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#and once again as always feel free to ignore
kimetsu-chan · 23 hours
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hi, so it says that all requests are closed, and I’m assuming that means emergency requests too..? Because it’s ‘ALL’
But when they open could you write a Muichiro comfort fic for me…? So basically what’s happening is that I’ve been feeling extremely suicidal, and depressed. I came out as a therian to my mom, she’s been very unsupportive and called me mentally unstable and not developed, a Therian/otherkin is a person who identifies as a non-human animal on a psychological or spiritual level based on animilastic urges and/or behaviours…. And I’ve just been having really bad dreams and thinking a lot about my past how my father abused and almost killed my mom, got her into a coma, and I would think of running away and thought it was my fault. My father sexually harassed me. I have anxiety, think I’m annoying, hate myself stuff like that.
so why I’m in need of a Muichiro comfort fic is bc every night I draw marks on my wrist ok, and so every night I try cutting it, each night trying to go deeper or hold down the knife longer…
so that’s why maybe when requests open I was wondering if you could write one for me…
Thankyou for reading this all… have a nice day☺️ and feel free to ignore me I’m used to it! <3
~Not Tonight~
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A/N: first of all, I am incredibly sorry for the miscommunication, emergency requests are open, I should’ve conveyed that better. Secondly, I am extremely saddened to hear of what has happened to you :( it’s not something you should deal with. I hope that this could be the comfort you need, and I apologize if it is not on par with what you require right now. Please take care of yourself <3
TWs ⚠️: sh will be heavily implied in this fic, along with thoughts of suicide being mildly implied, please do not read if such topics are uncomfortable or triggering.
This takes place after he regains his memories
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It was extremely odd, the way you wore the longest sleeves even in the hottest weather, it perplexed Muichiro.
He didn’t understand why, but then again, he had trouble understanding the purpose of most things.
At first, he didn’t pay much mind to it, maybe it was a sense of comfort? But he saw the way you were always on the edge of passing out from the heat, and how… unsettlingly empty your eyes were.
He watched as you trained, standing idly in the shade. He had been taking a water break and decided to watch you tiredly swing your training sword.
His chest tightened painfully, and he looked down at it with confusion. He immediately associated the uncomfortable feeling with looking at you in your exhausted state. Was he concerned? Surely no, you were a subordinate. But you were his subordinate, and he used that to justify why he was worried.
Muichiro kept a steady eye on you for the next week or so, the borderline painful feeling of concern popping up at least twice a day.
You looked exceptionally worse today, more so than normal. You had collapsed due to your body not being able to withstand the unbearable heat any longer. Of course, in a fit of worry, he rushed to your side, quickly checking for a concussion or any other injuries.
The boy frowned down at you as he held your head up, and that was the most expressive you’d seen him in a while.
“[Name], I told you this would happen, you need to dress appropriately for training..!”
He reached to roll your skin-tight sleeves up but was halted by a sharp “no” from you.
Needless to say, he did not listen, proclaiming your safety was far more important, so of course he saw. He found out, and you were worried if he’d be disgusted with you.
But when he looked in your eyes once more, his gaze was devoid of disgust or disappointment. His eyes stared at you with worry and guilt and confusion.
You could see it in his eyes, the silent ask of “why” of why you felt the need to do such things to yourself.
Without thinking, you provided a short explanation, you told him when you did it, why you did it, and how bad the thoughts were getting.
It only aided in the shattering of his heart.
How could he have been so oblivious…? Could he have provided help if he had noticed sooner?
No, there was no use in beating himself up for what he didn’t do, he needed to make sure that you stopped. He vowed to you that day, that he’d pay better attention, stay with you when you needed it, help you whenever you relapsed, and anything more you could possibly need.
As he spoke, his eyes began to tear up against his will. He held you closer, trying to appear strong for you because you needed the comfort.
He didn’t want to lose you, especially not to yourself, he needed you…. So with a shaky voice, he uttered a few words as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Not-… not tonight, please…”
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A/N: I urge and encourage you to seek advise and help from a therapist if you have the comfort and means to do so, once again, I am so sorry for everything that has happened to you. I sincerely hope this can bring you even the slightest sliver of comfort, and I hope you recover from any and all thoughts quickly :( <3
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allylikethecat · 5 months
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January OTP Prompts
Day six lets go! I very much considered not completing this one because I was tired and wanted to read my book but I'm very happy I forced myself to power through!
Warnings: References made to drug addiction / rehab, and declining mental health
6. Lonely
George didn’t know what day it was. He didn’t know what time it was or how much  time had passed. The sun had risen and set at least twice, sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains, stinging his eyes. It  caused him to curl further in on himself, burying his face under the blankets as if he could bury the bone crushing loneliness he felt alone in a bed bought for two. He knew that Matty was sick, he knew that Matty was getting the help that he so desperately needed. But that didn’t mean that George wasn’t hurting too, an ache deep in his chest. The fear that somehow this was his fault, that Matty would come back, healed and whole and see just how broken, just how toxic, George himself was.
George should have been better. He should have noticed that Matty was sick, that he was getting worse, and succumbed to the thrall of addiction. But he liked it when Matty smiled, and Matty had started smiling more, things that would have sent him spiraling now rolling off his back like water off a leaf. He knew Matty had lost weight, he would have been blind not to see it, but Matty brushed him off citing the stress of tour and smiled assurances that I’m fine George, really.
George wondered if he just hadn’t wanted to see it, hadn’t wanted to disrupt the carefully balanced equilibrium that they had reached. He wondered if he was selfish, too worried about disrupting his own fragile mental health that he allowed Matty to put his life at risk. He felt like he had put Matty’s life at risk. And now here he was, making things about himself. Matty was gone, shipped off to rehab for the next who knew how many weeks were left, screaming and sobbing as Jamie herded him onto the chartered plane, begging George not to make him go, not to send him away. And now here George was, alone, laying in the bed they had picked out together, swaddled in the sheets he desperately needed to change but couldn’t bring himself to, the cotton still smelt like Matty. 
George had never done well on his own. Everyone saw Matty and assumed he was the extrovert, that he was the one that thrived off of human companionship. They didn’t see that Matty was just as content alone with a cigarette, they didn’t see that George was the one that felt as if the loneliness would kill him. He felt pathetic even thinking it, not daring to even breathe the words aloud. But he was, he was lonely. He was lonely without Matty’s slender form tucked against his side in their bed. He was lonely without Matty moving throughout their home, bumping into things, knocking things over, causing a general ruckus as he hummed to himself, always making noise, always bringing life into the now dismal space. Matty wasn’t just George’s other half, he was the one thing that kept him from feeling broken and alone. 
Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
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deityofhearts · 5 months
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I think the worst part is that i still love and care about people even when it hurts and i wish i didn’t
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isfjmel-phleg · 9 months
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(
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taegularities · 2 years
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.
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chryzuree · 8 months
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mistress luck is chrysi’s oldersister/mother figure and gavriel is chrysi’s awful horrible terrible evil father figure that’s trying to kill her, and scarlett’s her little sister, and tella’s, like. in a weird stepsister / ex-wife to chrysi’s husband situation.
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kenntolog · 1 month
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𝝑𝝔 an: cool bf sukuna and loser gf set in college or uni is a dream for me cuz im the loser yk :(( also if you have thoughts on this concept or wanna share anything else feel free to do so!!
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cool boyfriend sukuna with a loser girlfriend!!
whenever you make a lame joke sukuna’s only reaction is to place his whole palm over your face and push it away as he just leaves. you can only whine and trail after him with a sheepish smile, knowing that he doesn’t really mind from the way he looks over his shoulder to check on you.
you utter something extremely dumb and sukuna thinks it’s his duty to hit you on the back of your head with a roll of his eyes, causing you to groan in pain and rub the spot with a sniffle. if he feels like he hit a little too hard he will tug you into himself and place a kiss on that spot with a quick apology, the corners of his lips quirking up when you beam at his words.
you’d make an exaggerated reaction to something and he is always there to mock the hell out of that small moment, ignoring your whines of how he’s not funny. when your hand pinches his forearm he stops and looks at you with a scowl, and you better run because sukuna will give back tenfold, no hesitation. though he will soothe the spots with rubs later that night because he is a softie like that.
he also likes to make you trip with his foot, he likes to hug you a little too tight so that it hurts and you start whining, he likes to tug at your hair whenever he gets a chance, he likes to shake the table to mess up your writing, likes to take your phone away from you and run to make you chase him because he knows you hate running.
sukuna is such a menace to you and you still love him and hang around and he adores it.
+ bonus!
imagine seeing other girls flirting with him when you’re about to approach him in the hallway, and sukuna notices from the corner of his eye how your mood cartoonishly changes from sun to a rainy cloud, shoulders slumping in defeat as you turn to go back and sukuna can’t help rolling his eyes as he pushes the girls away and catches up to you with rushed steps.
“what’s with the sour face?” he nods his chin with a smirk, knowing exactly what’s up.
you shake your head with a pout, looking down at your feet, and continue walking, but sukuna once again just rolls his eyes and quickens his pace to stop in front of you so you stumble into him. he makes sure that the girls from before see him clearly before he his fingers close around his cheeks and bring your face closer to place a soft kiss on your lips.
with wide eyes and a distressed expression, you stare at him in disbelief and sukuna can only shake his head at how cute you are before his face returns to his usual annoyed one, hand lifting up to flick your forehead roughly.
“ow! ‘kunaa~ what was that for?!”
“tsk,” he kisses the spot, hand on the back of your head to keep you close, “that’s for being dumb.”
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mysicklove · 6 months
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cw: sub! megumi, dom! gn! reader, overstimulation, handjobs (as always), dacryphilia, slight sadism in reader, slight masochism in megumi? teasing, "good boy" used once.
wc: 1.3k
a/n: i have been recently hating my writing style guys what do I do </3 also I did this instead of hw so tonight is gonna suck.
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“waitwaitwaitwait!” megumi mumbles into your neck for the third time this night. you feel another round of tears drip onto your collarbone, and shaky hands grip your t-shirt in a plea. he was naked — his pale skin seeming to flush a shade of red, and his spine was curved as he caved in over himself.
your thumb circles around the tip, teasing it until you watch another glob of precum bead at his slit. you crane your neck to look at him, using your free hand to tilt his chin up to press a small kiss to his lips. “doing so good,” you mumble into his mouth, and he lets out a broken sob, “staying still and taking it. we don’t need any rope today.”
his whole body feels to be on fire, and with every stroke of your hand, a whole new wave of overstimulation forces another shiver. the boy's mouth hangs open, lip glistening from a mix of saliva from your mouth and tears. “you’re so mean to me."
“poor thing,” you coo, knowing that you aren't going to do anything about his complaint. instead, you use your thumb to brush away some tears. he sniffles at you, nodding his head to hopefully coax some more praise. but your mind travels back to your movements, your wrists twisting back and forth as you focus on the red tip. “but you look so cute like this, i can’t help it, y’know that.”
his head falls back onto your shoulder, and immediately, he plants kisses on your neck, nibbling at the skin to try and distract himself. the top of his dark hair was matted with sweat, but the tips of it tickled your collarbone. you use your thumb to rub at his cheek as you continue to stroke him off, ignoring his sporadic jerks of pain. “can you cum again? just one more time, for me?”
the noise megumi lets out is meek, pathetic even, and he shakes his head into your chest. he has begun to hiccup from the intensity of his sobs, and his hand hasn't moved from gripping fiercely at your shirt. "last one," he breathes, rubbing his nose into your skin, "p-promise its the last one!"
you grab his face again with one hand and begin to pepper it with kisses, successfully wiping away more tears as he whines with shut eyes. his eyelashes are globbed together, and when he opens them again, he narrows them at you, slightly peeved and scared at your lack of response. "promise," he manages to get out before he bites his lip from you rubbing your pointer finger over his slit.
"fine, fine, I promise," you concede, and your hand stops teasing him, instead fully pumping him from base to tip. the act makes his thighs tremble, and you push them slightly more apart to give you easier access. the redness of his cock contrasts his pale skin adorably, and you can't help you're staring as he continues to leak.
"it hurts," he whimpers, mostly to himself, because all he can think about is how overwhelmed he feels. his thoughts are spinning, and even just the slightest touches on other parts of his body seem to startle him due to him focusing his entire attention on trying not to rip your hand off of his cock.
you don't pay attention to the whine, instead just pressing more kisses to his flushed cheeks, nibbling gently at the flesh while he sniffles. but, even with all the complaints and whines he was letting out, you've noticed that his hips have begun to buck back into your hand, only making the lewd noise louder. he tries to pretend that it was you who was torturing him, but his movements were of his own free will.
"you like it now?"
"no!" he says much too quickly, flashing you panicked eyes. "i-i just. 's not my fault!" at this point, you have fully stopped your movements just to watch in admiration of the boy. he was desperate in his movements, and with each thrust of his hips into the makeshift hole a coo leaves your mouth.
"aw, look, now you're getting excited. do you want to cum, megumi?" you purr, brushing his bangs back while twisting your other wrist. his eyes roll back, and his mouth remains open as he lets out quick, short breaths. now, his noises consisted more of moans rather than pained whimpers as he started to chase his high.
"n-no—yes. fuck I-" is all he manages to get out before your mouth is pressed onto his. but he pulls away only five seconds later due to his rapid heartbeat and the need for oxygen to keep up with it. you just chuckle at him and increase your speed, eyes flickering from the sight between his legs and his flushed face.
his thighs begin to squeeze shut, and his moans begin to increase in pitch, a telltale sign that he is teetering near his high. you chuckle at him when he begins to latch onto your neck, planting sloppy kisses to whatever surface he can. "are you close?"
he doesnt even attempt to speak, instead just nodding his head lazily. the act makes you roll your eyes and squeeze just a tad too hard on his dick in warning. he lets out a squeak at the feeling, and this time he does speak up. "yeah. yes. yes. c-close."
you pet his head, satisfied with his answer. "good boy. you can cum, alright?"
another set of tears pools in his eyes, and this time you cock your head to the side. "why are you crying 'gumi? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"
"no," he sniffles, "sorry d-dont stop. feels good, don't know why I'm crying. just don't stop!"
"relax. relax. I'm not," you reassure, kissing his face again. "you're lucky you are so cute, with all your demands."
he ignores you like he usually does when you tease him, but you are unsure if it is because he is being his usual self or because he is lost in pleasure.
seconds later, his hands grab at your shoulder, and he goes silent for a breath. then, just as the first rope shoots out, he cries, "cuming! of fuck. fuck!"
your lover's entire body quivers, and his mouth latches into your skin as the first wave washes over him. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open with a silent scream. more tears come tumbling down his face, and you watch as the most pathetic amount of cum tonight comes dribbling out. it slides down his flushed cock and mixes with the movements of your hands.
eventually, when he comes down from his high and feels the stinging lick of overstimulation once again, he immediately forces your hand off, pinning the white-stained limb to the ground with frantic eyes. then he turns to you, even with his body jerking every couple of seconds from the aftershock, and glares at you — it doesn't hold much effect, considering his cheeks were flushed red and eyelashes were wet with tears, but it was cute nonetheless. "no. more."
you grin at the demand and use your clean hand to ruffle his hair. "your wish is my command, princess."
he narrows his eyes at the nickname, and the man tears himself from your arms. "I am going to shower," he mumbles before using all of his strength to stand up. he takes a step forward, and immediately he comes tumbling down.
megumi pretends he doesn't see the way his legs are trembling, but you see the way his ear twinged red in humiliation. you, of course, use it to your advantage. "need a little help there, Bambi?"
"you're not allowed to touch me for a week," he grumbles but grabs onto your arm and lets himself be left to the bathroom. it was an empty threat, as they usually are.
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kentopedia · 6 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI
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fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words
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“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 
he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 
cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.
he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.
“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.
“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 
a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 
“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."
normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 
levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”
you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 
levi makes his way towards the door. 
“levi?” 
he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 
but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 
you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 
he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
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within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 
he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 
no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 
levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 
their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 
his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 
“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.
armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”
levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 
he should've known.
“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.
“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."
levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 
“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”
eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 
or so he thought, anyway.
historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 
“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”
levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.
eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 
it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 
“how long have you been together?”
“does she actually like you?” 
“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 
“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 
“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 
"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 
“five—” 
a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.
levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.
even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.
he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.
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fangswbenefits · 11 months
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Side Effect
Summary: Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Feral Miguel. Rutting Miguel (side effect of the serum he takes). HEAVY breeding kink. Creampie. Fangs. Hormonal manipulation (mention of serums being injected).
You paced hurriedly through the long corridors of HQ determined to get an answer.
A proper one.
If Miguel O’Hara was growing tired of your casual relationship with him, he’d have to tell that to your face instead of avoiding you.
This had been going on for a couple of days, and you patience was now hanging by a thread. You had tried to reach him through your watch, but he’d either ignore you, or have Lyla come up with ridiculous excuses.
“Visiting Peter and MJ my ass,” you grumbled under you breath, your paces echoing loudly.
The moment you were met with the lab door shut, you stopped dead in your tracks.
That was weird.
“What?”
Approaching the scanner on the wall, you reached out your arm, allowing the sensor to read your dimensional travel watch.
<ACCESS DENIED>
That was really weird.
You flicked your wrist again, but were met with the same message.
This had to be Miguel’s poor idea of a joke, because it made no sense that he’d restrict your access to the very place you worked at.
Letting out a strained breath, you tapped on your watch, hoping to reach Miguel.
But it was Lyla’s orange hologram that emerged instead.
“What’s up, sugar?” she beamed happily, filing her nails.
You scowled. “I was calling Miguel.”
“He has redirected every contact to me,” she shrugged, checking each nail individually.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why can’t I get in?”
“That’s classified.”
“Classified?”
She nodded with an obnoxious smile that only served to grind your nerves. “I work here.”
“So does Miguel and he is working now,” she said with another shrug.
Anger flared inside you as your worst fears were confirmed.
He was avoiding you in particular.
“Can you just open the door?”
“No.”
“Please?”
Her eyes narrowed behind her heart-shapped glasses. “No.”
“I really need to talk to him.”
Adjusting her long coat, she clicked her tongue. “I can pass him a message.”
That wasn’t good enough and he would just ignore it as usual.
“Lyla…” you started, putting on your most convincing fake smile with an equally forced sweet voice to match. “You know I’ve always like you, right?”
The AI scoffed. “Nah, flattery doesn’t work on me, sugar. It wasn’t programmed into my coding,” she grinned deviously. “But you’re free to suggest that Miguel adds it in a future patch.”
You shot her a death glare. “Fine. Just… tell him I’m here and… yeah…” your voice trailed off.
She winked. “Gotcha!”
The hologram disappeared at once and you were left staring at the large metal door in front of you.
You waited for a couple of minutes, before realising she wasn’t coming back with an answer, as you had expected.
A random thought crossed your mind when your eyes landed on the scanner, reminding you that there was another way in.
Miguel would probably get really angry that you were about to activate the emergency protocol, but you couldn’t care less at this point.
Tapping the pattern onto the pad above the scanner, you couldn’t help but to feel victorious as the door swung open, alarms blaring and a mechanical voice echoing through the lab.
“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”
You only made it a few steps past the door, before something — or rather someone — flung you across the room with the weight of their body keeping you pinned against a wall.
A muscled forearm was at your throat, effectively caging you in.
“What the fuck?”
“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”
The red alarm lights rotated hurriedly on the ceiling, but you were able to identify Miguel, as his weight dug further into you.
“What are you doing here?” he growled, the eyes on his mask narrowing menacingly.
Something wasn’t right.
Your spider senses detected an alarming accelerated heart rate from him, as well as increased body temperature.
“Miguel, let go! It’s me,” you grunted, clawing at his arm to alleviate the pressure.
“I know it’s you,” he said lowly, the digital mask vanishing.
From the corner of your eyes you saw him baring his fangs, droplets of paralysing poison dripping.
His pupils were fully blown and you felt fear rise inside you. “What are you doing?!”
As if your voice had managed to snap him out of it, he eased the pressure on you and took a few steps back.
“Lyla, deactivate the emergency protocol and resume the serum synthesis.”
“Got it, Miguel!”
The alarm was turned off immediately and silence took place.
Your breath was coming out in shallow pants, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
Was he that angry that he had gone completely feral?
“Miguel… what…”
He turned his back on you and paced to a nearby centrifuge, the screen atop announcing: <DNA stabilising sequence at 24%>
What was he doing?
“Leave.”
“Can we just talk?” you said, still keeping your distance. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but barring my access-“
Miguel turned around to face you, a deep scowl had settled on his face, twisting his lips.
The glare he gave you was enough to send shivers down your spine.
“I need you gone. Now.”
Fuck. Was he that over you that he couldn’t even stand your presence around?
He had shortened the distance between you two, crimson eyes never leaving yours.
“Why? If you don’t want to be with me just say that,” you groaned in frustration. “Don’t stare at me like you’re about to split me in half. It won’t work.”
Miguel had effectively managed to have your back hit the nearby wall once more, just from the weight of his stare alone.
“I told you to leave. I can’t have you around me.”
“Oh, great!” you scoffed. “Thanks for being so direct.”
Miguel didn’t stop moving until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I don’t. We’re both adults, so you could have just said this a couple of days ago instead of acting like I’m some nuisance.”
His hand came to grip your jaw and you widened your eyes. “You’re on birth control, right?”
“What…”
He took a deep breath, fangs grazing his lower lip. “Answer me.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Wait… was he scared that he might have knocked you up?
His fingers loosened and he pressed his forehead to the wall right beside your head, groaning out loud.
“Miguel… what is going on?”
You wanted to him a comfort squeeze on his arm, but were too frozen to move.
“Why… why do you have to be on birth control?”
Was he pulling your leg? Was this his twisted version of a joke?
This time, you frowned. “What do you mean why? I don’t want to get unexpectedly pregnant.”
Miguel punched the wall with such force it dented the material and making you jolt.
“I’m rutting.”
Your eyes darted to his face as he straightened up, pupils still dilated and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
“What… rutting?” you asked, mouth dropping open in confusion.
He growled impatiently. “Side effect of my serum. I usually have an antidote at hand when this happens, but I ran out of one of the components…” he paused briefly as if struggling to breath properly. “I had to go to Peter B’s Earth to get more.”
Oh. So that hadn’t been one of Lyla’s ridiculous lies.
You glanced over at the nearby screen:
<DNA stabilising sequence at 34%>
Oh.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” you asked, wanting to bring him some comfort somehow. “We’ve been together for a few months.”
“It was never necessary. I always had the neutraliser for my serum at hand.”
You bit your lip.
He let out a low dark chuckle. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to breed you.”
This definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear from Miguel O’hara himself, and it made your heart skip a beat.
His arms were caging you, his talons digging deep into the metal right next to your head.
“Is… huh… is there anything I can do?” you asked in a whisper. “I mean… in the lab.”
He pressed his lower half into you at once. “Let me breed you.”
You flinched as his hard cock dug into your crotch and you let out a gasp.
“Can’t you just wait for the synthesis to be over?”
The sound of the metal being shredded tore through your ears and his lips nearly brushed yours. “I told you to leave, but you’re too stubborn, aren’t you?”
His breath was hot and you felt goosebumps rise throughout your body.
“Always running that mouth,” he growled, eyes landing on your lips. “Always defying me… and now I really, really need to breed you.”
For some twisted reason, his words and cock twitching against you were slowly swallowing your mind, causing you to abandon reason.
Miguel was a very dedicated lover, but you had never witnessed such yearning from him.
That was a novelty and it was doing wonders to your ego.
Even if there was a scientific explanation, you could help but plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “You can’t breed me… I’m on birth control.”
His hand came to grip your chin again and you saw anger flicker in his eyes. “There’s ways around that.”
Your eyes widened.
He wasn’t being serious…
… was he?
“Miguel…”
The grip tightened and he rolled his hips. “Let me. Please.”
You knew exactly what he was talking about. He had developed a serum that would neutralise all hormonal manipulation as a way to reset your body in case a spider needed to be injected with a serum.
You had helped him develop it.
Its efficacy neared 90%.
You guessed this neutraliser wasn’t able to prevent the side effects from his very specific serum.
And now he wanted to use it on you, so he could successfully breed you.
“Are you sure?” you asked, not sure why agreeing to this in the first place was sending such an adrenaline rush through your veins.
Miguel moved away from you, bolting to one of the desks, rummaging through the drawers.
You swallowed hard, but remained glued to the wall, heart hammering fast in your chest.
<DNA stabilising sequence at 41%>
In a blink of an eye, he was on you again, holding the syringe in his trembling hand. “I’m desperate, but I need your words first.”
You clenched and felt wetness spilling from you.
How was this so arousing?
“What words?”
He moved to place a quivering kiss to your forehead and you saw the liquid wobble inside the container.
“That’s… not the compound we synthesised.”
“It’s more than that,” he said with another kiss. “It stimulates your ovaries.”
Oh… fuck.
He trailed kisses down your face, before pecking your lips. “I have to breed you. Successfully.”
Your legs nearly gave out at his confession and you nearly moaned as he ripped your suit to gain access to your bicep.
“Tell me I can do this.”
His cock was nudging you again as a reminder of his desire, and you nodded.
“No. Say it.”
He was rubbing your skin with his thumb right where he intended to inject the serum.
“Go ahead.”
“Gracias,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your forehead.
At this point, you were far too drunk in lust to think clearly and your lips parted in a pained moaned as you felt a sharp jab in your arm. He kept his lips on you as reassurance, as the liquid tore through your muscle.
Your heartbeat skyrocketed straight away.
You felt your knees buckle under you, but Miguel steadied you with both arms. “I got you.”
A gasp quickly turned into a moan as the effect of the serum consumed you with each passing second.
He trailed his hands down your body and gripped your hips.
“Turn around.”
You let him guide you, biting down hard on your lower lip, you panties sticking to your soaked folds.
More ripping sounds filled the air as Miguel tried to get rid of your suit, exposing your underwear to him.
You balled your fists and felt one hand on your lower back, adding light pressure. “Bend over.”
Doing as commanded, you felt more wetness spill from you as your body readied itself for Miguel.
The pressure increased. “More.”
Your panties were torn apart right away and you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Miguel’s fangs peeking through his lips.
His thumb dragged along your folds, teasing your swollen clit and earning a whimper from you.
“Sorry, but I really need to be inside you,” he grumbled and you nodded.
Your heart skipped several beats, as you tried to control your breathing in anticipation.
The tip of his cock was soon pressed against your opening, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
“I’m sorry.”
Before you could inquire what he meant, your mouth fell open as he rammed inside you, bottoming out at once.
He didn’t wait for your to recover from the initial shock, and began pumping into you so ferociously, you had to grab a hold on the metal railing to your right to keep yourself from losing balance.
Miguel heaved a heavy sigh of relief as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this sensation.
Grunts and groans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.
“Should have bred you sooner…” he managed to say in between snaps of his hips. “Developed that serum just for you…”
Miguel’s idea of dirty talk was effective. Too effective, because you couldn’t hold back from clenching hard around him, savoring the friction and feel of being stuffed full of him.
He picked up the pace and you thought you were going to die.
Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was too overwhelming, and your body was responding to his in a way you had never experienced before.
You felt your lower abdomen coil at the sides and figured the serum had reached its target destination.
Miguel gripped both your arms and you let go of the railing, as he tugged hard to have your back smack against his hard chest.
“You’re so lucky this rut didn’t hit me harder,” he growled, hips never faltering. “I was barely able to control myself around you…”
Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned loudly, feeling his pectoral muscles press into your back. This man was too hot and you found yourself thinking that not being bred by him would be a waste.
That genetic material deserved to be spread.
“Being on birth control with me…” he said through gritted teeth, and you felt his fangs nipping your ear lightly. “You. Deserve. To. Be. Bred.” he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.
An intense wave of pleasure pulsated from your clit, and you recognised the familiar strings of an orgasm pulling you in and embracing you gentle with each stroke.
“Miguel…” you moaned, blinded by lust and desire.
The grip on your arms loosened briefly and he let your torso lean forward ever so slightly, angling your hips in a way that made him his cock hit you over and over again just where you needed the most.
“I want you full with my babies,” he gasped.
Your orgasm hit you with such force, you thought you were going to collapse and slide off his cock, but he wrapped one arm around you, not allowing you to part from him.
“You feel so good… tighter… tighter,” he urged, as your walls contracted around him rhythmically, faintly at first, but the next stronger than the one before.
You were far too gone to form any words and just let your lips part as an intense moan ripped through your throat.
Miguel was mumbling something behind you, but you couldn’t make out any words as you descended from your height.
Even through quivering legs and pulsing clit, you were able to feel it.
He was now pumping you full with broken snaps of his hips.
You glanced down and saw strings of cum dripping from where he was connected with you.
So much cum.
He wasn’t even slowing down, as he’d usually do at this stage.
Miguel kept on ramming into you from behind, sending more and more cum to drip from within you.
An animalistic growl left his mouth as he finally came to a halt, breathing hard.
He remained balls deep inside you, and you planted on hand on the wall to look in absolute awe at the cum dripping and dangling from your clit, a pool of it now at your feet.
“How did you cum so much?” you managed to say in between laboured breaths.
“I’m rutting, cariño. My body produces more,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.
You glanced to the screen nearby.
<DNA stabilising sequence at 100%>
“Maybe you can take the neutraliser now?
He slid his cock out of you halfway, before slamming it back, and you felt more cum spill out. “I don’t think so.”
Oh, you were utterly fucked.
In every sense of the word.
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hemmingsleclerc · 3 months
Text
My Husband ┃CS55
summary: Y/N attends her husband's home race but didn't expect to find the "popular" girl at her high school back in the day.
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The sun was seen over the Barcelona-Catalunya Circuit while the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place. Y/N, dressed in an elegant yet casual dress that perfectly combined glamor and comfort, strolled through the paddock with an air of confidence. Her husband, Carlos, was focused on preparations for the next race, leaving her free to immerse herself in the exciting atmosphere.
As she toured the different garages and hospitality areas, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia. The roar of the engines brought back memories of her teenager's years when she would never have imagined being there in the paddock. Yet here she was, the wife of one of the sport's most talented drivers.
The familiar murmur of voices interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see a group of people approaching her. Among them was a face from her past: a girl named Carla, who was once the queen bee of her high school. Carla's eyes widened in false surprise when she saw Y/N there.
"Well, well, if it's not little Y/N," Carla sneered, her tone full of mockery. "What brings you to the Spanish Grand Prix? Trying to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous?"
Y/N smiled, refusing to let Carla's comments get to her. "Oh, you know, I've always been an F1 fan. I thought I'd come and support my husband."
''Husband?, so after all you did get a boyfriend?, what a wonderful surprise!''
''Yes, yes I did Carla'' Y/N responded, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes.
Carla smiled and looked at her boyfriend, who was next to her. "Well, we're here because my boyfriend is a big fan. You probably know him, he was with us at school! In fact, today he met all the drivers. It's a dream come true for him."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar pattern of Carla trying to outdo her in any situation. "That's fantastic for him. I'm sure meeting the drivers was an unforgettable experience."
''So, is this your first race?''
''In fact no, I have attended several grand prix, although it's probably your first time, so enjoy it Carla!'' And just as she finished saying those words she turned around and walked away from that irritating situation.
The race came to life and Y/N continued to enjoy the event, doing her best to ignore the presence of her ''wonderful'' former high school classmates.
As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, Y/N once again found herself in the path of Carla and her boyfriend.
"Well, well, you again” Carla said with a forced smile. "Did you have fun watching the race, sweetie?"
Y/N sighed inwardly but maintained her composure. "Yes, it was thrilling. Excuse me, I need to find Carlos."
As she tried to walk away, Carla's boyfriend, Y/N's old crush from high school, stepped forward, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Y/N felt a wave of discomfort but remained polite. All she wanted to do was go to her husband and congratulate him on his incredible podium finish in the race.
Suddenly, the crowd around them buzzed with excitement as Carlos Sainz approached, his red racing suit adorned with sponsor logos. Carla and her boyfriend exchanged surprised glances.
"Carlos Sainz!" Carla exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Y/N couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Oh, I didn't mention it before? He's Carlos, my husband, sweetie."
Carlos, oblivious to the tension, politely greeted Carla and her boyfriend. When they noticed, Carla's forced smile faltered and Y/N took the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. She walked away from her, leaving behind a speechless Carla and a bewildered old lover.
''Thank God you showed up, I couldn't stand them for another minute''
''You okey mi amor?''
''I'll be better after the celebration for your great podium, cariño''
With their heads held high, Y/N and Carlos walked out holding hands, along with the shiny trophy, ready to have a great night.
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charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Sniff, sniff…. Woof.
Content: Voyeurism
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“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”
Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.
“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”
A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.
“Good talk.”
As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.
He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.
You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.
“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”
He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.
“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”
More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.
As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—
When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.
“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”
After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.
You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.
At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.
“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”
You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.
“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”
You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.
Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.
“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”
You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.
Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.
“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.
“My sister and her husband,” you reply.
“No husband of your own?”
You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”
Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.
“Dog?”
“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.
The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.
“He friendly?”
You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”
as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.
“Name’s soap, by the way.”
Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.
Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.
Soap looks like he’s hunting you.
Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.
As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.
“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”
You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?
“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”
You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.
“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.
He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.
“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.
He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.
“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”
“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”
“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.
“No, wait—”
Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.
“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”
“He almost took my bloody hand off!”
“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”
He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.
“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”
You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.
“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”
Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.
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lovverletters · 2 months
Text
ILLUSION˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
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❝IN WHICH ㅡ Your husband seems to have change for the better. Although is it really him? Or somebody else masquerading as your husband ❞
A/N : Unofficial comeback hihi !! I made this in 3 hours please don't judge my word vomit
T/W : bad relationship, mentioned of murder, not edited, yandere theme, twist at the end
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
[name] sighed for ninth time of the day, everything is going horribly for them.
Early this morning, they had accidentally burnt the breakfast they were cooking for you and their husband, Mauve. He did not take kindly to it and yelled at them before leaving for his work.
It only worsen as they had forgotten their lunch and had to work on an empty stomach while their less than pleasant boss chewed them up for their failing performances.
Then, their car broke down and had to be towed away while they went home on a cab with the world most unpleasant driver ever.
It felt as if the world was against them. Pinning them against the corner like a bully demanding for their lunch money.
Now, they sat at the dinner table staring at the food that's slowly growing colder as they waited for Mauve to come home. As the clock struck 10 and their husband was still not home, [name] sighed once more before cleaning up the table.
Despite their very best effort to avoid addressing the glaring issue of their crumbling marriage, [name] couldn't ignore it anymore.
Mauve and them hardly resembled a married couple, they don't spend time with each other due to clashing schedule and even if they were free, they'd much rather be alone than with each other. The two of them would bicker and argue over unnecessary stuff, don't even mention being physically intimate with each other. They're practically practicing abstinence.
[name] has been the only party making effort to keep the relationship going but Mauve was not doing the same.
It is clear as day that the spark and love they have had simply dried up.
" I should just divorce him at this point .. " [name] muttered before falling into a deep slumber.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
The next morning, they awoke to a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. [name] sat up in surprise at the smell and walking to the source of the wonderful aroma.
To their surprise for the second time, they sees Mauve flipping pancakes in his suit and ties. Upon hearing their approaching footsteps, Mauve turned over and greetes them with a smile.
" Good morning honeybun, I made pancakes for breakfast. Come take a seat " He plated the freshly made pancakes and placing it on the table.
Huh? Honeybun? Where did that come from?
[name] were puzzled at Mauve's odd behaviour. He glanced at them worriedly when he realised they had not yet taken a seat and had been standing at the doorway with a gaping mouth.
" What's wrong honeybun? Why are you standing there like you've seen a ghost " Mauve placed a gentle hand on their shoulder.
" Whㅡ what's the special occasion, Mauve? " they dumbly said.
" Hm? Don't I always makes us breakfast everyday? " He said, albeit a bit confused.
[name] blinked. Once. Twice.
" No? I'd always do the cooking " They replied with an equally confused face.
Mauve went silent before rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish smile.
" Ah, I don't? I was just messing with you honeybun~ "
They squinted their eyes at their ' husband ', feeling suspicious of his change of behaviour. Just yesterday he was yelling at them for burning his toast and today he's done a complete 180.
" You don't usually call me petnames either. What is up with you today? " They sat down on the chair and begun cutting up the pancakes.
Mauve closed his mouth once again and stayed silent, [name] could almost hear the cogwheels in his brain turning to form a response. After a while, he finally spoke with a deep sigh.
" Look. [name], baby. I've realised all these years I've been a dick to you and not treating your right " His voice quivered.
" Yesterday, I had an epiphany of sort and I don't want to lose someone as amazing as you, [name]. Will you give me a second chance in loving you? " He held their hand in a gentle grasp, his eyes reflecting his sincerity.
[name] was at a loss for word. They genuinely didn't expect to hear that from their husband. They were ashamed of the tiny flame that sparked within them at his words.
They were conflicted, however after contemplating for some time in their head. They finally made up their mind. [name] placed their own hand atop of Mauve's and gave him a gentle smile.
" I honestly don't know what happened to you yesterday but .. I'm willing to give us a second try to make it work " They said softly.
A grin broke out on Mauve's faceㅡ something they had not seen in years. He then pull them into an embrace and littered kisses all over their faces.
" Thank you, baby. Thank you so much " He happiky hummed onto their skin.
[name] couldn't help but grew flustered at his onslaught of affection. They were not used to it but it wasn't unwelcomed. They slowly reciprocated Mauve's hug and buried their face onto his shoulder.
Finally, something's going right for them.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
He almost felt bad for fooling [name] on thinking that their pathetic excuse of a husband could ever change.
For someone as successful as Mauve was, he is incredibly stupid for neglecting the most amazing spouse a person could ever wish for. Honestly, he felt his blood boils seeing [name]'s astonished reaction to him performing simple husbandry dutiesㅡ it shows that the bastard never treats his spouse right.
It disgust him greatly to be Mauve's döppleganger, to share the same likeness as him. But without it, he wouldn't be able to intervene and replaces him.
Nonetheless, he'd already removed Mauve's out of the picture. If there's one thing he doesn't regret is watching the light slowly dimmed from Mauve's eyes as he kills him.
Now, he shall fulfill his position as [name]'s husband, 'Mauve'.
THE END˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
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kingkatsuki · 4 months
Text
Emptying out my drafts in case Tumblr nukes me again.
Bakugou thinks you can barely take him, but the truth is he can barely take you.
Word Count: 1k.
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There’s something so patronising about the condescending coo Bakugou gives when he sinks his cock into you.
“Oh my poor baby. Is it too big?”
No matter how much he tries to prep your poor little hole for his thick cock, it’s futile the moment you feel the thick tip begin to bully its way inside you— and he knows it. A salacious smirk spreads across his cheeks as he slurps at your sopping cunt, spit mixing with your slick as he pumps two fingers inside you. Scissoring them in a feeble attempt to stretch you open for him, the calloused pads of his fingers catching against your pliant walls as his cock throbs between his thighs. Eager to feel the delicious stretch of your walls around him as he leaks pre against the soft fabric of his boxers.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” He rasps against your hole, nose pressed tight against your clit as he shamelessly breathes in the scent of you. His fingers quick to replace his mouth as he lashes his tongue against your clit, stealing more angelic sounds from your lips, “Could do this all damn day.”
Your fingers weave into his messy hair. Blonde now tinted an aging silver that only adds to his allure, the same shade sprinkled down to the thick stubble that graces his cheeks. The slight gruffness of it against your skin only leaves you writhing as your nails scratch against his scalp, causing Bakugou’s groans to vibrate against your slit.
“I know you’re close, princess,” He coos against your clit, sucking the poor innocent bud between his lips as a form of torture as you buck your hips. Trying to escape the intense sensation as he keeps you steady, a pawn for his pleasure as he fucks his fingers into you with more vigor. The crude sound of your slick echos around the room as he lures you towards your release, “I can fuckin’ feel you—”
And he’s right— he always is. The intense pleasure continues to swirl in your abdomen as the coil inside you tightens, your body no match for his touch. Crimson eyes stare up at you from between your thighs as he wills you to cum for him, desperate to draw out your release as he curls his fingers against that spot inside you that he knows will have you believing in heaven.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You can’t focus on anything else but the pure pleasure flowing through your veins as you teeter on the edge of your release, his touch unrelenting as he’s right there behind you ready to push you over.
“Katsuki.” You cry as you feel your release crash into you. Your walls clamping down around his thick fingers as your thighs begin to shake, trying to stop his unrelenting torture on your clit as Bakugou groans around the sensitive nub in satisfaction.
Pulling away from it with a satisfied ‘pop’ as a mixture of your slick and his split glistens against his chin, matted into his stubble as he gives you a cocky smirk. Shamelessly staring down between your thighs at the mess you made, as his spit drools between the curve of your ass and onto the sheets below. It’s debauched, depraved and yet it only seems to spur him on as he dips his thumbs into the hem of his boxers to tug them down. Freeing his leaking cock as it bounces before hanging downwards, and that familiar swirl of anticipation begins to ebb inside you once more.
Bakugou wraps his palm around himself, smearing the wetness of you from his fingers onto his length as he positions himself at your entrance. Ignoring the mess he made on the sheets beneath him as he drags his leaking tip through your messy folds, watching as it catches against your fluttering hole, still in the midsts of your climax.
“Shit, baby.” He groans at the feeling, repeating the motion as his pre mixes with the wetness of you, bumping your clit as he covers himself with your slick, “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”
And you know you are; the sheets beneath you sopping as they stick to your ass. Biting down on your bottom lip as he prepares himself at your entrance, eyes shamelessly watching as his bulging, neglected tip breaches the first rim of you. He steals the air from your lungs like he always does, the painful ebb not quite as painful as usual as he smirks knowingly. His thumb playfully flicks your clit as you buck beneath him, burying more of his length inside your pliant walls.
“What am I gonna do with you?” He coos, the cocky lilt returning to his voice as he watches your struggle, “Still too much for your poor little pussy? Even after all that—“
“No,” You pout pathetically, determined as always to have him balls deep. Your thighs tighten around his hips as you try to lure him forward, willing him deeper inside your warmth.
“No?” He mimics hubristically, tilting his head in question before leaning down to peck your pouty lips.
You’re always so obstinate to prove him wrong, pawing at his shoulders to try and pull him away from your warmth. Determined this time will be the time that he slips inside you like a glove— feeling your heartbeat pound through your core as Bakugou gives one harsh rut of his hips and buries himself inside you to the hilt. His balls snug against your ass as he watches your reaction with amusement, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head as you feel completely full.
“Thought you said you could take it, sweetheart.” He gloats, whilst unbeknownst to you, trying to ignore the way your walls cling to him so perfectly.
With age should come experience, but despite the fact that Bakugou is pushing forty you’re the only one that hes been with so intimately. The only person that feels like home— So you could argue this is all a front for the fact that he can’t control himself around you. He’s grateful you can barely take him, because he can barely take you.
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honeyhotteoks · 4 months
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lessons in intimacy (k.ys)
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summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.
note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol
warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome
pairings: yeosang x reader
genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???
word count: 14.5K
additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!
Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 
Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 
“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 
Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 
And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 
You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 
Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.
You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 
Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 
Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 
His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.
Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month
Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month
Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month
In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 
You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 
The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 
There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 
There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 
His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 
You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 
There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 
Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.
Guided masturbation and encouragement. 
There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.
You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 
The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 
“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 
You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 
“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 
Your breath comes a little more quickly. 
“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 
Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 
“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 
You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 
“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 
He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 
“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”
As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 
You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 
You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 
“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 
You smile again. 
“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 
The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 
He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 
You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 
“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 
Your chest thumps hard. 
“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 
Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 
“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 
You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 
“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 
“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 
A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 
“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 
Fuck. 
“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 
“Fuck,” You whisper. 
“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 
You’re nodding again. 
“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 
Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 
“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 
“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 
Your legs spread a little wider. 
He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 
“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 
You love him like this. 
“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 
You pull it back reluctantly. 
“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 
You comply immediately. 
“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 
You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 
“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 
You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 
“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 
Your breath catches. 
“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 
A moan bubbles up out of you. 
“Hands off.” 
Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 
“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 
You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 
“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 
You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 
“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 
You follow his instructions. 
“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 
You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 
“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 
You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 
“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”
Sweat drips down your chest. 
His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 
You don’t have to be told twice. 
“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 
A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 
“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 
“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 
Pleasure rocks in your gut. 
“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 
You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 
“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 
“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 
“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 
Pressure drops in your belly. 
“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 
It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 
“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 
You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 
You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 
“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 
He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 
“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 
The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 
Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 
“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 
The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 
“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 
Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 
“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 
You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 
“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 
He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 
It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 
“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 
For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 
“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 
You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 
“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 
You blush again. 
“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 
The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 
You are so, so fucked. 
After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 
You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 
You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 
It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 
You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 
When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 
You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 
To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 
The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 
You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 
When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 
“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 
Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 
“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 
Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 
You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 
You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 
You’re frozen. 
“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 
“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 
“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 
You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 
His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 
“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 
“Iced or hot?” He asks. 
Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 
“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 
“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 
You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 
He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 
“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 
He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 
“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 
“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 
“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 
You shake your head, “No, first time,” 
“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 
“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 
He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 
“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 
He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 
You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 
“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”
“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 
Blush creeps up your neck. 
“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 
“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 
“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 
“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 
It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 
“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 
“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 
He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 
“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 
“Seven,” 
“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”
He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 
“Tomorrow,” You nod. 
“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 
Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 
“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 
Yeosang.
“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 
“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 
You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 
Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 
“See you again,” 
He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 
With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 
Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 
The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 
On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 
Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 
He’s lovely. 
Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 
It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 
“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 
“The train,” You glance outside. 
His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”
“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 
“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 
“Oh,” 
“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 
Flirting, then. 
You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 
He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 
Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 
His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”
You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 
Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 
The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 
You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?
You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 
Do you tell him? Do you lie? 
Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 
On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 
“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 
“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 
He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 
You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 
“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 
“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 
“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 
“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 
You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 
“Recognized me?” 
“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”
“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 
“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 
He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 
It was so, so nice while it lasted. 
“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 
His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 
His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 
“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 
You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 
His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 
“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 
“Undrinkable?” You blink. 
“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 
“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 
“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 
“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 
He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 
“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 
“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.
“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 
He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 
“No,” You tell him firmly. 
“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 
“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 
He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 
“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 
“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 
“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”
“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 
“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 
“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 
“Oh,” You soften. 
“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 
You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 
He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 
“Right,” You murmur. 
“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 
“Anything,” 
“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 
“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 
He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 
“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 
He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 
You wait, your stomach in knots. 
“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 
“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 
“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 
“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 
“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 
“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 
“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 
“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 
“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 
You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 
You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 
He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 
“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 
A small smile appears on his lips. 
“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 
“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 
Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 
He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”
“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 
“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”
“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 
His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 
You nod again. 
“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 
It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 
“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 
He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 
You nod. 
“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 
You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 
He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 
“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 
He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 
“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”
He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 
“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”
“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 
“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 
He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.
“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 
“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 
“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 
“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 
He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 
He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 
He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 
His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 
When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 
“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 
“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 
“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 
“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 
“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 
He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 
“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 
“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 
You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 
“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 
“Right,” You blush darker. 
“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 
You nod quickly. 
One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 
You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 
“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 
The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 
“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 
“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 
He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 
You nod. 
“And the roleplay?” He asks. 
“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 
“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 
You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 
“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 
You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 
“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 
  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 
“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 
“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 
The button opens. 
“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 
Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 
You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 
“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”
“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 
He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 
You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 
He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 
“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 
You nod, “So good,” 
“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 
You’re close. 
“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 
“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 
“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 
“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 
“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 
“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 
He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 
You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 
He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 
“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 
“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 
A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 
“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 
His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 
“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 
“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  
Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 
He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 
His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 
“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 
You shiver, “Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 
“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 
As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 
“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 
“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 
“So come inside me,” You smile. 
The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 
You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 
“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 
“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 
He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 
“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 
“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 
“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 
“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 
You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 
“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 
“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 
“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 
“Yes,” You answer quickly. 
“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 
“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.
“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 
You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 
Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 
He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 
“So good,” You sigh.
“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 
“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 
“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 
“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 
“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 
“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 
“Soon,” He promises. 
You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 
“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 
“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 
A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 
“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 
The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 
It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 
“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 
“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 
“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”
“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 
He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 
“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 
Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 
He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 
“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 
He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 
You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 
He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 
You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 
A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 
  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 
“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 
“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 
You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 
“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 
You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 
“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 
You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 
“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 
“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 
“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”
“I don’t know how I did it,” 
He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 
He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 
“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 
“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 
“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 
“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 
“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 
“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 
He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 
Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 
“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 
You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 
“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 
He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 
You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 
“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 
You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 
He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 
You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 
“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 
You nod. 
“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 
You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 
He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 
His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 
“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 
He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 
“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.
“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 
“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 
“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 
“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 
“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 
“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 
Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 
His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 
“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 
“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 
“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 
“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 
“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 
“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 
“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 
He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 
You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 
He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 
“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 
All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 
He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 
Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 
“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 
You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 
You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 
“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 
He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 
The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 
“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 
With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 
“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 
“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 
It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 
“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 
“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 
He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 
“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 
“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”
“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 
“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 
A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 
“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 
Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 
“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 
“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 
“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 
Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 
“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 
You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 
“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 
“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 
He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 
“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 
“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 
You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 
He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 
“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 
Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 
You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 
“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 
“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 
“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 
You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 
“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 
The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 
“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 
Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 
You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 
“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 
Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 
Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 
It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 
Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 
“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 
He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  
You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 
You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 
“Hey,” He murmurs. 
“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 
He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 
“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 
“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 
“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 
He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 
“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 
“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 
You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 
He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 
“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 
“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 
“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 
“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 
“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 
Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 
“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 
You look up from the rippling water. 
“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 
You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 
“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 
“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 
“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 
“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 
Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 
“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 
“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 
“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 
“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 
You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 
“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 
“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 
He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 
“You like me,” You peck his lips. 
“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 
2K notes · View notes
personasintro · 3 months
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Romance Is Not Dead | jjk
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it’s valentine's day and you're single
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brother's best friend!jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (?)
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mentions of sex (it's mentioned quite a lot), reader's brother is kinda dick, alcohol usage, men (that deserves a warning alright), drunk people (it's a party), angst (?) honestly I'm not sure if there's any angst but it's a story with a few realistic topics that are kinda sad if you think about it, it's not your average fluff story lol
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+
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a/n: happy valentine's day! mind you this was supposed to be a short drabble like around 2k lol, I had no proper idea of where this will go and somehow I ended up with quite a long story haha. but I'm happy I got more into writing, I wasn't expecting writing this much. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them hehe. I rushed to post it so I could make it on february 14th. I don't know what even is this story but i hope you enjoy it hahah don't forget to like and reblog ♡
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“Argh! Who even invented Valentine's Day?”
The groan that leaves your mouth – or more like a loud complaint – rolls around the room, not stopping you from tossing your bag on the kitchen's table to show your annoyance more than actual anger.
“Hello to you too, sis.” Your brother throws a peace sign your way, not particularly fazed by the lack of greeting on your side.
From your peripheral vision you could easily tell they're right there. Your brother and his best friend have been best friends since high school, they go way back and somehow, they've managed to stay super close till now. It's quite admirable, you have to admit. You don't think you've ever seen or heard them fight. Overall, their friendship seems to be more relaxed in this sense than most girls' friendships.
Yes, that mostly happens between guys. They're not as dramatic or bitchy as some girls can be. God. None of your current friends are your friends from high school. You've parted ways eventually.
However, the amount of drama free that's clearly not present in their precious brotherhood is equalized with loud burps, unfiltered talks about girls and sex through male eyes. You would've mentioned farting but luckily, you haven't heard your brother's best friend to be that nasty in front of you. Which can't be said about your brother but well, that's a part of having a sibling – regardless of their gender.
It's quite cliché.
Your brother's older, therefore he's protective yet loves to embarrass you at any chance. He thinks he's all that and sometimes, it feels like he thinks he's your third parent. That's what's more annoying – perhaps even more than overrated Valentine's Day. 
“Did someone decline you on Valentine's Day?”
There he goes again.
Teasing you. It's a never-ending circle. Luckily, you've grown resistant to his pathetic attempts to embarrass you – especially when his friends are present. Yeah, your brother can be a dick and you're not afraid to tell him.
Though, you don't stick to the names and curses and instead turn it into something more powerful. 
Scoffing, you swipe your hair back and give him a look. “Please, look at me.”
“I am, that's why I asked.” 
You waste no time in grabbing one of the stupid empty cans he always has laying around and throw it at him. Did you mention he can be a pig sometimes?
Your aim has gotten way better throughout the years and when he curses at you once it hits the side of his head, you smile happily. His friend chuckles at the two of you, lifting the can that has fallen onto the floor and sets it on the table.
“Yeah, and that's why you chase every man that comes my way.” you comment, knowing well damn you're right. 
He frowns, “Those men can hardly be called men, sis.”
“Well, bro, I wouldn't know since you like to be the pain in my ass.” you smile at him tightly, seeing him looking before he goes back to playing one of his stupid video games. “Not that I have a man to look up to in the first place.”
They've been doing that a lot. Lame. 
His best friend's snort turns into a laughter that he barely gets to hold in. That makes you smile because you see it as a success in getting back at your brother. And perhaps your little crush you've had on him has something to do with it. But we don't talk about it.
Your brother glares at him but he's not affected, not even a bit. It's hard to put it into words or make any definition, but he's always been slightly more… intimidating? He has an aura around him that makes you appreciate even a little reaction from him. 
It's humorous. You've known him for years, merrily just from always seeing him next to your brother (because there were never other opportunities), yet it feels like you barely know anything about him. Even though he used to occupy your living room almost every day. And today doesn't feel much different. The only difference is that none of you live at your parents' house. 
“Who hurt you today?”
“Don't be a dick. I can be a bitch too.” you remind him sweetly, leaning forward against the kitchen counter and grab a grape that lays in a single bowl. Probably the only healthy thing he has in this kitchen. 
He flips you off and frowns once he doesn't win the game. Karma. “Anyway, are you gonna tell us why you came here so annoyed or you're gonna eat?”
“I can do both,” you shrug. “I just don't get the hype about Valentine's Day.”
“Oh, you asked who invented it? Probably a pair of groupies in love.”
You roll your eyes, “I don't think that's it.”
“It's about romance. It's romantic, sis.”
You snort, “And how would you know anything about romance?”
He chuckles cockily as if the next words he says is something to be proud about; “I don't. But the girl I fucked said something about it.”
“Ew!” you gag, stopping yourself from reaching for another grape. “You're gross sometimes.”
“You don't talk about sex with your friends? C'mon, it's normal.”
“Yeah, with my friends. Not in front of you.” you justify. 
“Jesus, we didn't have to hear that.” Your brother scolds you, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of you talking about sex. 
You sometimes make sex jokes in front of him just to mess with him. It's pretty funny and it never gets old. You don't do it often though, but perhaps you should. 
“I hear only you complaining.” you sign out, pointing out the obvious and for the first time since you've arrived, you give proper attention to his best friend. 
He's been awfully quiet. What's there for him to say anyway? You and your brother bicker most of the time, no matter how old you are. He's pretty much used to it by now. He just stuck to playing the game and other than cackling at your previous comment, he's been quiet. You hate that you're slightly annoyed by the lack of attention he gives you. Not that you're an attention seeker or desperate for his attention.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out he sees you as his best friend's little sister. Even though you're not as little as when he first met you. 
“JK is the last person who wants to hear your complaints.”
“Why don't you let JK speak for himself?” you question, a little edge to your tone as your brother huffs out, muttering something under his breath – obviously aimed at you.
“Chill out, you two.” he mutters, voice slightly deeper than you remember it even though the last time you've seen him was last month. It has a little rasp to it and you wish your eyes wouldn't glue to him automatically. 
He lays comfortably on the couch, man spreading with a game controller sitting in his lap while his big thumbs rest comfortably against the buttons. You might've mentioned you are not friends with people from a high school anymore, but you have friends. One who would kill for a moment to spend with your brother's best friend. Just to be in his close proximity.
Though, it's no secret he's not any better than most guys his age – including your own brother. In a weird way, you love your brother (even though you wouldn't probably ever say it out loud because he's a weirdo and he would just make fun of you), but you can easily tell he's not someone you would ever want to end up with. Personality and morally wise, of course. 
He surrounds himself with people with the same values, or the lack of. 
And perhaps, it's one of the reasons why you suddenly got annoyed because of today's day. February 14th. You're the type that simply brushes off any guy who comes your way that you don't have any interest in. There's no need for your brother. He's a dick and he chases the ones that might not be husband material, but they're hot and charming. You're not necessarily looking for a marriage. God. You're too young. You don't want to be the one that gets locked in a marriage with someone they just met. 
Definitely you don't want to get knocked up either. Fuck, they're so many scenarios that run inside your head. Ones you don't want to live in. 
Regardless of your current stance when it comes to your life and relationships, you're still romantic. All of your friends have dates today. Any other day or year, you wouldn't even think of it – but you've seen everything in the shape of a heart today. Not mentioning there's everyone kissing and hugging at every corner of the street. 
And you didn't get a discount on your cake because you were alone with no partner around. Who does that? That's discrimination!
Valentine's Day is overrated. Maybe you think that way because you're single. Have been for too long. And while you don't necessarily miss it, you kind of crave for someone's affection and touch. It's not even about sex. 
“Listen, we're having a party tonight. I wouldn't normally invite you–”
“Wow, thanks.”
He shoots you a glare again before he continues, “But seeing you so miserable, maybe you could come too.”
“Party? Is this another one of your gangbang parties?”
“I have never been a part of that, stop calling my parties that.”
“There are literally hundreds of people who are there to hook up.” you inform him.
He snickers, “That's like every party.”
You lift up your eyebrows, not quite believing him. It's like every party he hosts or is invited to. People his age make parties slightly less wild. Not that he's too old but still. He's acting and living too wild for his age. 
“I'm not hosting it.”
“Who is?”
“JK here.” His brother says, head motioning toward the man next to him. “I'm sure you don't mind that I'm inviting her.”
The said man looks at his brother, shrugging. “I don't.”
“Well?” Your brother looks back at you. “Are you coming?”
“Are you gonna chase everyone that comes my way? Y'know, my friends are all having dates and if I don't wanna spend tonight alone, I would rather have fun.”
“You're allowed to come. And yeah, probably I will.”
“You're a douche. I'm an adult, stop treating me like a child.”
Your brother sighs, already knowing what argument is about to come. It's about the same stuff every time. 
“I'm doing it for your own good. The people that are gonna be there, guys that are gonna be there are like us, sis.”
There's a certain softness behind his voice, though it still stays vigorous as if he's trying to get something through your thick head. You know all of that, though. You know he doesn't hang out with the best people. But they're just dicks. And they're thinking with dicks. But you can take care of yourself. Besides, he's going to be there as well. 
JK, or Jungkook like you refer to him in your head, briefly looks at you. But you spot it and stare at him as his eyes drift to your brother. “You can't protect her forever.”
“That's something an asshole would say.”
“I never said I'm not one. But let her have her fun.”
“You know what? Don't come. I don't want you there.” Your brother stands up and shoots you a glare before he walks away. 
God! He's such a dick!
JK chuckles and you realize you've been frowning this whole time. You hear the door slam close and you scoff. “He's such a child.”
You eye him with no embarrassment whatsoever, tracing all the tattoos he has gotten throughout the years. The white shirt fits his torso perfectly, even though it's oversized his muscles peak through. 
Your friend told you he's at the gym almost every day. It sure looks like that. 
He suddenly stands up and you straighten automatically, watching him make his way toward you but not before tossing the game controller on the couch. He stays on the other side of the table, reaching for one of the grapes while still staring at you. 
God. He's doing something purposely.
For the first time today, your confidence slightly falters but you do your best not to show it. You stare as he pops one of the grapes into his mouth and chews on it. 
“You're still invited. That's if you still wanna come.”
You blink, “But my brother–”
“Is like a child sometimes. You're gonna be fine there.”
Gulping, you mutter; “How are you so sure?”
He doesn't answer but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. “You would still come, wouldn't you? Just to piss him off.”
That causes you to let out a soft chuckle because yes, he's right about that. Your brother needs to understand you're not a child. “I would.”
“Alright, then come.”
You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and lift your brow, “I will.”
You will go to the party. Even if your brother would burn down the city.
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One of the few things you've learned about your brother's best friend – Jungkook – is that he comes from a wealthy family. You know he got his own place in the city center, that alone tells you he's got money. Whether they come from his parents or by his own hard work is unknown to you. Either way, it's quite clear he's always been slightly privileged than most kids your age.
You've never been to his parents' house. There was never a reason for you to go there, plus, you're not your brother and he didn't exactly bring his little sister with him whenever he went somewhere. The only time he would have to spend time with you alone was when he had to babysit you. But you would always stay home and he would let you know how annoyed he is because of that.
A typical teenager who wanted to chase girls and experience his first hook-ups rather than having to babysit his little sister who was born with sharp tongue and big mouth. You're probably his karma for all the hearts he already managed to break. 
Anyway – you know JK's parents' house is settled up the hill, away from the city and in a rich area where all the big houses were built. You've never seen it, hence your first reaction when you spotted a huge gate and a house that looks more like a mixture between mansion rather than a small family house.
Before he parted ways a few hours ago when you last saw him, he gave you the address. Seems like you've arrived just in time. There are many people, outside and inside – everywhere. It looks like the college parties you get to see in movies but more upgraded.
The thing about you is that you would never go to a party alone. Even if two people you know are here. Well, your brother still doesn't know you're here and he's about to get pissed once he sees you. Suddenly, the idea to piss him off doesn't seem so alluring.
But this house – or mansion or whatever this building is called – is the only place that is not filled with heart balloons. They might be couples and strangers that are glued to each other, the romance is simply not present. It's nasty and explicit to a certain extent. 
A part of you is disgusted at how easy some people seem to be, letting themselves to be groped by strangers, but there's something alluring. Perhaps even more than doing this just to prove a point to your brother. 
You don't get a chance to look around the place, since it's crowded and you're trying not to get shoved into, you're looking for a bigger space and maybe something to drink. You make it into the main room it seems. A huge couch in the shape of U looks massive but it fits into the big room perfectly. There are people everywhere and there's not a single space on the couch. However, once you make it closer and spot a tiny space, it's all forgotten and your vision naturally travels to the couple sitting there. 
You would spot those tattoos everywhere.
Jungkook's there. And a woman sitting on his lap as you see them making out explicitly, tongues brushing against each other. Alright, a part of you envies the woman but looking around and seeing more of them staring in slight irritation and jealousy, you're not alone. You scrunch your nose at them not caring and just making out with each other in front of everyone. There's no way they don't know everyone's eyes are on them. The guys ignore them though. It's mostly women.
The one that sits on his lap and seems to be ready to jump his bones, is wearing a tiny top and mini skirt. You can see her panties and you feel embarrassed to witness the tiny piece of underwear. Well, she doesn't seem to care.
His hand is on her waist, gripping it tightly as he pulls away and mutters something into her lips. She giggles, all her attention focused on him. 
Despite knowing him for years, you've never seen him in this element. And maybe that's what your brother didn't want you to see. Not even Jungkook but everyone here. You've witnessed a few parties, but this one is completely on another level. It looks straight out of a movie and perhaps completely out of your comfort zone. 
But you don't leave. You stick in your spot and just stare at your brother's best friend flaunting his charm all around him, but mostly aimed at the woman on his lap. 
Since your brother that eventually came out of the bathroom told you to get out, you've decided to come after all and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe not exactly the same but that's why you chose one of your tight dresses. They're not special. Just a dress that almost every woman owns. But this one has thin straps and you don't get to wear a bra in it, that's how tight it is. It's the only clothing you're wearing, minus the panties of course. 
You look good. You know you do and that's why you chose this outfit particularly. You thought the heels are perhaps too much, but luckily you opted for them instead of your sneakers. Everyone seems to be dressed like they're in a club. Not even one outfit on a woman here looks completely comfortable. And they show more skin when they wear clothing. Not that you're judging. You're not the one to talk.
And you know this choice of clothing is not only a magnet for eyes, but for unwanted touches you were counting on eventually. It's sad but it's the truth. That's why you never come alone to these things. You always have your friends with you. You would kick asses for each other and overall, you feel more protected and safe. 
The hand that slaps your ass – that definitely looks good in this dress – causes you to turn and twist your face in anger. You spot a wasted man that smiles stupidly as if he did something cute. You shove him in the chest causing him to stumble into a few people who start to curse at him and complain.
“Touch me one more time and I will fucking kick your ass.” you spit at him. 
Your ass might look good but that's not an open invitation for strangers or anyone to touch you unwillingly. 
He gains his balance and his drunk features twist into anger. You see it. He's angry because you're not all over his dick because he touched you. First of all, he's not even hot. And he's wasted out of his mind. There's nothing hot about it. 
He doesn't make it too close because you push him again, causing him to fall this time.
“You bitch!” he yells, having a trouble to stand up and you cover your mouth to shield the giggle that makes it out. 
One of the guys that he stumbled into turns around, ready to curse. But as your eyes lock, all the amusement fades away and your eyes widen in a sudden fear. Shit.
It takes a moment for your brother to register that it's you – perhaps the exposed skin causes him to widen his eyes too before they twist into anger.
“What the fuck.”
“I was invited.” you automatically argue, yelping once he makes his way toward you and grabs you by your forearm. He kicks the bastard that still tries to stand up and starts leading you elsewhere. No, he's not leading you but dragging you with him.
It's not the initial reaction you had in mind. You wanted to smirk, to show him that you're here and there's nothing you can do about it. But that's out of the picture because in the end, you're just a little girl that maybe loves to piss off her brother, but once you truly piss him off you back away.
That realization causes your anger to come back and you dig your heels into the wooden floor, trying to get out of his hold. “Stop squeezing me like that!”
“Would you like to be squeezed by strangers?!” He yells over the music, both of you stopping next to a staircase.
It already happened, you wanted to say but decide to stay quiet.
He couldn't see what the stranger did to you. He only saw the man falling and stumbling into him. So the fact that he's this pissed off to see you here without even seeing what happened just minutes ago, makes you think he needs a psychiatrist. What would he do if he saw what happened?
“Maybe I want that!” you yell at him. “And there's nothing you can do about it!”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to calm down. “What are you doing here.”
“I told you. I was invited.”
“I uninvited you.”
You scoff, “It's not your party, you moron.”
“JK invited you?”
“Yeah.” you shrug just to piss him off some more.
He stares at you for a moment, glaring but you glare back before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But you're not leaving my side.”
You scoff but he grabs your shoulders tightly. 
“I mean it.”
“Stop touching me.” You slap his hands away, his touch fading away as you're about to open your mouth to curse at him some more.
Before you can do it, someone nudges him from the left side. Your brother is about to pounce but once he sees his best friend in the flesh, he stays down but not before he's reminded of what you told him. 
“What are you doing.” He questions your brother but he just scoffs in return.
“You invited her?”
Jungkook rolls his lip piercing as he shrugs, “I did.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Me? You invited her first if I recall.” 
Your brother stares at his friend in disbelief before he glances at you. You shrug, lifting your brown. 
“You two are fucking unbelievable.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, probably thinking your brother is just dramatic. Which he is. While they're too busy arguing, you don't pay attention to anything that's being said. You shamelessly eye Jungkook, spotting how blurry his lips are from the make out session you witnessed a while ago. He's got a similar outfit like you've seen him during the day. The only difference is that he's wearing all black. 
“Listen you two, I will stay out of your sight, okay?”
“No fucking way!” Your brother argues while Jungkook sighs in exhaustion. 
“I'm just gonna have a few drinks and meet new people.”
“These people are not for you to meet or be friends with.”
“Who said anything about being friends?” you mutter, causing your brother to curse at you once more.
“No–” He stops you before you can interrupt him, “You invited her, so you will look after her.”
“Me?” JK frowns, disliking the idea. While you would be slightly offended by the lack of interest when it comes to you, you're also irritated that your brother here is acting the same. Only this time he's giving the responsibility to Jungkook. 
“Yes, you! You invited her, so you'll watch over her tonight. If anything happens to her, I will personally kill you,” 
God. He's so full of himself. If Jungkook wanted, he could knock him out with one punch. But you don't say it to hurt his male ego and boost Jungkook's one. It seems they're full of ego. 
“And I'm not joking.”
He brushes past you two and leaves angrily. To probably shove his tongue down to any first girl he sees. 
And from the looks of it Jungkook looks like he would rather much do the same. But then he looks at you, reminded of his current responsibility. You. 
“Listen–you don't have to look after me–I can handle my–”
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
He stares you down, not in the creepy way to stare at your body but almost looking for anything that could give him answers to his question.
“I've seen what happened.”
“You've seen it?” you breathe out, “I'm fine.”
“You sure?”
“I handled it.” you grit through your teeth.
“You did,” he agrees much to your surprise. “Or maybe you were just lucky.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” You trash with your hands, but he catches your wrist. Gently. But he has his hold on you and your breath catches in your throat. He pulls you closer.
“What if it was someone who wouldn't be so wasted? Hm?”
You gulp, glancing at his lips for a split second before you find his dark eyes on yours. “It happened with people around us. Someone would step in.”
He scoffs, “Don't count on it too much.”
“They would–”
“Some of them. Not all of them,” he informs you. 
You're reminded that he knows these parties. He knows how it's going. And while no one would mess with him personally, it doesn't mean everyone is as safe as him. Let alone any women. That much you've realized and you haven't even been here for a half an hour. 
“What if he waited until you're drunk to take you somewhere else?”
You breathe out shakily, “Stop.”
“What if he dragged you upstairs? And that's just the start of what he might've done.”
“Fucking stop.” you warn him with your eyes but he doesn't budge. 
He tames you like you're a fucking dog.
“Your brother's right. You're staying with me.”
“And staring at you making out all night?”
You shut your mouth as soon as your response gets out. Jungkook tilts his head tiniest bit to the side and the corner of his mouth lifts up. “You were watching.”
“It was hard not to. Everyone was watching.”
“That's not an excuse.”
You inch closer, licking your lips. “It wasn't supposed to be.”
He stares at your lips before his touch disappears and so its warmth does. “You're not leaving my side.”
You scoff but he glares at you which surprisingly shuts you up. 
“I can give you alcohol, you can have fun. But you're not leaving my side.”
“You're worse than my brother.” That's a stretch and you both know it, but you've never seen Jungkook acting like this. He never really cared. He never had to in the first place. That's what your brother was for. 
He inches closer, hovering over you like only his presence can. “I can be worse.”
And somehow, that sounds like a promise. Once he motions for you to follow him, you do like a lost poppy with gritted teeth and anger bubbling inside you. But you don't disobey. Perhaps it's the shock or the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you buzz with excitement. 
Fuck. 
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It's not hard not to have a crush on someone like Jungkook. He's hot, he's confident but not in the way where he's full of himself. He has every reason to be confident.
And just like he promised, he has managed to give you drinks that surprisingly taste good. They're not too strong and something tells you he purposely picked those out for you. You don't complain. They don't cause you to make grimaces at every gulp and you can feel yourself relax. In the corner your brother watches you with glare, reminding you of something that should feel like punishment. 
Perhaps it does.
Jungkook has you seated next to him, back on the couch. The woman he made out with sits on the opposite side, sending daggers next to you. You roll your eyes very publicly, scoffing and making sure she sees you. 
“JK, can we go somewhere else?” You hear her annoying sweet voice, while Jungkook himself looks slightly irritated that he has you on his watch. “Upstairs?” she suggests.
“Sorry, love, can't.”
She huffs out, “Why? Because you're babysitting?”
You move sideways to face her, leaning through Jungkook as you glare at her. “Maybe he just doesn't want your tongue shoved in his mouth.”
Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to your collarbones to move you back but you don't budge. 
“Oh yeah? He wants more than that.” she informs you. 
“God, you're so desperate.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Behave.” Jungkook warns you, pushing slightly harder and finally, you plop back onto your spot and fume with arms crossed. 
“Tell your bitch to behave.”
“Y/N.” Jungkook warns through his teeth. You stop, realizing that this is the first time he said your name. Still fuming, you give him a glare before standing up.
“What did you just call me?”
“Come on.” Jungkook stands up too before you can make things worse and he's going to be caught up in a girls fight. This is not the night he planned.
He doesn't drag you like your brother did. He still rests his hand against your back and leads you in a direction. You don't protest. You want to but anything's better than being in the blonde's presence one more second. 
When you realize you're standing next to your brother who's leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a knowing and quite pleased smirk. 
“Dude. That's enough.”
“Are you having any issue with my sis, JK?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You made your point.”
“No, I don't think I have.”
“You two are annoying.” he sighs, closing his eyes.
“Excuse me? What have I done?” you exclaim, hand on your chest as he gives you a knowing look that shuts you up.
It's more than clear. Jungkook has brought you to your brother, so he could deal with you rather than he has to. It bruises your ego, but only slightly because you don't let any guy do any permanent damage. But you have to be honest. It's slightly embarrassing how he wants to shake you off. Clearly his plans for tonight have been different and watching the blondie still waiting for him patiently makes your night even worse, knowing what exactly he had planned. 
“You made me a huge cockblocker, bro.” you interrupt their bickering. It feels refreshing not to be the one bickering with your brother. 
Which reminds you that for the first time, you actually see them in some sort of argument even though it's not exactly a fight. Your brother as always is a pain in the ass and Jungkook's now experiencing it. You don't understand why Jungkook just doesn't let you go? Why did he insist on having you by his side at all times? 
Most likely, he doesn't want to piss off your brother.
Jungkook throws you yet another glare, but you brush him off pretty easily. “It's not about that.”
You give him a look which makes him groan.
“It's not just about that.”
And then they continue again. Your brother complains about your presence here, blames Jungkook rather than your own decision to come. He knows you. He knows you've done it to mess with him and it worked. But he expected better from Jungkook. 
You don't want to hear any second of it any longer. You don't wait for Jungkook's response, not even when you see his frown deepen and you know he's getting angrier by every word your brother spits in his face.
Using the tiny chance where they don't pay you any attention, you distance yourself from them. When you're in a safe distance and are not stopped by one of them, you make a run for it. Grabbing a wine bottle from someone's hold, ignoring them complaining, you make it upstairs and try to find a place where you can be alone. Before they find you.
You know once they notice you're not there, they'll be looking for you. Well, your brother will for sure. Even though he can be a dick, he's worried. But let him. That's what he gets for not letting you enjoy tonight. 
Passing by people who either mingle or make out, you try a few doors that are locked. Wise decision. Another reason why Jungkook seems to know how these parties go. It seems almost impossible to find a place where no one is. 
Just when you become tired and desperate, you make it to the quieter part of the house. It's weird because there are people everywhere. It's impossible to find somewhere quiet and empty. 
Luckily for you, you end up in a room that seems to be some sort of office. It's medium sized, definitely not one of the biggest rooms in this massive house, but still bigger than your kitchen and room together. 
It seems Jungkook has forgotten to lock this room. There's nothing special about it though. But he definitely doesn't want anyone to have sex on the wooden desk you pass by. There are a few shelves with books and a lamp, but other than that it's pretty empty. Oh, and there's a small couch. It looks expensive but it seems like they've brought it here just to put it somewhere. Not that it doesn't fit in here.
But it definitely doesn't look as expensive as the furniture you've managed to see in your short stay here. What has it been? Two hours? Two awful hours and no fun. 
Making it onto a small balcony, you sigh in relief when you find it open. It's facing the back of the house and your mouth drops when you see a fountain, pool and a garden in the distance. He's filthy rich. His parents are.
Sitting on the cold ground, you take a sip of the wine. Your features scrunch in disgust but you force yourself to drink. It's more from the whole annoyance and anger you've been feeling ever since you came here.
Maybe they were right.
This place is not for you.
You have no idea how long you end up sitting there. 
You just stare, hearing the blasting music in the distance and the chatter of people. You wonder if any neighbor called the police on him. But they're in the distance, probably they don't hear it as much.
There's a forest around you. There are no cars, no barking and no city noise. You wonder how this place feels like when there's no party. It must be calm and relaxing.
“Here you are.”
You hear it as soon as the balcony door slides open, ignoring the hint of annoyance in his voice as you take another gulp.
“You can't disappear like that!”
You chuckle, “Really? Watch me.”
“Your brother went crazy when you disappeared.”
“Sounds like a him problem.” you shrug.
“Are you drunk?”
You give him a look, a lazy smile making it onto your face.
“Where did you get that?”
“You know this is the most you've spoken to me since I've known you.” you take a note out loud.
He ignores you though. “You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a me problem, no?”
“God, you're such a brat,” he groans, “And get off the ground, you're gonna get sick.”
Snorting, you shake your head. “You're acting just like my brother.”
“You're irresponsible.”
That causes you to get a whiplash from how fast you glare at him. “I am not. Y'all act as if I can't do things on my own. Not only does my brother try to control me and watch over my shoulder every goddamn minute, you started doing it too!”
“He's worried about you.”
“Whatever,” you grumble, “Go back to blondie and leave me alone. Or snitch to my brother about my whereabouts, I'm sure he will get me out of here.”
He stays though. He doesn't move and doesn't speak for a moment. Instead, he sighs and sits next to you. 
“I wanted you to have fun.”
“Well, that didn't work, did it?”
“Look at you,” he chuckles, nudging lightly on your shoulder. “You seem to have fun on your own.”
“Yeah, spending Valentine's Day alone on the balcony of my brother's best friend is just so much fun.”
He laughs. He actually laughs and gives you an approving nod once he realizes you're right. “You're not alone anymore.”
You give him a look but before he can elaborate, he motions toward the bottle in your hand with his head. 
“Give me that.”
“No, this is the only fun I have.”
“C'mon, I will drink with you.”
Your surprise comes out before you give him a suspicious look. “You will?”
“Yeah.” he agrees and takes the bottle you hesitantly give him.
He takes a small sip, not a few gulps as you expect him to. “Is that all you got?”
“For tonight, yeah.”
“Why?” you question.
“I will take you home.”
You scoff, but then he continues. 
“After you decide you wanna go home.”
“Really?” Your surprise makes it out again. “You're not gonna kick me out?”
“I would never kick you out.” 
You make a face, “But my brother–”
“Your brother can be a dick sometimes.”
“Woah.”
“Don't act like you don't know it.”
“I do, but I'm just surprised you're the one saying it.”
He sets the bottle on the other side of him. It doesn't go unnoticed by you but you decide not to fight with him, especially once you feel the alcohol doing its job. 
“Well, I've seen it from his side and I gotta be honest, he's protective. Sometimes overly but he's not doing it because he hates you, y'know?”
“I know he doesn't hate me,” you inform him. “It's just annoying sometimes.”
“But now I've seen more of your side and he should just let you live.”
You nod in appreciation with lips pursed, “Wow, thank you.”
He smiles, “You still do a lot of stuff just to get back at him. You're not making it any easier, huh?”
You laugh, “It's my rebellion.” 
You sit there for a moment in complete silence. Jungkook stands up and leaves. You act as if you're not disappointed but before you can reach for the bottle that Jungkook has left here, the door slides open again and Jungkook wraps a blanket around you. 
“Don't look so surprised.”
“Wow, JK does something nice for a girl?”
“I can do a lot of nice things.”
“Is there a double-meaning or?” you trail off, causing him to laugh as he shakes his head.
“Not like that.”
Yeah, because you're his brother's best friend.
Not that you would ever want something with him. Only in your most secretive dreams but that's beside the point. Jungkook is not boyfriend material. You've seen it today more than ever. But you can't deny that he attracts you in the weirdest way possible. You have never experienced that with anyone. 
He's your type. When it comes to looks. And you're slightly ashamed to admit that some of his behavior attracts you. Basically, it's a red flag but what do they say? I'm color blind?
“How are you not freezing?”
It's February and you're sitting on a balcony. 
“I'm drunk.”
God, you're going to end up sick. Even your drunk self scolds you. 
“You wanna go home?”
“Not yet.”
He nods, not protesting as you both stare ahead. Your thoughts run wild, even in their slow pace because of alcohol flowing in your system.
“I was so annoyed because today's Valentine's Day,” you start, chuckling at yourself. “At first I thought I was just annoyed because everyone's in love and everything about today is about love. I do think it's overrated though.”
“I don't know, I never cared about it to be honest.”
You laugh, “Did you make today's party for all anti-romanticists?”
“No, I would've done it either way.” he chuckles. 
“Did you ever make something romantic for Valentine's Day?”
He makes a face, frowning but silently laughing amusingly at the thought of it. “No.”
“You know what? I think I was more annoyed that secretly maybe I crave for something romantic. Not necessarily a relationship.”
“Or maybe you just feel the pressure of today's ridiculous holiday and people around you.”
You snort, “You're just saying that because you're not in love.”
“Love's not for me. Not that kind at least.”
“And what kind?”
“I loved our family dog.”
You laugh, “That's different. I'm not talking about that.”
“I know you don't. Just sayin', love has all forms.” 
You hum, sighing before you start shivering. 
“Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing.”
“But–”
“We don't have to go home.”
“Or maybe I should. I'm getting tired. And I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You were mixing hard liquor with wine. You will.” he agrees and once you nudge him, he laughs at you. “C'mon, you little brat. It's time to go home.”
As he makes sure you don't fall on the stairs, giving you the support you almost stumble when your brother makes his way toward you, breathless and relieved once he sees you.
“Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere. We've been looking for you! Why do you have the blanket?”
“Found her on the balcony.”
“What were you doing there?!” He screeches.
“Don't worry, I wasn't going to jump. But if I'm gonna have to keep up with your annoying ass for one more second, maybe I will.”
“You're drunk.” He scoffs.
“And honest.” you add.
“And where are you going?”
“I'm gonna take her home.” Jungkook answers, helping you with the last step as your brother stares with mouth wide open. 
“Like the hell you will! You were drinking.”
“I wasn't,” he responds. “Not since I was with her anyway.”
“Doesn't mean you don't have alcohol in you.”
“I don't. I'm fine.”
You didn't even realize he wasn't drinking anymore. God. You really can be a pain in the ass too. But that's your brother's doing though. He should've never ordered Jungkook to look after you. 
“You're the one who reeks of alcohol,” Jungkook informs him calmly, “Or you want someone else to take her?”
He shakes his head, still hesitant. He walks closer to you and wraps the blanket tighter around your form. “Are you gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, I trust Jungkook. Don't you?”
“I do.” He doesn't hesitate. 
He gives one final nod to Jungkook as he leads you out of the house. As you're walking out of it, you spot blondie with a group of what seems like her friends, glaring the shit out of you. You stick out your tongue when Jungkook's busy opening the door for you. The look on your face causes you to smirk.
Jungkook gets you inside his flashy car and you're kinda doomed that you're too drunk to look around and appreciate the expensive type of vehicle. You're drifting in and out of your consciousness. But you notice Jungkook stopping in front of a convenience store, informing you he'll be right back. And he is. It seems like he's been gone for a minute because you close your eyes, open them and he's already there.
The drive and walk to your home is quick. You get to walk on your own, much to your embarrassment there are no accidents of stumbling or falling. As soon as you make it past your doormat, you make it inside your bathroom and throw up in the sink. It's embarrassing once you hear Jungkook behind you, helping you with your hair. He doesn't say anything, just letting you throw up everything that's currently in your stomach. 
“I should take a shower.”
“Fuck that. Go lay down. I will lock the door.”
“Lock?”
“Your brother gave me his spare keys.”
“Oh.”
After a few minutes of bickering, you still insist on taking a shower. Jungkook sighs and lets you do your own thing, patiently waiting in the living room. Once you make it out in your pajamas that consist of your brother's huge t-shirt, you find him scrolling through his phone. 
“You gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You're seconds from passing out. You might've stumbled in the bath a few times but you hope he didn't hear that. 
You drag your feet to your bedroom and fall onto bed. You'll cover yourself later. As soon as you lay down, you ignore your spinning head and the disgusting taste of vomit that is still present, even though you've brushed and rinsed your teeth even in your drunken state.
The night is wild.
You throw up a few times, finding a prepared bucket beside your bed but unfortunately, you don't make it into it the first time. Once you wake up with a messy and aching head, you notice vomits on your floor and you cringe at yourself. Disgusting. 
You wake up around twelve, finally in a better state to leave your eyes open without having to vomit everywhere. You're about to reach for your phone, knowing you're going to have at least a dozen messages from your brother. But you stop yourself as you stare at things that weren't on your nightstand before.
There's a glass of water. A box of painkillers and a chocolate bar wrapped in a package filled with pink and red hearts. 
There's a note stuck to it. 
'Happy Valentine's Day, JK'
You stare, reading the note over and over again. 
And they say romance is dead.
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