anymore.

You hadn’t seen the new issue yet, that was not why you had come here. In your hands, you were holding a notice, but it had got nothing to do with what you had handed in the night before.

“‘King of the Streets’? I couldn’t have thought of a better title.” Your boss the issue in front of your eyes, but you rarely paid attention to it. “It’s great that you went with the way of leaving out the guy’s real name and even the politician’s name. Honestly, if I didn’t know who it was myself, I wouldn’t be able to guess. Now, people will get invested and do some digging. Congratulations on your promotion to senior editor!”

“Pardon?” you repeated.

You hadn’t written about the politician as agreed on. In fact, you had left out the entire storyline about the incident. That was why you had been so sure the story wouldn’t make headlines, and in your hands you were actually holding your resignation notice. You didn’t want to become senior editor. You wanted to quit.

With trembling hands, you reached out to the newest issue and looked at the headline. Indeed, this was your title “King of the Streets” with a stock photo that showed cars by night in front of a skyline. Your breath shortened when you searched for the right page and you felt like the air was being cut in your lungs when you stumbled over the story and started reading.

This was not your article. At least not the one that had been supposed to get published. It was the one only Jaehyun had gotten to read earlier, his very own, personal version. You felt sick in your stomach. How was this possible? Had you been hacked? Had someone secretly gotten access to your laptop?

“I… I sent you this?” Your voice shook with each syllable.

The editor-in-chief nodded. “Only a few minutes before the boring, second one. Of course I went with the first one. Who wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t send you this!” you nearly screamed. “How could you have published this?!”’

“Please calm down, Miss. This was sent from your very own email.”

“Show me,” you demanded and smacked the issue back on the desk. “Show me the mail!”

He sighed deeply and murmured something about short term memory, but you didn’t care much about his shenanigans anymore. Either way, today was the last day you’d ever interact. You’d just leave, what could he possibly do about it?

When your ex-boss shifted the desktop into your direction, you directly noticed, “This is not my work mail.”

It was your usual mailing name from a random provider, but neither your work mail address or your private one. Everything was similar except for the domain, indicating that someone had made this up on purpose.

“Yes, but I figured you might be using another mail, because you weren’t at home or didn’t have access. It was the big competition, so it was possible, right? Aside from that, this is your topic and writing style, even signed with your name. How could I have doubted it? I mean… this is your story after all, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

There was nothing you could say to defend yourself in front of him. You had written this all yourself, and the fact that it had gotten leaked wasn’t his problem.  But someone else’s…

“I have to go,” you said.

“Well, when will you come back? We have to talk about your new position’s details.”

You laughed bitterly and didn’t forget to drop the letter on his desk. “I won’t come back.”

You didn’t care about your belongings. You just grabbed your bag, jacket and laptop and left the office without saying goodbye to anyone. The only thing on your mind right now was that you had to talk to Jaehyun and explain everything to him.

The more surprised you were to find him already sitting in the lobby. You were stunned, but as you continued your movements towards him, Jaehyun looked up, and your blood froze. He wore the biggest scowl on his face, and hidden behind it was the one emotion that hurt you the most: disappointment.

“Jaeh-”

“How could you?!” he yelled and arose from the coach, but he didn’t approach you. “I trusted you!”

You were assured it wasn’t because he was afraid he'd lose himself. He just couldn’t look you in the eyes as disappointment came forward more and more, revealing his true feelings. He couldn’t keep the angry facade up for much longer upon meeting you, the person he loved. But you still saw. Jaehyun was utterly hurt, and it was caused by this very same person.

You didn’t need to explain yourself, it wouldn’t change anything. You had betrayed and disappointed him like his father had, and there was no excuse for it. His entire past and deepest conflits had just been revealed to the country, and even though it wasn’t you who had published the story, you were the one who had written it.

Telling Jaehyun that it hadn’t been sent in by you wouldn’t change a single thing. The deed had already been done and there was no going back. You were just another person he had entirely lost faith and trust in, and there was no way for it to be restored. At least not right now, not immediately.

Jaehyun clenched his fists and pressed through gritted teeth, “You promised to me, I trusted you.”

Every syllable he directed at you pierced directly through your heart. You shouldn’t have written anything in the first place, it should have just stayed between the two of you. What had you thought while writing all of this? That you were doing him a favor? For what? No, it wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldn’t make him less sad and disappointed if he knew that you weren’t the person who had published it.

So you simply said, “I’m sorry, I should have never written this story.” 

“I’ve always known you journalists were selfish bastards after all,” he hissed.

No heartbreak that you had ever experienced before came close to what you were feeling right now. At this point, you thought that you had been left by so many people in your life that you would need to entirely shut down.

Jaehyun didn’t speak it out, but you certainly sensed that he was going to leave you now, too. This was what you got for always being so nosy, for wanting so much and giving everything for it. In the end, when you reached your aim, everything didn’t matter when you lost every person that meant the world to you along the way.

“Get lost! Keep out of my sight and don’t ever dare talking to me again!”

When Jaehyun turned around without looking at you one more time, it felt like you were dying. So many people had walked out of your life already, and the man you loved the most being one of them hadn’t been in your book before. But now, it was very much real. It felt hurtfully real.

“Miss, are you okay?” the receptionist asked when she was approaching you.

You hadn’t noticed how your notebook had fallen on the floor, paper flying around everywhere. You were still looking after Jaehyun, petrified, while the young woman started to collect the sheets by your feet, but you barely noticed her. How was one to function, when they had lost what they loved the most?

Not much later, the receptionist was holding your arm after you had broken down crying in the middle of all your belongings. There was no one else anymore who could have emotionally supported you anyway, so who did it now was irrelevant to you.It didn’t help one bit though.

____

“Jiyeong?”

“Can I come in?”

It had been two weeks since Jaehyun had walked out of your life and you quit your job. Every minute of the day, you were hoping that he would come by to talk it all out. Not once had you hoped that his sister would do so instead of him.

“Sure.”

When she took off her shoes, walked past your small entrance and into your room, her eyes widened. “Why the many moving boxes? Are you…”

“I’ll be going away.”

“Where to?”

You smiled, but remained quiet, and Jiyeong immediately understood. 

You didn’t want her to know and no one else either. Not because you were afraid that she or someone else would tell anyone, but because telling anyone at all would open the possibility of getting haunted by your past again. And this time, you just really wanted a clean cut.

“When are you leaving?” she asked instead, not even mildly offended to your relief.

“Next week.”

“I wish you all the best.”

“Thank you, Jiyeong. I really appreciate that.”

“Please don’t say this so easily.” Her expression changed into a pained one. “You’ll hate me from now on.”

“Why would I possibly hate you?”

She didn’t reply immediately, but nervously stepped from one foot on the other. She barely dared to look into your eyes, kneading her fingers nervously. “Because it was me.”

You were confused. “What?”

Even a bit quieter, she confessed, “It was me who sent the story to your boss.”

You were lost for words and still in hope you had heard wrong. “You sent the published story to my magazine that night?”

Slowly, Jiyeong nodded. “Yes. I found the story still open on my brother’s laptop when I went into his room to look for a charger. I couldn’t look past it, I really needed to read it. And it was so beautiful. My brother is just so deeply misunderstood, I was so relieved someone else saw it. So I wanted the entire country to know too.”

It was a lot for you to take in, and you still couldn’t believe this was real. “Did you create a fake mail account in my name and send it to my boss this way?”

“Yes. The mail from you with the article was still open, so it was easy to secure a similar address. I just acted on my personal intentions and disregarded your and my family’s feelings. I didn’t know what I would cause by doing that. I didn’t know I would not only get our mother worried, but hurt my brother and you too. I deeply apologize.”

“Jiyeong…”

“I thought,” she interrupted you, “I thought everyone would finally see my brother the way my mom, I, his friends and you see him. That he’s more than all that people paint him to be, and that the incident back then was different from everyone’s make up story. Never have I thought that I would not only ruin the lives of the people involved too, the least his or yours. I tried to change it up and make it as anonymous as possible, but I’m only writing in school, I don't have any real life experience, I’m still a child. I didn’t want all  that, that was not supposed to happen! What was I thinking?!”

Her voice gradually grew louder and more upset, and when she hit the last sentence, she was close to tears. 

You remembered the time when you were a teenager. There had been some grave mistakes you had made and many words you had said that you would want to have taken back immediately, but the deed had already been done and feelings had been hurt, including yours. Sometimes, the guilt gnawed on you like a parasite that never stopped being hungry.

You had never wanted to become a person who made someone else live with that feeling forever. In front of you just stood a teenage girl who had wanted to do the right thing and who just didn’t know what the right thing was. So you stretched out your arms and pulled her into an embrace. Jiyeon begged you over and over again to not hate her or her brother. You loved both of them dearly, how could you?

When she left after sharing a bottle of ice cream with you to soothe your both shaken up feelings, you also learned that Jaehyun had been informed about Jiyeong’s misconduct directly after he had come home the day the story was published - so two weeks ago.

This entire time, he knew. He had known all along and he never contacted you.

You hoped so badly that Jaehyun would still come. You were even still holding onto the slightest sliver of hope the day you moved away from Seoul, until the moment you closed your empty apartment door behind you.

But he never came.

It was just as you thought: It didn’t change anything, whether you or anyone else had sent in the story. The outcome would have always been the same.

So, if Jaehyun had decided to move on, then you would too.

Even though you had lived one of the best times of your life in that city, now it bearded nothing but a sorrowful past and broken dreams. 

You wanted to move on, too.

____

2 years later

Moving out of a city didn’t simultaneously mean continuing on.

You had first needed to learn how to start life all over again.

It hadn’t been easy to begin again in Daejeon. It had taken quite a bit of time to find an affordable apartment, although the city was much less populated than the capital. It had even taken you much longer to find a job that fitted you more than the last one, and only recently had you settled with a new friend group.

Overall, life was going pretty well for you now.

Were it not for the fact that you still missed Jaehyun with every fiber of your heart.

After your published story, many newspapers had made follow up articles, even leaking the party chairman’s name. Of course he had then been fired from his position and the party would not make it to be one of those with the highest votes anymore. 

Not a word was lost about the Falcon though. It was like he had never existed.

But you knew better.

Jaehyun had stopped street racing entirely and had enrolled back into university for his last year. He had taken the last race’s prize money to pay off the family’s debt - his entire team had left their amount to help him out this time, including you. This had allowed him to sell his car and start working part time in an electric shop. 

It hadn’t been by far as much as he had earned as a racer, but they had made ends meet with honest work.

You were wholeheartedly happy for him when Taeyong had told you all this one day when you had met in Daejong a year ago.

“He misses you very much too,” he had said, and you had smiled lightly.

“I thought he hated me.”

“Did you forget what he said during his last race?”

That he loved you. 

“I will never forget.”

Jaehyun had won the biggest race in his whole career, but he still wasn’t entirely free. Being crowned King of the Streets, having won a lot of money and becoming popular as well as getting your love - all that hadn’t set him free from his past.

“But now, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you had added, speaking to Taeyong.

He had wanted more time not only for, but also with his mom and sister. Being a good son and brother like his father could have never been.

Jaehyun couldn't put his life on hold to leave his family eventually, too. You had understood, so you had quietly accepted all this, letting him go and focus on the things he saw as important now. Where it had been racing and winning before, his priorities had entirely shifted.

If your love wasn’t part of this anymore but had made him realize this, then what more could you ask for?

By now, another year later, Jaehyun must have graduated from university already and his sister must be a sophomore in high school. Every now and then, you thought about them and prayed for their safety, but your life wasn’t on hold anymore.

“Miss, your interview partner is waiting in the lobby.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You took your notebook from your desk and walked out of your office. The room wasn’t as big as the one in your old company and the view was not as splendid, but you were editor-in-chief for the city's biggest magazine. You could write about things you really cared about like politics and things going on in town, nobody pressured you to cover topics that required you to do criminal things.

The company fitted your personality, your morals. It was perfect for you. 

A week ago, you had gotten a request from someone who claimed to have a really good story for you. Even after telling the person via mail that your magazine didn’t take on this kind of sensational story, the person was being persistent, so you gave in and were open to hear what they had to say.

“Good morning, I-”

The last words got stuck in your throat and your breath caught simultaneously. You let your notebook nearly slip from your hands upon encountering your today’s interview partner.

“Good morning.”

He smiled the smile you had lured out of him only after a few weeks of knowing each other. In these two years, he hadn’t changed one bit. He looked more mature and admittedly also more relaxed, the scowl entirely gone. His clothes had changed into more sophisticated ones as he wore black dress pants and a white button up.

“Life’s been treating you well,” he added. “I’m happy for you.”

His deep, soft voice let you nearly melt again, but you were a professional, so you regained your composure real quick. 

“I heard you have a really good story for me Mr. Jeong,” you smiled. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

____

Jaehyun wanted you to publish a story. 

This time, with him and with his name written all over it.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, I don’t want to have secrets. I want to come clear, not only with myself, my family and friends, but also with everyone involved. I’ve already gathered permission from everyone, and even though it admittedly took me very long to reach this conclusion, I’m a hundred percent sure I want to do it. And most importantly, I want you to do it.”

It would be his personal story, from his own point of view where he would talk about his past, his father’s wrongdoings, his struggles and what he had been up to since his final race. He asked you to sell this story to your old company for a wider audience and for a follow up. 

Legally, he weighed himself secure since he had talked to a few layers before making this decision. It was all for his conscience. If this helped Jaehyun finally move on entirely, then you would happily do it for him.

“Back then, during my last race, my navigator had never used the new system. I only found out much later.”

You paused your writing and looked up. You had settled yourselves in a conference room to work on this story without any interruptions. “Why did she never use it, Mr. Jeong?”

“She had so much faith and trust in our connection, she was sure she could do it without, that was how much she believed in me.”

You lowered your head and pretended to write, but out came only gibberish. Your heart was racing. You always fondly thought back to that time. “She must have been a real baddie,” you joked.

“She was.” The corners of Jaehyun’s lips curled upwards. “I don’t regret anything except for one thing.”

“Which is…?”

“Letting her go.”

You were asking yourself why you suddenly couldn’t see anymore as your vision was very blurry. When you wiped the back of your hand over your eyes, you realized that you had started crying, and the tears had stained the writing on your paper.

“I have one more question for you,” you only brought out.

“Yes?”

“Have you married yet, Mr. Jeong?”

The pause that followed almost tore you apart as you closed your eyes and prayed inwardly.

“I’ve been waiting for a special person to return to Seoul,” he nearly whispered. “When she didn’t, I went to search for her.”

You looked up to him, tears still burning on the brim, but somehow, you didn’t feel sad anymore. You felt more overwhelmed with this entire revelation that caused your heart to finally flutter again. 

You had never stopped loving Jaehyun.

“And… what if that person doesn’t want to go back to Seoul?”

Jaehyun stretched out his hand and laid his palm against your cheek, wiping away your tears. It felt so familiar and warm, a feeling you had deeply missed. Even though there was still a respectful distance between you that had built up in the past two years, the connection was as deep and intense as ever. 

It was at this moment that you realized Jaehyun had never stopped loving you too.

“Then, I’ll go wherever she goes.”

[jeongin-lvr]

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ clueless, y. jeongin

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇！𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾，𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋，𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾，𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖫𝖬𝖥𝖠𝖮𝖮，𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌，𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ＆ 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅，𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾，𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀，edited．

[ 𝟤．𝟫𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ⭑ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ⭑ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

YOUR boyfriend was so clueless in all aspects of women. Sometimes it was funny and other times it was genuinely shocking how little he knew; Jeongin was always nose down in books, easily flustered, yet incredibly attractive. Like borderline insane how attractive he was. Which made it even more of a mystery as to how he has never had a girlfriend, let alone been with a woman.

You often poked fun at him for him, though it was all innocent. At least for the first few months of the relationship.

"Innie, you are such a pretty boy," You would tease whilst leaning against his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder so absentmindedly, though you knew how easily flustered he could get. Jeongin would gush at your compliments with fire in his cute cheeks, squishing to you closer to bury his head into your heavenly hair. Then you'd continue, chuckling as you patted his shoulder and held him, "Bet you have a pretty cock too..." you'd whisper into his ear, leaving him shocked and clueless.

"What—" And them you'd be on about something else, pretending nothing was ever said. As if your words didn't leave his (in fact, very pretty) cock half-hard and beginning to sting with sin, a small stain of wetness from the tip tattooing his sweat pants a darker shade.

But now it was getting a lot less harder to ignore your sinful words. At first he could excuse himself, fix his problem and go back to you (admittedly, a little more flustered). Now, this would happen often the more comfortable the two of you got with each other. From teasing comments to full blown make out sessions— nearly ending with you on his lap riding him. But he always backed out, not because of fear but because he's never done it before (okay, maybe a little fear).

He was inexperienced and he didn't want to blow a load too early; he also didn't want to disappoint you with how little he knew.

And, of course, you'd always smile and give him a gentle kiss when things got too heated. Telling him it's fine and you'll wait for him as long as he needs, settling back into the sofa cushions with a content sigh as you watched the movie you'd put on an hour before, now already at the end.

However, Jeongin was ready. He knew it, he could feel it inside of him. Each time he'd have you underneath him, or you on top of him with a flirty giggle, he knew he wanted to take off your clothes and please you. Jeongin knew with every ounce of his being, every atom longed for you.

So he was determined now. 6 months into the relationship and he was ready to take charge... the only problem was, how?

"Innie, baby, hey," You called, obviously confused as to why he wasn't answering you mid-conversation. Your head whipped around to him away from the screen, catching his eyes staring at you already, though not into your eyes. His gaze was set on your pudgy thighs that lay so barren due to your shorts (or maybe lack of). Adding to the fire was the fact that you wore his big hoodie that he always wore, so it's as if the smell was imbedded into it, pristine and constantly fresh. And that barely covered your thighs, dangling over your body like a shadow of fabric.

Jeongin opened his mouth, dry and a bit flustered, "Sorry, what??" His eyes met yours, cute voice slurred with obvious embarrassment. His pink lips were chapped but you thought that was nothing a little kiss couldn't fix.

"What're you staring at, handsome?" You teased him, poking his cheek with a neatly manicured finger, giggling as you scooted over to him. Jeongin huffed with a pout, tugging his hoodie down to cover the (hopefully not so) obvious bulge beginning to grow in his jeans. But, obviously, you caught it.

"Don't call me that, baby," Jeongin knew that you knew what effect that nickname had on him. It was so cute and innocent yet when they came out of your lips they had a sinful twinge. Like it was drenched in the sex that was beginning to ruminate in the thick, tensed air, "Such a meanie..."

You chuckled darkly, draping one leg over his and sitting so that his cute thigh lay between yours, parting your legs so nicely.

"Why? Does it make you nervous, hm?"

Jeongin looked you dead in the eye, breath stuttering and teeth parted to showcase that cute tongue; the tongue you just wanted to have in your mouth.

"Love, you know why," Your boyfriend droned with a familiar pout. Poor boy stopped for a minute, hesitating to rest his hands on your hips but mustering up the courage with a red face. You tilted your head, a bit confused as his eyes grew a tone more serious, chocolate irises now the hue of dusk, "Uhm... hey, baby... I wanna ask you something."

"Shoot," You looped your arms around his neck, connecting in the back of his hair whilst skillfully playing with the ends of his deep black strands.

Jeongin ignored how his cock ached suddenly at the feeling of your hands in his hair. How it felt when you pulled at the strands just gently but enough for him to shiver. Jeongin silently wondered if he was really gonna do this or if he'd end up in the bathroom again, cock in hand, wondering why he was such a loser.

"Okay, so, um, you know how I-I always say that I want to wait? To, y'know—"

You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, a dust of cherries underneath your skin, "Yes, I know."

"Okay, well—" Jeongin hesitated, his eyes dead set on yours, unknowingly squeezing your hips as he tried to compose himself, "I think I'm ready."

Your eyes widened, meeting his with a soft coo as you ran a gentle hand through his soft locks. Jeongin hissed softly, still insistent in keeping your eyes locked but slowly losing his composure the more you stared.

"You're ready?" You asked, already pooling in your underwear.

Jeongin nodded, kissing your wrist that laid beside his cheek, as if to confirm to you through the silence, "I've been ready— I just want— I want to do this."

You cracked a smile, "Do this? Or do me?"

"Stopp," He whined, trailing a trembling hand up your waist then to your cheek, resting softly on your warm flesh now. His thumb gently rubbing, to his pleasure he felt your skin burning, seeing them red with love, "I'm serious, pretty." His voice was low now, if anyone else was in the room, no one else but you would hear. It was just for you. Like a gift.

"I know, Innie," You whispered back, suddenly you were the nervous one, hands dropping down to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it increased like the sound of a bass drum, "I'm serious too. If y-you're ready, so am I. Promise."

Jeongin felt somehow relieved yet at the same time more nervous. He could feel every ounce of sincerity within your words, your tone too. He already felt so intimate and nothing had even begun.

"Love you, pretty boy," You whispered again, leaning forward to meet his lips, melting into them, "Love you s'much," You muttered against his lips as they immediately meshed with yours, the intensity of every kiss growing. At this point, Jeongin's cock was throbbing just from hearing you say all of that. His hands were gently, timidly prying at your clothes, wanting them off but not sure how to say it without you teasing him.

Jeongin caught your bottom lip, pulling away with a shiver creeping down his spine, "B-Baby, m' so in love with you. Swear to god, you're perfect." His eyes were already dazed as they looked you up and down, admiring your delicious figure, "I wanna make you feel good— show me."

You almost moaned at the sound of it. Watching Jeongin slowly lose it, shirt now tugged up enough to see the true volume of his erection. You could tell he was big, and how he had kept this from you was a mystery. You adjusted on his lap, openly sitting on his bulge as if to let him know— tell him without the burden of words that you're his.

"Show you?" You asked against his lips, grazing them softly.

Your boyfriend nodded, your hands reaching under his hoodie to feel the heat of his skin. Your nails lightly scraped over his tense tummy, breath stuttering each time your fingertips swirled over his skin. He groaned at the feeling of your hips upon his cock, feeling as though he'd bust right then.

"Show me how to make you feel good," Jeongin said it so confidently you almost forgot it was your boy. You liked how eager he was to please yet somehow kept that little bit of composure, "That's all I wanna do for you, pretty."

You almost short circuited, retracing your thoughts and trying to figure out what to do or say first, "O-Oh... well, give me your hand first."

Jeongin obeyed, taking his hand and placing it in yours, eyes wide and staring into yours as he awaited further instruction.

"Now—" You took his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, almost letting out a whimper as he ran a finger up your heat. Jeongin nearly gasped as he felt the heat, the stain of wetness from your arousal, he was perplexed yet utterly amazed, "Yes— like that." You grasped his hand tighter, placing it where your clit was, aching and an angry shade of red, "This feels good... rub— rub it, in circles."

"You're so wet— fuck, I can feel it through your shorts," Jeongin did as you told him. Rubbing gently in what he hoped was a good pace. From the look of your dusty eyes he could safely say it was. Your lips parted with soft whines leaving them, thighs trembling on either side of his legs. It was a sight he could get used to, "Does that feel g-good?"

"Mhm— wan' take off my shorts," So you did, stepping off his lap and leaving his hands empty and unoccupied, which he never knew he could miss. You laid at his side now, head upon a pillow, looking ever so angelic as you spread your legs, as if to invite him. Jeongin ogled for a moment, forgetting he was human as his eyes lingered up and down your voluminous curves, landing lastly on your barren cunt, observing with curiosity.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," Jeongin crept forward, connecting your lips with his in a heated, dramatic kiss, "Thank you, thank you—" He didn't know what he was thanking you for; being you? Letting him do this? Giving yourself to him with such need? Jeongin wasn't gonna dwell on it any longer, instead, he let your hand take his and guide him back to your core.

"M-more," You whimpered. From all the teasing you've done to him for the past few months, it was a bit shocking to see you so pliant. Jeongin nodded against your lips, the kiss becoming a mess as you two persisted, "Like this, okay?"

You led Jeongin's hand to your clit, rubbing gently. Then moaned loudly, as if it was the best thing. Jeongin felt his mind being blown at the noises you made, it was so precious to him. He wondered why he'd never done this sooner; now he wasn't sure he could go without them anymore.

"N-now, like this—" You dropped Jeongin’s hand to your throbbing hole, dripping in sheer globs of desire onto the cushion beneath your ass, glistening in lust, "Two fingers... ah—" You showed Jeongin, letting his two gorgeous fingers breach your hole, slowly inching in. Jeongin choked at how you sucked him in, and at the way your head tilted back, those addicting moans you let out too.

Jeongin was on the verge of cumming in his own pants; shamefully yet he wasn't sure he could even stop if he did.

"Yes... ah, you're hands a-are so pretty—" You were a bit of a mess now, you showed him how to pump them into you and then he was off on his own, watching as you fell apart around him and your moans slipped out dangerously loud, "So— good!"

Jeongin couldn't fathom how beautiful you looked. Hair in the shape of a halo around your flushed face. Eyelashes fluttering and lips parted as a spot of drool came dribbling down; without a bit of hesitation, he came forward and kissed it away, dragging his tongue along the trail as well.

You moaned out at the warm feeling of his tongue, barely able to make out his dazed, enamored expression through the thickness of your lashes.

"Wan' taste you, baby, can I?" Jeongin suddenly asked, scissoring into your cunt as his palm slapped against your core. You truly wondered if he was lying about the whole virgin thing— with the way he was using his fingers it was like they were made for this shit.

You nodded at his words, "Please!"

Jeongin didn't need anymore confirmation to bend forward, hips rutting into the pillow below, his own moans vibrating against your clit. His lips wrapped around them, eyes fluttering shut as he made out with your pretty sex.

"G'na— ah, cum!" You shouted as his tongue flicked along your clit, making you see stars as his fingers carried out your orgasm. Hitting your gummy spot with little caution, lips around your cunt. You creamed around his fingers, yet Jeongin didn't stop filling you with his knobby digits.

You pried them away, lost beneath your lashes as you tried to breathe, searching for his gaze.

Jeongin looked at you expectantly like a puppy waiting for praise, lips curled into an almost prideful smile as you whispered into nothing.

"Fuck, Innie, felt s-so good," You brought his face up to yours, post-sex haze making you needy and soft, "Thank you, baby."

Jeongin groaned as your thigh rubbed against his cock, the pain suddenly reminding him he was left unattended. Your eyes fell to the prominent outline, the stain of precum on the fabric, making you suddenly want more.

"Jeongin, baby, put it in," You pleaded, grasping his biceps in your suddenly small hands, shaking figure as you begged, "Please. Wan' make you feel good, too."

Jeongin lost it, nodded through the dizziness at your words, "You're unreal— fuck, baby, gonna put it in, tell me if it hurts—"

You watched him mess with the button of his pants, a little confused as to why it would hurt. Then you met eyes with his cock, throbbing and red, dripping. But most importantly, massive. You audibly gasped with bewildered eyes. It had to be more than ten inches, and it looked painful to hold, hard with intricately drawn veins. You locked eyes with your boyfriend, shock evident on your gorgeous face.

"You're fucking huge, Innie," You almost moaned as the poor boy grew shy, opening your legs and aligning the tip with your ready hole, "M' gonna split in half."

Jeongin would've laughed but he was too immersed in the pleasure, sinking into your dripping cunt inch by inch until there was nowhere left to go. Despite having an inch or two still not submerged, he let his head fall back and moaned, loudly and super cutely.

"Don't say that— m-might cum already," Jeongin propped his arms beside your head, finding your lips and messily making out with you as he tried to not move. It was hard with you clenching and sucking him in. Your hands looping around his neck again, lips wet as saliva pooled down your chins in a puddle.

"S'full," You mumbled, losing track of how his lips collided with yours in needy sweeps. Jeongin moaned at your words, "Holy shit, baby, I gotta move. M' moving, pretty!"

Jeongin was apologetic but his hips moved, skin slapping on skin as his pace stayed relentless and quick, shallow yet letting you feel as much of his cock as you could. Every vein, every cursive line within his pretty fucking cock.

Jeongin bit your bottom lip, hands clenching into the couch material as he fucked into your harder. The lewd noises of your cunt swallowing his length was pornographic and beautiful to him; like music to his ears, a sound he never knew he needed.

"Ohh, Innie, fuck, it's s'big!"

Jeongin dropped his head into your shoulder, your hands going to his back to claw at the porcelain skin. Jeongin choked out a moan, biting your neck as he mumbled out a barely coherent, "M' gonna cum— can I? Inside? P-please?"

You were too overstimulated to say no, you moaned yes and with that Jeongin released into you, suddenly the feeling of being full making you overwhelmed. It felt like you were sinking into the couch, clawing to Jeongin to stay steady as his cum pooled inside of you.

"Shit, shit, m' sorry, pretty," Jeongin spoke after coming down from his high, pulling out and hissing at the feeling, "Are you okay?"

You opened your eyes with a dazed flutter, meeting his worried bronze ones as they scanned your messy red face, "I can't believe you had a dick that good and you've been keeping it from me!"

Jeongin blushed, dropping his head to your shoulder again with a nervous whimper, "You're something else..."

[angllicjk]

𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 (𝐌)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Alt Nextdoor Neighbor!Jungkook X Bartender!(fem)Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.4K

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: While you're too busy putting up with that asshole boyfriend of yours, Jungkook spends his time trying to get you to see that he could be a better man for you. You're all he wants and he knows you want him just as much, you just need a little push. Specifically a night in with him and perhaps spill all he feels to you even if it might lead to you both falling apart.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: pining(jk), friends to lovers!, sum angst, tiny fluff, sorta unrequited feelings but not rlly, oc is emotionally constipated & very conflicted, jk is a desperate feral simp for oc, jk with neck tatts & of course his sleeve tatt😩, jk wearing smudge eyeliner(soooo hot), jk with brow & lip piercing, jealousy, slight possessive jk!, mentions of toxic relationship, smoking pot(jk & oc), infidelity(oc), arguing, sexual tension, heavy petting, heated making out, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, big dick!jk, softdom!jk, sub!oc, rough vaginal fingering, oral(f receiving very briefly), cum eating/tasting, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink/difference, light dirty talk, missionary, biting/marking & light choking.

A/N: Hiii!. I’m back with another fic 🫶🏻 this took kinda long to finish & for what, I was kinda iffy about it but I rlly wanted to post another story again. I rlly hope you enjoy this, pls let me know. I shall post another one soon hopefully. I love youuu allll💗💕🩷🎀

Through the thick haze that lingers over the both of you in his bedroom, Jungkook still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re real and sitting right next to him. A cloudy puff of smoke escapes your red stained lips, licking them right after and when you turn to look at him with a blissful smile. He couldn’t think of a better sight. A better moment than this, because he likes the way you look beside him in his room, on his bed, when you look at him like that. Just you.

Jungkook’s been trying to get you to come over to his place for a while now. Seeing you in the halls in passing or down at the laundromat and sometimes in the elevator isn’t enough for him. Being next door to you simply isn’t enough. The amount of times he’s knocked on your door to borrow some fucking sugar or to ask if you need your sink fixed again. Hell, he’s gone as far as pretending his shower was broken just so he could use yours in the meantime. Anything in the book just to get closer to you really.

Like almost every night when he’s waiting up for you after your shift from the bar a little ways from the complex just so he could walk you home. Asking about your night and keeping you company down the sketchy dark streets because he doesn’t like the thought of you all alone out there.

You always remind him that he doesn’t have to do that but Jungkook insists he must and walks you home every night anyway. He likes to. Especially if it means he gets to spend more time with you while keeping you safe.

“I just needa make sure my pretty neighbor gets inside safely, can’t have anything happen to her.”

An addictive sensual melody of a song plays low from his stereo system, filling the lingering silence between you in Jungkook’s bedroom and the heady bliss you’re starting to feel puts your overworked mind at ease.

You said you wanted to forget about whatever happened in your walls earlier(all he heard was some heated argument between you and your bitch ass boyfriend) and for once not feel a single thing but that of the burning relaxation between your fingers. Which is why you’re currently sitting beside him on his comfy bed smoking some of the pot he deals. And yet, here he is making you feel a million other things instead. Jungkook is not even doing anything but merely existing.

The way he looks so pretty leaning back against his deep burgundy colored wall. It’s cute how long strands of hair nearly cover his dark eye-lined eyes, although you miss the sight of his hot brow piercing. He had you melting on sight when he walked you home not even an hour ago when you first saw him. The fit of a signature leather jacket, an old band tee that fits his slim frame perfectly and baggy denim jeans with a metal square studded belt gleaming around his hips. Veiny wrists clad in thick leather bands, some silver studded and spiked as well. Long slender fingers adorning pretty silver jewelry.

Jungkook always looks so good.

Damn him for being so fucking hot.

“Got anything on your mind?. Wanna share?.” He breaks the silence, staring back at you whilst taking a long drag from the thick blunt held within two digits. His leather jacket had been shrugged off the moment you both entered his room and now you’ve got the pleasure of staring at his beautiful tattooed arm and a few that litter the right side of his neck.

It’s a moment before you answer, eyes trailing up to his pretty irises that stare back at you, glazed over with a look you can’t quite pinpoint this instant, but it makes your insides feel on fire. If he knew what you were currently thinking about, you wonder what he’d say or do. The guy is almost always running through your mind, as much as you don’t want to admit it.

“I don’t think so.”

He hears you utter softly, tearing your gaze away to place your attention upon the many posters he’s got plastered over his wall instead. You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you anymore. Jungkook just loves eye contact.

“Why not?.” He sighs in disbelief, neglecting his half smoked blunt on the ashtray near him on his desk. It’s been silent for a bit between you, only his music makes it less awkward but it’s not uncomfortable. Jungkook had been wanting to say something to keep you interested, to get even closer to you. Although, he’s not sure if you’d wanna come back again after tonight, but he can’t help but think that you look like you belong here right beside him.

A breathy chuckle tumbles out of you along with smoke. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Because it’s simply not something I want you to know.”

Now Jungkook really wants to know what's going on inside that mind of yours. He’s got a few guesses, but he’s not so sure you’d like to hear them.

A sudden thought ponders in his mind and with a quirk of a brow he scoots a bit closer as he then suggests,

“Well, what if I tell you something in return?.”

The idea momentarily intrigues you, lifting your head to meet his excitement filled orbs. He almost looks innocent for a change.

“Mm, like what?.” You ask before inhaling another huff of the now shortened blunt.

Jungkook gets a bit distracted watching you and the way you blow out the smoke from your lips. Why do you make smoking look so hot?.

Another thing he finds himself distracted by is the peek of cleavage he sees by the first few buttons undone of your white blouse mandatory for your bartending gig. His throat constricts at the sight, arousal burning in his gut and Jungkook forces his eyes back up, delaying in his response to you.

“It can be anything.”

“Fine, tell me a secret.” You comply without much thought, not really minding the idea at all. It should be fun and simple, something else to keep the thoughts at bay.

Jungkook likes the sound of that, so he leans close and whispers in your ear. The deepness of his low timbre and lips slightly grazing the shell of your ear, it all sends a good tingle down your spine you try to fight off. You don’t want him to know the effect he has on you.

“I heard you the other night through the wall and I fucked my fist hard imagining it was you instead. Came so damn hard hearing the hot sounds you made.”

The filth he just confessed widens your eyes in slight surprise. Did he just say that?. The fact that Jungkook got off to the sound of you trying to make yourself cum after hours in bed and admitted it was so hot.

The walls are thin and you’ve found his bed is adjacent to yours with the same layout as your own apartment. So it’s no wonder he could hear you. Sometimes you hear him as well.

You very much heard him that night too and his desperate sexy moans through the walls fueled your own drive to your end with your hot neighbor in mind. So much for keeping the thoughts at bay, because now they stray further imagining what he might look like himself laying in bed chasing his own end. Most likely shirtless, boxers pulled halfway down with a tight fist wrapped around his hard cock, head thrown back, sweaty chest heaving, mouth wide open and groa— Okay! That’s enough!. You force the sinful thoughts to go away at once. It’s definitely not something you want to think about right now with him right beside you. It’s not so good for your foggy mind and the ache between your legs.

Jungkook leans back a bit, taking in the expression on your face with a teasing grin. He knows he’s got you all hot and bothered. You can try to hide it all you want, but he knows. Jungkook always knows.

“Your turn.” The whisper he rasps deeply in your ear fuels simmering heat in the pit of your tummy. It’s crazy how just hearing his voice is enough to make you feel all hot.

‘Come on Y/N. Keep it together’.

When you turn to look at him once again with those pretty eyes, all Jungkook wants is to simply tug you to him impossibly closer and kiss the fuck out of you. To taste those sweet lips he’s always dreaming about.

“I like that you walk me home every night, it’s sweet of you.” He barely hears your low voice, but you say it so lovely with a tiny smile peering up at him, giving him a glimpse of your pretty teeth.

How are you so fucking cute right now?. Especially after what he just confessed to you.

“I like you so much.” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to confess, passion dripping off his tongue. It tugs your heartstrings, but you pretend you didn’t hear it.

“That time you took a shower in my bathroom when you forgot a towel and I brought you one. Well, after you left I went to my room and touched myself because I thought you looked so hot half naked and with dripping wet hair.” It almost took a lot for you to admit that, but it just came out. A sheepish smile spreads across your face with slight embarrassment. You bring the blunt up to your lips for another much needed drag.

Since he shared a dirty secret, why not share one too. It’s only fair.

“Fuck, your so hot.” Jungkook groans at the thought, shutting his eyes for a moment as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth imagining you in bed desperately trying to get yourself off to the thought of him.

“I want you to come over more.” He then says, a bit eagerly turning back to you.

“I like the little talks we have and when you're kind enough to ask if I need help with anything.” You add on, gaze softening as you remember those times Jungkook was able to make you forget what a hard night you had with stories of his own that got a few laughs out of you or even asking about the things no one ever takes the time to learn about you, especially when he never does.

It’s what you really appreciate and a part of you hopes that you never lose the safe space that you feel with Jungkook, whenever you’re near him. He’s a comforting warmth, a home you terribly miss sometimes and he makes it all feel even a little better most times.

“You’re such a sweetheart and I hate when that motherfucker comes around when he treats you like shit.”

And suddenly it changes in a millisecond. You still briefly, body growing tense beside him and he notices the change as well when the smile slips off your face, knowing he hit a nerve he shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t have to say that.” Low and soft you utter tinged with sadness and he feels the disappointment in your words. In the way you look at him. Your hurt filled eyes tell him so. Striking a pang in his heart, but he can’t bear this any longer. Everything he feels on the inside. Himself. For you. About you. It’s always you.

“But it’s true. Why do you let it happen when…when you have me.” Jungkook sighs with the utmost pented frustration. He doesn’t get why you let yourself get treated so badly. That the lousy fucker is taking advantage of you and messing with your beautiful head. It’s sickening. His heart hurts knowing it and the fact that he can’t necessarily do anything about it. At least not without hurting you in the process by butting into your toxic relationship. You’d probably stop speaking to him if he tried to as well, something he certainly cannot risk. But here he is doing just that. Jungkook can’t let it happen anymore.

“It’s…it’s just complicated.”

It’s all you could ever say, he’s heard it all before. It’s always so fucking complicated and it seems like it’s never going to get uncomplicated any time soon either. Deep down you know this, but you’re too stubborn to still try to make it work.

“It wouldn’t be with me.” He clasps his hand over yours that’s resting upon your naked thigh, gently squeezing your plush skin in a comforting manner. It startles you, makes you feel those things all over again. Everything he’s saying is getting to your head and taking over your body. Maybe it’s the weed. It’s definitely the weed.

“What are you doing?.” With furrowed brows in confusion, you pull your hand away from under his searing touch and scoot further to create some type of distance. He’s too close for comfort, for the addictive feeling he provides that’s all too consuming.

You’re slipping away from him, putting up those walls he’s been trying to tear down for months now. He won’t let you, not this time.

“I just wanna show you how sweet I could be to you.” Jungkook never tears his gaze away, eyes holding so much emotion that you almost can’t hold it together yourself and it’s enough to crack some of the hard shelled resolve you’ve tried scraping together in a desperate attempt to stay put, never stray.

“You are sweet Jungkook, so sweet I-…I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.” You sighed out almost defeatedly as you slump your head against his wall, staring up at the ceiling.

He’s the sweetest and everything opposite from the man you’ve been seeing. Jungkook cares about you so much, you can tell by the way he’s always looking out for you. The things he says, the things he does for you even when you don’t ask for it. The efforts he makes in getting to know the real you and when he gives you the heart-melting look that makes you want to unleash the deepest parts of you that you never share with anyone else. To let him have his way. Let him have you.

“I want you, you already know this.” Jungkook’s husky whisper brings you back to him and the comforting yet suffocating confines of his bedroom.

He wants to so badly reach out and hold your hand. Have you look at him again and make you hear his heart out till it’s full content, till you know everything he hopes, dreams and desires for.

“You don’t need that stupid pretty boy, I bet he doesn’t know how to take care of you since I keep hearing you night after night.” Jungkook shakes his head, gently leaning closer to have you near him again. Within his four walls, inches, millimeters. It’s never enough for Jungkook and it never will be. If he could sear himself into your skin, meld himself forever to your body, he would if it meant never parting from you. If it meant you’d belong to him and he belonged to you.

Wouldn’t you want that too?.

Your breath hitches at how terribly right he is. It’s always half assed and most of the time you never finish, leaving you high and dry and it hurts whenever he leaves right after, stinging your heart and pride. Leaving you alone in bed to cry, wallowing in self pity.

“Plus, I’m way prettier.”

Of course, he speaks no lies. Jungkook’s the prettiest and handsomest you’ve ever seen. No one could compare nor compete. You’re always staring a little too long at his pretty plush lips and the shiny lip ring pierced into his skin you find so hot, glittering doe eyes, flawless features that always steals the breath from your lungs whenever you see him. He’s like a perfect daydream come to life.

“I just know I could have that pussy soaking for me in seconds.” He’s in your ear again and again his hand gently grips over your thigh, fingers sinking in between the skin where they meet.

The sudden touch has you snapping your head to look back at him, startled and he’s so close. If you lean in just a bit you could kiss him. Jungkook smiles his cute smile down at you as his hand kneads your plush thigh.

“Huh, you just need to hear my voice and have me look at you like this, don’t you?.” He rasps deeply. The sound rich in your ears that sends a pulse and multitude of flutters to your pussy.

He isn’t wrong. Jungkook doesn’t have to do much to get you wet and going. Especially when he lives in your mind most late nights.

He hums and pushes his hand further between your legs and you slightly pull them apart for him, falling into his sweet temptation. You bet his long and slender fingers would feel so good, better than your own on those nights when you’re desperate.

“I bet you’re so wet right now. I could take care of it.”

A soft moan escapes you at the first light stroke of his finger against your covered clit he finds easily.

“There she is, let me in baby, please.” He rubs it over a few more times, nail grazing it gently before his hand fully engulfs your heat, cupping it in his hold. Palm digging against your mound and rubbing it in a slow but hard tandem that pulls a loud moan from your throat, unable to hold it back and you allow your eyes to fall shut, basking in the pleasure he provides. Gently rocking your hips up against the firmness of his palm. He drops his head beside yours, groaning into your ear as he feels wetness seeping through your panties. Cock hardening to life, throbbing painfully and the tightness in his jeans is beginning to feel almost unbearable.

“I know you want me too.” Jungkook urges, breath picking up and suddenly you snap out of his spell, quickly removing his hand from between your legs.

No. It’s too much. You can’t let yourself fall too deep in whatever this is between you. It isn’t fair to Jungkook and yourself, not when he’s still in the picture.

“You’re delusional.” You spat with spite, scooting further away from him once again. Disappointed with every second that you almost let yourself get pulled astray into his tight clutches.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. He grins amusedly and shuffles his way to you on his bed. “Maybe, but you are too if you think things are gonna work out with that little boy.”

“It might.” You retort weakly, although you don’t sound so sure yourself.

He cackles, throwing his head back.

“Oh, sweetheart it wouldn’t and you know it.”

Jungkook is beside you once again and continues on his little spiel.

“I know you like me too. You can’t stay away either. Stop lying to yourself. You want me to keep looking at you, want me to keep coming over and ask for stupid shit cause’ you know I just wanna see you. You want me to keep wanting you, but baby I could only hold out for so long.”

His words rattle you, stir something in you that you try to force down, but perhaps Jungkook is right. You like the guy, absolutely adore him and maybe if you had met him first, in different circumstances. One where you're a better version of yourself, not struggling, not so desperate for a new change in life, things could be different.

“Why do you like me so much?.” A frustrated sigh heaves past your lips, looking back at him with deep perplexity.

Who would like you like this?. Want you this way?.

You know he’s liked you ever since you moved in all those months ago and you’ve always wondered why. What did he see in you?. What made him want you this much?.

“Because I did the moment I saw you. It just happened. I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, always.” Jungkook’s eyes are practically heart shaped, staring back at you with such intensity yet a loving softness that makes your whole world spin out of control.

Smoke wafts between you and the now neglected bud between your fingers continue to burn just like your desire for him.

You don’t know if it would ever die like fiery embers, fade away into nothingness. It possibly couldn’t. He’s always fueling the fire.

“No one’s captured my sole attention so easily like you do. I’m so drawn to you and I can’t help it. I like how sweet you really are. I like watching you get excited over little things because I hardly get to see you that way. Like that time we stopped at the convenience store on the way home and you were so happy they restocked those jelly candies you like so much. It was really cute.”

Your breath hitches and your insides turn to mush.

Fuck, what is he doing?.

Jungkook chuckles, seemingly thinking of something else before he goes on to tell you more.

“You’re cute when you think you’re alone in the laundromat, with your earphones in, singing along to your music and doing little dances. You care, even if you get irritated with me sometimes, you still don’t hesitate to help and I know you’re smart. I’ve sneaked a peek of your architecture designs and ideas before in your room when you weren’t looking.”

He sees the second your eyes widen with shock and slight irritation but before you could say anything on the matter, he beats you to it.

“They’re great, you don’t need to give up something you love just for someone who doesn’t deserve you. You don’t need him at all to make it. You could do that on your own.” Jungkook speaks everything he means and the way he’s looking at you right now is scary because deep down you know it’s true. You tear your glossed over eyes from his ardent ones and shuffle off of his bed completely.

“You know, I came here to forget things but you’re only making it harder by bringing this shit up Jungkook. I don’t need this right now. I’d appreciate it if you could just mind your own fucking business for once.” You’re snagging your purse from his bedside table and yanking it onto your shoulder, putting out the neglected blunt on the ashtray near his soft glowing lamp light.

His brows pin together in deep confusion and hurries off his bed as well with abruptness, trailing after you.

“You know I can’t when it comes to you.”

Standing beside you in a second, eyes moving frantically over the side of your face. He places a hand upon your shoulder, shaking you gently for a second more of your attention.

What had he done?. He just told you half of what he loves and admires of you and then you're running away the next second, looking mad at him as if he’s the one who's to blame for the hell in your life.

“Would you please look at me?.”

You don’t give him that, too busy trying to get your heels back on as you hold onto his wall for support. You’re leaving and Jungkook’s panicking. He’s in front of you now, invading your space as you shift to get the other heel on.

“If you want to forget, I could make you.”

“I know what you really need, just say the words and I will.” He urges on, watching you intensely for your next move and impatiently of the words you speak.

“I need to go.” Is all you mutter, moving past him to his door as you reach for the old brass knob.

Jungkook’s fingers clutch tightly onto the band of your black skirt from behind as a last resort to stop you from twisting it open and leaving.

“Fine. If you leave, then this is the last time I’ll ever bother you. You want me to stay out of your business, I will. I’ll leave you alone for good.” You hear him huff in a threatening snarl, yanking his touch off of you as he backs away to give you the space you clearly wanted.

“I don’t want to keep waiting around for something that’s not gonna happen. I need to move on too.” He then spits with sharp bitterness.

You turn around to meet his frustrated dark orbs. Brows pinched in a mean furrow as he watches you.

It should be enough for you to walk away, to walk out of his room and never look back. He’s making it easy for you but so hard to do so at the same time. If this means not seeing him everyday, his pretty smiles, the talks you two share on the way home together and basking in the comfort he brings you by simply being within his presence. Abandoning the home he’s made in your heart. Fuck!. You can’t do it. You shouldn’t have gotten too close. It was going to hurt either way, you or him and all you’ve been doing is hurting him and ultimately yourself in the process.

“You’re always in the way. Why do you always make everything so goddamn hard, Jungkook.” You huff so frustratedly, shoulders dropping along with your resolve because you can’t do this anymore.

He shakes his head vehemently, jaw tensing as he takes a step closer. His heavy gaze pierces your being. It makes you feel small and pathetic. You are in this moment and so weak for Jungkook and all of what he makes you feel.

“No, you do that on your own. You want to stay miserable with that fucker be my guest, but you know I’d take care of you way better than him. I may not be rich like he is, but I can still give you everything you need.”

Jungkook states, now standing directly in front of you. He never loses the mean furrow or the frustration and burning anger in his eyes you witness. Baring them to you and it takes all of you to keep yourself rooted in place, to not step up to him, lean in and put out the fire yourself.

“I’ll always take care of you. Always make you feel wanted and special because you are to me. I love you but you make it so hard for me when you act like the dumb and weak little thing he wants you to be for him.” The nasty edge of the last sentence he grits through clenched teeth strikes a nerve within you. You know how awfully right he is. It’s draining and a pain how right Jungkook always is but never as much as it is being with him. Despite his crude words, his touch upon your cheek as he curls a strand of hair behind your ear is gentle and soft just how he is with you.

The way you fell for him.

“I want you to be my proud shining gem, my sweet girl.” Harsh gaze softening, cradling your cheek like you’re a precious porcelain doll. He whispers near your lips, pure adoration melting into you and your lustrous eyes warm with a passion that his heart yearns for. Eyes falling to your lips he’s aching on the inside to get a taste of, he can’t help it.

This time you can’t turn away. Can’t stop the feeling he's bloomed inside you ever since you met him in the hallway the first week you moved in all those months ago. This time you can’t fight it and push everything you feel for Jungkook in the deep crevices within that you never look for.

You let yourself feel it all. Your frustration, your weak temptations for the man standing before you that looks at you like you are the whole universe. Deep yearning and ache whenever he’s near. His anger, his frustration, his comfort and all his love. It’s all you truly want.

It’s what drives you to close the hair's breadth distance in between and meld your lips against his soft ones. You feel him go rigid and still for the briefest moment in slight surprise. It’s like electric currents shocking through him at once and he’s tangling his hand in your hair and the other at the side of your neck, kissing you back with just as much fervor. Both of your tongues wrestle together, ravishing each other like you’ve been starved all your life. Teeth clashing, mixed saliva staining the corners of your mouth and chin as you taste one another.

Jungkook pulls you by the waist and yanks you back with him towards the edge of his bed, manhandling you around as he pulls apart from your lips to push you back on his bed. He’s on you in a second and devouring your lips once again. Groaning into your mouth at the taste of you, so sweet and so addictive. Soft moans of yours into his mouth he swallows up and they get louder and desperate at the way he grinds his hips against your covered mound.

“Want you so fucking bad. Always.” Jungkook breathily moans against your cheek, lips traveling past your jaw and upon your neck. Suckling and mouthing hot wet kisses against your skin in his wake to explore your body.

You moan in response, tangling your fingers into his dark hair and tugging at the strands. His touch, kisses, everything feels so amazing. You can’t believe you kept yourself from this. From him for so long.

He paints his own marks into the side of your neck whilst his hands bunch your skirt up to expose your covered core in sexy black lace panties. He pulls his lips apart and lifts his head to peer down at you.

“Can I make you feel good?.” Jungkook groaned softly against you, smooth palm rubbing over your covered cunt and when his fingers brush over your clit through the fabric, how could you deny him when the simple touch of him makes you feel so damn good. Body hot, tingling and aching desperately for him.

“Yes, please! Please!.” You softly moan, nodding your head rapidly up at him.

Jungkook chuckles lightheartedly, swiping strands of hair back from your flushed face.

“Heh, aw, you sound so pretty when you beg like that.”

Alas he skims his hand beneath the hem of your panties and plays with your slick folds, spreading them apart with his fingers. They drift lower and feel just how wet you already are and Jungkook groans in delight.

“Fuck, so wet baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll show you how good I can, better than he ever could.”

Your body squirms underneath his big frame towering above you, whines and moans escaping you as he cops his feel of your hot pulsating pussy and a startled gasp tumbles past your lips when Jungkook suddenly tears your panties down your thighs quite aggressively till they fall off your feet.

He pushes your thighs apart and you spread them wider for him as he lowers himself down your body to fully engulf the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt to his hungry eyes. Glossy with your slick, puffed and throbbing just for him. A sharp intake of breath is heard as he stares intensely at your gaping hole. His cock grows harder at the sight and Jungkook has to hold himself back, fingers wrinkling the sheets hard in his hold at the side of your head.

God, you drive him to insanity and he knows he’s not gonna last long once he finally gets to be inside you.

“Jungkook, please don’t just stare.” His eyes snap up towards your face and sees the complete lust swirling in your irises. The furrow between your brows, begging him to do something just like your cunt throbs for the same thing.

“I need you.”

He moans throatily at your desperate plea and it has him springing into action. Leaning back up to smash his lips against yours with his fingers back between your wet folds. He swallows up your whines when his fingers rub your needy clit, gathering the juices you leak to spread all over your bud he plays with. Back arching and mouth falling open against his as he sinks two digits inside immediately with how drenched you absolutely are, coating them fully.

“Oh!. Oh my- fuck!-“ A near-sob racks through you, head falling back against the sheets.

“Feels good huh. You're squeezing my fingers so tight, baby.” Jungkook purrs in your ear, plunging his digits in and out of your plush walls in a maddening pace that already has you a quivering mess beneath him.

Obscene squelches of his fingers fucking your soaked pussy fill the otherwise silence of his bedroom. You don’t even remember when you last heard the remnants of the playlist he had playing long moments ago. All your clouded mind and body knows is the hot pleasure coursing through your veins, just how good Jungkook is making you feel.

Your breathy and whiny moans raise octaves higher the deeper he reaches inside your cunt each time he pounds his digits back in, finding that special spongy spot that gushes more of your essence, dripping down his hand and wetting his sheets below. He doesn’t care one bit of the mess you’re making, hell no, it only fuels his carnal desire to see you make an even bigger mess, to see just how fucking wetter he can get your pretty pussy for him.

“Right there huh?. Mmm, fuck you’re so hot. So perfect for me, sweetheart.” He’s so turned on, body buzzing with hot arousal watching you squirm and the way your wet pussy tightens around his fingers. No thoughts but your tight plush cunt, the hot sounds you make that sends his cock throbbing in his jeans begging for a feel of you. Filled with the sudden urge as he licks the side of your face up, tongue flattening and leaving a sheen of his saliva before biting the apple of your cheek hard with a deep groan rumbling against your skin.

The action you find oddly hot yourself and he knows it too by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers hard. He catches your pretty face that contorts deeply in pleasure, watching him with fucked out eyes, mouth wide open of your cute moans falling one after the other at the fast pace he fucks your cunt.

Fuck, how are you so fucking beautiful like this?. How do you always manage to outdo yourself and make him fall harder for you 100x more than he already has.

Needing to taste you all over again, he drives his tongue down your open mouth, sucking and wrestling with yours in a frantic heated rhythm. Jungkook practically devours you, never wanting to part and both your saliva mixed makes the kiss more messy and nasty than it already is.

He never ceases the harsh pace his fingers pound into you nor does he give you a moment to breath kissing you like he’ll never get to again.

“Mmm!- Ju- ngh!.” You struggle against him to get some air in, voice muffled against his mouth.

How he ravishes you and fucks your leaking pussy, it’s almost too much and the coil in your stomach further expands, almost ready to explode any moment at how heavenly you feel.

Jungkook gets one last long kiss of your lips then pulls apart finally and you get blessed with the sight of his rosy, plump lips with a sheen of your mixed salivas coating them. There’s small streaks of your smeared red lipstick at the corner of his lips and down his chin as well. He looks so pretty and the sight of him sends your cunt pulsating a multitude of currents around his fingers.

A whine of protest leaves you the second he backs away a bit, hands pushing your thighs higher against your chest and he lifts a brow at you to comply.

“Be a good girl and hold them up for me.” In a heartbeat, you hook your hands beneath the fold of your knees and keep them up like he wants.

“Good girl.” Jungkook hums with satisfaction and leans back over you, dropping his head against your forehead, dark lidded eyes boring into yours.

“Baby, I want you to watch me make this perfect pussy squirt for me.”

You moan in response and when he shifts his head to look down, so do you and your breath gets caught in your throat.

Watching him continue to batter your pussy with his two long pretty fingers plunging in and out at a menacingly fast and hard pace. With his tattooed hand that is clad in his leather and silver bracelets, a thick black one with spikes. Eyes skimming over the veins that pop out prominently from the strain he’s putting on his tattooed arm to make you cum. Fingers reaching so deep in your pussy you nearly can’t take it anymore as he pounds and twists his digits in. It’s all enough to have you quake with immense pleasure, eyes wanting to fall shut but you fight to keep them open, orbs crossing over and the band in your tummy snaps at once as you cum hard, jets of your essence shooting out your gaping hole the moment Jungkook pulls his fingers out to see your pussy squirt like he so badly wanted to.

It splashes over your whole mound, wetting your thighs with droplets and soaking his sheets below your bottom as well as sprinkling some spots on his dark denim jeans.

“Holy shit!. That’s so fucking hot. You’re so- Mmm!- So hot, baby.” Jungkook growls almost animalistically, cupping both your cheeks and giving you a searing kiss, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting into the plump flesh before letting it go.

He nearly came in his pants at the sight of your pussy squirting and the obscene view of it soaking wet, still pulsating from the intense pleasure he gave you.

“One more time before I fuck your pussy, wanna see it again.” Jungkook pleads while pecking your lips with chaste kisses over and over.

“No!. I don’t thin-“ You immediately shake your head whining at the thought, you're so sensitive and you’re not so sure you can do it again. It was a whole new intense feeling for you.

Jungkook seems to think otherwise, nodding his head down at you.

“Yes, baby. Yes you can. I’ll fuckin’ make you do it again for me.”

With that, he’s shoving the same two digits back into your sloppy cunt, sinking in knuckle deep and fucking his fingers in your pussy twice as fast and hard. So determined to make you explode like a waterfall once more.

Your moans become uncontrollable, high in pitch as you throw your head back. Body buzzing with hot searing pleasure, hips and legs shaking violently as you lay there and take it. His fingers reach so deep, jackhammering into your g spot over and over in a frenzy.

Jungkook sucks in a deep breath, moaning along with you. So addicted to watching the sight of your beautiful tear stained face cry out in ecstasy then down below where he fucks your soaked pussy, fingers drenched in your sweet juices. Damn, he doesn’t know which sight to focus on more.

You’re quaking with intense pleasure, so loud and crying out for him. He feels a hand of yours clinging onto the front of his shirt and tugs, needing something to help you grasp reality but you’re too far gone. Too drunk off of the way he’s making you feel with his fingers alone.

“Shit!. You’re gonna cum. Gonna fuckin’ squirt for me. Can feel it sweetheart. Squeezing me so damn tight.” Your walls grip his digits so tight he almost can’t pull out all the way, so he keeps abusing them deeper against that sweet spot of yours.

“I- fuckkk!. Jungkook!. I can’t- Nghh!. Oh!.” You sob aloud, almost pathetically as your body shakes violently underneath him. You’re so close, he can feel it and Jungkook is just as desperate as you are to have you reach euphoria.

“Yes you can. C’mon baby, let go for me. Fuckin’ give it to me please!.” Jungkook coos down at you with low growls and pleas of his own. It’s all it takes to have you reach your end. “Hah!. Fuck fuck fuckkkk.” Convulsing, eyes blown in ecstasy staring back at him as you cum so hard around his digits. Splashing more of your essence all over his hand and pussy absolutely drenched with your wetness.

Jungkook stares mesmerized at the mess he’s made of you and he can’t help but to play with you a bit more. Splaying his fingers flat over your folds, further spreading your wetness all over. You’re so soaked, swollen red and still so sensitive. You push his hand away with a helpless yelp of protest.

He surprises you as he lifts his hand and licks your slick off of his fingers, sticking the same ones he fucked you with in his mouth. Sucking on them and moaning in delight at your taste as he does so. A breath of yours hitches, feeling hot all over once again at the lewd sight of him enjoying the taste of you off his fingers.

“Mmm, so fuckin’ good. Love your taste…need more.”

Before you know it Jungkook lowers himself between your spread legs, face diving first into your pussy. A sharp gasp escapes you fleetingly, chest heaving and you watch from above as he laps at your folds. Drunken orbs staring up at you before they fall shut with brows furrowed deeply in pleasure like he’s the one getting eaten out.

“S-stop!. Pleasseee!.” You nearly scream as he tongue fucks your hole, thighs clamping tight around his head as you try to wiggle feel, but Jungkook doesn’t care and wraps his arms around your thighs to stop you from thrashing in his hold.

“Mmngh…just a taste, baby.” The vibrations of his growl against your pussy sends a rack of shivers through you and you whine helplessly, trying to pull him off by the grip of his hair.

“Hah!. Uh- that’s enough!.” You yank harder and this time he relents, mouth pulling off of your slick pearl with a wet suck.

The taste of you lingers on his tongue and he’s become so addicted to it. He didn’t want to stop and have you keep cumming on his face, in his mouth, on his tongue and drink all you have to offer up like the best thing in the world. Jungkook rests his forehead against your sweaty one, heavy breaths mixing with your pants and fanning over your cheeks. Carnal passion burning in his pretty smudge eyeliner orbs. He’s so fucking hot and your pussy clenches hard staring up at him. He pecks your lips once and twice more, missing them on him.

“Next time, I’ll make you cum on my tongue. Eat this sweet pussy for hours till you beg me to fuckin stop and trust me, I won’t want to.” Jungkook promises, backing away to finally unbuckle his studded belt, watching you as he does so and your pretty pussy that still throbs for him.

His words catch you off guard for a moment and excitement courses within you at the thought of doing this again. Smile growing wide as you watch him get his pants off while you lift your own top overhead, fingers undoing your bra and tossing it aside.

He stills for a moment, sucks in a breath at the sight of you, plump breasts, all naked, and exposed lying there just for him.

“Fuck, look at you. So beautiful.” Jungkook whispers more to himself as he lifts his own t-shirt overhead and you marvel at the beauty he is. He’s well defined, built of scrumptious muscles, prominent veins you have a certain attraction for with a snatched waist you're almost jealous of and deep v-lines leading to his clean shaven dick that stands tall and proud. Your eyes immediately zero in on it. He’s painfully hard, big and girthy, mushroom tip an angry red with beads of precum leaking down his shaft. It twitches a few times and he can’t help but to wrap his hand around himself, squeezing his base and lightly jacking himself off for a bit.

His dick is so pretty just like him. Every inch of his body is absolutely beautiful.

It’s so hot seeing him touch himself and watching you with heavy lust filled eyes as he does so. It has you slithering a hand past your naval and parting your folds, slipping your fingers inside. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling and it seems to have snapped something in Jungkook because suddenly he’s yanking your hand out of your pussy and pulling it up to his lips. Sucking on your digits for another taste of you. Throwing your hand back down and leaning over your smaller frame as he grabs you by the throat with slight pressure.

You're a bit startled but so excited and utterly turned on by him and the slight aggression he shows towards you, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer. He grabs himself by the base and lines his cock with your leaking hole, resting his mushroom tip against it just barely pushing in.

“Do you still want this with me?. Tell me.” He adds more pressure upon your throat, lightening his grip a moment after to have you answer him properly.

Though you nod your head frantically at his words along with desperate pleas falling rapidly from your lips.

“Yes. I want you so bad, Jungkook. Only you.”

“Fuck!.” He hisses, pushing the entirety of his hard length inside your pussy to the hilt in one go with no resistance due to how wet you still are. Body going still and muttering curses against your cheek, breath hitching at how heavenly you feel around his cock. So fucking wet, plush walls chocking him tight and the flutters of your pussy inside he can feel has him on edge already, eyes nearly rolling because fuck, do you feel so goddamn good.

“Fucking tight. God, feel so perfect baby.” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting more marks into your skin since the ones from before are starting to fade. You’re his now and if you don’t know it already he’ll make you.

“Mm!. Please fuck me Jungkook.” You moan wantonly, bucking your hips up for friction. His cock fills you up so good you can hardly think straight, being stretched out by him.

“Shh, baby. I’ll make you feel so good. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” He lifts his head up, staring directly into your eyes and tightening his hold around your throat again as he drags his big cock out till the fat tip, slamming back into you hard. Repeating the motion over and over at a maddening pace.

Both your groans and moans fill his bedroom mixed with skin slapping and the obscene sound of his cock plunging deep into your soaking pussy with wet squelches.

“Harder!. Hngh. Please!.” You grab at his shoulder and biceps, nearly sobbing when he gives you just what you want. Pounding your pussy deeper and rough with hard thrusts, heavy balls smacking against your ass. Both your legs are tossed over his shoulders and he’s got your thighs pressed against your chest with his body nearly crushing you. He loves the way you look beneath him, so small and cute.Tattooed hand still around your throat choking you with enough pressure to send you reeling.

“So fuckin’ pretty. Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He groans roughly against your lips, slipping his tongue out and into your mouth. Making out with you in a sloppy and heated manner.

“Nngh…feel so- Ahh!. So- so good!.” His cock fucks into you so deep, hitting your sweet spot directly each time. Legs shaking, body quaking and face contorted in immense pleasure, tears streak your pink cheeks as you whine and sob like a desperate little thing begging to cum undone.

“Know it does, baby. Pussy squeezing me so good. Gonna fuckin’ cum soon.” His words are broken heaves, brows pinched and mouth open of moans that have you clenching harder on his cock, making it difficult pulling halfway out with each drag. He's definitely not gonna last long like he initially thought.

Your soaked pussy hugs him snuggly and the lewd sight of it swallowing his big cock, creamy white ring surrounding his base and balls with both your essence mixed. He throbs inside of you, nearing his own release.

“Gonna let me cum inside?, sweetheart.” Jungkook grunts hotly above you, hips snapping harshly into yours.

“Mhmm!. Please!. Want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your high pitched squeals and pleas are like music to his ears. Each sound drives him closer to his sweet end.

“Fuck, keep begging me like that and I’ll bust inside this pretty cunt.” He gruffs, stomach caving in with each clench of your pussy as you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“Ohh!. Please!. Want you to fill me up. Make a mess in my pussy, please!.” You babble out, moaning aloud as you do so and cling onto him tighter. Your tits bounce so hypnotizingly with every pound you take and Jungkook removes his hand from your neck to fondle each one, pulling and twisting your puffy nubs that makes you an even whiner mess.

Jungkook loves this so much, and thinks he could never get used to this because he’s always going to want to see you this way. Over and over now that he’s got a taste and feel of you.

“Did you ever let him?.” He doesn’t know what propels him to ask. Voice an octave deeper in a husk and almost stern. Maybe it’s the way you squeeze around him to Heaven and back, or the thought that he’s seen you this way before.

Did that asshole ever have you like this?. Have you a crying and moaning mess?. Creaming his cock and looking like the perfect sin while doing so. Looking beautiful and so drunk off his dick fucking you so good. He possibly couldn’t right?.

With rapid shakes of your head at his words, you moan your truths to him. So fucked out and desperate to even think straight.

“Not w-without a condom…no one’s ever-“

His steady rhythm falters and he presses his weight into you, holding you tight against his embrace as his arms wrap under you. Head against yours and staring down into your pretty drunken stare.

“Shit!. Hngh. Gonna f-fuckkk…claim this pussy. You're mine, baby.”

You keep your gaze focused on him but your eyes roll back once you feel his hand slip down in between and rub your clit with his calloused fingers in rapid figures of eight.

“Cum with me baby, please.” Jungkook pleads hoarsely, hot breath panting against your face.

“C’mon, milk my fuckin’ cock. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

His cock pounds into you so deliciously with his fingers on your clit and the way he stares down at you, cooing filthy words, looking so hot as he does so. It's all overwhelming and what snaps the coil in your tummy. You clench so hard around him as you cum, soaking his cock with your essence. Jungkook follows in close pursuit, painting your walls with spurts of his white hot release, cock pressed so deep and hips stuttering against you.

“Fucckkk!. Shit!. Hah…Nghh.” His body falls against yours, chest heaving with unsteady breaths as he tries to calm his racing heart.

You’re no better, panting and staring up at the ceiling basking in the afterglow of the amazing pleasure and orgasm he gave you, his cum seeping out of you.

Jungkook lifts his head up to meet your gaze just as you look down and he shuffles closer in dire need to kiss you but a wince tumbles out of you suddenly that he pauses abruptly midway.

“It hurts.” You say with a soft groan, wiggling your back, indicating the spiked band cuffing his wrist was poking against your skin in an uncomfortable way.

You hadn’t noticed it until now, too lost in pleasure during sex to pay any mind to it before.

“Oh fuck!- I’m sorry.” Jungkook is quick to apologize, leaning up from your body to remove his arms. He rips the band off his wrist at once, pouting at the obvious indents he also notices he left above your chest where he had grabbed you by the throat during sex.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You reassure him with a small smile, hand clasped over his own that softly rests against your stomach.

It’s grown silent but not uncomfortable and now that you’re both not clouded with lust or driven by overwhelming emotions, Jungkook wants to tell you that this meant something to him. That everything he does for you will always mean something deeper to him. He doesn’t know if you’ve gotten it through your head yet just how much you really mean to him. How much he’s loved you all this time when you were too busy with that fool, stuck in your own four walls and in your own world most of the time.

You never really let him in, but he wants to know more of your world. Explore it with you and expand it with him.

Would it be something that you would want?. Or would you go back to your rich boyfriend who treats you like crap each time you two get together.

With a deep breath, Jungkook gathers himself before he could tell you all of this and he clears his throat, breaking the silence at once.

“Listen, I wanted to-“

A blaring ringtone rudely interrupts Jungkook and you both stare back at each other, brows furrowed in confusion. You lean up a bit and he backs up to give you space as you reach for your discarded purse on his floor. Bringing it back with you on his bed, you grab for the device inside and see the name lit up across the screen.

It’s him.

You hesitate and don’t answer it, peering up at Jungkook who watches you intensely. He has that look on his face and glazed over eyes silently pleading with you.

He quickly snatches the phone from you so suddenly, peeking at the screen before turning it off completely. Jungkook’s pushing you back down into his bed, hovering over you.

“Don’t go back to him. Stay.” He pleads, desperately so.

Please choose me.

You know what he’s really asking of you, you see it in his eyes and your heart sinks when you realize what he’s possibly thinking right now.

Reaching up, you cradle his cheek and bring his face down to you, catching his lips with yours in a deep kiss. Pulling back, you promise him with your whole heart, every fiber inside you burning to be with him.

He’s the only one who's ever truly made you feel wanted, loved and saw you for who you are. Jungkook never once tried to control you, take over your life, isolate you, tell you pretty lies, tear you down only to bring you back up and do it all over again because he liked seeing you cry. Never threatened to hurt you if you didn’t comply with whatever he wanted and he sure as hell never came to you smelling like another woman's intoxicating perfume.

He wasn’t like him and you were so done being with someone who doesn’t treat you like you deserve. For once, you choose happiness and your happiness belongs with Jungkook and the life you could finally start living for yourself.

“I won’t go anywhere, Jungkook. I want to stay with you.”

Jungkook knows what you mean when you say those words, he can feel it. He can see it reflecting back at him and his heart has never felt so good before because for once, his happiness chose him back and he’d never trade it for anything in this world.

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this!. Tysm for reading 🫶🏻 pls let me know yours thoughts & feelings 🎀

[aajjks]

Baby O Baby (m)

synopsis. Is it really a little happy accident?

warnings. ëxplïcït sèx, ünprôtèctèd sèx, bábytráppïng, cúmmïng insïde, fèm!rèàder, rèplácïng bïrth côntrôl w/ô cônsènt, cóarcátïôn, 18+ smút, kïssïng, prôfánïty, ábôrtíön, mânïpülátïôn.

note. tc jk in a modern universe HAHAHA. shouto’s ver on my anime blog, check it out. please talk to this new jk and SHARE FEEDBACK.

smut below MDNI.

No no no no.

You hadn’t realised that a tear escaped your eye, your blurry gaze was focused on your shaky hand. The white blue stick in your hand trembled. “N-No..” you could barely whisper. Your legs felt wobbly all of a sudden, the two bright red straight lines was all you could focus on.

You were pregnant.

You couldn’t believe this, horror filled your eyes as you kept staring, the longer you stared, the more suffocated you were beginning to feel. The large grey bathroom felt like a small cave, your mouth trembled as you inhaled a shaky breath in, “fuck fuck fuck!!” You cried, finally letting it out, the bile that rose up to your throat almost made you want to throw up again.

How could you not have known?

A broken cry left your mouth as you fell down to your knees, it all came rushing back to you. You tried to be careful, you had warned Jungkook, your boyfriend.

P-Please Koo… n-not inside…” you moaned out his name as the man panted breathlessly in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, the seductive feeling of his lips made you tingle. his face was nuzzled in your neck as he only thrusted harder. You heard him grunt deeply, the feeling only made your eyes almost roll back to your head as you tried your best to hold back another moan that threatened to spill from your swollen lips.

Jungkook ignored you. He was so busy, buried deep inside you as he desperately tried to chase his high, his fingers gripped onto your naked shoulders as he mewled weakly in your neck.

“Fuck baby… you feel so fuckin good, could stay buried deep inside you forever.. fuck…” his voice was rough and deep, there was a hint of desperation in his tone, the way he hit all of your weak spots made you see black dots.

He felt so good.

“Love you so fucking much, baby.. love you too much…” he pressed a kiss on your neck as you felt him loosing himself inside you.

“F-Fuck Jungkook- n-not inside p-please-ah fuck..” a sharp thrust interrupted you as you felt his hip bucking up. “C-Can’t help it baby… you feel like heaven all clenched up around me… please ‘dont wanna pull out… please Y/N… let me have completely please..”

He rocked his hips into you, the force almost making you bounce up, he was strong, undeniably so, but the way he made those shameful lewd sounds made you think otherwise. He pulled your body closer, his hair was sweaty, he had been at it for hours, making you feel exhausted almost, after almost milking you out multiple times, you felt tired.

But he was making you feel so fucking good, it was almost impossible for you to stop him.

“M’gonna fill you full of me… “‘youre mine aren’t you?” His next thrust inside your core made your toes curl, a deep grunt erupted from his throat. Your core felt like it was actually on fire, the feeling of him inside you was almost addictive,

He fit so perfectly inside you.

He rocked his hips into yours and a broken moan left you at the lewd contact of his skin into yours. Your legs unknowingly wrapped around his waist, his hands only caged you into him, locking you into place. Not giving you a moment to resist him.

Your nails dig deeper into his buffed back, his teeth bit down into your shoulders. “F-Fuck that felt so good baby please don’t stop!” He begged.

A loud whine left his lips as he began to pump his hips into yours, his rhythm was fast and brutal, you whined, your consciousness immediately shut down as he sank himself deeper inside you, a pathetic whine escaped your lips as you felt something tightening up.

“fuck baby ‘m gonna go insane if i don’t cum, gonna fuck you full of me…” that was all you heard him say as he came inside you, and the next thing you knew,

You were full of him, as he swallowed your moans by kissing you passionately on the lips.

And you were too late to realise.

Until now.

A knock interrupted your flashback as you heard a familiar voice and your heart skipped a beat, “Y-Y/N can I come in? Are you okay? Why are you crying? Please tell me what’s wrong? Sweetheart?” It was Jungkook, “Y/N you’ve been in the bathroom for so long now, You feelin’ okay, baby?” He continued, his tone was so gentle that it should’ve relaxed you,

But except it didn't. “I told you that we should go see a doctor! Y/N you haven’t been feeling well for a month! Please let’s just go!” You heard him plea to you, he beat his fist against the door again.

Until you were forced to open the door and come out.

Your head hurt, stress was building up inside you, Jungkook’s heart dropped in his chest as he saw your face, filled with hot tears. “B-Baby?” He stuttered as he pulled you into a tight hug, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He kissed the crown of your head as he caressed your head, in an attempt to calm your shaking body down.

“K-Koo…” you cried on your boyfriend's warmth, his big muscles flexed as he tightened his hold on you.

You were both too young to have a baby… that was all you could think of. “Yes, baby tell me, what’s wrong?” He whispered carefully, as he pressed small pecks on your hair. His scent calms you down but only for a bit as reality hits you once again.

“Y/N baby?” Jungkook deep voice called out for you, you were only 23 and he was 26…

“Jungkook I’m p-pregnant!” You choked out, tears still fresh, falling from your red eyes. As you remove yourself from his grip, you fall down to your knees, your hands cover your face, you start sobbing again.

Would jungkook leave you now?

You were busy crying when you didn’t notice a big smile taking over his face, but only for a moment as he quickly concealed it and got on his knees, on your level. “W-What?” He stuttered.

He was playing dumb with you.

Were you really telling the truth? Had Jungkook really succeeded?

His hands fell on your back as he tried to pick you up. “Baby please answer me? Are you sure?” He looked at you, a hint of hope in his eyes.

You always adored children, you would love yours too, he was sure, almost as much as loved you.

“Yes jungkook! I-I took seven tests!” You sobbed. “We’re n-not ready! Please.”

Jungkook couldn’t slip up, it was hard for him to mask his happiness, but he managed to sound shocked and confused.

He almost tsked. He was more than ready. And he knew that deep down, you were too, you were just shocked, that’s it, right?

“Jungkook! H-How is this even possible?!? I was on birth control?! I didn’t t-think much about missing my period last month, a-and I thought that the morning sickness was because of the stress of my job…” you hiccuped, Jungkook’s heart broke seeing you like that.

But in reality, this was all his plan. He wanted to get you pregnant for as long as he could remember. The first time he ever saw you, he fell head over heels for you, fast and hard.

You were beautiful, ethereal and perfect, you were a goddess that anyone would kill to have.

And that’s exactly what he did. But still, that was not enough to secure you from slipping up from him.

He couldn’t bring himself to risk losing you.

So that’s why he replaced your birth control pills with fake ones. Of course you didn’t know that.

He just couldn’t believe that he was going to be a dad and you were going to be a mommy.

If Jungkook was being honest, he’d always wanted to make you a mommy.

Oh, you would be such a great mommy… jungkook had been fantasising about this moment for so long, your belly swollen ever so beautifully with his child in your pretty womb…

Jungkook exhaled a shaky breath out as the images flashed before his eyes.

His dream finally came true.

“I-I don’t know what I’m gonna do, koo! What are w-we gonna do! We’re too young for a baby right now!” You panicked.

“I-I’m probably gonna have an abo-NO!” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open at your words, his words boomed across the large walls of his room. “I-I mean, baby relax… please think with a cool mind..” he picked your body up. You stared at him with shocked eyes.

His body felt giddy, he was so happy.

“We’re gonna figure this out together okay? Together…” he kissed your head again, as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “Don’t you worry… we’re gonna be in this… together.” He cooed.

“Baby this is our happy little accident,” he cooed again. Kissing your lips chastely and not giving you a chance to argue.

Was it really though?

The answer was simple, No.

[babyleostuff]

when you call them your husband | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

goes through five stages of a mental breakdown, because what did you just call him??? if you ever called him your husband in front of people, cheol would turn into a stuttering mess with cheeks as red as a tomato. if you did it when you were by yourselves he’d start whining like a bitch, getting shy as hell, because why are you messing with his heart like that? on rare days, though, he’d embrace the husband figure and start calling you “wife” and make you shy

❥ jeonghan 

so smug - no one would be able to wipe that studpid ass smirk off of his face. it does mess with him a bit, though, because come on - calling him your husband??? but he’d try his best to act unaffected, because it’s jeonghan, and he needs to be cool :))) (i’m going to repeat this so many times throughout this headcanon, but all of them would start to freak out a bit thinking about a day when this won’t be a joke anymore, hannie included)

❥ joshua 

is he really surprised when you call him your husband? not really. he knows he’s a husband material, and you often make jokes about him being your husband anyways. that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaking about it on the inside, though, because no matter how many times you call him that as a silly little joke, it still makes him so incredibly happy that one day, he’ll really be your husband, and you won’t be calling him that as a joke anymore

❥ jun 

one of the “turns into a shy, blushy, and a stuttering mess” squad. he’d malfunction at first, point at himself, and melt into a puddle of fluff, and love. one - how dare you call him your literal husband as a joke??? second - give him all the kisses, and hugs, because his first instincts is to run away, and break out in tears from all the love. he doesn’t really know what to do with himself after you say that word, but you can be sure it’ll be in his head for the rest of the day 

❥ hoshi 

soonyoung would be confused for a second, because “wait, are you talking about me?” and when he’d finally understand that, yes - you were talking about him (because who else would you be talking about), he’d get so smiley and giggly and shy, and just turn into the cutest bean. he’d immediately cling to you, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you in a warm hug, giggling like a maniac

❥ wonwoo 

cue shy wonwoo with his lil cat smile. he can’t help the butterflies fluttering in his tummy, and as much as he’d want to tease you for calling him your husband, he’d be too shy to actually do it. you calling him that would make him so happy for some reason, even though he knows that you mainly do it as a prank or a joke to mess with him. don’t do it in front of people, though, or he’ll run away

❥ woozi 

“anything for you, baby.” woozi always indulges in all of your silly antics and jokes, and this time it’d be no different. he’d try to act as unaffected as he could, but his acting skills are not always the best, so you’d still be able to catch a glimpse of a small smile and blushy cheeks. he isn't the type to think about marriage, kids, and your domestic future together, he prefers to focus on what you have now, but hearing that word coming from you, would make his heart flutter a bit faster

❥ dk 

“yes, i am.” smiles cutely at you, and gives you a bone crushing hug, while freaking the fuck out on the inside. he won’t comment on it too much in the moment, but the way he’d be extra clingy throughout the day, giving you ten times more kisses, and hugs, and pouts, and any physical affection. the thought of becoming your husband some day is so??? because it will happen someday, and that’s kind of crazy

❥ mingyu 

cue mingoo giggles, because that man would not be able to behave himself after hearing the word husband from you. will whine, smile, laugh, hug you, pick you up and spin you around like a lovesick teenager, and when he finally calms down, he’d give you the biggest smooch. even though you had marriage talks plenty of times before - you both knew you’d get married some time in the feature, hearing it from you - saying it so casually, messed with his heart so much 

❥ minghao 

as someone who has mentioned a couple of times before that he wants to get married, hearing the word “husband” coming from you would make him so so happy and giddy, to the point where he’d just stand there with a lovesick smile on his face, and the urge to hug and kiss the life out of you (he wouldn’t though, he has to keep his composure) (but don’t worry, he’d kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loves you) (all with an adorable blush covering his cheeks)

❥ seungkwan 

turns into a shy and blushy mess. seungkwan’s first instinct is to hide his face in his hands or your neck, so you wouldn’t see the effect that the word had on him (even though you could clearly see how it affected him). then he’d probably proceed to yell at you (lovingly) for making such mean jokes (he wants to be your husband now, boyfriend is not enough)

❥ vernon 

at first he would think that he had misheard you, so you’d have to repeat the word two or three more times, because why would you ever call him your husband? and when you’d clarify that, yes - you did say the word “husband”, and yes - it was directed to him, vernon would just stare at you with big eyes but no thoughts. you’d laugh at him immediately, because the lack of his reaction was even funnier than if he’d react. then he’d say “thank you” and proceed with the rest of his day with the word “husband” floating around his head

❥ chan 

leechan.exe has stopped working. looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pointing at himself, as if he was asking if you were really talking about him. it’s so crazy to him that you’d call him that even as a joke, because hearing the word “husband” coming from you is??? hello??? and the fact that someday he’ll really be your husband??? you can expect chan to be a bit more clingy than he usually is (a bit more pouty too, because what do you mean you called him that as a joke?)

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[mingwrites]

I’m not sure if you have done this but can you do something about how ateez will feel after a concert or especially Coachella, all h.rny and all js being very dominant? (I love your work btw, I think it’s very true to them)

hello there, first of all thank u so much for the compliment thats so sweet 🥺 and second i really hope u enjoy~!

ateez after a concert

seonghwa ~ it was a hot night, as evident by the sweat stains soaking through seonghwa's low-cut tank. backstage, he dashed around the room, panting as he repeated, "where's my y/n? where's my y/n?" you didn't even care that he looked insane. you ran to him and he scooped you up in a big hug, lifting you off your feet. "you guys were so good," you cheered, holding the tired, sweaty man as close as possible. seonghwa set you down but held both of your hands in his. “thanks, baby,” he smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss you. you pecked him on the lips, about to pull away when you felt his hand comb through your hair, pulling your lips closer to his. your stomach filled with butterflies at seonghwa’s command and you happily submitted to him, leaning into his touch. his lips searched desperately for an entrance into yours, and you obliged him, parting your lips as his tongue came flooding into your mouth. with a mind of their own, your legs backed you up against the wall and seonghwa followed closely. his hips crashed into yours when you collided with the wall, causing both of you to moan at the sudden pressure. you laughed into the kiss and seonghwa finally pulled away to look at you. “what’s gotten into you?” you asked. seonghwa was breathing hard and stared at you with heavy eyelids. “i just…really need you.” a ping of arousal shot between your legs and you responded, "let's get out of here."

hongjoong ~ his ride raced across the city, headed for his hotel. unfortunately for both of you, the 15-minute ride was just a little too long. you sat impatiently in the back seat beside your lover, his hand on your thigh. you held his hand tight as your legs subconsciously squeezed together, relieving a little bit of the heat in your clit. hongjoong's tongue was exploring your mouth, meanwhile your free hand crept its way toward his lap. he moaned lewdly when you landed on his hard dick, a raw, vulnerable quality in his voice as if he hadn't been touched in ages. "that's it, darling," he whispered, "go on, touch." you glanced to make sure the driver wasn't snooping before undoing hongjoong's pants and wrapping your hand around his bare skin. "good girl," he sighed, his head falling back on the headrest. he fit snugly in your hand, the feeling of his veins and sight of his red, leaking head causing your legs to tingle. you pumped him just a few times before the car came to a stop. “we’re here, mr. kim."

yunho ~ practically running through the revolving hotel door, you giggled along with your boyfriend as you held tight his large hand. you headed straight for the elevator, the wetness pooling between your legs in preparation for the night ahead. yunho pressed a button and the elevator doors closed. then he immediately turned to you and pressed you against the wall, his hand finding your jaw and pulling you to him as his lips made a mess of yours. you moaned when his hand trailed down to your chest, grabbing a handful of squishy flesh and massaging your taut nipple. then his hand drifted lower, sneaking past the waistband of your pants and underwear, where he found your soaked and swollen sex. he smirked into his kiss as he dipped his finger inside, coating it in your arousal before rubbing a few tentative circles on your clit. you swore your legs almost gave out at the sensation. he made you moan a few times before sliding back inside, now hooking his fingers into your sweet spot and stroking it gently. the elevator made a ding and yunho pulled away from the kiss. he looked down at you and said, "i'm gonna make this pussy all mine."

yeosang ~ you collapsed onto the hotel mattress and yeosang wasted no time before reaching for your zipper. he freed you of your bottoms, the cool air hitting your already messy pussy. then he kneeled on the floor, pulling you toward the edge of the bed so your pussy was right in front of his face. "i love you," he said, not giving you a second to respond before taking the breath right out of you. his warm, soft tongue licked a slow stripe from your sopping entrance to the tip of your clit, causing your legs to instinctively close around his head. he groaned at the feeling of your thighs against his warm cheeks then gently pushed them back toward the mattress. you ran a hand through his hair, messy and a little damp with sweat from performing. he continued rubbing his tongue against your clit, switching every so often between quick flicking motions and long, sucking kisses. it was the sucking, along with the deep sounds of satisfaction yeosang made that got you off so damn quickly. your legs closed again, and this time he let them, sticking his tongue out for you to grind against as you rode the waves of orgasm. when you finally looked down at his gorgeous face between your legs, he said, "i was waiting all night to do that."

sannie ~ "go ahead, pretty girl," he said, one hand around his massively hard dick and the other in your hair, "suck it." you obediently opened wide, sticking your tongue out just to drive san crazy. saliva dripped down your tongue which made san moan, his hand guiding his dick to your lips. "so hungry for me, aren't you, babe?" you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and moaned in response to his question. san's head rolled back and he let out a deep groan, his hips twitching a little at the feeling of your warm, tight mouth. with his hand on the back of your head, he gently urged you down the length of his dick, an action you didn't resist. you leaned all the way in until he poked at the back of your throat, when he let out a satisfied moan, then you went a little further. "that's a good girl," he praised, his hips beginning to move on their own, fucking your mouth slowly. you continued to suck on him dutifully, stroking him with a flat tongue and letting him use you how he wanted.

mingi ~ you lied on your belly with your ass up in the air, your pussy an empty hole just waiting to be filled. mingi got positioned behind you, his hands around your waist and his huge dick standing tall just inches from where you needed it. he was inches from where he needed to be, too, both of you throbbing and dripping with desire. you swore you could have cried when the head of his dick finally penetrated you, and you almost did when his girth stretched you fully, his veiny skin pressing against your sweet spot. you moaned in harmony as mingi bottomed out, his hands pulling your ass flush with his belly. you could feel him bulging through your stomach, but couldn't bask in the feeling for long as mingi's hips began to move rapidly, his dick pounding into you again and again, always hitting your sweet spot. you shoved your face into the mattress, your hands gripping fistfuls of bedsheets, as you were fucked into oblivion. you couldn't hold back the lewd sounds you made, bordering on screams and sobs, while mingi let out deep-voiced growls behind you. "love your sweet little pussy," he said, staring down at where he disappeared inside you. "all mine."

wooyoung ~ he rolled over on his back, groaning out of impatience during the few moments he wasn't inside you. you hurried along, repositioning his dick at your entrance and slowly sliding down. you sat on his pelvis, his dick throbbing inside you, but didn't move yet, instead taking the time to lean back and circle your clit with your finger. wooyoung quickly pulled your hand away, hissing at you, "don't tease me. and let me rub this." you giggled at his temper but obeyed his demands, letting his thumb pick up rubbing messy circles into your clit, and rolling your hips backward, forward. wooyoung quickly became a symphony of sounds, moaning when you bounced on his dick and whining when you slowed down. his thumb kept up its diligent work on your clit, each circle and swipe drawing you closer to the edge. wooyoung was panting, his eyes fluttering shut as he focused in on the pleasure. he said to you in a breathy voice, "gonna make you cum all over me. my sweet y/n."

jongho ~ he had you on your back, his large, muscular body forcing your legs apart. you moaned like a helpless animal as his thick length pummeled you, filling you up over and over. his powerful arms were on either side of your head, his fingers interlocked with yours. you whined as he fucked you, "please, jongho, don't stop... it feels so good..." he laughed breathily at your needy tone, speaking in your ear, "it's okay, sweetheart... i won't stop." in response to your desperate plea, his hips began to move a little faster, still hitting that perfect spot inside you. soon after, you felt the familiar tight, tingly feeling in your tummy. "jong-! oh..." your muscles tensed repeatedly around him as you came, a few more thrusts into that tightness causing jongho to reach his high in time with you. he dropped his head in the crook of your shoulder and his hips slowed to a stop as you felt his warm seed paint your walls. he lifted his head only to kiss you - a sloppy, lazy kiss in between heavy breaths. he placed his index finger underneath your chin and lifted it so you could face him. then he whispered, "you're such a good girl."

[hoseoksluna]

ROSÉ | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 5.7k

summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together

note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡

side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....

The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head. 

Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way. 

He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?

You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.

He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.

It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex. 

Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past. 

He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—

“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.

Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case. 

A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it. 

You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you. 

What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand. 

Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym. 

Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top. 

Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm. 

Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream. 

Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious. 

You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”

Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle. 

“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.

Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach. 

“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.” 

His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can. 

He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too. 

“Can I have the lollipop, please?” 

He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.

One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?” 

You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny. 

“In my mouth.” 

Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth. 

“Open.” 

You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat. 

You do open your mouth for him, however. 

He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning. 

You pretend you don’t see it. 

Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.  

“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.” 

That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear. 

You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake. 

“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.” 

You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?” 

He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?” 

It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm. 

Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it. 

You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down. 

Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet. 

And then, he drags you to his car. 

Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers. 

A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing. 

He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.” 

Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response. 

Fuck. 

Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?” 

You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips. 

And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you. 

And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken. 

It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it. 

“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek. 

“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.” 

You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come. 

Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer. 

Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last. 

He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—

Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm. 

You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”

He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?” 

“I need to come, please.” 

Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?” 

Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.” 

Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?” 

You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with. 

Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan. 

Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction. 

The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss. 

“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied. 

He grins at you. “I bet.” 

Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully. 

“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.” 

He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?” 

“Yes, so bad, please.” 

He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe. 

To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness. 

And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.” 

He wants more of your taste. 

You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds. 

“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.” 

His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.

Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop. 

“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.” 

His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed. 

Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough. 

“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?” 

Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.” 

“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?” 

You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.” 

He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream. 

Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?” 

You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear. 

He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.” 

Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them. 

“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth. 

But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms. 

Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release. 

It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin. 

With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good. 

“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.” 

And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory. 

You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced. 

A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you. 

An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him. 

“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties. 

Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs. 

He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him. 

Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.” 

You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else. 

“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently. 

“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.” 

You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first. 

The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them. 

“I love you.” 

Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time. 

“I love you.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[sluttywoozi]

April Shower | jww x f!reader

Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight

Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention

Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track

AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖

Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 

This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 

His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 

He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 

Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 

There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 

It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 

Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 

With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 

He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 

He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 

Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 

He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 

Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 

“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 

He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 

He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 

He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 

He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 

The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 

Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 

Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 

He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 

The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 

Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 

Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 

Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 

“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 

He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 

“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 

You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 

The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 

He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 

“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 

“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 

He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 

He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 

Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 

Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 

He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 

All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 

He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 

“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 

“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 

You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 

Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 

He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 

Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”

“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?

“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 

You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”

“Ohhhh.”

Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 

“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.

He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 

The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”

“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 

He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 

“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 

“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”

“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.

“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 

Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 

He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 

You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 

Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 

He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 

He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 

He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”

“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 

“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.

He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 

But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 

You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 

Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 

So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 

He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 

Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 

Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 

He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 

He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 

“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 

“Oh!” 

He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 

“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 

He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 

“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 

“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 

“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 

You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 

“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 

A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 

He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 

“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 

You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 

But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 

He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 

He’ll be busy tonight, after all.

Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 

He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 

He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 

An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 

A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 

This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.

The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 

It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 

His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 

“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 

You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 

“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 

Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 

He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 

Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 

He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 

“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 

“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 

He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 

You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 

It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 

It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 

You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 

He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 

He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 

By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 

Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 

“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”

You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”

He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 

He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 

“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 

He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 

That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 

“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 

“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 

“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”

“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.

“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”

Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 

His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 

It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 

He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 

“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 

He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”

“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 

“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 

When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”

Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 

“Of course I do.”

Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 

“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 

“Maybe he missed you?”

You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”

“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 

You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 

He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 

Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 

The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”

He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 

He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 

He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 

Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 

The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”

“Black is great, thank you.”

He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 

You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 

“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 

Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  

“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 

“What are you like in bed?”

Oh. 

Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 

Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-

He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.

“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 

“Is there anything specific that you like?”

This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 

They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 

“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.

“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”

You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 

You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 

You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 

“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 

“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 

He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 

“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 

I like everything you do. 

You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 

The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 

That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 

“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 

“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 

“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.

If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 

He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 

That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 

So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 

He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 

This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 

He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 

He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 

You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 

“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 

“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 

“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”

You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 

“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 

He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 

You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 

He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 

It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 

You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 

He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 

You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 

His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 

You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”

He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 

He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 

His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 

He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 

He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 

“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 

Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 

Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”

“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 

His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 

“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 

“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 

He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 

“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 

Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.

“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 

It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 

“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 

He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 

“Lay down for me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 

But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 

Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 

He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 

You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 

He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 

It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”

You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 

He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 

“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”

It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 

“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 

He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 

The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 

You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 

He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 

He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 

You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 

You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 

Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 

He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 

You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 

He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 

He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 

Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 

He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 

He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 

He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 

He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 

He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 

“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 

But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 

He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 

Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 

You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 

He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.

Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 

He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 

You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 

“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 

“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 

“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 

He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 

It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 

He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 

His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 

That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 

When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 

He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 

You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 

Like mother, like son.

Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 

This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 

He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 

You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 

He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 

AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖

“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"

“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"

“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"

My Masterlist

[pirateprincessblog]

outlaw

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"another one, sweetheart."

i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.

"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.

your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.

if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"you're quitting school."

just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.

"hey, bitch, over here!"

monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.

reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.

the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.

sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.

you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.

a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.

the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.

"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"

you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.

"hungry?"

this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.

"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."

he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.

"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."

charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.

"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."

but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.

"clumsy girl," he teases.

you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.

"wyatt," he calls.

the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.

"you go on. i'll catch up with you."

without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.

you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.

the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.

"if you're done staring, you can join me."

caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.

"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."

and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?

you should really get home.

thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.

"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.

it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.

"i'll take you home."

"no!"

the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.

you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."

"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"because."

"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."

if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.

fuck.

"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.

"lies."

"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"

"does he beat you every day?"

he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.

"or only when you do something wrong?"

"i don't see how that's any of your business."

"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."

you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?

"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."

you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.

when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.

he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.

"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.

"i'll be fine." you lie.

you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."

he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.

"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."

he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.

weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.

you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.

the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"what's wrong, boy?"

denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."

"who is?"

"the stallion."

you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.

your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.

"good day, darling."

your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."

"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.

"uh, yes-"

"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.

the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"

"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."

the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."

you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-

"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.

"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"

defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."

alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.

"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"

you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.

his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"

you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.

"that's okay."

his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.

he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.

realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes. 

as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."

hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.

you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.

and you don't even know his name.

"did he touch you?"

"what?!"

"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"

"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"

he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"

"like?"

"anything."

"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."

smack.

nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot  cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.

"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."

"but it's dinner time-"

"judith will help me. go. now."

not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?

you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.

"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.

"oh." is all you manage to say.

"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."

"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.

"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"

no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?

"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"

you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.

"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."

other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.

"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."

you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.

"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."

his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?

"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."

"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"

"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."

"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"

"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."

"i didn't want to-"

"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."

"no."

the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.

your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.

"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."

tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.

"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"

his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.

"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."

you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?

"let's get you washed."

after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.

you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.

if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.

the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?

for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.

saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.

"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."

"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"

"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.

they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.

but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.

slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.

"gin."

"right away."

the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.

"say, when are we going to have fun again?"

"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"

yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.

"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.

he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.

"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.

"what?"

"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."

"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."

"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."

great.

you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

he is so manly, so handsome, and so...

"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"

he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."

you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?

"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."

"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.

you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-

"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"

"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.

"give yourself some time to think."

the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.

"uh... can you sit up straight?"

yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.

"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"

"right away, darling."

he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.

"you missed a spot."

"huh?"

"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.

"oh, sorry."

he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.

"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.

"but-"

"i'll finish up. go."

coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.

yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.

you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.

"i can't do it." 

"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."

"i need time."

jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?

"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."

"what, he spoke to you about me?"

wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.

"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.

you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"

the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."

"what do you mean? yes or no?"

"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.

"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."

you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."

"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"

"jongho. shut the fuck up."

"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."

the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.

the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.

how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.

it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.

the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.

"aren't you cute?"

your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.

"moonshine."

click. click. click.

"come on, girl."

the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.

"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"

your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.

"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."

his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.

"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"

the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.

"heavens." he exhales.

you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.

"darling?"

his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?

you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.

"had a good nap?"

"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"that's no place to sleep, dove."

"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."

he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.

"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."

"i'm not sure-"

"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.

the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.

"go on, climb her."

"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."

"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."

with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.

"is she fast?"

"she can be. want to see?"

"i don't know. i might scream."

he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?

"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.

you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.

you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.

his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.

"you alright?"

"yes!"

"how do you feel? scared?"

"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"

his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.

"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.

"a bit."

this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.

you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?

"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."

and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.

"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."

"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."

"take it."

"no."

"take it."

"i don't want to."

yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-

"why would you do that?!"

you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.

"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."

"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."

his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.

"you know my name."

"yeah."

"how?"

and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.

"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."

you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"

"a psycho."

"oh."

"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."

he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."

"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."

"then... why did you keep it?"

"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."

"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."

he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."

so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?

"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"

"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.

"he stole your first kiss."

"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.

"what- what are you doing?"

"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."

you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.

you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.

he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.

"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.

"like what?"

"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."

"maybe i do."

"you're saying risky things, sugar."

seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.

"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.

he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.

"what is it?"

"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."

the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."

"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.

"like a feast."

with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"

"sit."

"what?!"

"sit."

you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.

"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."

you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"

the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.

"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.

deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"

"yes, please."

"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."

he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.

"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."

you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.

"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."

he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?

"this good, darling?"

"yes."

"yes, what?"

"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.

he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.

"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"

"what?"

"do you wish to be mine?"

do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:

"yes, sir."

"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.

"yunho."

he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."

"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.

"again."

"yunho-"

"more."

"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"

he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.

"does it hurt?"

"no," you reply.

"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."

that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.

"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."

"me too," you moan.

his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.

"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."

"so sweet"

"even your moans are so beautiful"

"use me for your pleasure, darling"

you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.

"yunho..."

"yes, my love?"

"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."

"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."

you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.

"let's try this."

he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.

"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.

"wait, what about you?"

"i'll just- i don't know."

his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?

"are you sure?"

"positive."

"absolutely sure?"

"yunho?"

"yes?"

"please cum in my mouth."

and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"you are just perfect, aren't you?"

in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.

upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?

he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.

"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.

"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.

you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.

"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."

"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."

blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."

"he shot her."

"you shot my father!"

"he deserved it!"

"no, the fuck he didn't!"

you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?

"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.

"don't touch me."

"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."

he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.

"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.

"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."

he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?

"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."

"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."

yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?

"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."

and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.

why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?

"you're all mine now, sunshine."

feedback greatly appreciated! <3