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#you know the feeling of desperately shoving information into your brain to stop thinking?
hehearse · 4 months
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GOD YOUR ART ALWAYS SLAPS IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD particular shoutout to how you depicted the company holding kdj back from stabbing himself, the shakiness while he's completely sold really sells the disassociation and panic of it all. it's like i can hear that classic anime high ringing note as everything else drops away....man. and him kneeling while the company walks away...a lot of people 51% as almost serene, with the unlucky smile, but i enjoy your alternate interpretation of him desperate and afraid! 51% is all the parts of himself kdj thinks arent worth protecting! of course that includes his fear! man! god! im sorry this ask includes spoilers but MAN UR ART IS SO GOOD IM SO HAPPY YOU READ ORV CONGRATULATIONS WELCOME FULLY TO THE SUBWAY
HEHE I'M GLAD IT WORKED i really wanted to make the panic shine through hehe... (<- evil)
AW i didn't know that's how 51% is usually depicted! i wonder why. o would probably make the 49% more serene, the calmly gave up type of vibe? (well i already did but it'll take a bit for me to get to that sketch)
and isn't kim dokja at 51% terrified? staggering alone in the empty train, feeling the void in himself where the promise of happily ever after was? having to stop crying, to regulate his own breathing, trying to see still if he can at least leave the train carriage? letting go of the hands holding his wilfully? something something the kim dokja getting the happily ever after is never the kim dokja who is talking to us, it's the avatar, the oldest dream. even if there's no one else to receive the happy ending, he finds a way to say "that's not meant for me, sorry"? terrifying! sad!
thank you thank you... only took me an approptiate time (eternity) to get here- /dragged away/
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konigsblog · 5 months
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I feel like Price would use rape as a means of interrogation, it's extremely painful and humiliating, the threat of it alone can make some people spill their secrets.
Would be pretty bad if readers innocent tho, no enemy secrets to share, nothing to bargain with, not even knowing what price thinks they've done. Just no way to stop it, reader would just have to wait for price to be done , and who knows how long that would take
tw; rape, interrogation, false accusations, dark fiction. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT · MDNI 18+
john price doesn't give you any hint to what answers he's looking for.
you're left trembling, your limbs tied with rope to a metal chair inside the cold, terrifying interrogation room. it doesn't matter how many times you scream and shout that you're innocent, that he has the wrong person, price doesn't listen, believing you're just lying, attempting to get yourself out of this mess.
you could take the beatings, the slaps and the punches that left your nose bloody with crimson and your bottom lip split, but the sickening and horrifying threats of rape sent shivers down your spine. you pleaded desperately with john, begging him for any hints for what answers he was looking for. although your attempts at bargaining were fruitless, he didn't listen to your piteous and feared cries and took your denial as ‘disobedience’.
your breathing became quick and laborious at the threats, threatening to rape your poor throat and your body ‘til you're limp and bloody, perhaps even lifeless if you still didn't cooperate with him. you were almost frozen in place when he began to unfasten his leather belt. you shuddered and sobbed out through horror and terror, attempting to squirm away to no avail, his calloused and grimey hands gripping your head.
his attempts at intimidating you were working, but you didn't have any valuable information to offer him. you were completely innocent, you didn't have a clue why you were here in the first place. with nothing to tell price, he forced his musky, meaty cock down your throat painfully, showing you no pity or sympathy while stuffing your mouth with his girthy size. you choked and gagged and retched, gurgling on the intrusion shoved down your strained throat, choking ln your saliva. you spat all over yourself, slobbering and dribbling around his lengthy dick, attempting to catch your breathe desperately.
he threatened you with a pistol pressed against the crown of your skull, that if you bit him or used your teeth against his large dick then he wouldn't hesitate to blow your brains out. your eyes were wide with agony and fear, glistening in the dim light.
you were forced to stay still at his mercy with the rope scratching and rubbing against your bare skin, causing burns and goosebumps to spread over the exposed surface of skin. he wouldn't hesitate to take it a step further and rape your weak, defenceless body if you still weren't willing to cooperate. it's not as if you could provide any information that they could use, you were nothing but useless. this was a mistake that they didn't realise, and you were now subjected to different forms of torture and abuse.
he'd bend you over the interrogation table, forcing you to look at the security camera in the corner of the room, shaming you for being disobedient, for misbehaving and refusing to give them any answers. knowing this was all being recorded caused your stomach to churn, the bloody mess left between your thighs stinging and agonising, the pain spreading and intensifying with each hard and merciless thrust, his brutality and cruelty causing you wail out and scream through disgust and pain.
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fizzy-fuzz · 11 months
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Hi! I saw that your requests are open? I apologize if this request is a bit too uncomfortable for you.
I would like to request some preferably headcanons of SCP-073 and SCP-076-2 when they find out they have feelings for a (preferably male please, there's too many females out there already ;-;, no offense for the women out there) Researcher? Like how do they deal with it, how long it takes for them to confess, etc?
I am desperate for some SCP-073 x Male!Reader, and SCP-076-2 x Male!Reader cause there's too many Female/Gender-Neutral (but still has female traits for some reason) reader ;-;
AN: Hello! Sorry this took awhile... I honestly kept rewriting this because I wasn't sure how to make this feel like it was written for a man, and not just something vague for everyone.
I added a few headcanons for how they'd treat a male lover over a female, So i hope this is okay for you.
if not I'd love to hear some tips on how to make it better, if you're willing to give feedback <3 (just message me, or send in another ask. I can't reply to comments since this isn't my main account)
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SCP-073 (Cain)
⁠You both probably ment pretty casually. Maybe during lunch or just passing by in the hallways.
Cain didn't think much of you at first honestly.
Until he was passing by your office and heard you arguing with another researcher about the ethics of using him as an live information vault.
He stopped for a moment and lingered outside of your office, listening to you rant about how it wasn't fair to him.
He was honestly shocked, in a good way.
Cain was used to people being... Decent to him, sure.
But to have someone so passionately argue his happiness?
Unheard of.
Cain is quick to fall for you after that, and boy does he fall hard.
he deals with these new feelings by following his heart blindly.
Often hanging around you and lending hands wherever he can.
When he works up the courage his confession is sickly sweet, filled with stutters and nervous chuckles.
I also feel like he's the type of guy to write a confession poem.
He's just whipped like that.
If you accept, (which honestly, who would reject him?) He'll be overjoyed!
Man or not, Cain takes the lead in the relationship for the most part.
Throwing an arm around your shoulders, holding doors for you, giving you flowers (plastic, of course)
though, I do think he treats a male lover slightly different then a female.
He's slightly less watchful over you, less protective in general.
It's not that he cares less, just that he's less worried about you.
Also, for some reason I feel like he'd play wrestle with a male lover a lot.
Expect to be put in a gentle/playful headlock.
At the end of the day, Cain is still the sweet golden retriever boy he is.
That definitely doesn't change at all.
SCP-076-2 (Able)
He ment you during one of his rampages, when you got separated from the task force that was escorting you to safety.
Left alone with nothing but a small pistol to defend yourself with.
He quickly gained a large portion of respect for you when you held your ground against him despite being just a researcher.
Not once did you look cowardly or frightened, clutching your guns with a rather good poster and stance, despite your minimal combat training.
Truly a respectable sight to behold.
And Able knows a warrior when he sees one.
In fact, you were so ferocious that he paused his pursuit for just a moment to study you.
A moment long enough for you to shove your gun to his chin and blow his brains out.
I would say that's when the first few sparks flew for him.
After that, every other rampage was spent looking for you, and ending with you putting a bullet through his head.
I don't think he's all that in tune with his feelings, so he definitely doesn't get that what he's feeling is attraction, and not just respect/interest
He's got a thick skull, it takes him awhile...
But when he does realize. he's confused, and a little unsure of himself.
He's really never felt this way about a man before.
He's never felt this way about anyone before.
He's felt pretty much nothing but anger and desire for vengeance for such a long time, that this new feeling is as overwhelming as it is relieving.
I imagine he holes himself up within SCP-076-1 for a few days he learns to deal with these new feelings.
Of course you're the one sent in to confront him about his sudden strange behavior.
Since he's somewhat more docile around you.
This is when he takes his opportunity to confess to you.
Don't expect anything heartfelt or romantic, it's more of a spur-of-the-moment decision then anything.
And don't expect any hints beforehand.
He doesn't get a whole lot of privacy, so he thought it'd be a good spot to do so.
You'd probably be pretty confused i'd imagine, considering you thought he had some sort of bloodlust for you.
Turns out it was a different kind of lust
but we're gonna assume you don't reject his sudden confession, and choose to start a relationship with him.
Contrary to Cain, you're going to have to take the lead with this relationship.
I just can't imagine him being a very confident lover.
Confident in battle yes, but in the art of love? Nah, it's just not happening.
I don't think he'd treat a male lover any differently than a female lover.
I just don't think he's aware of typical relationship "gender norms" like that.
He's just as likely to follow you around frothing at the mouth whenever someone gets to close for his liking as he is a woman.
He's very jealous...
But overall, his dreams for you and him stay the same regardless of gender.
To live somewhere remote where it's just you, him, and his herd of sheep.
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mxanigel · 1 year
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Fic update: Cut to the Feeling
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an Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin) fanfic
[Read on AO3]
An in-progress longfic that asks the question, What if they lived?
Chapter 17: Evasive Maneuvers
Squad Levi and Squad Hange's efforts with the Eren experiments are cut short when the Military Police discover their location. So they devise a new plan to get the information they desperately need.
Chapter 18: Justified
Squad Levi captures two Military Police members to interrogate because the Survey Corps must learn why Historia matters. But Hange and Levi aren't asking questions as they begin torturing their first captive. Shion wrestles with the violence they inflict and her own role in that brutality.
Rating: M
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/OC, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë, Hange Zoë & OC, eventual Levi/Hange/OC
Additional Tags: They/Them Pronouns for Hange Zoë, Hange Zoë Being Hange Zoë, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Canon Character Deaths, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Spoilers, Friendship, Banter, Swearing, Angst, Love and Loss, Asexuality Spectrum, Levi Ackerman Is Obsessed With Cleaning, Falling In Love, I'm writing this because it's taken over my brain, Literal Sleeping Together, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, I have spent so many hours on the wiki lol, Largely Canon Compliant, Nightmares, Torture
----- brief chapter snippets below -----
From Chapter 17
“Thanks for using some of your rest time to work with me,” she says.
“Honestly, it’s a little scary to think about what I’d do in the field without this training,” Nifa replies. “The more of us who have first aid knowledge, the better off we all are.”
Shion nods. “My thinking exactly. Hange’s quite skilled with a needle. But they should be far from the only one who can stitch up a wound.”
Nifa grimaces. “I might pick Sasha before Captain Hange if I needed that kind of treatment.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
The three of them glance at the door. Hange’s leaning against its frame, a half-grin on their face.
“Unlike Titans, we can feel pain, you know,” Nifa replies.
“Hey! I’m careful.”
Shion arches an eyebrow.
“… When I need to be.”
------------------------------------------------------------------
From Chapter 18
Shion can’t stand by any longer. She grabs Hange’s arm. “That's enough for now.”
“But—”
“Take a break. Clear your head.”
Focus returns to their gaze, and they slowly nod. Levi’s face is inscrutable.
“Oh, these rabid dogs do listen to someone? Didn’t expect it to be you. You’re not even a captain. No wonder the Survey Corps is a joke.”
It’s like her mother is tied to that chair. The rage she’s suppressed flares through her chest. “Choose to stop speaking before I make that choice for you.”
Sannes scoffs. “As if you have the guts to—”
Shion shoves a gag into his mouth. “Choice made. Next time, I may not use cloth.”
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lunaticsandidiots · 3 years
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your nsfw headcanon’s are bloody brilliant!! i was wondering if you could do it with chris?
thank you babes!!! and it would by my pleasure 😈
NSFW Chris Headcanons…
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(afab gn!reader) (nsfw 18+)
i know i already said it for economos but… we have to address it… size kink.
i mean fucking look at him, chris’ biceps are the size of god damned watermelons.
chris would adore wrapping his huge arms around you and pounding into you like his own personal sex toy.
and if you were on top, it’d be like you were sitting on top of a god damned life raft. chris would love watching you above him, holding yourself up with your hands splayed across his chiselled abs, groping away at his pecs.
chris would totally get impatient towards the end though, unable to stop himself from holding you in a vice grip and once again fucking you into next week from underneath you.
speaking of which, i feel like chris would be 100% more rough than he is kinky. not to say he wouldn’t have his kinks, but i think pushing and shoving and manhandling and choking and slapping and spitting if you were down with it would be a lot more common.
god if you were down with it you’d have to be careful not to get your brains fucked out for good; chris would love nothing more than watching you babbling and mewling, so cockdrunk you can no longer talk, with your eyes rolled into the back of your head and his cock almost brushing your god-damned innards.
chris would also 100% love a softer, more tender fuck as well. he’s a total softie deep down and would simply melt at the concept of getting all touchy-feely and romantic with somebody he trusts.
it would still be super intense though, chris’ wandering hands and hungry mouth would still leave marks that last for days, and you’d still wind up a blubbering, stuttering mess collapsed in a heap with him by the end.
but it would be because he took his sweet time with you. there wouldn’t be a notable amount of edging or overstimulation, but chris wouldn’t even think about fucking you until you were brought to tears with his mouth alone.
speaking of tears, i feel like the more romantic, soft lovemaking (feels more fitting than ‘fucking’ in this context) may bring chris to tears.
not necessarily in a mood-breaking, stressful way, but in a way where its the both of you with your bodies pressed painfully close together and you’re both so close to tumbling over the edge,
and maybe chris is curled around you from behind, or maybe his head is tucked into the crook of your neck where he’s whispering praise after praise in between sweet, desperate kisses,
and maybe your hands are sifting through his messy, sweaty hair, or maybe they’re holding you steady by wrapping themselves around his strong shoulders,
and all the two of you can babble out between you is a string of broken ‘i love you’s in between gasps and cries, and chris looks up to tell you he can’t last any longer and you’re planning to do the same,
and the second his eyes meet yours the both of you just break, and theres a flood of tears to usher forth your synchronised undoings as the both of you are left howling and writhing and rutting and grunting and just so completely overtaken by the sheer amount of love in the room.
chris is totally the kind of guy that wants to talk and debrief and just hang out afterwards as well. sometimes with a joint passed between the two of you, sometimes with your head resting on one of his hard (but still pillowy) pecs, sometimes with his head resting on your chest,
but chris would just want to talk to you about anything and everything, whether he’s informing you that the way you clenched around him made him see stars, or asking you what your favourite album of all time is,
he’d just be absolutely reeling from the connection with you, never wanting to fall asleep in fear of missing out on a single second of it.
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lys1 · 3 years
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Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 
Playing With Potions
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The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.
You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.
Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.
The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.
"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.
Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.
You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.
"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."
Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.
He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.
"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."
Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.
The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.
"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.
"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.
Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"
The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."
"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."
"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.
Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"
"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.
"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.
Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."
You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.
"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."
Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."
Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.
The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.
"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.
You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."
Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."
Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.
He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.
You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.
Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."
You nod as he explains, it makes sense.
Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.
In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.
"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.
Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."
Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.
"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.
Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.
Escape!
"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.
All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.
Help!
Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.
The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.
You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.
Thank you!
Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.
"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.
You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.
Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.
"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.
"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."
You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.
"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.
Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.
"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.
You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.
You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.
That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.
The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.
Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.
"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.
You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.
"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.
After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.
"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.
You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.
Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.
Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.
"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.
After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.
Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.
You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.
"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.
You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.
You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.
As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.
"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.
"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.
"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.
You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.
He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.
You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.
You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.
"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.
You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.
His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.
With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.
"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."
"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.
He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.
You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."
To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.
"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."
Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.
Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.
"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.
"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."
You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.
His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.
"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.
Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.
Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.
You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.
"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.
"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.
"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.
You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.
You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.
"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.
"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.
He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.
You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.
Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.
Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.
Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.
"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.
You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.
"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.
Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."
Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."
1K notes · View notes
nctsworld · 4 years
Text
two nights, one you
✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 
SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 
AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 
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⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!
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Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.
Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.
Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    
Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.
Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  
It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.
You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.
But then, you land on him.
One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.
Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.
The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:
“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”
You swipe right without hesitation.
“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  
Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  
Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  
so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?
Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:
-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)
He’s quick to send his address.
-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!
Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:
tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛
-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛
Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.
“Hi,” you chirp.
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  
Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  
“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  
“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.
Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.
“So, this is my place...”
Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.
Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”
“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”
He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”
Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.
“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”
A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”
“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”
Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  
“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”
“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”
You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.
Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  
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So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  
Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.
But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.
And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.
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In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.
Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.
The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.
“Morning. You’re finally up.”
Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  
“Out you go.”
You blink.
Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.
After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  
Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.
You definitely heard him right.
And he’s dead-serious.
You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—
Realization dawns on you.
Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?
Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  
“What the fuck?!” you screech.
“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”
“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  
“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”
“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”
Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.
“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  
“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  
He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”
Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—
“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”
You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.
Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.
“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”
“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”
With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.
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Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.
“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”
As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.
“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”
He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”
With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.
“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”
The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”
Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.
Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.
Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.
“Well, shit.”  
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Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.
Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.
At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.
As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.
After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.
“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.
“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.
“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.
“No, you.”
You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.
“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”
He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.
“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”
His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.
“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.
Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.
“Fine.”
He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  
One minute, to be exact.
You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.
“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”
Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”
“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.
“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”
One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”
“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”
He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”
Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”
“Do you plead the fifth then?”
Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.
You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”
“Bigger or smaller than average?”
“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.
He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”
You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”
Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.
“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”
Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”
“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.
“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.
Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.
“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”
“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”
“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.
“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”
So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.
No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.
“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”
There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.
Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”
Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”
Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.
“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”
As if you had anywhere else to go...  
He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”
“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  
“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  
“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.
The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.
Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.
You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.
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During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.
Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.
You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.
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By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.
“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.
“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.
“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”
You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”
That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”
You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”
“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  
You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.
Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”
And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.
“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.
“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.
Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.
“And what’s so wrong with that?”
Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  
“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”
Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  
“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”
Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.
“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”
“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”
“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.
He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”
Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.
Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?
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Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  
So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.
“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”
Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.
“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.
“I do not! I just—nooo!”
You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.
Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    
“What?” you eye him suspiciously.
Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.
“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”
Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  
Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.
“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”
Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.
Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.
You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.
You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.
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On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.
From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  
“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”
A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”
“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.
You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  
You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  
Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?
“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”
“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.
“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”
Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”
He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”
“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  
He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.
“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”
With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.
“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.
“Non-existent.”
“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”
You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.
“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”
You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”
“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”
Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.
“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  
Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”
Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”
You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”
“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”
He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”
“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”
“I’m premed, of course I—”
“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”
You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”
“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.
You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”
“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”
Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”
“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”
With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.
“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”
When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  
After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”
You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”
The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.
Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”
“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”
“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  
You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.
“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.
“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”
You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.
“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.
“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”
“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”
“Don’t be scared to touch me.”
“I touched you so much during—”
He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.
“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”
The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”
Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.
“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”
“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  
“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”
He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”
“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”
“Try to make you come in other ways?”
Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”
“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”
A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  
“Why don’t we try it again?”
Perplexed, you squint at him.
“Try what again...?”
“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.
You blankly stare at him.
“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.
“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 
You continue to stare at him until you groan.
“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”
Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”
“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.
“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  
Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  
God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  
“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”
“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”
You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.
They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.
“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”
“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”
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“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”
On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.
“Is Chenle your roommate?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”
With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”
Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.
The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.
You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.
The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  
His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.
He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.
Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.
The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.
Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    
After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”
“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.
He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.
Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.
Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.
In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  
On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.
Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.
“I’m ticklish over there.”
“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”
With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.
“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”
When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.
The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.
He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.
Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.
You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.
Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.
Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  
“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.
“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”
Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.
“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.
Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.
Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.
“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”
He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.
“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”
You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”
His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.
Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.
But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.
You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.
Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  
You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.
Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.
A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  
“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.
He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”
You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.
“Use your words, Jaemin.”
Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.
“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”
“Anything to critique?”
“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.
“Am I still rusty?”
“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”
“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.
“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    
Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.
You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  
Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.
“There, there—“
Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  
“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.
You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.
“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”
“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”
Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.
“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.
You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.
“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”
Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.
“Fuck, holy shit.”
His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.
The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  
You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”
And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  
“I’m-I’m—”
You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.
Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.
“Was that real?”
You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  
With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.
“Ready for the last round?”
His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    
Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.
As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.
Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.
“Told you we weren’t going to die.”
You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.
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By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.
But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.
In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.
During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  
“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.
He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.
“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  
“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.
Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  
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After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  
“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”
You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.
“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”
A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”
After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.
“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.
“Do you...?”
Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  
And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.
Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.
“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”
“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”
“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.
Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”
His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”
You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.
“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”
Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  
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Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.
Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.
He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.
The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.
The date he asked you out on.
You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.
Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.
Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.
But that’s not what you’re focusing on.
Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.
It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.
A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.
Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.
But to cheat?
That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.
You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.
With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.
He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  
He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.
“Wait! I can explain!”
You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.
“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”
“No, listen to me for a second.”
The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.
“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”
“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”
Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.
“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”
Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  
“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”
You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”
He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.
“She cheated on me.”
The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  
But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  
Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”
Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.
“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”
He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.
“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”
You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 
“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”
He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.
“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”
His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.
“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
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Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.
It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.
“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.
Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  
Because you choose to be.
Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  
Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.
What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?
The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.
The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  
Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.
Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.
And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  
You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.
As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.
And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  
Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.
Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  
A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.
The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.
“And who might you be?” he asks.
“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.
You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”
“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.
“What are you doing h—”
You cut him off with a kiss.
An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  
Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”
“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  
He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”
“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”
Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.
“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”
He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.
“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.
Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.
“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.
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Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.
With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.
“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”
You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”
He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.
“Maybe I didn’t.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.
“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    
You sharply turn your head.
“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  
A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.
“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”
7K notes · View notes
sweeterthanthis · 4 years
Text
Your Filthy Heart
Part Three: The Pure and The Poison
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Your Filthy Heart Masterlist
Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!
Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.
Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.
 Word Count: 3.5k
“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 
There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 
He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.
You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 
“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”
“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 
Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 
Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 
You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 
Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 
“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 
Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 
Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 
She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  
You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 
But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 
You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 
You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 
“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 
James. 
She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 
You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 
“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 
Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 
He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 
“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 
The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 
“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 
Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 
At the worst possible moment. 
“What do we have here?” 
Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 
Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 
“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 
All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 
“Finally, huh?” 
Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 
“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 
The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 
With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 
“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”
Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 
As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 
You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.
Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 
As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 
“Oh!”
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 
Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 
Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 
How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 
“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 
Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 
Fuck him. 
You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 
He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 
Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 
“What the-” 
One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 
He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 
Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 
But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 
The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 
“How dare—”
Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.
Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 
“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 
Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 
“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”
“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”
One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 
“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 
You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 
“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”
The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 
“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 
Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 
“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  
Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.
“Daddy—” 
His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 
“Suck.” 
You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 
“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 
A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 
Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 
You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.
“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 
“Daddy, I-” 
“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 
Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 
It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  
“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 
His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 
Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 
“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”
Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 
You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 
“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 
Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 
“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 
You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 
“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 
Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 
You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 
“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 
Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 
It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 
You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 
“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 
Baby. 
Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 
“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 
It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 
He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 
“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 
You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 
You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 
“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 
He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 
“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 
“Again.”
“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 
There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 
Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 
“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 
Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 
Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 
“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”
You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 
“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”
You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 
“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 
“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”
You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 
“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 
With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 
Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 
Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 
No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.
As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 
“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 
You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.
“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 
“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 
Our girl. 
It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 
“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 
“Please, call me Bucky.” 
You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.
He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 
This was what you needed.
This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 
So why did it feel so wrong? 
What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 
“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 
“You have no idea.” 
3K notes · View notes
starryhyuck · 4 years
Text
thin walls. (m)
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pairing: softdom!jaemin x sub!reader
words: 1.8k+
summary: you try your best to keep quiet since you know jaemin’s room is right next to yours. turns out you’re not as quiet as you think.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: dom!jaemin, bestfriend!jaemin, roommate!jaemin, oral sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie
“Isn’t it weird?”
“Is what weird?”
You’re having your weekly video call with Donghyuck and Renjun, the latter actually paying attention to your conversation while the former furiously clicks away on his keyboard.
“We’ve been quarantining for almost a year now. You haven’t gotten any dick in months and your roommate is like the hottest guy we know,” Renjun clarifies, raising an eyebrow. You both ignore the sound of Donghyuck grumbling loudly as he loses another game.
You roll your eyes. “And you’re so concerned about my sex life because?”
“Because clearly, neither me or Donghyuck have one. I’m living vicariously through you.”
That gets Donghyuck’s attention. “For your information, I am supporting many lovely women through OnlyFans. It’s only Renjun that has difficulties with sexual partners.”
Renjun scoffs. “I could have anyone on their knees for me, and we all know it.”
There’s a knock on your door and you take an earbud out when Jaemin pops his head in. He looks like a mess — his hair springing up in different places and eyes puffy. You frown at his disheveled state.
“Hey, are you still busy?”
Your fingers move at the speed of lightning, barely registering Renjun’s protest when you quickly leave the meeting. You toss your laptop and earbuds aside to give your best friend your full attention.
He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”
“Nope, not busy anymore. Are you okay, Jaem?”
He fully enters the room and shuts the door behind him. He smiles softly at you as he takes a seat on your bed.
“Not feeling too great. Just wanted to see you.”
You ignore the swell in your chest at his confession, worriedly stroking his cheek when you realize how red his eyes are. His hand comes up to play with your fingers, eyes moving in and out of focus.
“What’s wrong?” You finally ask.
He shrugs. “Didn’t do so well on my test today. Feeling a little hopeless.”
Your frown grows deeper. You move closer to him, wanting to soothe his pain.
“Don’t say that. It’s just one test, you’ll do better on the next one. I’ll help you! We can make flash cards and create some trivia games to help you remember.”
He chuckles, eyes still staring down at your connected hands.
“You always know what to say. How is that?”
You giggle. “I earned the title of your best friend for a reason.”
“I suppose you did.” His eyes move upwards to lock on you. “Can I stay here? Just for tonight.”
You freeze. You haven’t slept next to Jaemin in months, the two of you only doing so when you were really drunk or really sad. You don’t even remember what it’s like to fall asleep in your best friend’s arms.
“Sure.”
And you two fall into a quiet rhythm, Jaemin’s arms circling around you as he brings your back to his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on his steady breaths as you try to fall asleep.
You’re startled when you suddenly feel a pair of lips ghost over your neck, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone.
“J-Jaem?”
He hums in response, not showing any signs of stopping while he continues to pepper kisses on your shoulder.
“Jaem, w-what are you d-doing?”
“I heard you last night.”
You pause. You try to register what he’s saying, which you find is incredibly hard to do when his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your neck. You backtrack to last night, when you were feeling so drowsy but struggled to get to sleep. You don’t remember much, except for the fact that you reached to your nightstand to grab your vibrator-
Oh. Oh fuck.
“Y-You heard that?”
He hums again, moving to suck your neck with vigor. When he finally parts from his masterpiece, he chuckles.
“How could I not? The walls aren’t exactly thin, you know. I hear everything — all your silly commentary when you rewatch your favorite dramas, your weekly conversations with Renjun and Donghyuck, the pretty little noises you make when you turn your vibrator on, and the unmistakable sound of porn you watch when you’re really aroused.”
You feel more than embarrassed, stuttering as you try to offer an explanation. Jaemin chuckles against your ear, biting softly down on the lobe. A whimper tumbles out of your mouth before you realize it.
“I couldn’t sleep last night after listening to you. You made me fail my test, baby.”
“I’m s-sorry.”
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll let me eat you out.”
You swear your heart stops. “W-What?”
“I’m hungry. You wouldn’t want me to go to bed on an empty stomach, would you?”
“U-Um, no.”
Before you know it, you’re on your back with Jaemin between your legs. His fingers thumb over the fabric of your pajama shorts and he looks up at you, his eyes glimmering with a question.
You nod. “It’s okay, Jaem.”
With your permission, he slides your shorts down your legs and throws them haphazardly across the room. His gaze darkens at the sight of your lacy panties, which you honestly wore unintentionally today. You’re glad you picked them this morning though, because Jaemin looked like he was about to go insane at the sight.
“You’re so fucking perfect.”
And then his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core and you yelp. He’s almost predatory, shoving your underwear aside and diving into your sopping pussy. You moan when his tongue furiously licks your folds, curling in on yourself while he holds you down.
“Jaemin!”
He parts from you briefly and raises an eyebrow. “I think you have another name to call me.”
You’re confused yet again. “W-What?”
He snickers. “Forgot already? I listened to all those dirty videos you were watching, baby. I know all your cute little kinks. Now, I know you have a different name to address me as.”
“J-Jaemin, I-“
He clicks his tongue. “That’s not right.”
You gather all the courage you have inside of you, ignoring the clear embarrassment on your face by the fact that Jaemin has discovered all of your secret fantasies.
“Daddy, please eat me out.”
He smiles mischievously. “Good girl.”
You have no time to dwell on your self-consciousness before he’s sinking a finger inside of you, tongue lapping at your clit. You feel like a dog in heat, warmth spreading throughout your body as you struggle to comprehend the fact that your best friend is currently eating you out like his life depends on it.
“D-Daddy, daddy!” You scream when he slips another finger inside, curling them upwards while he sucks on your clit furiously. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“
You cry out when your orgasm sweeps over you in waves, thrashing and whimpering under Jaemin’s hold. He uses his other hand to hold your hips down when the oversensitivity crashes into you, desperately trying to push away from him.
“D-Daddy, no, I-I’m sensitive-“
Jaemin growls and holds you tighter, fingers still drilling into your pussy and mouth wrapped around your sensitive bud. You don’t have time to warn him when your second orgasm comes just as quickly as the first, convulsing around him. You try to gain a sense of strength to push him away before he can launch you into a third, and Jaemin gets the message as he parts from you.
His chin glimmers with evidence of your arousal, fingers slipping into his mouth while he tastes the remnants of your two orgasms.
He pounces on you, lips crashing into yours and you moan. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the fact shoots another spike of arousal to your core.
“What else did they do in that video, baby?” He whispers breathily. “Tell me.”
Your brain is a little fuzzy as you try to remember.
“H-He fucked the girl until she was crying and she took it. Anything to please her d-daddy.”
He smirks. “Is that what I should do to you? Fuck you until you’re crying? Will you do anything to please me?”
You know you trusted Jaemin with your life, so you nod.
“Anything for you, daddy.”
He grins. He quickly pulls down his sweatpants and his cock springs up, already half hard. You gulp at his size, and you’re suddenly reminded of why Renjun calls Jaemin the hottest guy you know. Jaemin’s girth wasn’t exactly a secret in your friend group, many rumors spreading around after Donghyuck discovered how well endowed your roommate actually was.
His fingers grip his base, slowly pumping himself while keeping his eyes locked on you.
“Like what you see, baby? Do you think your pussy is ready to take daddy’s fat cock?”
“Y-Yes, d-daddy. I c-can take your c-cock.”
He chuckles at your response, brushing strands of hair away from your face to fully look at you. His look is almost endearing, and you would swoon any other day if he wasn’t about to fuck you.
He lines himself up to your entrance, pausing for a second.
“Do I need to get a condom?”
You shake your head. “I’m on birth control. We’re fine.”
He doesn’t hesitate any longer, pushing into you slowly. You whine at the stretch. You haven’t been taken like this in months, and your vibrator is no match for his huge cock. He coaxes you through the pain, whispering softly in your ear and kissing your neck again to help ease you up.
Once he bottoms out, he waits patiently for your go ahead before moving. You can tell it’s killing him on the inside, brows pushed together as he tries his best not to pound you deep into the mattress.
“P-Please, daddy.”
Jaemin builds a steady pace inside of you, groaning and grunting into your ear as he sinks deeper and deeper. Your mind draws a blank when you struggle to form any coherent words, babbling while he impales you with his cock.
“You’re such a good girl for me. Always so good. Been waiting for this forever, baby. Dreamed so long of having you underneath me like this.”
“Daddy,” you gasp at his unexpected confession, hissing lowly when his fingers circle around your clit. Tears spring up in your eyes from the pleasure.
“Especially all those mornings when you were wearing practically nothing in front of me, you don’t even know how many times I wanted to take you on the kitchen counter.”
You cry when his cock hits you harder and faster.
“But you’re so good for me now, aren’t you, baby? So pretty and perfect for her daddy.”
“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whimper. “I’m all yours. All good for daddy.”
Jaemin groans loudly. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.”
Your orgasm is blinding, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out your high. He follows shortly after you, grunting when he shoots his cum deep inside your waiting womb.
You both lay in silence before you suddenly burst out in laughter. Jaemin eyes you.
“What?”
“We just fucked. I just fucked my best friend and called him daddy. This is so surreal.”
He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.
“Better get used to it. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in quarantine together.”
You smile. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
3K notes · View notes
h0neypjm · 4 years
Text
Confident 02 | jjk
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↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!
↳ Rating: 18+
↳ Word count: 8.8k
↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part
↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 
↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04
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Previously...
“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”
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“I’m sorry, what?”
Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”
Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”
Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”
“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”
The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.
“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”
Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”
Confusion. 
“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”
Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”
That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”
It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”
Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”
Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”
Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”
Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.
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Jungkook wants to see you again.
Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 
It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.
And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.
He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 
Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?
Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.
Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.
Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 
Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.
His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.
Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 
It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 
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You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.
The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 
“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.
The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.
Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 
You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.
“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.
“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 
You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.
You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.
“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.
“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.
“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 
You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”
Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 
“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 
Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 
“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 
You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.
It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 
Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 
The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”
She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.
Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  
Holy shit
The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 
Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 
It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 
Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 
So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.
“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 
“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”
You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 
“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”
“Wait, really?”
Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.
“Really.”
You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.
However, it seems to be quite the opposite.
Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.
Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 
“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 
Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”
Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 
The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 
You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 
You open your mouth to speak, “So-”
“I-”
An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 
“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 
“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”
You're stunned. “Huh?”
“You know… That Friday night?”
Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 
With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”
“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”
You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”
You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.
“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”
Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.
You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”
Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.
“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 
You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”
Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.
You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 
“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”
He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”
You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”
You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 
It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.
Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 
On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.
You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”
Jungkook cracks.
Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.
You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 
“You little shit-”
All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.
Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 
You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.
Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.
You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 
Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.
Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.
Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 
Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 
You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 
You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 
You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.
Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.
Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.
At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”
He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 
You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.
Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.
Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.
Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”
You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.
Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”
Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”
Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.
“Oh, I said thank you.”
You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.
Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 
He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.
You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 
His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”
Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 
“I'm sorry.” 
He says it genuinely. 
Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.
You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”
“Right.” He’s messed up.
You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”
Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”
You exhale, “yeah.”
“Jeon Jungkook!”
The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 
No, it can’t be.
The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.
Jeong Suho.
His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.
The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.
“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”
Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.
On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.
You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.
You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-
“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”
Fuck.
Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.
Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 
“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”
Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.
“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”
You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 
“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.
Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.
“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.
“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”
Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”
Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.
It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 
Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.
“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.
The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.
Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”
Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 
Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”
You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.
A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   
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Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 
Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 
The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 
Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 
Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.
It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.
The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.
Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 
“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”
Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”
“Well you never asked!”
Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 
You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.
Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.
Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 
“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 
Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 
Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.
The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 
Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.
The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”
Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 
The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.
Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 
“How did you find this place?”
You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”
You hum, “it’s beautiful.”
Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.
“I hate him.”
Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”
“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”
Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”
You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.
“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”
You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 
Inhale, exhale. 
“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”
Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.
“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 
Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”
You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”
Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”
You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”
He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”
You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”
“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 
“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”
“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”
You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”
Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”
You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.
Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”
Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 
“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.
“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.
“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”
Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”
He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”
You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.
The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.
The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.
With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 
He feels infinite.
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Taglist <3 
@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae​ @emrysts @inspinkyring​​
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hanazuma-inactive · 3 years
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Hello, can i request with 2 characters? It's Semi and Ushijima with top male reader. Reader and Ushijima are couple. Their relationship is mostly Ushi being sub and will do anything reader told him to. Also reader a bit manipulative? Well it's easy for him to make someone do his bidding.
Reader told Ushi to touch himself inside an empty room while reader watching him and he order him not to cum without his instructions. Earlier that day, Reader told Semi to come to the room after school end and when he did appeared, he saw Ushi playing with his own body. The sight made him hard and reader whispering things that stimulate him more and usher him to mess up Ushi.
Reader enjoying the scene because he knew that Semi has feelings for Ushi and he's happy because he get a new toy to play with. After Semi cum inside Ushi, Reader pull him toward himself and pounding him hard till he collapse from the overstimulation. Also reader didn't neglect his boyfriend that's been begging him to fuck him and let him cum.
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wrapped around your fingers, (nsfw) ushijima x top!reader x semi
pronouns: he/him (FEMALE ORIENTED DNI!)
warnings: degradation, 3 some, hella manipulation, adultery kinda (?), daddy kink a little, there's also some dumbification and some random usual top reader kinks i slapped in there and publuc sex kinda me thinks
a/n: i love these types of request, dark but definitely fun to write, i lean bottom but this was still really 🛐
_____
"c'mon semi, look at your crush over there~ all riled up, touching himself, and begging to cum. won't you help him out a little?" you said pointing at ushijima, still with a vibrator inside his ass. 
"y/n, p-please stop… this isn't right and you know it."
"oh i know very well it isn't, but who the fuck is gonna come and stop me? certainly not you with that hard-on in your pants." 
you wanted to ruin ushijima more and more everyday, that's why you came up with the plan of completely breaking his mind with a particular someone else in mind. semi eita, one of the setters for the volleyball team. you knew he had a crush on ushijima ever since second year but ushi chose you over him. his feelings didn't die away and in fact it probably grew stronger than before. you wanted to take this chance to also mess with him a little, and see what kind of interesting scene will happen in front of your eyes. 
_
bored, once again. it wasn't because you weren't satisfied with the relationship you had, you just simply wanted more risk and fun in it. ushijima is a very nice boyfriend even if he can be dense sometimes. he's obedient, especially to you. whatever you ask of him he'll almost always do it without fail. whether it was in the streets or in the sheets. the two of you were just out eating ramen till the filthy idea came rushing into your head. 
after going home, you told your boyfriend to wait for you in the storage room afterschool tomorrow and answer a video chat with only his video on. you whispered some questionable instructions into his ears and handed over him a small box for him to put in his backpack later. you told him not to open the box until tomorrow and he listened like a good boy. the rest of the night went on as usual but you were excited to see what will happen tomorrow.
during class the next day you continued to remind ushijima about last night and told him to make sure not to forget about what's suppose to happen later today. while you were enjoying lunch with your boyfriend you nearly forgot to inform the other person about this. you strolled in the semi's classroom casually and walked over to his desk finding him writing the homework that hasn't even been assigned yet.
"heyyy semi, how's it going?" you said with a sly look on your face. 
"oh hey y/n, i'm doing fine, do you need something?" semi said putting his pen down. 
"i was wondering if you had time afterschool today?" 
"i'm afraid not, i have something to attend to after school today, sorry about that." 
"are you sure you can't come? i would really appreciate it if you do, it's something quite important." 
"i really wish i could but i wouldn't want to push this off either-" 
"wakatoshi is going to be there." 
the air stiffened around the classroom as you saw semi tighten his fist. you knew he couldn't resist ushijima, and you didn't want to have to pull out this card either but he left you no choice. you can and will do anything to get what you want. semi turned his head but gave you a light nod in return. that was his signal of submission. 
"i'll see you 15min after school on the balcony~" you said with a smug look and your hands inside your pocket. 
the rest of your classes were so boring you nearly fell asleep. you wanted to get outta there and just carry out the rest of your plan. you were horny and you couldn't do anything about it, the thought of just fucking ushijima on his desk came into your mind a few times but was quickly brushed away after a while.  
you quickly left your seat after class after giving your boyfriend a kiss on the forehead and a small wink. you headed over to the balcony of the school while ushijima headed over to the storage room waiting for your video call. ushijima found out what you gave him in the little box and understood exactly what you meant. he loosened himself up and put in the vibrator at a low setting just like you asked. he then dialed your phone with nothing on but his shirt. 
"y-y/n, i did what you asked, is this good enough?" ushijima said with little moans coming out of his mouth. 
"that's it good boy, such a little slut for me aren't you?" 
ushi nodded his head while attempting to push the vibrator deeper inside him. 
"remember now, no cumming until i say so, alright darling?" 
"yes sir h-hah~" 
you let out a low giggle and put your phone inside your pocket on mute to greet the grey hair male in front of you. 
"hey semi, you're here." 
"yes, where is ushijima? i need to go soon." 
"woah woah what's the rush? follow me, i'll lead you to him."
semi was confused by what you meant but followed anyways. you led him to the storage room and told him to open the door himself. semi's heart began to race, afraid of what might be behind that door. his hands shook at the handle but eventually gained the courage to open it. he closed his eyes and pushed the door to see a heavenly sight he wouldn't even have seen in his dreams. 
ushijima was on the floor wearing nothing but a t-shirt, his eyes closed, moaning your name and playing with his nipples. you ordered him to not cum without your permission so there he is. left on the floor alone, edging himself, desperate to be a good boy for you. ushijima opened his eyes after hearing the door of the storage room creak. out of panic he covered his hard cock and sat up straight, only to find one of his best friends and his boyfriend standing in front of him.
"y-y/n? semi? what are you guys doing here?!" 
"aww look at you, following my instructions, good boy." 
"y-y/n! what is this?!" 
"hey darling, i never said you could stop, did i? now go on, keep pleasuring yourself, and if you do a good job i might just let you cum~" 
"y-yes daddy…" ushijima said as he returned to the position he was in before. 
"y/n! what are you doing! w-why did you even bring me here!" semi shouted out of rage. 
"c'mon semi, look at your crush over there~ all riled up, touching himself, and begging to cum. won't you help him out a little?" you said pointing at ushijima.
"p-please stop… this isn't right and you know it."
"oh i know very well it isn't, but who the fuck is gonna come and stop me? certainly not you with that hard-on in your pants." 
you were right, semi cock couldn't have been harder in his life. seeing his crush fucking himself with a vibrator and begging like a slut. he just couldn't control himself anymore. semi took off his pants and his cock bounced out of his underwear. he didn't even bother lubing himself up, he wanted to make ushi hurt, make him suffer for choosing you over him. while all of this was happening you were simply just an audience, enjoying the show put in front of you. 
"yah fuck you, fucking slut… such a pretty little whore for y/n over there huh? fucking take my cock bitch!" semi grunted. you could hear the rage coming from his voice and that only excited you more. 
ushijima was already out of breath, busy being fucked by semi. eyes rolled back, his tongue sticking out and his soft, overstimulated dick bouncing each time semi shoved further into him. 
you walked over to semi and whispered into his ear. 
"how good does it feel? to finally get what you wanted after so long." 
"shut the fuck up, a-ah you fucking bastard!" semi said as he came into your boyfriend, grunting and moaning out of anger. 
at this point ushijima was pretty much passed out but you haven't had your fun yet. while semi was trying to catch his breath, you quietly unbuckled your belt behind him and revealed your hard cock. you grabbed semi's hands behind him quickly and shoved your dick right into his ass, with no lube whatsoever. 
"a-ah! what the fuck y/n fucking- let me go! what are you h-hah~" 
"wow…look at you semi, just like your little crush over there you are also now getting fucked like a slut huh?" you said in a teasing manner. 
"fuck off a-ah… why are you doing this!" 
"oho? tired of playing nice are we? this is simply just payback, for fucking my boyfriend dumb. in return, i'm going to do the same for you~" 
if semi actually had the strength to fight back he would. however with the giant cock head hitting his prostate over and over again it makes it hard for him to even talk. you kept whispering sweet words into semi's ears telling him how good of a slut he is, fucking someone's brains out and immediately getting the same treatment. sooner or later you fucked the male onto the floor, ass filled with cum and so broken that he can't even stand up anymore. 
and there they were, both of your playthings, wrapped around your finger.
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I'm sorry if this annoying but can I please get a little fanfic with the inumaki forget idea ? Sorry if this werd English isn't my first languag
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Not annoying at all anon, In fact I really like this idea of yours. (Also your English is pretty good so don’t worry!) Hope you like the fic!
CHARACTERS: Inumaki Toge x Female Reader
WARNINGS: Smut, Dark Content, Noncon, Yandere, Manipulation, Mind Control/ Brain Washing, Cunnilingus
Minors Do Not Interact! 
1.5k words
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It was comforting, the fluff of ashen white hair that lay on your shoulder, the morning light seeping in from behind the slat blinds cascading a bright shimmer over the expanse of the snowy tufts. The individual strands were dusting your skin feather-light, tickling against you in the sway of every meager intake and exhalation of breath escaping Toge’s mouth.
You had known Toge for years now, and although you couldn’t truly remember how you even came to know him in the first place, he had effortlessly situated himself in the spot of one of your nearest and dearest. You found that his earnest silence brought you solace, words that he could not convey through sentence instead being understood through the knowing glances and expressions you had come to share with one another, the fluency of this mutual language only strengthening with the passage of time.
Now was one of those blissful moments of comfortable, knowing quiet. domestically lounging around your apartment during a day off, lazily giggling at some meme compilation in unison while leaning against one another on the settee. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your time, this cozy sphere of amenity that you had constructed with Toge an apt repose from the outside world.
Whilst you were lost reflecting on your rosy blessings, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you felt the weight of toge’s head lift from your shoulder, turning to meet the familiar gaze of inquisitive violet eyes peering at you from behind off-white tresses.
“Are you okay, Toge?”
“Mustard Leaf.”
The response, that usually implied he was doing fine in the small dictionary of onigiri vocabulary he had come to employ.. Didn't feel genuine, to say the least. His irises were blown wide, registering your countenance as though he was trying to gleen some hidden information from your inquiring squint, when Toge began to lean further over you. You turned the front of your body to look at him directly, though you were steadily inclining your spine backwards in your perplexion at Toge’s unusual advancement.
He soon had draped his entire upper body over yours, hands reaching around your frame to press into the sofa to support himself as his face drew dangerously close to yours.
“Toge?” A heat was rising in your upper body. Sure, you and Toge were incredibly close friends.. But this was a little too much for your liking. You pressed your palms against the jut of his shoulders and pushed slightly, though with no true force. Blushing, you faced away from him, trying to announce your discomfort at his invasive approach. “T-toge.. This is a bit too-”
“Don’t move.”
And sure enough, compelled by some otherworldly force to entertain the command, you had stopped moving in your tracks. It didn’t take long for you to figure Toge had used his technique. Like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, your body froze statuesque while conflicting eyes beamed alive, frantically searching for the reasoning behind the cruel fate that was racing towards you.
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach at the sight of his lips pulled tight, his usually bright irises murky with shadows of deception. Something awful was afoot. His deadpan look in conjunction with the preceding events told you this was no prank, swiftly realising that your trust in him had been irredeemably breached to the point of fear at what was coming next. Your body twitched as you strained under the spell that had been cast on you, helpless to the plummeting feeling of the safe structure of friendship you had built with Toge coming crumbling down around you.
Your fears were proven genuine when Toge’s hand began reaching forward, coming to rest on the curve of your hip. You tried to communicate with your eyes, begging for him to stop and to just think about what he was doing, but he paid no heed to it. In fact it seemed like he was ignoring your glare, focused on the task that lay at his palms. He began deftly inching your bottoms down over your pelvis, panties and all coming to a halt over your thighs, just above your kneecaps.
It was then that he shot you a glance of what seemed like sorrowfulness, as if he was fully aware he was enacting something cruel but thought it necessary. Perhaps like how a farmer would look at lame animal before putting it to rest. 
Still, you were broken away from the horrid thoughts and back into a harsher reality when Toge had begun ripping the aforementioned cloth even further down your legs until they reached your calves. Shoving his hands between your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressed forcefully against the flesh and separated the limbs till they spread wide. You were completely exposed, the open air cutting a chill against your privates.
He traced his fingertips over your slit, with whatever wet, however slight gathered up in it’s trailing wake. He looked you in your eyes when he brought the digits to your clit, as if looking for a reaction when he began grinding his forefingers against the sensitive nub. Unable to do so much as flinch away from the offensive touch, you mentally grit your teeth as you felt that aching bundle of nerves scream against the assault. It felt painful, at first. You were so unprepared for the sudden encroachment on your most sensitive parts, It made you want to recoil in on yourself completely, though there was nought you could do in protest.
Toge began occasionally lowering his fingers to reach directly into your core, drawing out the little slick you were producing to mercifully rub it over your clit. The lubrication meant his ministrations were less painfully direct, his motions transforming into a light flutter that felt traitorously gratifying, an unwarranted heat beginning to pool in your stomach. Your body was disobediently reacting to his touches with craving, and it made you want to hide away forever but unfortunately you were rendered completely unable to escape the explicit display you were being forced to partake in. 
You felt his warm breath exhale humid air over your cunt, when you noticed from your frozen position that you couldn’t see Toge’s face any more, only the top of his alpine locks as he lowered himself further over your pulsing heat.
You knew what was coming, but you still inwardly lurched with shock at the swiping of that lithe muscle over your aching bundle. The feeling made you throb with hypersensitivity, the combination of the attention that area had received earlier now with the sudden sensation of Toge’s wet mouth lapping at you desperately causing your entire pussy to twitch around his tongue in a chase for release.
Dragging and dipping his emblazoned tongue over and between your sopping folds, he came to plant his mouth directly over your clit. He sucked over it with such vigor his cheeks completely hollowed, rolling your nub between his lips whilst deft fingers aided in your pleasure as he continued to pump them in and out of the sticky apex of your crotch. 
He worked at you for some time, steady in the intensity of his applications. It wasn’t long before the sensations grew too much, pussy clenching around his fingers as you reached a climax, flood gates swinging open as you gushed helplessly over his face.
He stayed where he was for a second, before rising. When his pale face came into view, you took in the sight of your own slick washing trails down his chin, the purple tattoos it overlay on his cheek glistening prismatic in the light the sun cast over it. He looked wild, salivating at the maw, sparkling amethysts settling an intense gaze into your own eyes which were vacantly still trying to work through the thralls of your orgasm.
Yet, fear sparked them alert with dread when you saw his mouth drop open to speak once again.
“Forget.”
Even in that split second of recognition you had before your memories had been erased for (unbeknownst to you,) the umpteenth time, it was enough for an intensely visceral stream of consciousness to flood your thoughts. You realised intuitively Toge was never really the person you thought he was, and you wondered how many times you had been used like this. How much had happened, how much had you been subject to by his cursed technique. Just how much was real in that domestic setting that you had been experiencing before it all came crashing down like this.
***
If only you knew just how much of your true self had slipped away. With your hands wrapped around his cock once more, The sunset and rise beginning to melt away at the edges into a haze of warm gradients was just a pretty sight to you, the concept of time becoming irrelevant to you as you settled into your life as an ignorant hostage.
Extra Notes:
Yeah so this kinda became a fucked up version of 50 first dates.. although now that I think about it I guess 50 first dates is pretty fucked up? Also god writing a character who hardly speaks is so hard in fic format;; I guess enjoy the challenge though
746 notes · View notes
joyfulhopelox · 3 years
Text
The Weasel and The Serpent
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Summary: When Yoongi, a halfblood, enters Hogwarts he lies about being a pureblood and is welcomed into the elite of the Slytherin House. Yoongi spends the whole of his school life upholding this lie, terrified of being exposed. Until one day, Jimin's cousin, the loud and rambunctious Y/N enters his life and gradually breaks down the walls that he had tried so hard to build. Can the weasel and the serpent learn to co-exist?
Pairing: Slytherin!Yoongi x reader (Hogwarts!au)
Genre: fluff, angst
Warnings: light swearing
Word count: 13.2k
Rating: pg
A/N: Welcome to the first instalment of the Hogwarts for @homeofbangtan collab!
I want to thank everyone in the collab for being amazing and patient and incredibly lovely! @mochi-molala for being the catalyst of this fic, @min-yoon-kween for being an amazing support and beta reader and @ttaetae for this amazing banner. @delacyrose224 @alpacaparkaseok @joheunsaram @sunshinejunghoseokie @ggukcangetit for being an amazing squad!
Copyrights @joyfulhopelox
As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3
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Who would have thought you would end up here? Knees bruised on the cold wet tiles, bent over, heartbroken and desperate. If at the beginning of the year someone would have said you’d be in this position, you would’ve laughed at them. But there you were, on your knees, watching helplessly, as the person that had become your everything suffering on the wet bathroom floor. The mournful sobs wrecking his body echoed through you, rendering you speechless. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Yoongi’s sobs you were witnessing, you would’ve thought it was Moaning Myrtle doing her usual rounds in the bathroom.
You willed yourself to move. The sound of your robes trailing through the murky water were muffled by the anguished cries and heart wrenching sobs. You felt powerless and it scared you. The feeling gripped at your heart tighter and tighter until you felt like you could not breathe.
How ironic is it, you thought, that when you first met him you were in the exact same position that he was in now. Yet, at the time, he knew exactly what to tell you, as if you’d been friends for a long time. This trait he possessed; the ability to read someone so well and yet be so detached from everyone, had made him popular in your year.
Everyone liked Yoongi, his aloof personality a complete contrast from his soft looks. With his coal black hair and pale white skin a contradiction to his soft lips and plump cheeks, it was hard to not be intrigued by him. Yet, for some reason you chose to keep him at an arm’s length. He became your cousin’s friend quite quickly. It was Park’s gift; having the ability to make friends and break hearts left and right. However, being the rising star of the Slytherin house, he made enemies just as quickly. But the relationship between him and Yoongi developed so quickly, you didn’t even see it coming. One day Jimin was loitering around the corridors being his dramatic self with only Taehyung to keep him in check. Next you run into him and Taehyung and Yoongi. They were whispering secretively to each other and you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to intervene.
“Oi, Cocky Park, why are you acting like a bunch of gossip girls?” you shouted at him across the corridor. The three of them jumped apart in surprise and glanced at you, each face looking similar to a kid’s having been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Satisfied at the reaction you got, you sauntered over to them.
“So, what’s the deal?” your grin intensified when Jimin’s flustered face morphed into an annoyed one. It meant you had done your job. You were cousins on your father’s side, but in reality you acted more like siblings. You grew up together, always around each other, your father and his attending meetings together. So of course in true sibling fashion, it was necessary to rile up the other.
Taehyung glanced at the both of you, knowing that if he did not intervene there would be bloodshed. “Hey, Y/N, uhhhh, we were just talking” he tried to distract you from the situation at hand. You tapped your foot impatiently, an eyebrow raised unimpressed and urged him to continue. “About what?”
Before Taehyung could say anything, Jimin stepped up, “Nothing that concerns you lesser Park, so run along to your clique” he smirks at you, his hand gesture dismissing you. You huff in annoyance.
“Cocky Park!” You warn glaring at him stepping closer to his frame. He was by no means tall, only a few inches taller than you, and you liked to remind him of that every single day knowing that it drove him up the wall. “I’ll tell mother about that one time you set the family portrait on fire just because-” Jimin instantly covered your mouth, not wanting to be exposed in front of his friends like that.
“Ok ok ok, enough,” He pleaded, your laugh muffled and your eyes displaying the satisfaction you felt at his distress. You had won this battle and you savoured every moment of it. “Take a chill pill J-Park.” Noticing the third person next to the double trouble of the Slytherin house you paused. “Oh, new friends?” You pointed towards the silent man behind them. During the whole interaction between the three of you he hadn’t said anything, his dark eyes meticulously observing the scene before him.
You decided it was rude of you to not introduce yourself. You may have a loud personality and be opinionated to the point of aggression sometimes but you couldn’t forget the etiquette that your parents instilled in you. Especially in front of a fellow Slytherin, so with a confident grin you stepped around the two clowns of the house and extended your hand out.
“I’m Y/N.” The stranger looked wearily at your hand before hesitantly extending his. You don’t wait for his hand to reach yours, grabbing it mid rise and waiting for him to tell you his name. Only for a drawn out silence to ensue. You give his cold hand a small encouraging squeeze, urging him to say something. Noticing the shift in atmosphere Jimin stepped up next to you grabbing your forearm.
“Y/N, Yoongi. Yoongi, Y/N” he quickly said whilst pulling your hand away from the hold. You eye your cousin suspiciously but decide to not say anything. Instead you look at Yoongi and offer him what you hope is a friendly smile. “ Nice to meet you Yoongi. Well I have to go back now, I have practice” you turn on your heels prepared to leave. But before you could rush off you stop abruptly as if you’ve remembered something. Turning back, you point to Yoongi’s hands, making the boy take a small step back at your abruptness. “Make sure to wear gloves Yoongi, it may still be autumn but the castle is cold and your hands are freezing.” With a wink you then turn your attention towards Jimin, pointing threateningly at him.
“And you, you better not be late for practice, Outdated Park. We can’t afford to lose in front of Jeon again so get your ass on the pitch on time or I'll tell Sunny about your massive-“ Jimin’s cheeks turned red instantly and he almost shoves you down the corridor desperate to not let you finish that sentence.
“I get it, now move your troublesome ass out of here,” he pleaded. Laughing you wave at the three of them one more time before you rush down the corridor to meet up with the rest of the Quidditch team.
That was the first time you saw Yoongi, not as tragic as the second time; where he stumbled upon you in a dimly lit corridor. You took refuge there after receiving an unsettling letter from your parents. Said letter, now suspiciously damp, dangled from your hands when he found you. Even though your face showed no sign of distress, if there was someone who could read emotions well it would’ve been apparent. Yoongi was that someone.
He approached you silently, cautiously. As if he was afraid his presence would set off the feelings you were trying so hard to suppress. He observed your blank face for a second, his face not giving away any of his thoughts. You knew he was there and yet, you did not move. You couldn’t, the fear and pain gripping at your heart making you immobile. The letter you had just read replayed in your mind constantly.
‘Our daughter,
As this year happens to be the last year of your studies, we have decided that it is time for us to think about your future. Your father and I have decided that once you have finished your exams you shall be coming back home to Murkwood Manor where you will be spending the summer attending galas thrown by esteemed families. We are pleased to have come to the conclusion that for your sake and progress into the pureblood society, a convenient marriage is the best option and what better place to find such connections than there?
We hope that you can see how much we are thinking about you and understand our worries about your future.
Your everloving parents.’
You tried to forget the words staining the white paper, but it proved to be difficult. You knew the day would come, you and Jimin having been primed for this since you were children. Unlike Jimin, who would have more freedom of choice as he was to inherit his parents’ manor, you were doomed to enter an arranged marriage. As a pureblood it had always been your duty. Before you understood what that meant, as a romantic, you used to be excited at that prospect. Your brain came up with scenarios similar to ones in books about wizards in arranged marriages and living happily ever after.
Once you grew up, the excitement morphed into apprehension. The prospect of being tied to someone you did not willingly choose was daunting. To receive a letter informing you of your imminent fate crushed you.
Yoongi let out a soft breath, the sound loud enough to break the silence between the two of you. You knew you had to acknowledge him and yet, you could not bring yourself to. You barely knew each other, but as soon as he crouched next to your slumped form, a hesitant hand reaching out for yours the dam broke. You didn’t know or care if his touch was the push you needed or if the tumultuous feelings running through you became too much. You let yourself weep, not caring about the man tightening his grip on your hand witnessing it.
Normally your mother’s voice would be ringing in your head, telling you that your behaviour was unladylike, that someone of your status should not act like this. But the cold touch enveloping your trembling hand offered you the comfort you needed to let go.
Though only a few minutes had passed they felt like an eternity to you, your violent sobs dissolving into sniffles, too tired to carry on. Unknowingly, your hand sought out the reassurance of Yoongi’s hand, your fingers now intertwined. He let you cry it out, not saying a word, but his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. Had he not been an expert at hiding his feelings, you would have been able to see the sadness he felt displayed across his face. He could not fathom why you would be sitting on the stone cold ground, knees drawn to your chest, shivering and looking so...broken.
When your sniffles ceased you looked up at him, your face red and blotchy from crying. He didn’t ask, his understanding eyes only watched you as you tried to gather your thoughts. He didn’t ask and yet, you couldn’t help but tell him. Tell him of the fate that waited for you once you graduated. There was something about the way he looked at you, a comfort you found in his gentle gaze that you couldn’t help yourself. Hiccuping you let it all spill out, his grasp on your hands becoming your strength to carry on.
“Your parents don’t define who you are, you define who you are. Whatever you are feeling, going through and your future, your parents will not be with you forever. And if you spend most of your time pleasing them, when they are gone you will start resenting everything that you have become.”
With that Yoongi wordlessy let go of your hand and slipped out of the bathroom leaving you with a tear stained grubby face slumped on the bathroom floor.
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For a few days after that you tried avoiding Yoongi like the plague. Too embarrassed at your outburst you found yourself leaving the Great Hall when he would enter, turning your head the other way when you happened to make eye contact in class and avoiding any conversation that brought him up. If anyone noticed your odd behaviour towards him they did not say a word. He didn’t try to approach you, and no one in your House mentioned anything about it, and so after that first week you relaxed. Your cousin, however, did notice and when he tried to approach you about it you dismissed it as not having enough free time with the Quidditch game around the corner.
“Y/N, you do know I am on the same team as you right?” Jimin’s use of your full name indicated he was serious about the conversation. Sighing your shoulders slumped, you were feeling tired of hiding around. After letting it all out in front of Yoongi, it felt like all your body wanted to do was shout out to the world how exhausted you were of being a member of a pureblood family. No one would understand you better than Jimin would.
“I’m just tired, Chim.” Jimin faltered, his seriousness melted into worry at the sound of your voice. You sounded meek, the exhaustion clear on your face. Jimin was never one for emotional display, but he was your cousin, he was your family, he was like your brother. He offered you the comfort that you sought, placing his arms around you. You didn’t wait for him to speak, the unasked question hanging above you like the ghosts roaming around the castle.
“I’m getting married.” At your words you felt Jimin stiffen. He knew what you were talking about, it was a long tradition in pureblood families. Arranged marriages were not uncommon, if only to keep the bloodline pure; so it was only a matter of time before this happened to you as well. He was lucky, as the male of the family, he had more freedom than you but that also didn’t mean he could marry just anyone. “Who?” Was all he asked and you took a moment to recollect yourself, wondering if the mention of the rival School in the tournament would be a bad idea. “Who, Y/N?”
You stepped away from him, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Someone from Beauxbatons. I don’t even know his face. Just his name. And I am supposed to live the rest of my life with this person.” You felt the tears gather in your eyes but you knew you couldn’t cry. Even if it was just Jimin, the rest of the courtyard was completely void of students, your pride stopped you from letting all your emotions flow. Yoongi caught you at your most vulnerable and since that day you swore to yourself you would never let it happen again. If anyone were to witness it and your parents to get wind of it, you would be reprimanded, possibly even punished.
Jimin felt the shift in you, your vulnerable demeanour instantly covered up by a cold emotionless wall. He tried to say something, anything to prevent that shift but he couldn’t bring himself to. He understood why you would do that; as a pureblood the expectation to be impeccable was high, and the slightest slip would end in punishment. Not wanting to push you towards an emotional breakdown he did what he normally did best and distracted you from your misery. Gripping your shoulders he smirked at you, “come on Park 2.0, we need to get on that pitch today and win.”
The sight of the Quidditch pitch along with your peers cheering and chanting, instantly calmed you. This was your home, on your broom, ready to kick some ass. Today was the game against the Gryffindor team and the contrast between the green of your House and the red of Gryffindor House formed an enchanting colour palette. The Team Captain was yelling instructions left and right, discussing the strategy once more but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be up in the air and hit a few Bludgeons to vent your frustrations out. As soon as your Team is given the go ahead you kick off onto your broom. The feel of the air brushing your face and the sound of your teammates yelling encouragement to each other giving you the adrenaline that you needed to get your head in the game.
The chants fuelled you, dodging a Bludger here, slamming your bat into it, sending it into the direction of a chaser, your head never left the game. The dynamics of the group, the teamwork, they all made you proud to be part of the team. From time to time, your eyes would wander towards the bleachers, taking in the crowd. Your fellow Slytherins were cheering as loudly as they could, chanting everyone’s name. You rolled your eyes, of course the loudest yells would come from the Gryffindor side. Kim Seokjin and Jeon Jungkook were favourites and so, their names would be on every lion’s lips. A quick break from the referee allowed you to catch your breath, high fiving with your fellow beater. You were crushing this. Taking in a deep gulp of air to calm down your heartbeat you scanned the crowd once again, only to make eye contact with a dark haired Slytherin who seemed to be watching you intently. You smiled hesitantly, confused at his presence, Yoongi had never been the one to watch the Quidditch games, but his presence gave you confidence that everything would be alright.
The game wasn’t going in your favour, Gryffindor had a good chance at winning, everyone on the edge of their seats for the end of the match. Suddenly you saw Jimin and Jungkook diving towards the ground, neck to neck and you knew that they'd spotted the Snitch. Breath caught in your throat, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Jimin turns at the last minute, rising back up leaving Jungkook behind. In his hand he held the Snitch. The triumphant yell of the crowd switches from the Slytherin crowd towards the Gryffindor team and you lower your head dejected. Jimin may have caught the Snitch, but Gryffindor House had already won enough points to win the game without it. Sighing you turned towards your team, their hopelessness could be felt throughout the pitch. It wasn’t their fault, they’d played a good game, so in an attempt to cheer them up you started clapping. Soon, the crowd all caught onto what you were doing and joined in and quickly, what could have turned into a disastrous end for the team morale ended up quite the opposite. You turned yourself towards the crowd, the smile on your face widening at the sight of your fellow Slytherins cheering for you. In that moment you swore you didn’t look through the crowd for a particular person, but your eyes found his and your grin widened. Yoongi was clapping along with everyone else, his reassuring gaze never leaving yours. Suddenly you didn’t feel like you lost anymore, instead, you felt like a winner.
Under normal circumstances, the days after the game were the hardest to endure. This time however, the atmosphere felt lighter than even before the match. After the game ended and the team went back to change out of their uniform, your Team Captain held a speech about pride and defeat. That, along with the cheers from the crowd, lessened the sting of the loss and you promised yourselves that you will do better for the next one. However, classes and your professors waited for no one. With only a few weeks left until Christmas break the number of assignments kept rising, and the pressure of your N.E.W.Ts looming above your head forced you to spend every possible waking moment inside the library, your head stuck in a book. Despite being a Slytherin and not a Ravenclaw, you did enjoy studying. You were never alone whilst in there, especially now that Jimin and that Hufflepuff were spending more and more time in the library together. You got first hand experience of their budding relationship. Both of them being very much interested, yet both of them being very much oblivious.
It was during one of those days in the library when Yoongi approached you. The library was already full with students trying to cram a last minute essay. You were no better, your Potions essay due that afternoon, you tried to get as much done as possible. Writing about the properties of Amortentia was not a pleasant experience. Scribbling furiously, you bit your lip in concentration, not even noticing the silent dark haired man that sat down in front of you.
“You’re going to break your quill if you carry on writing like that.” His remark made you jump out of your skin, dropping your quill to the ground and knocking your ink over the sides of the table in the process. “Ah, shit.” You muttered as you tried to blot your parchment with your robes. Yoongi jumped out of the seat, hurrying to help you salvage your work, muttering his apologies to you incessantly. “It’s okay, no problem.” You smiled at him, you were not really upset, you knew your essay could be done better and maybe a restart is what you needed. “You actually did me a favour.” Confused, Yoongi glanced at your paper. “Isn’t it due today?” He motioned towards how much you’ve written, “and that looks like a lot of research to me.” Waving him off you sat back down and got out another piece of parchment.
“It wasn’t that good to begin with. Potions is not my strongest suit so I could probably do with rewriting it. There’s only so much, ‘and boom they fall in love’ that you can describe.” You laughed at Yoongi’s expression. He looked offended at your statement, and you took the time to admire his expressions. Never one to express too many feelings, at least not in your presence, it felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn’t help but wonder what caused the change in behaviour. “Wait, a Slytherin, not good at Potions?” He mock gasped at you and you laughed. He looked a lot younger, freer this way and you couldn’t help but take in this carefree Yoongi. As you stared at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled; his wide grin making his round cheeks puff out, you felt your heart speed up, and butterflies start fluttering in your stomach. “I know right?!” You carried on with his joke, not wanting this lighthearted atmosphere to end. “Appalling.” He nodded trying to look serious. You tried to hold in your laugh but when your eyes met, you couldn’t stop yourselves and burst out laughing.
“Shhhhhh.” The angry librarian loomed over the both of you and you bowed your heads in apology still trying to stifle your laughter. “Well, that is that… now you know my darkest secret.” So absorbed in getting your books together, you didn’t notice the way Yoongi stiffened. “I am bad at Potions, and it’s my final year and there is no way I can do anything about it now.” When you carried on, Yoongi relaxed a small smile thrown into your direction. “Would….you don’t have to, but would you like some help? I may not be the best….” You perked up instantly as soon as he said that, not even letting him finish you quickly grabbed his hand and nodded. “Nonsense. You are one of the best in our year!” You noticed the slight redness that crept up Yoongi’s cheeks and you smirked. “And I heard that you are going to be interning for the Auror Office at the end of school! I would be honoured if you helped me!” Sensing his hesitation, you paused for a second, trying to think of a way to make him feel more comfortable about it when an idea suddenly hit you. “How about an exchange?” You looked at him hopefully, his eyes roaming over your face trying to understand what you were proposing. “As in, is there anything that you may need help with?” You clarified and Yoongi nodded, finally understanding what you meant. He didn’t reply for a while and you started to get uncomfortable under his gaze. Shifting uneasily in your seat you cleared your throat, “of course, you don’t have to, I just thought it may make things a lot fairer if-”
“Defence” Yoongi interrupted abruptly. You stared at him for a second before your baffled expression turned into a smile. “Deal.” You took the deal, even though you knew very well that Yoongi was more than good at the subject, having managed to be one of the few people who could produce a Patronus in class. Deciding not to mention having observed his wispy Weasel Patronus almost starting to attack your Serpent one, you nodded at him extending your hand to seal the deal. Startled, Yoongi took a glance at your hand before hesitantly grabbing it. His warm hand enveloped yours and you gripped it, immediately finding comfort in his warm grip. Staring at each other for a second, the silence that settled over you wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a remnant of something that felt overlooked, as if there was something left unsaid between the two of you. Yoongi opened his mouth and your breath caught in your throat.
“Oi, Park!” Your cousin’s voice broke the comfortable bubble that you and Yoongi were in and you immediately dropped your hand on the table, pretending nothing had happened. You knew Jimin, and you knew he would not let you live it down if he noticed the position you and his friend were in. You schooled your face in a sneer and turned towards your obnoxious family member. “What Outdated Park?” You sneered at him, annoyed, then settled your eyes on the person hiding behind him. Sunny looked uncomfortable, so to ease the tension you smiled at her. It wasn’t that you didn’t like her, yet, you would not go out of your way to get to know her. “Are you ready for the Yule Ball?” Jimin airly said, dropping his arm over Sunny’s shoulder in such a casual way you could tell it was something he did often. At the thought of the Yule Ball, your mood instantly soured. Jimin knew there was no way you were excited about it, you glanced at Yoongi, who was doing his best to look at anyone but you. “Uhm, yeah, I guess.” You shrugged, the disappointment in our voice quite obvious.Yoongi chanced a glance at you, and you smiled sadly at him. “We will have to wait and see.” You broke eye contact, turning around to look back at Jimin, whose sympathetic eyes took in the interaction between you and his friend.
Yoongi felt his heart drop and his hand twitched. The sadness that he could read in your eyes made him want to grab your hand again, to reassure you, yet he stopped himself. He was nothing for you, and he could never be something. He would just stay as a friend and tutor, even though all he wanted to do was ask you to be his partner for the dance.
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Staring at yourself in the mirror you took a deep breath in, your hands twitched at your sides. You were trying hard to not wipe them on your ball gown, your parents would kill you if you appeared less than perfect in front of anyone. Yoongi’s words rang loud and clear in your head. Refusing to acknowledge the truth of his statement you focused on your appearance once again. Tonight, you would be meeting your fiance officially - the thought as appealing as that one time you fell off the broom during the match against the Gryffindor team. You threw one more glance at yourself in the mirror before you acknowledged your friends calling your name.
“Coming! Wands out your asses.” You walk out of the dormitory into the Common Room. The dark atmosphere broken by the languid emerald flames coming from the fireplace, enhancing your satin dress. The lights caught in the folds of it giving it the fluidity of a crystal clear lake, the silver diamond like colour reflecting the green sheen cast around the room.
“Y/N, you have outdone yourself. Your partner is extremely lucky.” Your heart sped up at the thought of having to face your supposed arranged marriage partner. After you received your letter and had your emotional slip-up, you’d pushed the thought of your future fiance to the back of your brain. However, what you hadn’t realised was that with the Tournament happening at Hogwarts this year, you were going to meet your future husband sooner than intended. A pureblood from Beauxbatons; he was amongst the students chosen to be part of the visiting party. So, it didn’t surprise you when one afternoon, during your study session with your friends, he approached you. After he introduced himself, he immediately asked you to be his partner for the Yule Ball. No one else had dared to ask you to the Ball. Mouth agape you struggled to respond to him, knowing full well you couldn’t refuse, when you spotted Jimin and Yoongi making their way towards you.
“Hey Annoying Park.” Jimin greeted you, but at the sight of your discombobulated expression his face darkened, and he glanced between you and the Beauxbatons guy. “Who are you?” He narrows his eyes at the stranger and you would’ve laughed at his crassness if not for the conflicted feelings coursing through you. A small cough behind Jimin caught your attention and your eyes made contact with Yoongi’s. He shifted under your gaze as if uncomfortable and a sudden rush of embarrassment came over you. There was no reason to be ashamed of the situation you were in. Your future fiance had asked you to a ball, it was a perfectly normal situation. Nonetheless, the thought of Yoongi witnessing it made you squirm.
The tension was so thick you felt as if you were trapped in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The Beauxbatons student took a step forwards, placing himself in front of you in a protective manner. “Luc Millefeuille the Third.” He announced proudly, puffing his chest. Yoongi stiffened drastically at the name. He had heard it before, in newspapers. His great grandfather, the famous patissiere, was known for the serial mass poisoning of a group of muggles. The thought of you being chained to such a name made his skin crawl. If Jimin recognised the name he didn’t show it, instead he eyed the male with a steel gaze. “Nice to meet you.” Glancing at you he motioned with his head. “Red, we have practice to go to.” Taking the chance to get out of the situation you mumbled a goodbye to Luc before you hurried after Jimin.
In the end, Luc cornered you once more and you had no choice but to agree. Your parents were bound to have some harsh words for you if they found out you refused him. You knew of the family name, Jimin had made you aware of it. Despite your inherited indifference towards muggles, the thought of mass murder disgusted you. You didn’t know what your parents were planning and you couldn’t find out as your letters home had not been replied to.
“Y/N, are you ready?” You snapped out of your reverie. Turning to look at your friends, your smile grim, you nodded at them. “Yes, I guess so.” Patting your skirts once more you prepared to exit the dungeons just as the entrance opened, revealing a dashing Yoongi dressed in black robes, with a dark green sash around his torso. You faltered as you made eye contact with him, his eyes trailed down your form, darkening to the colour of tar. You felt yourself flush under his gaze, a slight tingle underneath your skin making you shift in discomfort. You couldn’t break eye contact with him even as your friends greeted him, his shocked gaze keeping you in place. “Y/N.” He whispered, taking a step towards you, you’re prepared to reach out to him when your sight is cut off by the abrupt entrance of the blonde Frenchman who barged past Yoongi.
“Y/N. You look delicious.” He smirked at you and you had to fight the urge to grimace. Grabbing your hand forcefully he doesn’t even acknowledge Yoongi as he dragged you out of the Common Room. Having to pick up your pace so that you didn’t trip over your dress, you looked back, your desperate eyes making contact with Yoongi’s dark ones once more. However, he’s gone from your sight the next second as Luc turned the corner.
Not being part of the Champions, the two of you had to wait near the entrance to the Great Hall, so you took your time observing the Christmas decorations that littered the gradious hall. The theme was a dark blue, with stars sparkling above your heads bathing the dance floor in an ethereal glow. You spotted Jimin and Sunny waiting to the side for the signal to start the dance. You could tell she was nervous by the way she gripped at Jimin’s robes, whispering animatedly in his ear. You laughed to yourself, you didn’t know her very well and you weren’t her biggest fan per se, but their relationship was adorable. Both of them were so oblivious to the other it was almost endearing if not borderline annoying.
Luc’s grip on you hasn’t softened since you entered the Grand Hall, it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. You stepped to the side as you tried to get him to loosen his hold on you. When you were unsuccessful, you stomped your foot near his. “Let go.” You warned him through gritted teeth. Not only did he ignore you, but he tightened his grip on your arm as he dragged you forwards towards the rink. You didn’t even notice that the Champions had finished with their first dance, and now it was open to everyone to join in. You knew you’d regret it later, as you missed the opportunity to witness your cousin’s marvelous dancing with his clumsy partner, but you had more pressing matters to sort out. Your partner pulled you onto the dance floor and with a sneer he glanced at you, “I hope you know how to dance, I don’t want to be embarrassed.” You bit back a remark, you knew you couldn’t cause a scene in the middle of so many people, no matter how loud you normally were. Instead of answering you tighten your grip on his shoulder, your eyes coldly staring past him.
As you glided in a waltz across the floor you took your time scanning the room, taking in all the couples, the decorations and most importantly, your eyes were searching for the sole person you wanted to see that night. You spotted him in a corner near a table, his eyes already on you. The intensity with which he was watching you made a shiver run down your spine. This time, it didn’t feel uncomfortable, on the contrary Yoongi’s gaze on you felt reassuring. The whole dance you kept your gazes locked on each other, Yoongi not even glancing away as his partner got pulled from him for a dance. Even though you were apart, and you were dancing with the man meant to be your husband, it felt like it was just you and Yoongi in the room.
You stepped away from Luc as soon as the dance ended. Muttering an excuse about needing refreshments you fought the urge to gag when instead of offering to get them for you, he burdened you with his own refreshments. Taking any excuse that you could to get away from him you nodded and hurriedly made your way towards the tables where Jimin greeted you.
“You could’ve done worse.” His mocking tone irked you and you resisted the urge to kick him in the shin. Instead you angrily grabbed a glass of mead and downed half of it in one go. “Woah there, slow down.” Jimin backed away from you. “If you tell me it’s unladylike Park, I swear on Peeve’s dung bombs you and Sunny will not have any children.” You grumbled under your breath at him, not caring that said girl was also next to him, both their faces now beet red. “I am close to murdering him.” You sighed, the drink and reprieve you had from your French fiancee finally calming you down. “Oh Merlin’s beard, here he comes.” You spotted Luc making his way through the crowd with a pompous stride, heading straight towards you. Grabbing Jimin by his robes in a desperate attempt to hide, you didn’t notice the other man that reached you before your fiance could. With a yelp, you stumbled straight into Yoongi’s chest, his hands wrapping around your waist in an attempt to steady you. “You’re good.” He whispered in your ear. Your stomach clenched at his low voice and his breath hitting the sensitive shell of your ear. Mumbling a thanks you stepped away from him, your eyes never leaving his. You could feel your heart speeding up and you had to resist the urge to grab onto him for support once more.
“Y/N, where are the drinks?” Luc’s voice broke you out of your daze, and you turned away from Yoongi to face him. “I- uh- forgot.” You mumbled causing the Frenchman to scoff at you, a look of pure disgust on his face. “I can’t believe my wife is this stupid.” He spat at you. You could feel your blood boiling in anger, but before you could reply Jimin stepped in front of you. “She is not your wife and she is definitely not stupid.” You could hear the anger in his voice. Luc sized him up, knowing that he couldn’t have an argument with the head of the Park family, that would ruin any chances. Instead he sneered at your cousin whilst grabbing your arm tightly. “Come on.” He glared at you, but having had enough you stood your ground trying to pry your arm out of his grip. “Let me go.” You said through gritted teeth, you were close to hexing his ass and no one would have been able to stop you. Pulling at you roughly once more trying to get you away from your friends, he suddenly tripped over his robes. You yelped feeling yourself start to fall down along with him, when a hand grabbed you and pulled you towards a familiar chest. In the corner of your eyes you noticed a wand being placed back into the black robes that Yoongi was wearing.
“What happened?” Luc looked around confused, picking himself off the floor and you realised straight away what Yoongi had done. “Your robe’s dirty.” Yoongi pointed out with a monotonous voice, and you fought back a laugh. You could see the change in Luc’s eyes, the anger making him explode. With a flurry of curses thrown around in French, he stormed out of the Great Hall. You stared after him in silence for a second before you couldn’t help it anymore and you burst out laughing. “Oh, wow. Who would have thought?” Jimin finally calmed down enough to speak. “Now if you’d excuse us, Sunny needs to polish her dancing skills.” Saying that he grabbed said girl by the arm and led her towards the dance floor. Still chuckling to yourself you turned towards Yoongi, a sparkle in your eyes that made his heart burst with warmth.
“Confundus eh? Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you for that.” You smiled kindly at him, waiting for a response. But when he silently extended his hand towards you, all you felt was the blood rushing to your head, making you dizzy. “You could dance with me.” His tone was calm, not once giving away the nervousness that he felt beneath his skin. You didn’t even hesitate, you placed your hands in his. He led you towards the dance floor, wrapping his arm around your waist, whilst you daintily placed your hand on his shoulder. As you slowly started to glide along the dancefloor between the couples, your eyes locked onto his. The charmed stars twinkling above you, your heart fluttered in hope.
Needless to say, Christmas holidays came and went, your trip home cut short by your desire to be away from your obnoxious family, and the excitement of continuing your studies alongside Yoongi. With his help, you started making progress with your Potions, and you would have long chats about anything and everything during the hours you were meant to be studying for Defence. Yoongi felt happy, it felt like everything was finally going right. Until that one fateful day when a curse and a fight would change everything for him. He never thought that by being himself just once in his life, would cost everything he had managed to build over the past seven years at the school.
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Yoongi’s heart dropped. He’d been found out. He could tell just by looking at everyone’s reaction. The friends he’d managed to make, had found out about his blood status. If not certain, they are suspecting him now. Suddenly, flashbacks of his father degrading him- calling him a dirty blood traitor, whilst making sure the skin of his wrist was raw and blistery, plagued his mind. His thoughts filled with his father’s harsh words, accompanied by his mother’s cries; the symphony of Yoongi’s life. He stood frozen on the spot, the adrenaline coursing through his veins causing him to enter the fight or flight mode. His wide eyes took in the faces of the people that have always supported him for the past few years he’s been at Hogwarts.
But then again, could Yoongi even call these people friends? Could he say they have always supported him? He glanced at Jimin.
Jimin, the person whom he thought was a stuck up pureblood. The person who approached him, offered him not only a seat at the Slytherin table, but also a group to belong in. He could vividly recall the day he got put into his house. He was terrified when the Sorting Hat sealed his fate with a simple holler- “SLYTHERIN!” Yoongi was aware of the house's reputation and fame. Full of purebloods, prejudice and pride; his mother had warned him to stay away from them. But how could he, now that he was one of them? In a split moment, he decided then and there that he would not allow anyone know about his status, he would take it to his grave if he had to. So with a strengthened resolve he created Slytherin Yoongi. Gone was the boy who would openly smile until his cheeks hurt, the boy who dreamt of happy endings, the boy who would innocently sit by the lake, his eyes following the murtlaps chasing each other. In his stead, a coldness settled over him. He knew that in order to make it he had to avoid being too close to anyone. Becoming friends with people would only make it harder for him to hide who he was. So he hid in the shadows on his own, keeping himself away from activities that would force him to interact with people more than necessary.
Until Jimin came along. Under the pureblood facade, Jimin was charismatic and flirtatious with everyone and that made him very popular amongst his fellow Slytherins. Yoongi stood no chance against his charms, and when one day he felt himself pulled down, to sit with the most popular Slytherin boy and his best friend he did not know what to make of it.
“You look terrified,” Jimin laughed at Yoongi’s expression.
Being aloof and stiff with most of his peers made Yoongi very good at reading people. However, there was one person he could not read at all, and that was himself. Conflicted most of the time, the battle between the soft hearted boy who would try his best to make everyone happy and the new indifferent one mirrored in his eyes. Jimin was not stupid by any means, Yoongi found that out along the way. The internal battle that he was going through was not unnoticed by the pureblood Slytherin. Thinking about his friend and their journey into their friendship caused an old wound to reopen, a new wave of pain washing over him.
Then there was Jin, his neighbour Jin, who had stuck with him through thick and thin since childhood. Jin was there to pick him up when the other muggle children started calling him a freak. He never thought that Jin would end up at Hogwarts, not until they both got their letter when their mothers met up during their weekly cooking sessions. Getting excited over the letters, their mothers gushed at the two of them being best friends forever. Having Jin be there with him when they both entered the grand halls of the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a comfort he knew he shouldn’t indulge in. After all, they would probably not end up in the same house, and having read enough about the School, he knew there were rivalries, stereotypes. He couldn’t bear the thought of Jin becoming his enemy. So he kept his distance. But as usual, Jin had an innate ability to jump in and save the day, a stubbornness only characteristic to Gryffindors. So, Jin stayed by his side. The boy was smart enough to not reveal their friendship to everyone. Until this day, that is.
Then there was Red, you were the sole reason his cold facade melted. For you he became the person that he used to be. Warm hearted and ready to jump to anyone’s aid. He tried his best to not let his wall crumble, and for the most part he succeeded. But in his heart, something changed, something shifted. Your loud and honest personality paired with your stubbornness and your laissez faire attitude drew him in straight away. Yet, you were Jimin’s cousin, born as a pureblood, with the values of a Slytherin. You were loud and proud about being who you were. Never obnoxious about it, but there would be times when you would slip in one insult or another towards fellow ‘mudblood’ students. Yoongi knew then that as enraptured as he was by you, he had to keep you at a distance. He could not let you find out who he was, so he denied himself the intimacy with you that he desperately craved.
He got caught in the web of lies he has created around his persona. The Yoongi that everyone knew was a facade, he was not and he would never be that Yoongi. He wasn’t the pureblood genius that everyone knew, and he certainly was not the pureblood that could ever hope to win Red’s heart. At the thought of you his eyes honed in on yours. To his surprise he couldn’t see any animosity in them, instead the sheen that glossed over your eyes spoke of pain. The sight of you there, amongst the people who have witnessed his comeuppance was unbearable to him and so with one last wistful glance at you, he turned on his heels and ran.
“Yoongi!” The chorus of voices calling him was drowned out by the desperation in your voice.
He ran as fast as he could, stumbling into people, his eyes filling with hot tears. His legs were starting to hurt, and as he passed students, teachers, statues, Peeves who tried to pelt him with water - all he could focus on was the scene that had sealed his fate. The punches, his innate reaction to help his friends. The way Jin and Jimin had thrown meaningless words at each other. Something so unlike Jin that he did not know what to do, he acted instantly to break up the fight. Seeing his childhood friend, his brother, this aggressive triggered something in him he had not felt for a while. Fear.
He feared that Jin may have snapped, the trials of his life finally catching up to him at one word sputtered by Park’s mouth, so he acted out of pure instinct. He got in between the two, but to everyone’s surprise, Jimin was not the person he first reached out to. It was Jin who worried him the most. Talking to him in front of everyone as if he was an old friend, saying things to him that he shouldn’t have known, raised an alarm in everyone’s minds. When everything finally calmed down, Jin calmed down and Park, constrained by Taehyung. Yoongi was the only one left in the middle of the crowd, exposed and afraid.
Seeing him stand like that, his nervous countenance so unlike the cool composed man you’ve come to know, spurred you on. Cautiously you approached him, your hand extended towards him. “Yoongi?” You tried to get his attention however, your voice came out softer than you’d intended. Clearing your throat, you tried again, this time with a lot more conviction. “Yoongi, are you...ok?” To your credit, you settled for the safest of questions. There were a million thoughts running through your head, how did he know Jin? Most importantly, how did he know Jin so well? You have never once witnessed any contact between him and the Gryffindor Head Boy, other than the occasional nod in his direction. But this, everything you’ve heard, it seemed like their relationship ran deeper than Hogwarts. Purebloods and muggles in your head did not mix, especially Slytherins, unless there was something there that you were missing. That thought now in your head, you threw a hesitant glance in Jimin’s direction. It was easy to spot him amongst the rest, his face the only calm composed one out of all of them. Taehyung, Sunny, Nerd- the surprise was clear and apparent on their faces. Jimin’s calm composure told you all you needed to know- he was aware of the situation. Promising yourself to question him later, you turned your attention back to Yoongi, who as time passed looked more and more like a cornered animal, and you knew that at any moment he would flee the scene. Without thinking you took three rushed steps towards him, your eyes locked onto his. You read the sheer panic in them and before you could react his feet had carried him halfway across the hallway. “Yoongi!”
Without thinking you ran after him, ignoring your cousin’s shouts for you to return. You did what you normally did best, acted rashly and ignorantly. As a beater on the Slytherin team you had the athletic advantage and so you quickly caught up with his retreating form. Reaching out for his arm you stopped him dead in his tracks. “Yoongi. Stop.” Your voice sounded harsher than you’d intended, so desperate to get him to listen to you that you did not consider how your tone would affect him. You waited, not even phased by the sound of the other students milling in the corridors, the sight of his back being all you could see. The sound of his laboured breathing all you could hear. You uttered his name again yet, he did not turn around to face you, and for a second your composure crumbles. You squeeze his arm trying to get his attention, trying to get him to respond to you, trying to get him to do something. Caught up in your own thoughts and worries you yelped in surprise, you didn’t even notice his sharp intake of breath before he suddenly yanked his arm out of your hold.
“What do you want now?” The tone of his voice is as cold as the corridor you are both in. Your heart clenches at the sound. You were expecting him to be hurt or scared, but the anger that you could read in his voice takes you by surprise. How Slytherin of him, you thought, and how Slytherin of you to assume he would be anything but angry. All your life you’ve been indoctrinated to believe that anyone is below you, no matter who they are, all your life you were taught to assume you could read everyone, and you would always be right in your assumptions. Prejudice is not a winner in this case, you realised, not when it comes to love. Because all the nights you have spent in your dark room mulling over what had transpired between the two of you since that day in the bathroom, to the Yule Ball where you could barely think of dancing with anyone else but him. You didn’t see it coming, like a Bludgeon to the head, but your heart did. You tried and tried to tell yourself that it was not love, but it was already too late.
“Yoongi, please don’t shut us out.” You haven’t pleaded in your life, the sound of your voice a surprise to your ears. Before you could think too much into it, Yoongi’s response hit you like the Cruciatus curse.
“Why? Why would I not? Why would I let you use my situation to fuel your pureblood pride?” He spat and you recoiled instantly from him, you’ve never heard such venomous words coming from him. “Yoongi,” you whispered, the fire in your heart dwindling. “Why are you like this? I’ve never....why,” you tried to find your words but the hurt and shock running through your body made it difficult. “You’ve never been like this.” You finally settled. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you, his fierce expression made you tremble. The shivers running down your spine didn’t stop even as he carried on. The malicious tone of his voice bleeding through your veins like ice cold water. For a second you wonder if this is what Jimin’s felt like as Sunny pulled him out of the Black Lake. Cold and scared.
“What do you know about me?” You open your mouth to respond but he stops you dead in your tracks. “Nothing!” he hissed. “You don’t know anything about me. You know Yoongi, the Slytherin. But you don’t know anything about Min Yoongi the person.” His words cut through you and in that moment you’d rather be stuck with an army of Dementors than hear the accusations thrown your way. You knew he was right, you knew nothing of him. You hadn’t tried to even after your brain finally accepted that your heart belonged to him. Ashamedly, you cower away from him, your heart stuck in your throat, the sudden feeling of nausea hitting you as if you’ve had more Butterbeer than needed. You couldn’t speak, your words falling short of your own feelings. You wanted to tell him you wanted to know him, the real him, pureblood or not, it was him you have fallen in love with. You wanted to tell him the extent of your feelings, yet nothing would come out. The silence that settled over the two of you was pressing and your senses were telling you to run, to get away from the uncomfortable feelings coursing through you. There was a reason you were sorted in Slytherin, more than your pureblood status, the need for self preservation ingrained in you since birth.
Yoongi’s laugh brought you back to the present, the despair you could discern in it made your heart break. Once more, the need to yell out your feelings, to comfort him like you did that day in the bathroom, willed you to move, and so you did. Taking a small weary step, the need to be closer to him overriding your cautiousness you softly whispered his name.
Scared and confused, Yoongi knew he had shut himself in. He was aware of what his words were doing to you, yet he could not bring himself to care. Not when all he could feel was the rejection that had trumped over his entire life, not when the hurt he has carried since birth which was not even his own doing, fuelled his emotions. His heart was screaming at him to move away from you before he did more damage, to remove himself from your vulnerable form, something he had only witnessed twice, your pride never allowing you to show anything less than perfection. However, what he did was the complete opposite to that. The hand that was extended towards him, in an attempt at reconciliation, made him bristle, and so, acting like a cornered Hippogriff, he took the bite in the form of words. Words he would come to regret later, but at that moment, it did not matter to him.
“Stop, just stop.” His voice was loud and clear, the hardness of it washing over you. He could have cast a Stupefy spell over you and the results would have been the same. You froze, the feeling of dread gripping at your heart. “Do you think you can come here, with your pretty words and make everything better?” He spat, his eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t know anything about me, and you wouldn’t care to know.”
Finding your voice, the anger he is throwing at you fuelling yours, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Yoongi, stop. I never said I did not want to know you. I will never shut you out like you are now. Stop being a coward. Don’t shut us out,” The anger in your voice dissipated, leaving the desperation that you felt to seep through. “Don’t shut me out.” But Yoongi is relentless, his anger blinding, he knew he needed to protect himself from what was to come and so, he chose to do it in the only way he’s known how to, by distancing himself from people and his own feelings. “So what, are you implying you’d be friends with a mudblood?” He scoffed, and for a second you couldn’t find the will to speak. Taking it as an agreement, Yoongi carries on, his voice more spiteful than before. “See what I mean? You are not going to shut me out? That is a lie, and you know it. What would your parents think about their perfect princess being friends with a dirty blood traitor huh? What would they say if you brought something as disgusting as that and presented him as your friend? You couldn't, could you? Your perfect status is too important to be tainted” He took another step towards you, but this time instead of meeting him in the middle, you took a step back. The fire in his eyes, and the hatred in his voice terrified you.
“But you’re not a mudblood, not…” You couldn’t continue, your heart stuck in your throat, and the taste of bile invaded your tastebuds once more. You could feel the tears pricking, waiting to come out. Yoongi stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as if you’ve burnt him. And maybe you have, because the next second he groaned in frustration, “see what I mean, Y/N? Full mudblood or not, blood status will forever matter to you. And this is why you need to stay away from me. Forget I even existed in your life.” With that he turned around and left in a hurry his robes billowing behind him, not even bothering to glance back at your broken form. He knew he shattered you, his words pierced through your heart, he could’ve used an Unforgivable Curse on you and it would have been kinder than this. Yoongi tried his hardest to not break down in front of you but as soon as he turned the corner and was out of your sight he crumpled to the ground, his silent sobs a mirror of your echoing ones.
He didn’t know how long he’d stayed there, he didn’t know when his legs carried him to the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle normally did the rounds in, yet he wasn’t disturbed by anyone. He didn’t even notice you entering and trying to talk to him again, all he could hear was the yells of his father, the abuse he suffered because of what he was, all to the soundtrack of his own sobs. He could feel his body begging him to stop, to stop crying himself to exhaustion. When he eventually calmed down he found himself unable to move, and you were nowhere to be seen. His body stiff from sitting in one position for so long, his head pounding with the effort of crying, he felt empty. Helpless. He didn’t know where to go from there, aware it was late he willed himself to move. He knew he needed to return to the dungeons, it would be around this time that Jimin would start his rounds as Prefect and he didn’t want to risk getting points taken away from them if anyone else but Jimin found him loitering in the corridors. Though, that wouldn’t be unlike him, a disappointment to his house.
Luckily for him, the way to the Common Room was deserted. Before entering, the growl coming from his empty stomach reminded him he missed dinner and so at the last minute he took a detour towards the kitchens, hoping that one of the Elves could make him something to eat. Standing in front of the painting he tickled the pear. Entering the kitchens he greeted the House Elves but to his surprise, he found himself staring at Jimin. Muttering his name Yoongi went to turn around and leave, the sight of his friend a painful reminder of what happened a few hours prior. “Yoongi, wait.” Jimin’s voice sounded stern and by habit, Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t want to face his friend, the friend who always thought he was something he wasn’t, something he could never be, and something that Jimin valued above anything else. The thought of you crossed his mind and he closed his eyes tightly in grief. How could he dare face the cousin of the person he’s hurt the most?
“Jimin.” He couldn’t say anymore than that, his feelings clear in his voice. He felt angry, he felt ashamed, he felt like a fraud. No one said a word, the hustle and bustle of the House Elves the only noise that could be heard around them. Finally, Jimin sighed as he sat back down, motioning for Yoongi to join him. Yoongi hesitated, he shouldn’t. He didn’t know what Jimin would do now that he knew his friend wasn’t what he said. “Please sit or I'll have to report you to the Headboy for being out this late.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t put it past Jimin to do such a thing so he complied, and sat down further away. Once again Jimin sighed,”look, I won’t discuss what happened today unless you wish to.” Yoongi’s eyes widened, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was so unlike Jimin to make a pass at someone in such a way.
“Then why am I sitting here?” Yoongi bit back, too exhausted to lash out at Jimin, even though that is all he wanted to do. “Because you are my friend.” Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff at Jimin’s words, “Yes, you are my friend Yoongi, nothing can change that, especially since you are in love with my cousin.” Yoongi froze, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His brain was yelling at him to deny it, how could he love you, when all he’s done was hurt you, yet his heart wholeheartedly agreed with Jimin. Confused by his own feelings, he didn’t say anything while waiting for Jimin to continue. Seeing that his friend was not going to react to his words Jimin sighed and continued. “Look, I knew who you were, I've known since 4th year.” Yoongi snapped his head round to look at Jimin, his eyes wide in surprise. “You...knew? Why then...?” he whispered and Jimin nodded. “Yes, I knew. Why, then, did I not say anything or why have I stayed your friend?” Yoongi nodded at the latter, he wanted answers for both of those questions but he would take whatever Jimin would give him. Jimin sighed once more, he never realised how broken his friend actually was, and it broke his heart to see it. “Because no matter what, you are who you are, not what your blood status is. Yes, there is prejudice, and I apologise if I've ever made you feel like I would shun you because of this, but I frankly don’t care. My family does, but I don't care what they do either.” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, relief washing over him. Jimin didn’t care. It felt as if a rock had been lifted off his chest. Jimin smiled grimly, “I will fight until the end with them if it means I get to live the life I want.” Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Is this about Sunny?” Jimin hummed in agreement. “I will tell my parents after graduation.” Yoongi shuddered, he knew where this was going, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse. “I will consider.” He said and got up to leave; suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.
“That is all I am asking of you.” Yoongi smiled grimly at Jimin but didn’t reply. Jimin continued, “And Yoongi, what I just said about not caring what you are? I know Red doesn’t either. So please consider that too.” Yoongi left without uttering another word, his heart pounding in his chest.
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The sight of the looming manor made Yoongi stop dead in his tracks, his blood ran cold and he fought the instinct to Disapparate back to his home. He was here for Jimin’s sake, he needed to be there for his friend so with a sigh he dejectedly made his way towards the entrance. With the last bit of his strength he prepared himself to knock, only to be startled when the door opened for him as soon as he raised his hand towards the knocker. Confused, he took a cautious step inside, expecting someone to yell at him for trespassing. When only silence greeted him, he glanced around, taking in the intimidating vastness of the corridor. The mahogany theme of the door continued inside, the tall ceiling supported by wooden beams displaying various carvings. Yoongi took his time observing the paintings displayed above his head, the intricacy and detail told him they were an expensive artifact. Taking a few more hesitant steps, he came face to face with a grand mirror, its frame made out of solid gold and Yoongi couldn’t help but huff at the thought of a Slytherin owning something else apart from silver. But then again, Jimin has never been your usual Slytherin. Before he could wonder further into the house, his ears picked up a murmur carrying over from the right hand side.
Determined to not make himself appear like a muggle, he took a deep breath in and with a determined stance, straightening his back he prepared himself to fully enter enemy territory. He was a lithe person, normally living in the shadows, he was used to not making a sound as he walked. Sometimes that would be a blessing and sometimes it would be a curse. As he approached the location where the voices were coming from he decided it was the former rather than the latter. Turning the corner, his heart stopped for a second. With her back towards him, in full dark green robes, bent over, whispering cautiously to a house elf, stood Red. He hadn’t seen you since that last argument, the two of you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other. You played this avoidance game throughout to the end of the year, it wasn’t hard to do so.
With your N.E.W.Ts around the corner, you both got stuck studying for your respective classes. Fortunately for him, aside from Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts you two didn’t share any other classes together. So for the rest of the year, you two didn’t have any unnecessary meetings. At first, Yoongi felt relieved, the way he treated you at that time was a painful memory, not having the chance to face you about it eased his mind. He wasn’t wrong when he told you during your dance at the Yule Ball that he was going to hurt you, you adamantly refused to believe him. That night in the corridor when he degraded your status as a pureblood with all the hatred he could muster, he saw the heartbreak in your eyes. At the time, he couldn’t care less, the painful memories of his childhood completely blinding him, the shame hit him a few hours later when he talked to your cousin. “She has the right to love whomever she wants, what she doesn’t have is a choice to have whomever she wants. Yet, she’s fighting for that choice, and her choice is you. She couldn’t have found a better cause to fight for.”
Those words stayed in his heart until the end of the year, he didn’t know how or when, but he’s slowly come to terms with his feelings. He suspected his talk with Jin about it also helped. Jin, who came to apologise about the situation he put Yoongi through, however, contrary to his first reaction, Yoongi was quick to assure him it didn’t matter. People were bound to find out regardless, it wasn’t as if the situation ended up that way due to Jin’s malicious intent. The discussion with Jin made him realise that people haven’t treated him differently. He’s managed to make friends during these years at Hogwarts, and the friends he’s made liked him for himself, not his status in society. The only people who may have had a real issue with it were the first people to find out, the people who accepted him without a doubt.
At the sight of you, crouched to the House Elf’s level whispering instructions, his gaze softened. You were one of those people, and yet, he treated you horribly. As a Slytherin pureblood you had your faults, pride being one of them, but you’ve never treated anyone differently based on their blood status. You tended to stay away from what would be deemed as ‘impure blood’ but that wasn’t a choice, the rivalries and prejudice between Houses made it difficult to overcome that. Suddenly his ears picked his name out from the conversation and he took a step back, assuring that he was hidden from view.
“Make sure Yoongi doesn’t realise, ok? Honestly, how can he Disapparate in front of the Manor and come knock like a muggle?” Yoongi’s heart clenched at your words, maybe he was wrong, maybe you did avoid him on purpose. Before his thoughts could take over his actions, you carried on, “this family would not only suspect him, but go to the depths of looking into his family history. Make sure no one realises he didn’t Floo himself here, Harvey.” Yoongi unknowingly took a few steps closer to you, his body now in full view. Straightening up, you turned to leave the room when you caught sight of Yoongi’s frozen form.
Your surprised expression instantly turned cold, as you nodded at him in acknowledgement. “Yoongi.” Said man couldn’t find his words to greet you, the discrepancy between your cold words to him and what he’s heard earlier making his head spin. Your face may have been stony cold, but your heart bled for him. You’d missed him- playing the avoidance game had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. Seeing him now, looking fresher and healthier than he was the last time you saw him, hurt. Because you knew that it was you who’d managed to bring him to despair. You may have done it subconsciously, or maybe you weren’t even a part of it, but the guilt gnawed at your inside nonetheless. Your world was not healthy for him. You knew that. You shouldn’t have even thought about bringing him into it, this wasn’t a fairytale, and it would never be. You needed to let him go. Defeated, you prepared yourself to leave. But just like Jimin had stopped him that night in the kitchens, Yoongi decided that it was time to stop being a coward. He needed to face his demons, and most importantly he needed to make sure you never left his side again.
“Y/N.” The tone of his voice made you stop abruptly, your eyes widened in panic. This was not meant to happen, you weren’t ready to face him on your own just yet. Putting on the most cordial face you could, you nodded at him in acknowledgment. “Yoongi. How have you been?” He hated it- hated this politeness towards him. Where was the woman who put him in his place more than once? Where was the woman whose pride meant she had to have the last word. “I-Fine.” He was so caught off guard by your behaviour that he found the words he’d prepared stuck in his throat.
Staring at him for a second longer, you nodded. “Well-“ Yoongi knew what you were going to say so with a last surge of courage he plunged. “I love you.” You froze, your brain trying to wrap itself around the confession that Yoongi just hurtled at you. “What?” You whispered, you needed to make sure you heard it correctly. Yoongi took a deep breath in, the cat was already out of the bag, and he would be as truthful with you as he could without drinking any Veritaserum. “I love you, I may not be the best for you, by Merlin, I am not even a possibility for you, but I wanted to let you know. I’ve run away too much, and you were right, I’ve been a coward. But if I want to stand any chance against your family, I need to stop hiding behind my hatred and cowardice.” His words were said with such conviction they brought tears to your eyes. Unknowingly, your feet carried you closer and closer to him, until you broke off into a run, not caring about how unladylike you may have looked. You threw yourself into his arms making him stumble. “I love you.” You whispered into his shirt, the tears flowing down your cheeks washing away the pain you’ve garnered in your heart. There was nothing else exchanged, there was no need to. You both knew how you felt, you both knew the other knew how you felt. You were both aware it will be a tough ride for the both of you, but your hearts were mending and that was all that mattered.
“What about the French bastard?” Yoongi broke out of your hold and looked at you in confusion. “What about him?” Your eyes are twinkling like the night stars, and Yoongi swore he saw galaxies in your smile. “My parents don’t want a son in law who ditches their daughter at a ball.” You chuckled as Yoongi’s eyes widened. “Plus,” you grabbed his hand and led him out of the drawing room towards a grandiose, intricately carved door. Behind it, Yoongi could hear murmurs and he assumed that is where the party was being held. “Jimin can be very convincing when he wants to.” You winked at him playfully.
“Let's hope he’s more than willing to be convincing today too.” Yoongi smirked and he looked at you. “You ready?” At your nod, you both waved your hands whispering Alohomora and watched with your hearts in your throat as the door opened. It was now or never.
As Jimin announced his relationship to Sunny, your hand gripped Yoongi’s subconsciously. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest in fear. Fear for Jimin and his relationship, but most importantly, fear for yourself and your own chances at a happy relationship with Yoongi. You glanced at said man, he looked terrified as if he was the one under scrutiny, you could notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The silence in the room felt heavy and you turned your attention towards your parents. You knew it was selfish, it was Jimin you should be worried about and yet, all you could think of was the man next to you. The man who managed to brave this manor, and these purebloods despite his adversity to them. All for your cousin. You could see the tick in your parent’s jaw, you could see the tension between Jimin and his father, so thick you could cut it with a knife. No one dared to say anything for a while, and just like that, with the sounds of a platter dropping to the floor the tension was broken like a spell. Everyone’s heads turned towards the source of the noise. There in the middle of the fireplace, stood the fashionably late Taehyung, having Floo’d in straight into a House Elf serving a platter of wine. “My apologies for the lateness!” He exclaimed as he took in the mess he’s managed to create. With a wave of his hand he mumbled “Reverte” under his breath, not giving the House Elf another look as he made his way in between Jimin and his father. “Mr. Park, lovely to see you.” He bows his head in respect, not giving Jimin’s father any time to react, Taehyung turns quickly towards Jimin. “Jimin, you are needed in the Auror Office today as soon as possible.”
If you wouldn’t have known those two rascals from a very young age you would’ve thought it a coincidence, a bloody godsend, but because you have been around them since diapers you didn’t miss the slight turn at the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, or the way Jimin subtly nodded at him. They have planned this from the beginning, and with a small relieved laugh you acknowledge Tae’s greeting with a wave of your hand.
“They planned this all along didn’t they?” Yoongi’s whisper in your ears makes you shudder. Still chuckling to yourself you nod, “of course they did, it’s the double trouble of Hogwarts, well I should say the Auror’s Office now shouldn’t I?” Turning towards him, you don’t miss the amused glint in his eyes. You barely notice the commotion of the party carrying on around you, your fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s, your gazes locked and silly smiles on your faces. If Jimin could do this and get through it, then so could you. You weren’t going to let Outdated Park beat you at that too.
“We will be fine.” You said determinately, a surge of courage and hopefulness running through you. Chuckling at your expression, Yoongi nodded.
“Yes we will, Red, yes we will.” You could get through this, especially if it was with Yoongi by your side, it was all worth it.
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kmorales1 · 3 years
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Office Affairs
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18, go away, thanks.)
Warnings: Uh, unprotected sex(this is fiction please wrap it before you tap it), i'm bad at this. One(1) mention of spit(whoops).
A note: Hey, so I wrote this in an hour and (maybe) a half. This entire thing is purely based off my intense yearning for Javi the past few days(more like weeks). Also he's incredibly hard to write for so I hope I was able to capture his character. This is also my first time writing smut, let alone posting it. Be gentle with your critics lmao. It might not be entirely cohesive but I tried really hard but anyway this is what my brain popped out.
Javier Peña is the type of guy to take you home for a quick fuck, cuddle you like he’s in love with you, and then leave an hour later without barely a glance in your direction. You know this, you’d heard the whispers about him in the embassy when you were making your way to the filing room, or to the break room for your afternoon lunch.
And you believed them.
The first night Javier took you home you were 99% sure that you’d get the best fuck of your life out of him and then he’d be gone before you could even ask him to stay the night. And let’s be honest you wanted him to stay the night. To feel him pressed against you, his broad chest against your back, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. God, you yearned for that man. Or maybe just a man, it’d been a while.
You weren’t entirely wrong though, you did get the best fuck of your life out of him, but you also found the Javier that was sprawled in your bed, a lit cigarette between his lips, wasn’t the same man he was in the daylight of the office.
He was quieter, soft spoken, almost open.
The first few times he had stayed for a bit after to lay pressed beside you talking about work and you had even managed to pull a few details about his life back home. A few. But those few details only left you craving more, and who could blame you. He was intoxicating. You hadn’t been expecting it and now that you saw it, you wanted more.
“You know, you’re different like this.”
You had practically whispered the words to him, a little scared you might somehow push him back into the person he was in the light of day. But he only offered you something almost like a smile and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.
“I think, maybe i’m just different with you.”
He didn’t elaborate or say anything more, and you didn’t say anything in response. Cause what could you say? He’d pressed you open into the mattress a few minutes later his head between your thighs. Taking you apart slowly whispering filthy things as he brought you over the edge.
Your heart clenched as he laid his head on your thigh afterwards, his hair an unruly mess.
You wanted him like this all the time.
You weren’t naïve,though. So you didn’t think much of the way he laid beside you, or the things he said to you. He could feed any pretty woman words to make them feel special, and no matter how much you wanted to be different, something told you weren’t.
That became apparent when you started seeing less of Javier and hearing more about his informants and the other women he would bring home some nights. You weren’t mad, nor jealous, but you weren’t exactly fine either.
Coming home from a late night at work you had passed him and who you assumed was one of those said people that were whispered about. She was laughing at something, his arm locked tight around her waist guiding her down the hall. His face didn’t match hers but he certainly didn’t look unhappy, and when you crossed their path trying hurriedly to get into your apartment before seeing something you didn’t want to, he barely spared you a side glance.
Fine.
You stopped giving him the attention he silently would ask for in the daytime. His gaze burning hot on your body as you silently sipped your tea in the corner of the break room. Or the way he would brush your shoulder as he passed your desk. It’s almost laughable how he could seemingly seek your attention out one minute and then act like you didn’t exist the next. You didn’t play into it and things were fine.
Until they weren’t.
“You’re ignoring me, princesa.”
He’s got you cornered in the filing room his broad form practically towering over you. This is the closest you’ve been to him since you’d seen him that night, or the occasional time he would purposeful bump into you in the office.
“Hello Javi,” You barely managed to hold onto the papers in your hands. His close proximity to you slightly knocking you off center. You weren’t entirely lying when you said things were fine, but him being so close and the smell of him nearly overpowering was reminding you of the parts that were exactly not fine.
“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”
That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, he knows it’s a lie. Things had been incredibly slow the past couple of weeks. Pablo in hiding from a recent raid that hit a little too close to home.
“I think we both know that’s a lie,”
And oh, is his voice a little breathier.
You curse yourself quietly, because you’re supposed to be putting this behind you. This man only sought you out when he felt like it when he was bored. But the way he’s pressed so close to you, if you just leaned forward a tiny bit. His eyes are skimming over your face, like he’s taking in the changes he’s missed in the past few weeks he hasn’t seen you.
There’s a tilt of his head and a small push forward and his lips are a near inch away from yours.
“Don’t you miss me, baby?”
Your knees nearly buckle.
He called you that exactly one time before. A rough raid with Carrillo had him stumbling into your apartment at nearly 1 am, luckily you had just gotten home from work and were still awake. His shirt was damp with sweat, the color of it slightly darker than the original pink, a stray mark of blood on his face- you later found out wasn’t his. He’d been needy, the way he had pressed you into the counter in your kitchen, fucked you within an inch of your life it felt like. Growling filthy things into your ear, praising you, before pulling you roughly to the floor(his back didn’t forgive him for days after that) and sliding you onto him. You’d rode him hard and fast nearly sobbing your release. He’d came up to cradle you to him. Whispering baby and your name reverently into your hair. You didn’t talk about it, what had made him so frantic. You had to practically peel yourself away from him and when you did it had broken the spell. He was up, fixing his jeans, kissing your forehead and then he was gone out the door before you could even get words out.
Javier whispering your name brings you back to the present, his eyes are locked on your lips and fuck-
Your fingers are dropping the papers and urgently sliding up his back to curl in his hair, pulling him the last bit of distance to bring his mouth to yours.
You’ll tell him later that you don’t forgive him for that debacle with the woman he brought home with him and you’ll also tell him the other things that have been pent up for the past almost month. And if he doesn’t like it oh well, but god right now all you want is to be fucked by this infuriating man.
“Javi-“
Your plea is broken as his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth his hands holding firmly to your hips.
“Javi please”
He shushes you, his leg coming to press between your thighs, right against where you want him the most and you nearly keen at the relief it gives. His thigh flexes and applies just the pressure to send your hips sliding forward.
“Quiet, princesa you don’t want anyone to hear,”
Oh fuck. You’re at work right now. You’re at work fuck. You’re at work. You remind yourself again.
One more time you’re at work-
But no one really comes back here. (that’s a lie)
His hands are guiding your hips roughly, and you’re practically riding his thigh. The feeling is too much and not enough all at once.
“Anything, Javi please.”
You’re breathless whimper has him growling under his breath as he pushes you deeper into the cabinets. His hands tear your skirt out of the way, pushing your panties aside before dipping his fingers into your center.
“Baby, fuck you’re so wet,”
His fingers leave you momentarily to slide into his mouth. The hum that leaves him is enough to push a wave of slick out of you, and you eagerly grip any part of him you can reach.
“Is this for me? You have missed me,”
The smug look on his face makes you want to roll your eyes, and you would if he wasn’t currently sliding his fingers back into you and curling them just like that-
“Fuck! Javi,”
The hand that is grasping your hips leaves to hurriedly slap a hand over your mouth. His eyes are burning into yours his teeth bared slightly.
“I said quiet, do you want our coworkers seeing how much a slut you are for me?”
He licks a line up the side of your neck before coming to suckle and bite lightly on your ear.
“Youd like it wouldn’t you?”
You’re practically dripping at his words, the squelching noise from his fingers fucking into you roughly is nearly obscene. You’re so close you could cry, if he could just give a little more.
“More,”
It’s a desperate plea for anything and it’s slightly muffled by his hand but he gets the message. His hand drops and you’re caught off guard by him roughly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.
You nearly moan at the sight, long and thick with precum gathering at the tip. Fuck it’s been so long you want to taste. But he’s got you shoved back up against the nearest filing cabinet, his hand back over your mouth as he nudges his cock against your clit.
You keen at the slight pressure it gives before you jerk at the feeling of him sliding into you fully his hips flush to yours.
“Fuck, hermosa,” his teeth are clenched tight the cords of his neck strained as he whispers praises into your ear.
"Baby you’re so tight, missed you.”
You don’t even have time to process the last part before he’s almost urgently pulling out to slam back in. You want to worry about the noises that are being made but just as the thought comes in it’s gone. He’s fucking into you hard, his hand still covering your mouth tightly, trying hard to mask the moans that are escaping you. The slight jingle of his belt buckle as he roughly pounds into you shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. His head is pressed to your shoulder and you can feel the air from his mouth as he pants.
You’re so close you can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs. One of your hands is curled tightly in his hair and the other snakes down your body to rub between your clit. Your breath is coming out harsh from your nose meeting the warm skin of his hand and god the thought of his hand over your mouth as he fucks you is so much you think you might come now.
But then his hand slips away and he’s sliding it in your hair to tilt your head back. Baring his teeth he gives one particularly hard thrust before demanding.
“Open.”
Immediately your mouth snaps open and he spits.
"Fucking swallow it."
You do, quickly before you lift eagerly to meet his mouth, teeth clinking harshly.
“Javi i’m gonna come-“
He’s pulling back, whispering urgently in your ear .
"Do it baby, do it now. Cum for me."
You’re pushing to meet his thrusts hurriedly chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your stomach.
“I said now,” The harshness in his voice sends you reeling. You keen, a little too loudly to be in your office building, the thread snapping as you tumble over the edge. Your cunt clenching hard around him. Somewhere through the haze you feel Javier bite roughly into your shoulder and his cock jerk inside of you as he cums.
His hands are sliding around you to pull you into him his face meeting your neck as he pants, his cock softening inside of you. There’s a pleasant sounding hum from him as you card your fingers through his hair your nails scratching lazily at his scalp. The room is humid and sticky you suddenly come back to yourself, sinking down from your post orgasm high.
“Javier,”
The change in your voice has him pulling back to look at you before his eyes widen in understanding.
Yes, basking in the after sex glow isn’t the best idea at the moment.
“We can talk after work okay?”
There’s a nod from him before he’s sliding out of you with a hiss and tucking himself back into his jeans. And there’s a lot to talk about, he isn’t off the hook, and you’ve got to think it over because you know you have technically no right to even be upset.
You’re adjusting your skirt when you feel him cup your cheek.
“I really did miss you.”
Its said quietly, almost like it’s a secret.
And momentarily, you forget everything you need to be confused about with him.
"I missed you too."
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Text
tuxedo iii, m | myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader
summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?
warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are
*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...
part i | part ii
-
You woke up slowly. 
A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check. 
Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check. 
Wait… 
What?
Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left. 
Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear. 
Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?
Ah, yup, check. 
His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.
Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.
Hahaha…
Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?
Man.
Cat-man. 
Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.
... 
Unless?
No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–
"Are you dying?"
You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out. 
"Urk!"
"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."
You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you. 
"Y-Your hand!"
Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"
What about it???
"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.
Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. 
HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???
"Is there a problem?"
IS THERE A PROBLEM???????
"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.
That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep. 
Keyword: small.
"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.
"I'm still a cat."
"No, you're a man! With arms!"
"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"
WHO CARES???????
Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!
Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.
You froze. 
He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.
Your soul left your body. 
"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."
You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?
You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.
Hang on. 
Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.
"Um."
Er...
"What?" your cat-man grunted.
"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."
"What about it?"
"You, uh... have morning wood."
"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"
A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.
"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"
"Yeah, so? It's cold too."
Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.
Not deal with it, of course.
You fainted.
-
"Fuck!"
You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.
Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.
(Ouch, roasted.)
"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out. 
Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going. 
You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove. 
"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."
If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn. 
"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.
"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.
"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease. 
"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."
Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you.  As for being an animal, well…
You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.
"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"
"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."
He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"
Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly. 
Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."
"Right, so should I, goodbye now."
You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse. 
"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball. 
"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place. 
"I like you."
"Hah... wait, what?"
Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow. 
"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.
You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could. 
“... Urk?”
“Noona.”
Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?
Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.
"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"
Respectfully, of course. 
"How much rice do you want?"
You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.
"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."
And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.
Awesome. 
-
“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”
“Meat.”
You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–
“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”
“What else is there?”
You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”
“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.
You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”
He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”
You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”
He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…
“Okay, I ordered it.”
“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”
-
After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?
Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.
You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.
Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.
Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.
Yeah, it’s a weird world.
You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.
“Woof.”
You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.
“Gah!”
You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.
He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”
You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”
Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”
“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.
You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.
“Your phone is flashing.”
You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.
LET ME SEE YOUR CAT
LET ME SEE YOUR CAT
LET ME SEE YOUR CAT
LET ME SEE YOUR CAT
LET ME SEE YOUR CAT
You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.
You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.
“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.
That moment wasn’t even that long ago.
Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.
“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.
“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.
Now…
“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”
Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”
You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”
He shrugged again. “I was bored.”
“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”
He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.
“Yup.”
Sigh.
-
You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…
(You already know the answer.)
Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.
“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.
“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”
“I selected next-day delivery.”
You paled.
“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”
You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”
“Mhm.”
You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.
You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?
You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.
“What… are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Investigating.”
You blinked. “Investigating what?”
“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”
You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.
His expression was completely neutral.
For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.
“Uh… okay…”
You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.
You felt the color drain out of your face.
My… wallet…
F in the chat.
You fainted.
-
You felt someone poking you in the head.
“Are you dead?”
You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.
“Did I spend too much?”
You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.
“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”
He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.
You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”
For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.
“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.
“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”
Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.
“Do you wish this never happened?”
“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”
He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”
Human me.
You answered instantly.
“No.”
Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.
You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”
His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.
You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”
“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.
“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”
“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”
“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”
He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”
“Right.”
You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.
-
You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.
A certain quality. 
A certain quality of... of... 
Needing the money.
Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves. 
Sigh. 
-
"I ordered the wrong color."
"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet. 
The reply was instant. 
hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE
You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more. 
"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up. 
Your jaw dropped. 
You dropped your phone. 
Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it. 
It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope. 
You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.
-
We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–
Oi!
No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say? 
This is just an ad? 
Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–
STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!
-
Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone. 
At a very specific number. 
He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.
What did he have, really?
A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree. 
Loneliness.
He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything. 
He shouldn't have played it off.
He shouldn't have distracted.
Not after he admitted it.
"I like you."
Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that. 
Ah.
He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.
Sigh. 
-
You sneezed. 
Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 
You sniffed, rubbing your nose. 
"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered. 
Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"
Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.
Wait. 
Man or cat-man?
Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.
His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers. 
There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh. 
Whoa. 
"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs. 
Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch. 
Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket. 
Oh. 
Oh??? 
Oh!!!!!!!
"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone. 
Oh…
Right. The tail.
Because he's a cat... man.
Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.
"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt. 
You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him. 
Yoongi was right next to you. 
Literally so close that you could feel his body heat. 
"... Urk!"
You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second. 
Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…
Yoongi slapped you in the face.
“Ow!”
You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.
“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.
Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.
“You hit yourself pretty hard.”
He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.
Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?
Is that even a question?
Yes.
Yes, you were.
“You look like you did last night.”
“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.
“Your pupils are dilated.”
You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.
“Heartrate increased.”
You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.
“And that smell.”
You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.
You swallowed.
“S… smell?”
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?
You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.
“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”
Right?
Seconds passed.
Right???
Minutes passed.
RIGHT???????
Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.
“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes widened.
Yoongi kissed you.
You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.
It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.
Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.
You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.
He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!
“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.
You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.
“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”
“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”
You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”
All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.
Yikes.
Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.
“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.
Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”
Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.
His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.
“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”
And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!
But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.
“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”
You whimpered, losing it.
Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.
Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.
Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.
You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”
“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.  
Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.
“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.
“Y… Yoongi…”
“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”
“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.
“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.
Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.
“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”
You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”
“Only a little.”
He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.
“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”
-
part iv
--
masterpost
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jinmukangwrites · 3 years
Text
Whumptober 2021 - October 3 - "Who did this to you?"
Fandoms: Linked Universe
Ao3
Warnings: major injury, attempted murder, blood, near-death experiences
---
Trouble comes with a smiling face; not that Wild knows that yet. All he sees is an eager young woman with kind eyes and a humble dress, offering to show him where he can get some wine to cook with tonight.
He and the rest of the heroes have been on the road for quite a while now, without a single town in sight. Nothing but various barns to cross their path. This is the first actual town they’ve seen in miles, even though it’s not a very big one. Yet, there is a small inn for weary travelers, and a marketplace near the front entrance of the town where farmers can sell their goods and towns-folk and gossip. The whole group of them are rather low on funds, but the market seemed like the perfect excuse to relax. Spend some money that they just barely have. Pretend to be normal people for just a few hours.
Just until sunset.
It was Wild, Twilight, Warriors, and Hyrule out in the market while the others were making deals with the innkeepers to get cheaper rooms and more beds. Wild wasn’t really sure what the others were wanting to find out in the market today, but Wild was on the hunt for quality ingredients for quality food that he couldn’t make while on the road. He planned on making a meal tonight fit enough for Zelda herself, and he needed wine to do it. Not to drink, of course not, but to soak into fine slices of meat to add extra flavoring. Nothing strong enough to get a man tipsy—and if he ends up with extra wine, he’ll put it in a flask and gift it to the Old Man. Hylia knows he deserves it.
But he couldn’t find anything even remotely related to wine in these small markets. Some stalls sell alcoholic jars of milk, but Wild honestly has never even heard of milk that could be alcoholic, let alone ever cooked with it. By the time the sun was starting to caress the horizon, frustration was bubbling in his belly because of this and all he could think about were those berries he saw on a tree a few days ago that looked perfect for making some of his own wine out of.
Twilight and Warriors were looking at a jewel-smith's stall, admiring the finely crafted trinkets and murmuring to themselves about the ones that would match her eyes, or impress that gentleman at the tavern, and Wild soon lost interest in both the stall and his love-sick companions. He had stood several feet off, leaning against a brick wall, eyeing the closest stalls to him and hoping for even a small sight of anything close to wine set up for sale.
And then he saw her. Trouble, despite him not knowing it. He didn’t even suspect it. Perhaps he’s gotten too used to the threats of other worlds, that he forgot the threats of his own.
She walked up to him, a swish to her brown dress that seemed to almost have a pink tint. Her hair was brown, done up in messy braids and a bun above her head. Wild assumed she was the daughter of a farmer who was selling crops from their farm, so he didn’t assess her too critically. Before he knew it, she was stopped a few feet from him, swaying her dress side to side between her thin fingers.
“Is there something you’re looking for, travelers?” she asked, her voice sweet like sugared honey. Beside him, Hyrule blushed a bit at the ears.
Wild wasn’t much in a good mood at the moment, but he decided that asking for help might be his only option at this point. “I’m looking for wine, or any kind of beverage like it made out of berries?”
The girl hummed, pressing her finger to her chin in thought. “The most popular beverage ‘round here is milk…” she said, and Wild’s shoulders slumped. But then she continued. “Though, I know a liquor shop further in town where they sell all kinds of drinks. I’ll show you the way, but it closes really soon.”
Hope surged in Wild’s chest. Perhaps he would be able to make a fancy meal tonight after all! Feeling in lighter spirits than he had all night, he told Hyrule to inform Twilight and Warriors that he would be going to the liquor shop. Wild barely noticed the slight hesitation on Hyrule’s face before he turned and did as he was asked. Wild should have noticed it. He should have thought more about how eager and smooth talking the girl was, should have been more in tune with his companion’s concerns, but he followed her out of the market anyway.
And now he’s here, laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood thanks to a hole in his stomach. The “liquor store” was nothing more than an abandoned shop several blocks away from the market, but he only found that out when he walked inside and saw the hastily put together lanterns to give the illusion of life, each one placed among dust and cobwebs. Before he could even turn back and question what was going on, the girl was sliding her arm around his side and heartlessly impaling him with a familiarly curved, sickle-like blade.
Her laugh was also familiar as his knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor, wheezing. Though not familiar in a way that he knew her name; he knew her kind.
“Wh-” he gasps, using one hand to clutch at the floor blanketed in bloody dust, and the other to press onto the wound in his stomach like he’s trying to keep everything in. “What-”
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here, hero,” the girl… Yiga chuckles, stepping over his crumpled body to squat by his head. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure either. I fell into a portal… and found myself in a whole new world. And I saw you, and your friends. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to take you down. This is for Master Kohga-” Wild’s too weak to fight her off as she reaches for his body, searching his pockets and taking the only healing potions that he had. “-and for Calamity Ganon. I don’t care what happens to me now, as long as you die painfully and slowly, right here.”
Then, she stands up, takes his potions, and leaves, shutting the door behind her as she laughs into the night.
Stupid. Wild is so stupid. How did he not guess something like this would happen? Did he truly let his guard down so badly that he forgot to always be on the lookout for Yiga soldiers? Has he become so comfortable traveling between worlds that didn’t have rogue Sheikah that it didn’t matter for him to worry about them as much?
He’s going to bleed out and die here, all because he wanted some wine to cook with in a town that only sold fucking milk and he couldn’t bother to make sure the person he was following was actually someone with good intentions. He can already feel his vision swirling, and his entire body feels pathetically weak and cold. The pain is unbearable, bringing tears to his eyes.
He coughs up blood, and does his best to prepare himself for a failure’s death, as he’s too weak to even call for help; let alone try and save himself.
Stupid…
His vision swirls white, and then fades black, and he knows nothing more.
-o-o-o-o-
“Something’s wrong,” Twilight says, several minutes after Hyrule told him and Warriors that Wild had gone off with some farmer girl to find a liquor store.
“Something is wrong,” Twilight repeats when they ask a local villager for directions to the nearest liquor store, and they reply the only alcohol this town sells is the milk in the market.
Hyrule is quick to point out the direction he remembers seeing Wild and the girl go off in, and then they thankfully split up to cover more ground. The second there’s no one to see, Twilight changes into his wolf form, sniffing the air desperately for his kid. Wild’s scent is one that he will always remember, it’s stored and locked within his brain, right next to Mipha, Zelda, and all the kids at Ordon.
He finds Wild’s trail after a nerve wracking few moments, and then he’s dashing through dimly lit streets like his life depends on it.
The feeling of something being horribly wrong only gets stronger when he finds Wild’s scent leading inside a run down looking building with dim, flickering lanterns in the windows. Then, the reek of blood hits his nostrils at full force. He shifts back into his human form and bursts into the front door without a single care on what’s on the other side.
The stench of blood is stronger here, even for his human nose. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that his eyes drop to the floor along with what feels like a stone in his stomach. Wild is at his feet, curled up like a child, red pooling around his terribly pale body.
“No-” Twilight drops down to his knees, already pulling out his spare red potion and gathering Wild into his arms. Wild makes a strangled groan through his throat, but his eyes are squeezed closed.
He’s alive though. The thought that he’s still alive is the only thing that gives Twilight enough strength to pull out the cork of his jar and shove the opening to Wild’s lips.
Wild chokes as the liquid enters his mouth, but Twilight doesn’t let up. It’s preferable to drink red potions, but when it comes to drastic situations like this, just getting it in the injured person's body is enough to save their lives. Wild coughs through the liquid and writhes in Twilight's arms, and it’s all Twilight can do to keep the bottle there and shakily whisper every comforting word that he knows. Eventually, color returns to Wild’s cheeks, and his eyes blink open blearily as his choking turns into instinctive swallows.
When the contents of the bottle is gone, Twilight lets the glass jar fall to the floor as he now uses his newly freed hand to check Wild’s wound.
It’s still nasty, and deep, but no longer life threatening. Another potion or some stitches and Wild will be as good as new. For the first time in what feels like years, Twilight allows himself to breath out a sigh of intense relief.
“Twi…?” Wild asks, voice incredibly small.
Twilight holds him just a little tighter, willing his heart to calm down. He’s almost… he’s come so close to almost losing-
“Who did this to you?” Twilight demands with a bite to his tone that he doesn’t mean to direct at Wild.
Wild doesn’t react to it though. He just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It… doesn’t matter…” he replies in a whisper. Twilight feels anger swell in his stomach and he almost argues back, but Wild talks more despite how much it must still hurt. “Later,” he says. “’M hurt, wanna sleep. Deal with… it later.”
Twilight takes a deep breath, counts to five, then lets it out. He doesn’t feel any less upset. However, he keeps his voice level, deciding that arguing with Wild here will just upset the boy more than help him.
“Okay,” he agrees reluctantly. “I’m going to carry you, okay? I’m out of potions, but Wars or Hyrule should be nearby with some of their own. Then we can go get a well deserved sleep.”
Wild simply nods and relaxes into Twilight’s arms, breathing a sigh and closing his eyes. Twilight bites his lip, then resolves himself to hold one of his dearest friends close to his chest as he stands up. There’s blood everywhere, staining his hands, his tunic, his boots, his pants. But he got here in time. Wild will be okay.
That’s all that matters now. Once Wild has all his color back and his stomach no longer has a hole in it… then Twilight can make sure whoever did this regrets being born.
“I got you, kid,” he says, “I got you.”
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