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hyukalyptus · 5 months

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a coincidence — rockstar!yeonjun x fem!reader

cw. rockstar!yeonjun x audiencemember!reader, chubby!reader implied, fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, oral (m. receiving), sex (condoms mentioned <3), roleplaying(?), orgasm denial, lmk if there's more. notes. this is part of @napofamoon's growing pain rock band!au collaboration :D thank you @nightlyawnzz for being a beta reader :3 and thank you angie for that one line of dialogue (didn't know if you wanted to like not be tagged lol), not super well edited, smut under cut <3 wc. 2.8K

Who is that? Yeonjun’s seen hundreds—thousands—of pretty girls at his concerts. But no one’s ever truly made an impression. Every once in a while, there’d be one that barely stuck out from the crowd, but nothing ever stuck. After a while, the crowds started getting blurry. Has performing become a bit boring for him? Maybe. There wasn’t a spark anymore. No reason to perform.

But you…you immediately caught his eye. A bright star in a sea of dull strangers—smiling, drinking, dancing to the music, having a blast. You looked fun, exciting, flirty. And he wanted—needed—to get to know you. But first, he needed to get your attention.

He’s cool, casual with his bass; he’s a natural. The way he moves with the music, pouty lips singing under his breath along with the frontman, the stage lights sparkling in his eyes—it didn’t take much focus for him to nail every song.

So he decided to have a bit of fun tonight. Moving a bit more, putting on a bit more of a show than usual, getting closer to the edge of the stage without being too obvious. All to get your attention. So why won’t you look at him? Just a bit closer and maybe…

Bingo.

You’ve locked eyes and there’s that something he’s been looking for. Something he’s been looking for for a while. That spark. That reason to put on a bit of a show.

And you could tell. You were just as into it as he was.

Watching his every move—flirting without crossing a line, giving him seductive looks, dancing in his direction. It was fun. It was thrilling. That unspoken desire between two strangers—and one of them admires the other before they’ve even met? How scandalous, hm? The tension grew and grew until—

“Thank you everyone; good night!”

But…what do you do now? How could he find you later? Oh, why didn’t he slip the security guard his number to give to you? Where are you? No, no, no, don’t leave.

There was nothing he could do; the lights were dim, the curtain was drawn, the crowd was spilling out the front door. You never left his mind, though. Not when he put his bass in its case, not when he zipped his hoodie up to leave, not when he plopped down on his hotel bed, never.

Desperately trying to get you off his mind, he heads down to the hotel bar. Oh, how pathetic is this? A world-famous rock star sitting alone at a hotel’s bar sipping a whiskey feeling sorry for himself? Over what? Some girl?

Please don’t sit there…he begs silently watching a strange figure take the seat in the bar stool next to him. Despite the need for alone time, he couldn’t help but glance over at the sound of your—

“Just a vodka soda, please.”

Oh, shit. It’s you. What does he do? Why are his hands so sweaty? When did he turn into such a loser? Getting this worked up over a girl. He needs to get your attention again, but he doesn't want to come off too pushy. You’re here alone too and maybe you wanna keep it that way.

Fuck it.

He clears his throat, cooly-maybe-not-so-cooly saying, “I saw you in the audience.” Just as you planned. Well, sort of. You didn’t mean to run into him. Glancing across the room at the hotel you were staying in to see that hot bassist sitting alone at the bar was pure luck.

But you need to keep it cool. Don’t be too…weird. Just a simple glance and gentle nod is enough.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, knowing your answer. He could see your desire just as much as you could see his, but you weren’t gonna give in just yet. You nod again, adding a quiet hum. “Are you from around here or…?” Should he move a bit closer? Sure. Should he brush your knee with his fingertips? Why not? Oh, they give you goosebumps. You don’t pull away or even flinch. You’re welcoming this.

“No, I’m here on business. That’s why I’m, you know, at a hotel right now.”

“Right.” He pauses, like he has to think of the next thing to say, “I’m Yeonjun, by the way. But you already knew that.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“No reason,” he snarks. “Just that you bought a ticket to my show.”

“As if,” you roll your eyes. “I was bored and the show was right down the street.” Lie. All of this was lies. Of course you were a fan. Both of you knew that.

“So you got front-row seats from a scalper then?”

Now it’s time for some fun. Turning toward him, you introduce yourself, face inching closer and closer, his hand sneaking up higher on your thigh, your heartbeat getting faster with each millimeter. You maintain your confidence best you know how, but you must admit, he’s intimidating. Is it that way he unapologetically stares at your body? The way he’s flirting with a fan after a show? The way his lips look like they’d perfectly wrap around your—

“Do you always find fans to flirt with after the show?”

“No. Never,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “But you’re so…” he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear, eyes roaming your face, “gorgeous. I haven’t stopped thinking about you in the audience. Then boom, here you are at my hotel’s bar. Must be fate.”

“Or a coincidence.”

Both resorting to a shrug, there’s tension in the air like you’ve never felt. It’s excruciating. He’s leaning closer to you, oh, what was he about to say?

“I saw you watching me,” he whispers right against your ear—close enough to feel his breath. Fuck, he’s good. This is gonna be fun. And you’re gonna be a brat. At least for a little.

“I was watching all five of you,” you say, adding an annoying eye roll for good measure.

“Nope,” he says, sitting back and smiling like he knows a secret of yours. Which he may. “Only me.”

“So what if I was?” You narrow your eyes at him. You weren’t gonna break eye contact now. You can’t. But he doesn’t expect you to keep it. He expects you to cower and blush like everyone always does. But you don’t. And he likes that. “I’m waiting.”

“Makes me wonder what else you wanna watch me do is all.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” he chuckles. “You tell me. You were the one that couldn’t stop staring at me.”

That jerk. That stupid fucking jerk. Looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, you glance down at his lips—side note: jesus fucking christ they look delicious but that’s beside the point right now—and lean in as close as you can without touching him. Parting his own lips, he tilts his head just barely and closes his eyes.

“Aw, you’re so cute.” You giggle. “You thought I was gonna kiss you?”

While you’re watching him retreat, defeated at his own game, he runs his fingers through his messy black hair.

“So you think I’m cute?”

Let’s give in now. “No.” You stand, taking a deep breath and walk behind him, sliding your hands down his chest, bending to meet his ear to whisper, “I think you’re fucking sexy.”

Goosebumps—but this time, they’re on him. Has anyone ever done this to him before? Let’s take it one step further. You bite his ear lobe gently and he sighs, your name falling out of his lips breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“Come upstairs with me,” he whispers.

Another step further. Sliding your hand up the back of his neck, you grip some of his hair, tugging it harshly, his eyes widening as he hisses.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Will you come upstairs with me? Please.”

Turning him around in his barstool, you stand between his legs, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I thought you’d never ask.”

It was all a blur as he took you upstairs—heading straight for the elevator, pushing you against the wall to finally crash his lips into yours, hands roaming your body trying to decide what part of it to grab onto. The ding of the elevator snaps you out of it before stumbling down the hallway to his room.

When he finally gets the door open and the door slams behind you, he’s gentler, like he wants to take his time with you. But you don’t. You drag him toward the bed and push him to the mattress to straddle his hips. Wrapping his hands around your waist, his hands slip under the skirt of your dress to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

Lifting off him, you lift your dress over your head as he eyes your pretty white lace lingerie while he smirks to himself. Fuck, he looks hot when he bites his lip like that. And, god, you need his shirt off. Tugging at it, you rock your hips back and forth to shimmy it off while he stays laying down. Hands on bodies, breath heavy, lips on each other’s…god, this was fun.

He flips you to your back, pressing his lips to your chest, trailing kisses over your collarbone. Pushing your face to the side to access your neck, he covers it in sloppy, wet kisses.

Since when was your bra so uncomfortable? And since when was it such a cock blocker? With that out of the way, his lips find your nipples, sucking harshly, but licking them to soothe the stings. Tugging at the waistband of his joggers, you can’t stop begging him to fuck you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says, mimicking your tone from earlier.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you gasp at the feeling of his finger gliding over your clit slowly—slower than anyone’s ever touched you before. But it’s amazing. “Will you please fuck me?”

“Not yet,” he whispers. Standing to pull his pants and boxers down in one motion, he looks over your body. Oh, what was he gonna do with you and everything your body has to offer? Put you on your knees so he can cum all over your full tits? Fuck you from behind so he can see your ass jiggle? Fuck you in missionary so he can see your tits and tummy jiggle while he squeezes your thighs? There’s too many options to pick from.

But before he can make the decision, you crawl over to the foot of the bed, making a big show of it before reaching for his hips. Wrapping your hands around his hips to squeeze his ass, you pull him closer, kissing the tip of his cock. You were going to be the death of him. But you haven’t even tasted him yet. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you finally sink down on him completely.

And fuck do you feel good.

Fingers fumbling through your hair as he tries to steady himself, his head falls back to let out the most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard from a man. He whispers your name.

“What?” You look at him, your lips forming a pout while you wait for an answer. He responds with a simple eyebrow raise. “You said my name,” you say matter-of-factly. “What is it?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Hooking his hands behind your knees, he pulls to flip you on your back while you let out a yelp. He boxes you in with his elbows, dragging his teeth over one of your nipples while you grip his hair, back arching to meet his mouth. He covers you in kisses. You don’t think anyone’s ever kissed you this much. Nothing will ever be enough after this.

As he makes his way down, your legs fall over his shoulders, showering your thick thighs with kisses. Using his mouth to put the smallest amount of pressure on your clit over your thong, he makes you whine and involuntarily grind against his chin, trying to relieve any tension. But he’s not giving in either. Backing away, he chuckles at you. That jerk. Why does he have to be such a jerk?

“Don’t do that to me,” you say. Eyes dark, he takes the waistband of your thong between his teeth, pulling them down slowly, letting them drag over your skin. Kneeling between your thighs, he keeps that spine-tingling eye contact as he rubs his tip over your center. That sends a jolt through your body, letting your brain finally catch up with your body.

“Will you wear a condom?”

Nodding, he quickly rustles through his suitcase messily splayed across the floor. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he starts to roll it down himself, which is a glorious sight. And he can tell the effect it has on you. You smirk, glancing up at his eyes—eyes that are sparkling back at you.

“Eyes on my cock, baby.”

Fine by you. Sliding it down so slowly, you’re entranced. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

One hand pressing on your hip, the other lining himself up with your pussy, he pushes himself inside you, your eyes rolling back and he groans in your ear. Short shallow breaths grace your skin as he thrusts fast and hard, just like you wanted.

Bodies rocking together, he stares at your tits bouncing with his movements. Your nails start dragging down his back, but he quickly pulls out to turn you over, lifting you by your hips to bring you on all fours, your ass on full display. He spanks you, hard enough that your cheek will be pink tomorrow morning.

Pressing on your lower back to deepen the arch, he thrusts into you again. With your face squished against the mattress, his hands dig into the fat of your hips to hold you in place. The fire in your stomach roars, legs trembling, muscles weak. He yanks you up by your hair—you were hoping he’d do that—to press your back to his chest, letting you feel how heavy he's breathing.

“Don’t cum yet,” he says.

“Who said I was close?”

That evil laugh makes your eyes roll. “I can feel it.” Well, you can’t really argue with that. He was right. “Don’t.”

“You really like telling me what to do, huh?”

He snakes his hand in front of you to circle your clit, turning your whines to whimpers, desperately fighting the urge to let yourself go. What would happen if you did let yourself cum, though? It might be exciting to find out, hm? But being told what to do and when is just as exciting.

Grabbing his arm, your nails dig into his skin. He releases your hair, pushing you to the mattress roughly, face pressed against the mattress. Fists full of bed sheets, his hands spread across your ass, skin spilling through his fingers.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to hold it together—the only thing letting you is knowing how good you must be making him feel if he’s making noises like that.

“Yeonjun,” you gasp, his speed increasing. “Please.” The way he grunts tells you he’s close too, but he doesn’t plan on holding back. Pull my hair again, pull my hair again, pull my hair again, you keep thinking to yourself. And, oh, did you say that out loud? Because he pulls your hair again, finding an even deeper spot inside if you, the feeling spreading to your toes.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you yelp. “Please let me cum.”

He groans again, your name falling out of his lips before adding, “Cum for me.”

Your loud whimpers are muffled by the pillow you’ve shoved your face into, the fire in your stomach roaring louder and louder until—

Fuck…

God, this is good. Your orgasm explodes inside you, fireworks going off in all directions, filling every nook and cranny of your body. Praising you through your orgasm, he encourages you to cum hard around him, reminding you of how good your pussy feels around his cock.

Your body relaxes, but his doesn’t. He thrusts deeper inside of you, desperate to reach his own climax.

“Fuck—” he grunts, spanking you again. He loves seeing you jiggle like that. Reaching in front of you, he massages your tits, squeezing to get a firm grip.

His breath hitches, his thrusts getting sloppy as he twitches inside you, groaning through his climax.

Collapsing on top of you, he catches his breath, chest rushing and falling against your back. Rolling off you to plop onto the mattress, he turns to look at your face while there’s a stillness in the air.

“...so you’re a fan now?”

“Haven’t I always been?”

Chuckling, his face turns to the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair, resting his arms above his head. As you make eye contact, both of you burst out laughing—

“I didn’t think you’d like the roleplaying thing as much as you did,” you giggle.

“Well, what can I say? It was hot,” he says. “Great idea, baby.” Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he smiles at you, kissing your forehead. “I love bringing you on tour with us.”

“I love it too.”

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lovsalvatore · 1 year

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You’re a mess

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Summary: Natasha tries to tell herself that she’s not jealous, but it's obvious that's the way she feels while looking at you talking to your friend across the room.

Warnings: +18, Minors DNI! smut, Nat has a penis, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, breeding kink, degradation, praising, hair pulling, spanking if you squint, age gap, infidelity, no aftercare as usual lol, fingering, a bit of edging, marking, choking, rough sex, jealousy and possessiveness.

Word count: 6.5k

a/n: after 3 weeks… here u (finally) go ✰ series masterlist, main masterlist

Natasha tries to pay attention to whatever her wife is saying in front of her, but the way your friend touches your shoulder and sits so close to you distracts her. You haven't noticed yet, but she's been looking at you all night.

Tonight's performance — the one in which you've been rehearsing for weeks — was simply amazing, your first time being a soloist couldn't have been better. However, the absence of your parents in the audience made you a little upset, but you're already used to it, and with all the applause at the end you felt for the first time that you didn't need their approval to do what you like. You just felt proud of yourself, knowing that you can play such a difficult piece so easily, and even better, for hundreds of people and without missing a note.

And of course, there's her. The look she gave you when the last note of the symphony was played is something you want to keep with you for a lifetime. She was also proud, and that's enough for your heart to warm even more with all these emotions you've been feeling lately. Emotions that Natasha feels too, but in a very different way.

As a tradition, every time there's a big orchestra event there's also a celebration dinner, and today was no different. You're sitting on a sofa in the house of one of the producers of tonight's event, listening to your friend chatter about all the tourist attractions she wants to visit during tour.

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, the Maestro is trying not to break the glass of champagne she's holding in one hand, watching you smile at a girl other than her. She's trying to tell herself that she's not jealous, that wouldn't make any sense. But it's a fact that she's hating every second of this interaction between you and your friend. Kate. If she'd known you were that close, she wouldn't have put the violinist's name on the list. She thought you were just friends for convenience, not that outside the auditorium you had a friendship too. She thinks about how you're going to travel the world together, and that the plans she had with you might be interrupted because of your friend. She could even take Bishop's name off the list, but now it's too late, and she knows you wouldn't forgive her for that.

"Natasha?" the redhead takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes for a few seconds before turning her attention back to her wife. This is the first time Maria has appeared at one of the celebratory dinners, and everyone seemed surprised to finally see Natasha's wife. Because she rarely wears a wedding ring, there are people who didn't even know she was married, Maria noticed all the stares and whispers her way, but she decided to ignore it. "Did you hear what I just said?" the brunette asks with worried eyes.

"Hm? What?"

"My god, where did you go?" she giggles, but her wife remains serious, looking your way again and noticing that this time you're the one with your hand on your friend's thigh. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you have to put your hand there? Can't you keep a distance while talking? The Maestro clenches her jaw, starting to get annoyed by it all. She's been holding back for weeks now, trying not to get too close to you so she doesn't end up doing something stupid in front of everyone, she was planning to be with you again only when you guys were far away from this country as it would be safer — not that she minds that much — but she's starting to think that waiting that long isn't the best idea. "I said I think I'm gonna go, I'm kind of nauseous."

That's enough for Natasha to pay all her attention to her wife. "What? Do you want me to take you home?" she's worried, she really is, it's her wife after all. "Did you eat something that made you feel sick? Did you drink something?"

Maria smiles when she sees her wife's concern, and thinks that the Maestro could be like this all hours of the day if she weren't such a busy woman. "Oh no darling, I'm fine, I think it's just tiredness." Natasha nods, but her worry doesn't completely evaporate. "And I'll ask Martin to come get me, I don't want you to leave without even eating the dinner they cooked just for you."

"It's not just for me..."

"Still, you're the conductor, you play the most important role in the orchestra, I'm sure they'll want you to stay even after dessert."

Natasha smiles weakly, and nods her head again. For a few seconds she just focuses on her wife's well-being. They've been married for four years now, not a long time, but not recent either. They've been through a lot together, and even though the marriage is good at times, most of the time they're yelling and throwing all sorts of curse words at each other. Yet, the Maestro sometimes feels bad knowing she's cheating, but it's happened so many times over the years that the guilt just seems to not be a problem for her anymore. She knows it's wrong and she also knows her wife isn't the most faithful woman in the world either, so that makes things less worse. She thinks about what it would be like if she tried to fix her marriage, try to make it work, but as soon as Maria says goodbye with a quick kiss on her lips, and finally walks out the front door, those green eyes end up landing on you again, and she realizes that even if she wanted to she wouldn't be able to stop wanting you. She's fucked, she knows it, but unfortunately for her she's not tired of you yet.

You're laughing out loud at something Kate said, resting your forehead on her shoulder as you try to wipe away the happy tears. Natasha just stares, waiting for you to notice. And that nagging feeling in her chest just grows by the second watching you look so happy without her.

"We could even go to the Eiffel Tower, but everyone goes there, we have to be different from the others, don't you think?" you just nod, trying to forget about the joke your friend told you a few seconds ago, and straighten up on the couch. "But like, if you want to go..."

"I mean, I always wanted to go there to be honest." you look at your phone screen, seeing images of the various places you two can visit in France. It has many interesting museums and beautiful parks. You also think about where you're gonna get the money to be able to do all the things you want during this tour, you expect your parents to support you at least in that. "Hmmm... there's this museum-." you start to speak but frown your eyebrows when you see a message from Natasha appear at the top of the screen. She hasn't texted you since you two exchanged phone numbers a few days ago, you thought she would never send you anything, you're not complaining either.

Maestro: Need to talk to you.

You lift your face trying to look for her among the other guests, and it doesn't take long for you to spot her across the room, already staring at you. You can tell just by looking at her that something is wrong, or at least that something is bothering her. Her gaze shifts quickly to your friend sitting next to you, and for a moment you think that might be it, but of course she's not jealous of you, right? You, on the other hand, couldn't contain that feeling when you saw her wife walk through the front door. You know it's pointless to be jealous of the woman she's literally married to, but you can't help but wish you were in her shoes.

Noticing your delay in responding, Natasha just sends you one more message, telling you that it's really important, and without wanting to keep her waiting, you just excuse yourself to Kate, saying you have an important call to take. As you make your way down whatever hall Natasha is taking you, you pray that this conversation won't take too long, that you'll still have time to eat the dinner they're serving later. Adjusting the hem of your dress you start to feel a little nervous when she stops in front of a door, one of the last in the hall, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a bathroom.

It's completely dark for a few seconds before the Maestro locks the door and turns on the lights. You lean your body against the wall, waiting for her to start saying something, but she stays in complete silence, staring into everything but your eyes. She hates herself for being like this, she doesn't understand why she can't say what she's feeling. Natasha doesn't want to see you smiling at other girls, but she also doesn't want to admit that she was uncomfortable watching your interaction with Kate.

She doesn't want you to know about this effect you have on her, an effect that even she doesn't fully understand yet. The silence starts to get awkward, and you wish you had the courage to do something, say something, touch her, especially make her feel good since you know that's probably what she wants right now, but you can't do it without her having the initiative. She plays with the lapel of her suit, feeling her heart pounding with all the thoughts she's having right now. She wants to curse you out for sitting so close to your friend, she wants to show you how much she hates the fact that you make her feel this way. But she can't find the right words without her sounding like an obsessed madwoman.

But if she knew that's really all you want to hear, she'd probably say it without a second thought. You want her to show how much she wants you in words, but as proud and selfish as Natasha is, she might never say out loud how she really feels. "So... are you gonna say something or..." you say in a low tone, and seem to try to sink even deeper into the wall behind you when she takes a step forward. She's looking down at your exposed legs as she takes off the top of her suit before throwing it on top of the toilet. She's angry, and she knows that talking about it would be better, but she thinks it's easier to show it with actions. "I..." you swallow hard, feeling her delicate fingers brush over your thigh. "You... I thought you-."

"Shut up."

The words come in a whisper from her lips before you feel them on your neck. She wants to mark you, she needs to know that when others look at you, they'll know that you already have someone. Even knowing that you're not exclusively hers, she kinda feels that way, for her no one but her deserves to touch you, and it may be hypocritical of her to think that way when she literally has a wife, but she doesn't care. Her hand starts to move up between your legs as she moves her mouth to your sweet spot, sucking on your skin with the intention of leaving a mark there. It feels good, but then you remember the way she was looking at you and how something is bothering her, you would even try to talk but you never talk about anything when you're alone, and it's also hard to formulate words when she sucks so hard on your neck, throwing every possible shiver down your spine. "Nat-." you try to push her away realising what she's doing, but she just presses her body even harder against yours, moving her face to the other side of your neck.

Natasha closes her eyes as she works her lips on your skin, marking you without even caring if you would want this or not. She's just thinking about what she wants now, how obsessed she is with your body, and how she wants it to be full of marks made by her. She gets lost in the way your perfume invades all her senses, lifting her hand high enough to get it playing with the lace of your underwear. "I want you." she whispers softly against your neck, trying to tell herself that that's all it is, that she just wants you, not that she needs you. You have to close your eyes tightly as she sucks your skin hard, grinding lightly against your leg for you to feel how hard she already is for you. "Are you gonna let me play with you for a bit, hm?" you're already a mess before you nod, feeling her stop sucking the skin on your neck to just spread kisses, moving up to your jaw, to your cheek, until she pulls away to look into your eyes.

It's strange how her gaze can change so much from one moment to the next, and how each one of them makes you feel something different. You start to remember all the times she looked at you like this even before the first time you were together, and you wonder if she always looked at you with ulterior motives. You feel small around her, and you think that feeling of inferiority you have in relation to her will never go away, but that is not a problem for you either, you even like it.

Biting your bottom lip hard and looking down as she starts circling your clit through your underwear, being able to feel the way your wetness spreads over the fabric. You love the way she doesn't even have to look to know the right place to touch you, knowing that either way she's always gonna take a reaction from you. You don't want to take too long not to look suspicious, but you know you won't be able to stop yourself once she starts. You keep looking down, noticing the bulge that starts to appear in her pants, arching your back in anticipation, but then you feel her fingers squeezing your jaw, making you look at her again. "Eyes on me." she says, wanting you to see that the only one who can make you feel this way is her, she wants you to see the desire she has for you, knowing very well that you feel for her too.

She starts by slowly sliding the fabric of your underwear to the side before you finally feel her fingertip teasing your entrance. She groans at how wet you are, and that only makes you even more aroused. You exhale heavily as she rubs her finger across your slits a few times until reaches your clit, her cold fingertips bringing you to literally heaven. "I love how wet you always are for me." she admits, making slow movements while all you can do is just look into her eyes. She wants to tell you that she doesn't want to see you with anyone else but her, only her can make you feel this good, she also needs to hear you saying it, she needs to be sure of that, or else she'll start going crazy. "You're always so needy." she laughs dryly, putting more pressure and speed on your bundle of nerves. You press your lips together, resting your head against the wall behind you, finding it increasingly difficult to keep looking at her. "Tell me, can anyone else make you feel this way hm?"

You immediately shake your head from side to side, thinking she already knew the answer without even having to ask you. Like, who else could? She was your first, and right now you're not attracted to anyone but her. "Only you." you reply in a breathy voice, gripping her shoulder and unable to contain a moan when she surprises you by sliding two fingers inside you. It really feels like you'll never get used to it, the pleasurable pain whenever you have her inside you is a feeling you can never seem to get enough of. "Fuck Nat-." she lets go of your jaw to press her palm against your mouth, not waiting a second to start fucking her fingers fast into you.

"Shhh, don't make too much noise." even though she would love for everyone to hear how good she makes you feel, she knows the timing isn't the best for her to let that happen. "You'll be nice and quiet for me okay?" you just try to nod your head, the heat starting to build each second with her so close to you, and her fingers feeling so good in your cunt. The way your walls squeeze her fingers just makes Natasha even harder, something her wife can never do that easily. The only way she's been able to have sex with the woman she's been married to for four years is by thinking about you, she wasn't lying when she admitted it to you. And it's not like her sex life with her wife is very active, she always ends up just touching herself thinking about you, and how she didn't want you to be the only person she thinks about at times like that. But that's what happens, and she can't do anything to get you out of her head.

You whimper against her hand, moving your hips forward to match her movements. The way her pupils dilate when looking at you just makes you even more mesmerized by her green eyes, and how you think about them almost every hour of your day. She just really knows how to make you feel like you're in another planet by using literally anything, any way she touches you makes you feel inexplicable things. You feel her pumping her fingers into your cunt, and how her palm slams against your clit with her every movement. You want to move your hand from her shoulder and slide down her body until it stops at the bulge you can feel against your thigh, but instead you just dig your fingernails on her skin, the fire in your abdomen growing by the second with an embarrassing speed

Her cheeks are flushed as her gaze locks on the expressions you make for her, pushing her fingers inside you down to her knuckles. She keeps her movement fast, increasing the pressure of her hand against your mouth every time she senses you're about to moan loudly. "Fuck." she groans at the wet noises, wanting to be inside you so badly, wanting to ruin you like she always does. The Maestro feels her cock pulsing inside her pants, and it’s good but very uncomfortable at the same time, while you roll your eyes, feeling her curl her fingers upward, hitting your weakest spot and bringing you incredibly close to the edge.

“Fuck… I love your pussy.” she gasps and brings her face down to your neck again, leaving nothing but light kisses. “I just love how tight you are and how you clench around me… so fucking hot.” she presses her thumb against your clit as she continues to sink her fingers into you, smiling at the way your sounds are muffled by her hand.

It really takes moments for you to feel the bones in your body losing strength, the way her gaze burns into you leaving your head totally empty. "Hm- Nat-." you mutter against her hand, holding her wrist to slow her movements down a bit, but that's no use, you know if she wants to slow down, she's the one who's going to make the decision, and you're already so close that you actually don't really want her to stop now, your mind is just all blurred that you don't even know what you're doing anymore. It's even getting hard to breathe, but you try to hold it for a few more seconds, something that's practically impossible to do.

She decides to leave one last mark on your neck, flicking her tongue at your pulse point slowly. You're hers, that's what she means when she again pulls away, seeing the red and purple marks on your skin. “You look so beautiful like this.” she wants to push your hair back so she can see her work better, but instead she just keeps stifling your moans, pulling her fingers in and out of your pussy feeling your juices wetting most of her hand. “So fucking pretty for me detka.”

Natasha notices how you start breathing harder through your nose, squeezing her shoulder tightly and moving your hips forward. So she just keeps going until she feels like you're almost there, she feels the heat spreading through her body as it spreads into yours, but as soon as you're ready to come all around her fingers she quickly stops, leaving you totally frustrated and wanting more. She wants to laugh at your disappointed expression, knowing she can do whatever she wants to you, and in the end you'll still thank her for it. "Aww, did I ruin your fun baby?" she smiles, taking her hand away from your mouth, and you finally manage to take a deep breath, feeling her slowly slide her fingers out of your pussy. It's as if she intentionally wants to tease you when she roams her fingers through your folds, avoiding touching your clit as much as possible. She spreads your slits, teasing your entrance and watching as you try to move your hips to get more of her. "Sorry... it's just... I want to have a bit of fun too, you know?"

She looks at you with a pitying look, and when you realize she's going to walk away, you hold her by the shoulder, not wanting her to stop touching you. It just feels so good, and you're practically begging her to let you come. "Oh detka, you're so cute." she gives a sardonic chuckle, finally pulling her fingers away from you and leaving you completely craving for more. Your clit is throbbing, and the emptiness that remains is screaming to be filled again. Taking a few steps back she unbuttoned a few buttons of her white shirt before rolling up her sleeves. You're still leaning against the wall, breathing hard as you watch her lean against the sink. Your eyes get lost in the way only a bit of her chest is shown, and how her skin shines with sweat.

"Come here, why don't you help me with this hm?" she says as she grabs her cock over her pants, you follow the action with your eyes, seeing her fingers still glistening with your wetness. Natasha looks with pride at all the marks she left on you, wishing there were even more, she doesn't know where all this possessiveness came from, but she's not willing to change her mind about the fact that she thinks you're just hers. You flash an innocent smile before taking a few steps towards the Maestro — feeling like you could trip any second because of how your legs shake just from the bit of what she already gave you — replacing her hand with yours over the hard bulge.

She sighs and throws her head back when you gently squeeze her cock, playing with it a bit before moving to the zipper of her pants. Natasha just stares as you pull her shaft out, pressing your thumb into the tip and feeling her pre-cum wetting your fingertip. Her size feels even bigger when you close your hand around her thickness, your whole body reacts just by looking at it, and how much you love when she's using you to relieve herself. You're so needy because she didn't let you come seconds ago that you just want her to use you as soon as possible, you've stopped caring if people will think it's weird that you two disappeared out of nowhere, all you need now is her. When you're about to stroke her length, Natasha holds onto your wrist, and you don't have time to ask her what's wrong before she changes your positions, pressing your front against the sink, while standing behind you, moving the hem of your dress to the height of your hips.

You can see it in the mirror's reflection as she looks down at your body, and you try to prepare for what's about to come before you feel her entering you all at once. Maybe you'll never get used to her size, or maybe it's normal and it will still take time for you to be able to take it without feeling any pain. All you can do is grip the edge of the sink as you struggle to stay upright, feeling every inch of her stretching your cunt. "Oh fuck-." it comes out louder than you wanted, and as expected Natasha goes back to pressing her palm against your mouth while keeping her hips still, just feeling the way your walls tighten around her, and how good she feels inside you.

"Shhh, what the fuck did I ask you huh?" you whine quietly as she moves her hips back, only to move them forward again with a force that seems to make all the walls shake. You're just a squirming mess, not being able to look at her in the mirror's reflection as you feel her body heat burn you inside out. Your breath is already hitching by the time you feel your wetness run down your thighs, while Natasha stays still for a few seconds, before again letting just the tip inside your tight hole, this time using her hand to push your hips back, making you feel her cock entering you all at once again. You grunt against her mouth, but she wants to see you struggling to keep quiet, she wants to see you trying without her help. "I'm gonna put my hand down now okay? But you'll remain quiet, or else I'll have to stop."

She actually lowers her hand to your neck, tightening her fingers around your throat as she finally starts to move inside you. You have to concentrate really hard not to make any noise, gripping the edge of the sink so hard it feels like you're gonna break it at any moment. "Oh look at you." the Maestro says in a husky voice close to your ear, each time your hips meet making a loud noise echo in the bathroom. "You always take me so good, don't you?" her hand goes up a bit on your neck to make you look at her in the mirror's reflection, and you wish she hadn't, because now it just gets harder not to show with your voice how good she makes you feel.

As she looks at you, she remembers the way you were smiling at Kate, and how irritated it made her. She chokes you hard with that thought, as she thrusts deep inside you. She fucks you merciless, just wondering if you're ever gonna leave her for someone else, she squeezes her fingers tight around your throat like she doesn't want you to go anywhere but her arms. "You're only mine to use." she whispers more to her than to you, you're so focused on not screaming with pleasure, not releasing everything inside of you, that to you it's just another thing she says while she's so worked up, with no meaning behind it. "No one else can touch you like this, understand?" the words gets stuck in your throat as she doesn't ease her fingers around your neck, and as soon as you keep silent and don't answer her a loud smack noise invades your ears as you feel your skin burning from the slap she just gave you. It hurts, you never thought she'd really hit you like this, but it really felt better than you could ever imagine. "Do you understand?" she asks again, and you just nod your head, moving your hand up to her wrist to pull it away from your neck, not being able to breathe properly anymore.

It's no use, Natasha just uses even more force, making your vision completely blurred. “Hmmm fuck, you feel so good.” the way she pounds on you makes her shiver at the thought of you taking all of her thickness, how it's so easy to sink everything inside you because of how wet you are. She ends up gasping quietly, slowing down just to feel her sliding inside you, while you just dig your nails into her wrist, asking her to ease her fingers around your throat.

It works this time, at least, but then she switches between gripping your throat to wrapping the strands of your hair around her fingers, tugging hard. The maestro also has a hard time containing her moans, but unlike you, she manages to have more control over it. "Then you better not flirt with other people." now it's just jealousy talking, while Natasha rests her other hand next to yours on the edge of the sink. You don't know whether to focus on how good her cock feels abusing your cunt, the words coming out of her mouth, or how painful is the way she pulls your hair. "You don't want them to know what a slut you are, do you?"

"N-no." you look at yourself in the mirror, and at how your cheeks are smeared by the mascara that runs down your face along with the tears. You also see all the marks she left on your neck, and how ironic it is that she tells you not to show what a slut you are when she makes that obvious to everyone by marking you like that. You feel embarrassed about your state, but even more embarrassed about how close you are. Walls fluttering around her cock, which slips in and out of you with ease. You two are so lost in your feelings that you don't hear Natasha's phone ringing, so focused on your own pleasure that you don't even realize that enough time has passed for them to serve dinner. "Fuck, don't stop, please." you say in a breathy voice, the relief washing over your body when Natasha finally lets go of your hair. You feel her hot breath against your ear as she guides your hand to your own sex, pressing your fingers against your clit, and encouraging you to play with it.

You sloppily try to rub your nerve, feeling like every moment you could collapse with the way her thickness slides through your walls, but after a few tries your hand stops, unable to continue because of the way her cock makes you feel. That also causes the Maestro to stop, and you see the evil smile on her face and how she looks so innocently at you at the same time. "Go ahead, keep going." she asks you gently, her dick twitching inside you as she does her best to keep still. She lets out a shaking breath while resting her forehead on your shoulder for just a few seconds before looking back at you, waiting for you to do as she asked to get back to using you the way she wants. You take time, but also wanting her to fuck you again the way she was doing, you end up sighing heavily, clenching your jaw while you go back to stimulating yourself. It's hard to do though, but even so you make circular movements on your clit, even feeling sensitive you keep going, moving your hips to try to relieve yourself on her.

You thank the universe as she slowly moves inside you again, and you realize she's mimicking your slow rhythm, and you hate yourself for not being able to increase the speed. "Really?" she mocks you, smiling as she looks at you through the reflection. "Gosh, what a pathetic slut you are, don't even know how to touch yourself." she takes your hand again, but this time to press it against your lower back. Even if she wanted to tease you a little longer she wouldn't be able to, so she just pounds back into you hard, sinking her entire length with no care at all.

"Fuck... I bet you can at least come, can't you?" you nod frantically, feeling your body slam against the sink with every thrust she takes inside you. You try to move away a little by the way it hurts to feel your body colliding with the furniture every moment, but Natasha holds you tighter forcing you to stay still. "Yeah of course you can, just a needy fucking whore aren't ya?" you agree with her, didn't even know you get so turned on by those kinds of names until she started calling you by them, and especially now this is just the last straw for you to feel the climax building.

"Please..." you beg her with your eyes, finding it the hardest task of all to hold on for one more second because of the way she fucks you so hard, and for the Maestro is no different, she feels the first drops of her cum starting to release inside if you, and that encourages her to keep going. “Please Nat-.”

"Please what?" she purposely breathes heavily into your ear, feeling the way your walls spasm and contract around her dick, and how she knows she won't last much longer either. "Do you wanna come?" you nod, muscles tensing unbearably. "Fuck baby... want me to come with you hm? Want me to breed your pussy so good? Fill you up with my cum?" you just keep nodding over and over again before the orgasm slams against your body, Natasha following you right after and emptying herself inside you. “Fuck… that’s it baby.” you feel all the strength you had in your legs fading away, and the only way you find to stay on your feet is the way she holds you. She bites your shoulder to stop her moaning too loudly and you also have to control yourself not to make any noise. You feel it until her last load is released into your pussy, and how she just stands there for long seconds trying to pull herself together.

“You’re always so good to me, you did so good baby.” she praises you, slowly moving inside you, fucking every last drop of her cum inside your pussy. You feel like something is burning between your legs as she stops completely inside you, breathing heavily against the curve of your neck.

When the two of you finally come off the peak you take a moment to return to your normal breathing as you feel the discomfort that is when Natasha pulls out, her cum dripping down your thighs as she fixes your underwear and drags the hem of your dress down. She looks into your eyes through the mirror, and then gently cups your chin to turn your face to the side. "I'm the only one who can make you feel like this" you feel her breath hitting your lips, and how close her face is to yours. "You'll never let anyone touch you like that, only I can do it." it's not a question, more of a warning, and you as usual just nod whatever she says as you lower your gaze to her lips. You always think how soft they must be, and how good it must be to kiss them, and Natasha notices the way you tilt your face even further, making your lips just inches apart, and with that just completely pulls away from you. "Fix your makeup."

You take a deep breath, coming back to reality, wetting your hands with the water from the sink to clean your mascara-smeared face. You look at her in the mirror's reflection, and see the way she also fixes the wrinkles in her clothes, sighing heavily as she looks at the ceiling. You wanted to know what she thinks after you guys have sex, and why she never wants to talk to you properly after that. For you it’s something really complicated, but for Natasha it's an easy answer, she doesn't want to get attached. You also have to get some paper towels to wipe the mess on your thighs, while the Maestro just puts her suit top back on, and close her shirt buttons. You place your hand on your hip bone, feeling the sore area from the way it kept hitting against the sink, and think of all the bruises it could leave the next day. "Fuck." she murmurs looking at her phone screen once she finishes looking presentable. "Uhm... you need to go."

"I'm sorry?" you turn to face her, finishing arranging a few strands of your hair.

"They started serving dinner a few minutes ago, you should go, it will be suspicious if we show up together." she speaks casually, tucking her phone back into her pants pocket.

"But I... Nat I'm hungry and... Kate was gonna give me a ride back home." she rolls her eyes when you mention your friend's name, while you tell the truth, you were waiting all night for this dinner, having sex in the bathroom of a stranger's house really wasn't in your plans, but now you don't want to go before at least eating something. "You can go ahead, I'll wait a while and-."

"No." she interrupts you. "You can eat at home, take a taxi or something." she's trying not to sound too insensitive, she really doesn't mean to. But between letting you stay and maybe ruin her career and sending you home, she prefers the second option. "What do you need? Money?" she sighs heavily and impatiently, pulling her wallet out of her pocket and scoffing in disbelief when she notices that the only thing she has is a $100 bill. "Here."

“Natasha…” you stare at the bill she holds out to you, refusing to take it. “I can't I-.”

“Gosh just take it.” she grabs your wrist, and places the bill in your hand before tucking the wallet back into her pocket. She sees the expression on your face, and how hurt you look about it, but she can't throw years of career in the trash. “Look… I'm sorry okay? But I really need to go now, just make sure no one sees you when you're leaving… you… baby… you're a mess.” she moves closer to you to adjust the hem of your dress which is still way above your thighs, before lightly caressing your cheek with her knuckles. “Just, text me when you get home, right?”

You don't look at her before you hear the door close, you just play with the piece of paper in your hands. It's like every time she gets what she wants, you just become her apprentice again, not someone she shares such intimate moments with. But at the same time she makes you feel so important that you’re starting to accept this kind of relationship that you two have. Even deep down what you really wanted is for her to look at you the same way you look at her.

taglist: @eliii1sblog @florojas @wannabe-fic-reader @supaheroine @kksalexa @madelineleong @chibilauren @smromanoff @chiar4anna @cl-e @wifeofnatasharomanoff @ccinnamongrl

#my pianist series #wlw #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha #natasha romanoff x fem reader #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #wlw smut #istg if it flops……..

2K notes · View notes

niki-phoria · 11 months

Note

hello, i hope you're well and taking care of yourself 💗 if it's not too much to ask for i want to request enha reacting to their 8th member bf being shipped/paired with another member? not exactly angst but them being jealous and petty, i read your rules before requesting and i don't think it's against them, but i understand if you decline for whatever reason! hope you have a good week <3

⋆｡°✩ enha reaction - their bf being shipped with another member

includes: established relationship, 8th member reader, these are less petty and more the boys needing reassurance lol, mentions of insecure enha

a/n: thank you for requesting !! this isn't against my rules at all, but thank you for checking. i hope you like it :))

feedback is always appreciated <33

male 8th member reader (he/him pronouns)

⋆｡°✩ heeseung

(word count 221)

heeseung furrows his eyebrows as jake shifts slightly closer to you. your shoulders brush against each other as you raise a hand up to complete a hand-heart with the other boy, causing a new wave of cheers to erupt from the audience below.

the stage lights are nearly blinding as they shine down on you. heeseung can feel stares from the audience below. he’s hyper aware of the cameras following his every move as he takes a small breath in an attempt to hide his growing jealousy.

“unfortunately this is our last song for tonight,” jungwon begins apologetically.

“it’s been an honor to preform for you all. we hope to see you again sometime soon,” you say. heeseung smiles softly at the way you brighten up at the second wave of cheers through the crowd.

you wander over to sit beside him on the stairs, leaning your head against his shoulder. heeseung’s arm finds a familiar place around your waist, tugging you even closer to him. he leans over to press a kiss against your forehead as the first few notes of shout out begin to play.

“my life without you is a misery,” you bring a hand up to cup heeseung’s cheek, turning to face him as you finish singing your line. “my heart is racing like it’s gonna explode.”

⋆｡°✩ jay

(word count 214)

you tiredly rub the last remnants of sleep out of your eyes as you quietly enter the kitchen. jay stands with his back towards you, scrolling through something on his phone. even from behind you can see tension in his shoulders.

“jay?” you walk closer to him, hesitantly resting a hand against his waist before you pull him into a back hug. he startles slightly at the contact but doesn’t move away. your arms rest gingerly wrapped around him as you peer over his shoulder to see what he was reading on his phone. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he whispers.

you bring a hand up to rest against his shoulder, gently massaging the tension out of his muscles. you softly smile when he relaxes against you. “jay,” you sigh. “you know you can tell me anything.”

he twists around in your hold so he’s facing you; his back is now leaning against the counter. “it’s just a dumb article from dispatch.”

“about?”

“...you. and sunoo. people think you’re dating.” he glances down at the floor, almost ashamed. “i just don’t like the idea of my boy dating someone else.”

“you have nothing to worry about,” you whisper. you bring a hand up to cup jay’s cheek, quickly pulling you into a sweet kiss. “i promise.”

⋆｡°✩ jake

(word count 223)

you adjust the thin, black mask on your face as you sleepily watch the cashier continue scanning the miscellaneous items the other members had asked you to pick up from a nearby convenience store. another yawn escapes you as sunghoon brushes against your side, sliding yet another bag of chips towards the worker. her long, black hair has been messily tied back into a low ponytail. a thin pair of glasses frame her features.

sunghoon’s arm gently brushes against your waist as he stands beside you at the register. the woman smiles softly at both of you as she finishes scanning the last of your items. “you two are cute together,” she says.

“oh, we’re not-”

you’re cut off by a gentle but stern voice from beside you. jake’s arm wraps around your waist as he pulls you away from sunghoon and against his chest. “he’s mine, actually.”

sunghoon stifles a small chuckle at your embarrassment as he takes the bag from her, handing her a few bills in return. “thank you,” you murmur as you turn to leave the store.

“so, jake-hyung,” sunghoon teases as you begin walking back towards the dorms. “are you perhaps… jealous?”

jake remains silent, though you notice the way his grip around you tightens slightly. “shut up,” he mumbles, hiding his reddened cheeks behind his own mask.

⋆｡°✩ sunghoon

(word count 220)

sunghoon softly smiles as you step closer to the crowd as you reach down to pick up a small penguin plush laying at the edge of the stage. you hold the plush up to your cheek, playfully posing for the cameras.

heeseung chuckles softly, stepping closer as he reaches up to adjust the cat ears a fan had carefully placed on your head a few minutes before. you lean down slightly to give him better access as he adjusts your hair around the faux ears on your head.

a small wave of cheers echoes through the crowd at the interaction. despite sunghoon knowing it was completely platonic from both you and heeseung, he can’t help the jealousy that immediately spreads throughout him. it curls around his heart and constricts in his chest as a small frown tugs at the edge of his mouth.

you step back away from heeseung after he finishes adjusting your hair, wandering back over to sunghoon’s side. you gently uncross his arms from over his chest - something he had done unconsciously - before leaning back against his chest. his arm finds its familiar place around your waist as he holds you against him.

“don’t be jealous, hoon,” you whisper. sunghoon simply playfully rolls his eyes in response; though you can tell he’s silently grateful for the reassurance.

⋆｡°✩ sunoo

(word count 218)

sunoo furrows his eyebrows slightly as he continues scrolling through the comments on a recent dispatch article. you can’t help the way your own eyebrows furrow in concern as you quietly close your bedroom door and set your things down before joining him on your shared bed. “what are you reading?”

he sighs slightly as he hands his phone to you. you scroll to the top of the article, reading the headline: enhypen’s y/n and niki are seen holding hands on a possible late night date.

“it’s stupid, i know,” sunoo begins. “but it’s been bothering me for the past few days.”

“it’s not stupid,” you whisper. you set his phone aside, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. your hand falls to cup his cheek as you gently tilt his face up so he’s looking into your eyes. “sunoo, you’re incredible. you’re sweet, and kind, and handsome,” he chuckles softly, playfully pushing your hand away as he denies your compliments. you lean over him with a small smile. “and everything i could’ve asked for in a lover.”

a small blush spreads across sunoo’s face as you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. then his cheek. nose. and finally, his lips. “you mean everything to me, kim seonwoo.”

⋆｡°✩ jungwon

(word count 223)

jungwon curiously pushes his still-damp fringe back as he steps out of the bathroom, tugging your t-shirt over his shoulders. you stifle a small grunt when he walks over to you and lays down with his head resting against your back.

he laughs as he rolls off of your body to lay next to you. “what are you doing?”

“searching my name.” jungwon furrows his eyebrows slightly in concern as you hand him your phone. “it’s nothing bad. just more dating rumors with jay.”

“more?” the word sounds akin to a whine as it leaves his lips. you stifle a chuckle at the small pout threatening to tug at his lips. he tosses your phone aside, relishing in the feeling of curling up beside you. your arm rests gingerly around jungwon’s waist as you pull him even closer. “why don’t you ever get dating rumors with me?”

“sorry wonie,” you murmur. “you know i would stop them if i could.”

jungwon lets out a soft sigh. you bring your hand up, slowly beginning to rake your fingers through his hair. you twist the soft strands in an attempt to soothe the boy laying in your arms. “i know,” he whispers. he softly smiles as he leans up just enough to press a kiss against your jawline. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

⋆｡°✩ niki

(word count 204)

niki’s eyebrows furrow slightly as he continues scrolling through his weverse feed. there are hundreds of posts, each of them about a recent interaction between you and jungwon. he had simply brushed some of the hair out of your face - a common interaction you often shared with the other members; himself included. though seeing so many posts about his boyfriend with someone else made an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy cloud his mind.

niki jumps slightly when you enter your shared bedroom, closing the door behind yourself. he shuts his phone off, setting it on your bedside table.

“is everything okay?” you ask, moving to sit on the bed beside him. niki remains silent. he lets you reach over to coax him closer to you until his head rests in your lap. you rake your hand through his hair, twisting the strands between your fingers.

“‘m fine,” he finally hums. he lets his eyes slowly flutter closed, exhaustion slowly beginning to catch up with him as he nuzzles his body even closer against you.

a comfortable silence falls over the room for a few minutes as you keep playing with his hair. “are you sure?” you finally whisper.

“i’m just… glad you’re mine,” he smiles.

804 notes · View notes

carakook · 2 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘4. Spring Is Gone

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬ��ᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Merry Go - DPR Ian

♪Gimmie Love - Joji

♪The Astronaut - JIN

♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian

♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie

♪Angel - The Weeknd

♪Nerves - DPR Ian

♪505 - Arctic Monkeys

♪I Love You So - The Walters

♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.

You can always buy more.

The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.

By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.

You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.

But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.

You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…

So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”

“Sleep over?”

Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.

Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.

He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.

Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.

“Hell yeah.”

He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.

He loves it when you look at him like that.

But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.

Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.

“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.

Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?

Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.

But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.

Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.

Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.

And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.

All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.

The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.

The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.

The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.

Definitely a girl thing.

He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.

You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.

He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.

So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.

As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.

He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.

He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.

He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.

Would put it off forever if he could.

He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.

He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.

You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?

He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.

Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.

You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.

More wine would help, you think.

So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.

His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—

Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.

“Gimmie some.”

You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.

“I just topped you off?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”

You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.

And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.

He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.

So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…

Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.

You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.

He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.

“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”

You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”

To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.

But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.

You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.

“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“

He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.

Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.

It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.

You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.

This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.

So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.

When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.

“Kook, we shouldn’t…”

That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.

Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.

You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.

So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,

“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”

“But Kook-“

He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.

It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.

When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.

He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.

The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”

You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.

It’s a secret for you too.

But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.

He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”

You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.

That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.

He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.

His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.

At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.

He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.

His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.

You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.

It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.

He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.

He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.

You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.

He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.

One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.

He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.

You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.

“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”

Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.

You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.

He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.

Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.

Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.

His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.

At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.

It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.

He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.

He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.

He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.

His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.

You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.

He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”

You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.

But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.

So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.

He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.

He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.

He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.

A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.

He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.

He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.

God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.

You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.

His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.

“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”

You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.

Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.

He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.

“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”

He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.

But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.

He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.

His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.

“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”

Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.

All for him, just as he is all for you.

He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.

After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.

He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.

When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.

He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.

He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.

Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.

His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.

One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.

He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.

He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.

He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.

He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.

Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.

He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.

The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.

He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.

Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t like that. Not at all.

He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.

“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”

You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.

He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.

“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”

Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.

That terrifies you.

Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.

Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.

Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.

Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.

You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.

And it will probably be the last.

You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.

This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.

He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.

He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.

“I love you.”

Fuck.

You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.

He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,

“I love you.”

Fuck he needs to stop.

“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”

He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.

“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”

And you break.

Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.

But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.

You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.

You wish things were different.

So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.

He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.

He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.

“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.

“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”

And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.

He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.

You both water each others flower for the last time.

You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”

He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”

You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.

But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.

One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.

It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.

Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.

Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.

You made love. He made love to you.

You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.

He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…

And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.

As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.

“My baby…”

Kiss.

“My love…”

Kiss.

“My pretty girl…”

Kiss.

“My angel…”

Kiss.

“My heart…”

Kiss.

“My soul…”

Kiss.

“My fucking everything…”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.

You always will be. Fucking always.

You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.

You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.

But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”

He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.

You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.

“I know baby, I know…”

You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.

He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.

You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.

He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…

A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.

There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.

You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”

He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.

Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.

“Rest, baby… I’m here…”

You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.

“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”

He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…

And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.

“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”

You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.

“I… I love you… so… much…”

He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.

When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.

Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.

He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.

He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?

What if… he left his wife?

He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.

And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.

He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.

Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.

He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.

But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.

Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.

So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.

He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.

He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.

Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.

He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.

Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.

He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.

So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.

He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.

Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.

His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.

So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.

He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.

You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.

He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.

It smells very strongly of you.

It’s his now.

He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.

He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.

But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.

Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.

He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.

You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.

After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.

It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.

He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.

But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:

I won’t let you forget us

-Kook

It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…

He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.

As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.

And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.

He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.

He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.

He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.

He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.

He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.

It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.

He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.

He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.

But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.

He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.

He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.

It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…

You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.

But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.

You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.

It’s off. Somethings not quite right.

You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fuck.

You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.

You feel that zap again.

You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.

After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.

You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.

He left pieces of himself for you.

Zap.

You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.

Zap.

You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.

But then you read the note.

I won’t let you forget us.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…

Calm before the storm.

You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.

You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.

The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.

The flower is dead.

And now you break.

Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.

Can’t fight it now.

You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.

You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.

It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?

No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.

All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.

Bring him back to you.

Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.

Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.

But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.

So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.

Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.

Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.

It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #18+ only #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #i love jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction

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writerpetals · 6 months

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when you watch | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w; voyeurism/exhibitionism ... this was hard to edit with no names! LOL so bear with me! just have two people in mind that you like while reading this story ... one that you want performing and one you want watching hehe i know you can think of two cause we're all hoes around here anyway <3

His habit of falling asleep on the couch after spending half the night watching movies normally only earns him a sore back and heavy eyes the following day, but when he spots your boyfriend and you stumbling into the apartment he shares with you, he realizes tonight offers him a bit more. His sleepy eyes flutter open at the sound of a lock clicking, and your giggling as he notices your boyfriend’s head shoved into the crook of your neck only pulls him further from dreamland as he becomes wide awake.

He blinks to make sure he’s seeing correctly, but how could he miss the way you both slip off your shoes, pull your coats from your shoulders, and toss your keys aside before your arms wrap around the neck before you, which only makes him stir beneath the thin blanket that drapes over his body wearing nothing but gray sweats. His bare chest heaves at the sight of your head falling back against the apartment door, allowing your boyfriend’s lips and hands to wander, and it doesn’t take long for you to begin mumbling something about something that goes unheard.

Luckily, the apartment lighting is dim, and there’s no way for either of you to actually spot him awake. As long as he remains still, frozen, watching the scene unfold as his heart skips a beat when he catches a hand slip beneath your skirt.

“I wanna come,” you whine in a not so quiet whisper, and his eyes bulge at the sound of your playful voice traveling from the front door over to where he lays on the couch. He licks his lips, gulps, and yells at himself in his mind that he shouldn’t be watching, that he should roll over, close his eyes if he’s not going to make it known he’s awake.

But it wouldn't be the first time he’s listened in to the two of you. Even if he is catching the two of you in plain sight now, there have been nights before when he heard you moaning from the other room, telling him you’re getting close, whimpering that you’re coming. He would never admit to anyone that he’s gotten off to it more times than he’s proud to even realize, and he guesses it’s what keeps him from tearing his eyes away now.

You whimper once again in a breathless, needy voice that has his cock bulging beneath his sweatpants, an ache already setting in at just the thought of what’s about to take place. “Get on your knees.” The sight of your boyfriend dropping to the floor with no hesitation makes his cock twitch in his pants, finding it harder to sit still and not reveal that he’s awake. The last thing he needs is his roommate, and his roommate’s boyfriend, pissed at him for being a spying creep. Though he knows it’s anything but right, he can’t help himself.

The sound of your moans as your lover pushes your skirt higher and begins kissing over the fabric of your panties finally causes him to snap. He can’t resist reaching for his cock, beginning to palm himself over his sweats while remaining thankful the blanket is covering him for the most part. He supresses his own noises by biting down on his bottom lip, but his breaths grow heavy the moment he spots fingers sinking into the band of your panties, pulling the flimsy cotton down your legs to be tossed to the side.

Even in the dim lighting he can see your awaiting slit as your boyfriend props a leg over his shoulder a moment before leaning between your thighs once again, and God does the sight make him wish more than ever he was the one tasting you. But he settles for being a silent audience for now, never pulling his eyes away, and from the way you whimper your boyfriend’s name, he can only assume your folds are being teased by a diligent tongue.

The thought has him reaching with a shaky hand to push his sweats lower, uncovering his cock before wrapping a strong grip around the base. He tries his best not to make any sudden movements, but he guesses from the way your head is tossed back and your hips begin to roll that you’re far from paying attention to him. As he begins to stroke his own cock in slow, yet steady motions, he decides he doesn’t care in the moment. The sight of his roommate being eaten out by her boyfriend takes precedence, and between your moans, the face buried between your thighs, and him stroking his own cock, he can no longer care about right and wrong.

His breaths deepen just as your moans grow louder, and part of him wonders if you do it on purpose just so he will hear. Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind, he realizes as much as he begins to hear groans from between your thighs in the moment. Your hands fall to grip the strands of hair below you, and he begins stroking himself quicker, tightening his grip while imagining how you taste. Part of him is envious it’s not him giving you pleasure, slipping his tongue between your folds, circling your clit, making you moan, and the other part is thankful he gets to witness such a sight that has his cock so painfully erect and twitching every time you whimper the other man’s name.

The pleasure overtakes the guilt in his chest, no longer worried over watching something he shouldn’t see, and not even worried over getting caught, but feeling the bliss fill his body as he runs his palm along his length, precum dripping from the tip, balls tightening against his body. He’s getting close and he’s barely even started, too affected by your moans, the sight of the mouth working between your legs, too focused on imagining how wet you are or how incredible it would feel to have your juices drip against his tongue.

His eyes close a moment later, keeping that vision of you pressed against the door with your boyfriend on his knees in his mind. He strokes himself quicker, twitching against his own palm each time you make a noise, biting his lip hard to try to keep his own groans in check, but he’s becoming weaker. He’s breathless and needy and wishes his face was buried between your legs. If not, he wishes he could watch freely, imagining what it would be like if the thought of him focused on the pleasure someone else gives you gets you off quicker. His cock twitches and his balls tighten at that, finding himself worked up all over again at just the idea of you being as into it as him.

He can feel himself getting close, and his eyes flutter open to take one last look at the two of you. Your boyfriend grips your thigh with a strong hold, fingers pressed so tightly to your skin and he is sure it’s to keep you from moving too wildly against his tongue. You’re worked up, getting close with your jaw slacked, legs trembling, causing him to wonder what it feels like if your thighs were wrapped around him as you come undone. He can feel the pressure building with your every whimper, the pleasure swelling as he watches, the tension tightening when he imagines being a part of the scene taking place by the front door.

Without warning he snaps, bliss unraveling inside him and thick, white ropes spilling onto his bare stomach. He’s breathless and needy as he tries to keep quiet, hips bucking into his hand, milking his cock for every last, messy drop that releases onto his flesh. He doesn’t stop pumping himself as he listens for the moment you gasp your lover’s name, finding your own ending with a skilled tongue between your thighs, and his head buzzes with the thought of the two of you getting off at the same time.

He barely has time to catch his breath before you’re pushing your boyfriend away with cute little giggles, being guided to the bedroom for clean up while he can breathe a sigh of relief in getting away with something. He waits for the click of your door before he moves, tiptoeing to the bathroom to find a rag to clean the mess he’s made over his stomach, rushing to finish so neither of you catch him.

Once he’s done, he tiptoes to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and managing to fall asleep with a satisfied grin on his face, feeling as if he’s gotten away with the unthinkable.

Or at least, he assumes he has, until morning comes and you find him in the kitchen making a bowl of cereal. There’s a sly smirk on your lips that makes his heart sink, and the moment you narrow your eyes toward him with his mouth full of Captain Crunch, his stomach begins to twist at the possibility.

“Maybe you can join us next time instead of just watching,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as he leans against the counter, mouth full with a bowl in his hand. “It’s not like I haven’t heard you getting off to us before.”

He remains frozen in place, unable to move, or speak, or even breathe after realizing you were on to him the entire time, knowing he’s getting off to not only the sounds, but now the sight of the two of you.

“Don’t worry,” you begin again, pausing to search the fridge for orange juice, and turning to him with a wide smile after finding the carton, “it definitely helped me get off faster when you watch.”

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verxsyon · 1 year

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·:*¨༺ ❝ !𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ❞

!steal: a command set by your significant other who accidentally walks in during one of your streams. response: chat already forgot about their favorite strimmer (streamer). he has stolen the show.

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. isagi yoichi + bachira meguru + chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke + barou shouei + niko ikki + mikage reo + nagi seishiro + itoshi rin + itoshi sae x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. headcanon (written) ; 1.2k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. established relationship au, streamer au ; fluff

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. allusions to nudity (kunigami)

✧ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚. i’m finally putting my streamer status to good use! (ahaha, shameless promo: check my pinned for my twitch channel! variety but mostly honkai and genshin so far.) bllk singlehandedly pulled me out of my one-month hiatus lol.

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢. checks up on you on a regular basis to see how you’re doing. if applicable, he’ll inform you that his parents stopped by to drop off gifts for you, which happens very frequently, to thank you for treating their son with so much love. observant; knows when to not go to your room as you’ll be busy streaming, and that’s because it’s been hours since you showed up at his side. this time, however, he fails to read the message his parents sent of visiting the both of you until the very last minute. sprints to your room, forgetting that you’re streaming, then apologizes profusely and leaves. you just sit confused, and your chat’s imploring you to drag your cute s/o back.

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮. likes to pull pranks and other questionable things to get your attention, especially when you’re playing intense games that require so much investment, which can be good times to scare you. ever since the very beginning of your streaming career, he has been swinging around your setup like a jungle gym to see if he can distract you. now in subsequent streams, his distractions created a competition between the both of you to see which of you will reach your goal. for this round, he successfully led to your death against a mini boss and his conditions are to just hold him. with your chat in awe of his determination, you chide them to not credit him at all.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐢 𝐡𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐚. is bored out of his mind. his skincare routines don’t help make you magically appear next to him. grows very impatient, deciding to bring nail polish and makeup pouches to your room so he can spend time with you already that way. blocks out your setup and the chat from his mind so you can be the only one who matters at this moment. of course you need both hands to navigate through your games, but eventually give into his requests because he misses you, even though in close proximity. you switch to another scene to talk with your audience while he paints your nails. off the side, but your chat ogles at his hands with sweat drops and eye emojis.

𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞. was working out when all of a sudden he hears you scream. worried about the possibility of you getting injured, he immediately ditches his routine and rushes to your side, only to see “game over” displayed on your screen and your head on your desk. he doesn’t know that your facecam is on every stream, so when you look up, you scream even louder when his naked torso is exposed to your viewers — thousands of them. he ignores your question of why he’s in your room shirtless, asking if you’re okay. you apologize for scaring him to death, missing out on an outburst of “muscles” in all caps and all other down badness in the chat.

𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐞𝐢. glares a hole into your soul in the background, much like the supernatural creatures you’ve encountered in horror games on stream. the genre becomes so addicting that you’ve forgotten to take care of things around the house while he’s gone. he’s mad, but becomes more concerned because just from a single glance, he can tell that you haven’t taken breaks. takes the liberty to finish up your share and will cook your favorite food. scolds your chat instead for not looking after you properly and tells them to do better. one half gushes over his endearment while the other half types out… some interesting animalistic sounds about his tone of voice then.

𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨 𝐢𝐤𝐤𝐢. barges in sometimes to borrow some of your belongings for… pretty much everything. it’s a running joke in your community for you to ask your viewers to donate to the “niko [insert whatever he borrowed that day] foundation”. he’s also a well-known streamer so everyone’s been wondering why he hasn’t taken the initiative to buy the necessities for his setup rather than borrowing yours every time. the reason is simple; he’s been your fan before the two of you started dating, and having your belongings nearby is proof of your support for his career. flatly denies it, but the amount of coos in the chatbox makes him super flustered.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐨. surprises you with a new complete set of equipment to celebrate your milestone. not an expert in streaming in contrast to what everyone expects from a jack of all trades, but his connections with tech companies taught him what he needed to know. despite being told of your plan to use the donations from your viewers to upgrade at least one component of your setup, he says you deserve an upgrade of your entire set from working extremely hard to make a name for yourself in the streamer world. he kisses you as a reward which makes your chat malfunction with keyboard smashes. when he leaves, they beg him to come back to give them kisses as well.

𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨. trudges into your room with a groan that resembles the enemies in the game you’re streaming. he doesn’t pay attention to himself being shown live unkempt; his priority was to get you to cuddle with him. he latches onto your back by draping his arms on your shoulders and tucks his head into your neck. you give a small massage on his scalp and then ask him how to beat the stage you’re on since he beat the game a while ago. he whines, a frequent habit these days, saying he’s lonely and wants your hugs. you promise to give him all the hugs he wants, but it seems like your chat has that taken care of because he’s too cute… and sounded very desperate.

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧. memorizes your schedule well enough to not disturb you as he normally comes in right after you end and edit to be uploaded to another streaming platform. the one time he does, he brings in a food tray because he knows you didn’t eat, only for him to silently judge you playing through a physical fitness game. he waits for you to finally notice him, and when you do, he roasts your gameplay of being “lukewarm” and gives you your meal before leaving. you stop him, challenging him in a duel to see if he can do better. poor you, because everyone in your chat is rooting for him and you bet it’s all thanks to his pretty face you’d want to punch (and kiss) afterwards.

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐞. startles you with a kiss on the top of your head once he returns from his trip to spain. he isn’t expected to come home until much later, but there have been circumstances that allowed him to go back otherwise. you jump out of your seat to welcome him home with a hug, instantly forgetting that you’re streaming and you have viewers who are witnessing this affectionate exchange. the glow of your setup in the corner of your eye manages to get you scurrying back to your seat, demanding your chat to pretend they didn’t see anything. they deflect it by asking him “give us more”, which he (on the inside) happily entertains.

✧ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. if your url is in bold, it means i can’t tag you!

@2018-01-20 ; @astranne ; @kamiiyaka ; @keqism ; @lilikags ; @wanderersbell ; @venexus

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phefics · 4 months

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This just came to my mind while I was studying for my psychology exam - but what do you think THG would be like if they were dating a reader who is a theatre performer? Like them picking the reader up from rehearsals that ran overtime, watching their performances and listening to them talk about their crazy (and sometimes kinda weird) rehearsal memories?

I hope this makes sense because I am not too great with explaining things

this is so cute, not weird at all!! you didn't specify the guys so i'm gonna do all the characters i write for. hope you like!! xo

coryo is supportive, mostly because he likes the idea of dating someone who could be famous one day. he brags about your talents to people at school/work, and comes to every show, sits in the front row, and brings you roses. he admires your dedication, even when it means staying late to run scenes or crazy rehearsal stories.

finnick loves to watch you perform. he's been caught trying to sneak into your rehearsals before, and given you a sheepish grin as he's escorted out of the theater. he's just so captivated by you. as someone who has spent a lot of his life performing against his will, he loves to watch you flourish doing something you love. he loves hearing about cast drama, like straight up will make popcorn to listen to the gossip.

gale isn't super into theater but will be supportive! he likes that you have a hobby you're so passionate about, even if he doesn't understand. he tries to make every show when he isn't busy with work, and has terrible theater ettiquette the first time and keeps cheering every time you're on stage, so you have to explain that he can't do that, lol. he also picks you up from rehearsals because he won't let you walk home late at night, ever.

haymitch isn't very into the arts, in general - he's just never had an urge to consume it or have a hobby of his own. but seeing you feel so passionate about it and have so much fun opens him up to the idea a lot, and i can see him definitely going to your shows and finding the beauty in live theater.

johanna would be a stage crew girly, so i think she would participate in your theatre stuff (if it was local/small, i don't think she would pursue it as a career) and she does the lights or sound. definitely ignores directions so she can put the spotlight on you even when you aren't talking in a scene.

katniss is very supportive, but i don't see her being into theatre at all - she'll go to your shows but doesn't really vibe with it, so she's there to support you but wouldn't go if you weren't involved. if you are in a musical production, though, she will get the songs stuck in her head and whistle/sing them around the house.

lucy gray is probably also involved in theatre!! or, she at least totally understands your passion as well as your workload. if you do musical theatre, she helps you practice your songs and learns them on guitar so she can play them for you. she is always cheering so loud in the audience - she is so supportive and loving.

peeta would probably get involved in your production behind the scenes, painting sets. he is so supportive and i could even see him joining the show if you convinced him he'd be good - he's clearly a very charming actor and would probably find it fun. if he doesn't join you, though, he is in the front row of every single performance with flowers.

sejanus is the most supportive boyfriend ever, i swear. he will singlehandeldly fund your local theatre just so you can participate. he takes time off of work to go to every single show, and has flowers sent to you backstage. he helps you rehearse at home, always being a bit goofy and over-the-top when he reads the lines.

tigris would probably be involved as well, designing and altering costumes!! she loves to design and sew and having that outlet that benefits the community as well as her partner would make her really happy.

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luckybunny555 · 10 months

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⋆｡˚⋆ Little artists - Spidey Squad ⋆｡˚⋆

You had to take care of Mayday while at the Spider Society, so you decided to have an artistic play date, but you caught someone's attention

Characters: Miles 1610!, Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr. Not necessarily romantic, can be read as platonic too! GN! reader(lmk if the compliments I used aren't gender neutral, english isn't my first language!)

A/N: this is my first time writing for Miles and Pav, I have no idea how to write accurate dialogue for them(and maybe Gwen and Hobie too lol) but I tried

Peter B. had to participate in one of Miguel's meetings, and Mayday wouldn't be quiet, she's got the explorer instinct and curiosity in her

You were bored of Miguel's voice, always complaining or scolding or something, you didn't really know because you totally tuned him out a while ago

Since you got along well with kids, and you clearly weren't paying attention to the meeting, he asked you to take care of her for a little while – and how could you say no when she's almost begging you to hold her, adorably extending her arms to you?

You totally accepted

So you had an idea. You remembered you kept some colorful markers in the bottom of your bag, because who knows when you might get the urge to draw something, right?

You take your markers, but you don't know where to draw, can't find any paper

Then you had another idea

Why not leave your and Mayday's mark on the wall? A sweet, sweet gift for Miguel to find at some point

You sit down on the floor, legs crossed and Mayday on your lap, markers scattered all around you

You give her a hand when she needs it, but we've seen how agile and quick to learn she is, she'll get the hang of it in no time

You draw on the wall too. Maybe you have a petty distaste for Miguel, maybe you like to defy authority and break rules, maybe you just wanna give the place a bit of color... You have your reasons(or maybe you don't? you do you)

You make sure your drawings don't overlap with hers, giving her plenty of space to express herself and create her colorful little masterpiece

And you add your little details to your drawings, personal touches to mark it as yours

But you weren't the only person who got bored at the meeting

Miles

He was sick and tired of hearing about canon events and whatever else Miguel had to say

He was looking around, not thinking about anything, just trying to find something interesting to distract him with

Then his eyes landed on you

When he saw you and Mayday surrounded by a bunch of markers, drawing on Miguel's wall? He just had to join

Dude just walks over with that big smile of his, sits next to you and starts asking you about your "play date"

"What're you guys doing over here?"

You stop to take a look at him, unaware that you had a (one man) audience, and explain your idea to entertain Mayday

"Oh, that looks cool! Can I join?" He grabs a marker and waits for your answer, you could see how excited about it he was

You playfully slap his arm and nod

When he starts, you take a few moments just to look at his process, observing the way he looks when he's all concentrated in his drawings and wondering about how it'll turn out

After a while, you continue yours, you and Miles sharing a few jokes and tips as you both laugh

Occasionally, you guys would help Mayday, and you couldn't help but smile, seeing just how great with kids Miles was

He's just so careful and friendly with her, not to mention he also has that "childlike wonder" and youthful energy that makes him connect so well with kids

When you guys are done with it, he'll take a selfie/picture of it(with you and Mayday in it), so he can take a look at it in his gallery whenever he misses you – never fails to make him smile

Hobie

He's sitting on a table, legs extended over it, not caring about the meeting since the moment Miguel opened his mouth to speak, even though he's still listening

He's an observer, so he already had his eyes taking in everything that was going on in the room, his gaze occasionally turning to your bored expression, or to Peter when he handed Mayday to you

His attention would shift from time to time, but when you sat down in front of the wall with all those markers, he was too intrigued to take his eyes off of you

A little while after you started drawing with the kid, he got up from the table and made his way to you, leaning casually against the wall, clearly observing you and Mayday

"Adding a lil' punk flair to Miguel's boring old wall?" He says with that signature smirk of his

You look up, stopping your drawing for a moment, and let out a chuckle

You hold out one of your markers, asking if he wants to join

He obviously accepted. Leaving his mark on Miguel's wall? it's a surprise if he hasn't done that already

He'll make it as vibrant and punk as possible

And he's damn good at it, like c'mon, you've seen his guitar, his jacket... the guy's an amazing artist

Every once in a while you'll stop just to admire how the drawings are turning out, or how cute and caring Hobie looks when interacting with Mayday

The three of you make a colorful mess on that wall, and when you're done, oh, does it look awesome

He'll friendly fist bump you, praising you for your artwork – and your "defiant artistic expression" idea or something like that ;)

Gwen

She was trying to pay attention to the meeting, she really was

But she couldn't help but be curious and intrigued by what you and Mayday were doing, sitting on the floor in front of a wall

So she quietly made her way towards you, careful not to draw anyone's attention and get you into trouble

She leaned against the wall, a slightly amused(admiring) grin on her face as she observed the scene

The both of you looked up at her, and she just admired how cute you two looked for a moment

She noticed how good you were with kids, and it kinda gave her butterflies, you were so adorable

You asked if she wanted to leave her mark on the wall too, but she didn't wanna get into trouble with Miguel, so she kindly refused

"I'm not much of an artist anyways"

But she did sit next to you to help Mayday with her little drawings

So the three of you just sat there for a while, Gwen lovingly admiring you while you were so focused on your artwork there, and you guys would talk about a bunch of stuff

Very supportive of Mayday's artistic expression as well, compliments even the ones with uneven, crooked lines and messy coloring

She completely forgot about the meeting btw, she'll ask someone later what it was about, but right now she just wants to talk to you and watch you do your thing

She kinda can't take her eyes off of you, you look so fascinating and beautiful when you're focused on your "creative project"

She'll totally compliment you when it's done, she genuinely adored it and she appreciates your talent, it's really impressive to her

Pavitr

My logic is that if dogs love him, kids must love him too(who wouldn't love this sunshine of a boy tbh?)

You caught his attention when he saw Mayday in your arms, how adorable she looked as you played with her

A few moments after you sat down to start drawing with her, he had to approach you out of curiosity

Mayday immediately smiles at him, doing that "hand grab" reach thing that kids do when they wanna be picked up

He just wins kids' heart so easily, ok? It's adorable, really

He'd start off just helping Mayday, but then he wouldn't resist to add his own touch to the wall, and he's so excited about it, smiling and laughing while you guys talk and draw

"Aaah this looks amazing! You're such a great artist" this boy gives the most excited compliments, he genuinely appreciates your art style

Every few moments he'll take a look at what you're doing and comment on it, so much praise and excitement from him

And he'll be Mayday's biggest cheerleader too, anything she draws he'll be like "Yeess, it looks great, little one!" and give her a high five

And his drawing looks hella cool too, I totally see him as an "arts and crafts" guy, so he totally has some experience

You'll see the pure joy and pride in his face once you guys finish your artwork, he totally loves it and he enjoyed every second of it with you and Mayday

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blue-jisungs · 6 months

Text

red and blue colored jealousy

author's note. thank u zanna @slytherinshua for coloring the yul pic <333 i hope u enjoy it!!! the bestest boy ever :( also!! my yet another take on "eloquent" wording hehehehe 🤓☝️

word count. 1.9kish

warnings. its not a warning techinally lol but its fem!reader ++ reader is wearing a hanbok for women and has long hair.... theres no aos spoilers (i think) + its not specified when its taking place so feel free to interpret it ur way lol ++ not proof-read sorrrrryyyyyyyy

the tender music of kayagum, haegum, choktae and other instruments filled the room. the lights were slightly dimmed, a couple of candles casting shadows on the walls and curtains.

the crown prince sighed heavily, shifting on his seat.

“what is all of this?” he asked, fingers drumming against the wooden surface of the table. seo yul smiled softly, looking at uk.

“due to all the stress and hustle happening in the city, we decided to fill out spare time with some happiness” yul explained gently, nodding. park danggu shushed them, parting the table in excitement.

“it’s starting!”

go won was about to ask how could he tell but then some of the candles went out, as if a gust of wind did it. however, everyone felt a sudden invisible force causing them to shiver.

“did someone open the window…?” uk blinked and then they heard a faint rustle.

chwiseonru didn’t have a stage, to be frank. they just moved a couple of tables and cleared some space. the ladies sitting on the cushions, dressed in pink and purple coloured hanboks were on the ground. their fingers gently strummed their instruments, touches feather-alike.

suddenly, there were footsteps. everyone in the tavern noticed a woman.

she was wearing a black hanbok with crimson sewed details. small leaves and flowers adorned the cloth on the sides. she had her long hair braided, loosely put and swaying on her shoulder.

her hands were slim and her pointer finger was adorned with a red jewel. it shone beautifully, ruby and crimson glittering in the faint light. if one looked closer, they were about to realise it’s one of the half of ying and yang stone.

however, her face was hidden behind two fans. one of them was black with faint agate details, the other was an opposite – red with black sewings.

she held them in a way that hid her face, which only made the viewers more curious.

suddenly the pace of music fastened and the woman started flapping her fans a bit more rapidly. with swift and hypnotising moves of her body, she revealed her face.

she had some artistic makeup on her face: a curved line forming under her eyes that created a crooked circle, only to connect above her brows. two, small ruby stones were glued on her cheekbones symmetrically.

yul noticed the way the prince’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing and lips parting in awe. the mage scoffed, ignoring his friend’s gaze.

the performer moved gracefully, just like water. her moves were clean and gentle, the flutter of fans creating her own music. uk frowned upon noticing the similarities between some of her dance moves and chisu or even hwansu.

“she’s gorgeous” go won breathed out, his eyes focused on the dancer.

the performer’s face remained cold and expressionless, eyes trained in the audience. a brief eye contact with the prince caused him to smile and nod. whereas yul just clutched his fist, uk was growing more and more suspicious.

the song seemed to reach its climax, beat going faster and faster. nevertheless, the dancer didn’t fail to catch up, moves becoming more sharp and sturdy.

with a sudden thrust, the rest of the candles went out. briefly after, she finished the performance ending in the same position she started.

people started clapping and cheering, go won cleared his throat.

“who… is she?” he asked quietly, turning to the others. in the meantime, the servers lit up the candles again.

“l/n y/n” a female voice rung up from behind him, causing the crown prince to jerk in surprise.

yul sent you a soft smile, your face visible in the light once again.

the crown prince turned around and grabbed your hand, placing a gentle peck on the top of it.

“your performance was stunning. i have never seen anything like this in my entire life! the music, your moves and grace… truly breathtaking. how come i haven’t seen you perform before?” he asked, eyes sparking with adoration.

you chuckled sweetly, bowing elegantly.

“thank you, your highness. i had a break from performing… someone insisted i started dancing again which is why i’m here” you smiled and caught yul’s ebony irises on you. you couldn’t read his expression.

“thank gods that person convinced you. sincerely speaking, im fully mesmerised with you” the prince smirked, a playful smile dancing on his lips

“i’m pleased to hear that, my prince” you bowed once again, noticing uk’s sturdy gaze on you.

“i shall invite you to my castle one day”’ go won hummed. you nodded with a satisfied smile.

“i appreciate that you’re thinking so highly of me, my prince…” you started and looked above his head, only to meet seo yul’s gaze. you weren’t meant to finish as another compliment was landed at you.

“and your fans… may i have a look at them? they look absolutely stunning” he asked.

normally, you’d refuse. but it was the crown prince after all.

nodding and handing him your fans, you saw how he traced the detailed sewings on them.

“beautiful work. may i know by who was it made?” go won asked, rising his head up to look at you. he was amazed not only by your dancing skills but also your beauty. especially those e/c eyes.

“it was a gift from a dear friend of mine” you explained and took back the fans once he handed them to you.

“i see. will you perform again?” the crown prince asked, flirty tone in his voice.

you were meant to give just one dance.

but who were you to deny the majesty’s request?

you finished shortly after midnight, the moonlight sneaking through the windows. the prince wanted more and more, enchanted by you. only when he noticed that your musicians are getting tired, he decided to stop. bidding you farewell (not failing to shower you in compliments once again), he was gone. the ordinary people went home, leaving just a couple of drunkards and the mages left. they decided to return to the jeongjingak.

when you left, they stayed for a bit longer to finish their drinks. yul put his hands on his thighs, observing the crown prince.

“i’m really enchanted. who invited her?” the man asked. uk was about to snicker a joke about being so love-struck.

“yul! yul knows y/n, they’re good friends!” danggu yelled out, a bit more louder than he intended. yul felt his eyes widening as the prince’s thundering gaze shifted to him.

“seriously? and you never introduced me to her? seo yul, i’m disappointed” the crown prince tsked.

“i never knew you were a fan of such things, your highness” yul bowed his head and stood up. the sudden motion combined with couple of drops of alcohol in his system caused his vision to blur.

“ah, it’s a shame i only discovered her now. but better now than never, hm?” go win tilted his head and observed yul’s rosy cheeks.

“yul-ah, you seem distracted. is everything alright?” uk asked, worried. he stood up and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“yeah, i’m just tired. we shall go. i need to get one thing done and i’ll join you in jeongjingak” yul sighed. he bowed and left them, ignoring their weird looks.

there was a sudden knock at your door. you let out a sigh but your gaze didn’t leave your reflection in the mirror.

“i’m sorry, your highness, but the performance is over” you called, hands working on untying your braid.

“oh, my apologies. i just hoped for a quick chat with such an amazing dancer”

you turned around and your face lit up upon seeing yul. he smiled wildly when your eyes met.

“oh for you master yul… i suppose i could make some time” you teased. yul closed the door and approached you slowly, as you reassumed to unbraid your hair “did you enjoy the show?”

“oh, of course i did. anyone would be a fool not to enjoy it” he hummed, placing his hands on your arms and massaging them gently “a certain individual seemed to enjoy it especially…”

“oh?” you rose your eyebrows, meeting his dark-brown irises in the mirror’s reflection. his face was pensive, brows furrowed and jaw tensed.

he huffed and leaned a bit forward, grabbing your hair gently and putting it on your back. as he started to unbraid your hair tenderly, careful not to tug too harshly, you started to wipe off your performance makeup.

“the crown prince fell in love, i recon” he murmured, shrugging nonchalantly.

“with the performance? i mean, i’d be rather upset if the future king wasn’t entertained with my dance” you hummed and put away the dirty cloths, your face now bare.

“i think he was more found of you than the show itself, y/n” seo yul sighed and parted the last parts of your hair, finally letting it flow on your back loosely.

“hm… it flatters me, truly” you smiled and noticed his brows twitch “yul?”

“yes, dear?” he asked, sitting down next to you. he looked at the stone on your finger, smiling subconsciously.

“are you jealous?” asking, you raised the corner of your lip.

he just rolled his eyes playfully, yet no words were spoken.

“oh yul…” you giggled and poked his chest “you seemed to kill him with your gaze the second he opened his mouth while he was talking to me”

“stop talking such nonsense about the future head of the country…” seo yul grunted, avoiding your gaze. a slight blush adorned the tips of his ears.

he leaned and grabbed your fans, holding them gently.

you observed how he traced the black sewing, then moving to the red one. he was thinking about something, absentmindedly moving his fingers along the soft fabric.

“i’m sorry” you huffed, placing your hand over his “i tried to hold a distance but he was too…”

“it’s a future king, they tend to get too blind to notice someone is uncomfortable” yul scoffed and looked up at you, suddenly reaching out and holding your chin with his free hand. he tilted his head, a faint smirk dancing on his lips “but you’re mine”

“mhm” you hummed in agreement and waited for him to shorten the distance between you two.

as your lips finally met, your head went spiralling. every kiss with seo yul was like the first time, always so passionate and tender.

you’ve been dating yul for a while now, yet you were keeping your relationship secret from the public eye. and for the time you’ve spent with your lover, you noticed his habits… such as struggling to word out his love. however, his words just weren’t verbal: yul adored to shower you with gifts and small gestures.

like those fans you always perform with. or the finest performance makeup supplies he got from afar. or the handmade hanbok for you to perform in. or the musicians.

or the ring.

as you felt the air escaping your lungs, you moved your hand from his and put it at the back of his neck.

leaning away, you noticed his flushed cheeks.

“i’m yours, yul. not going anywhere, even if the prince offers me to rule the country” you chuckled and tapped his ring, the blue part that matched yours.

“good” yul huffed, noticing the gesture.

after all, the red and blue yin and yang jade was the symbol for ever lasting love for a reason.

masterlist <3

taglist. @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jiwuu ,, @ameliesaysshooo ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @primoppang ,, @dazzlingligth

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wonwoonlight · 1 year

Text

shiny star / kim mingyu

➝ Mingyu x Reader (ft. Jungkook, Chaeyoung, Chungha, etc.)

➝ shiny star!au // university!au // non idol!au // friends to ??? // fluff // slice of life

➝ word count: 5.9~k

➝ warning: curses, food, mingyu is flirty (??) but not a playboy, he's way too perfect lol, basketball captain!gyu, OC is cool af according to me😎

➝ inspired by: Shiny Star (2020) - KyoungSeo

➝ shiny star playlist // Shiny Star masterlist (can be read as standalone)

Seungcheol // Jeonghan // Joshua // Junhui // Soonyoung // Wonwoo // Jihoon // Seokmin // Mingyu // Minghao // Seungkwan // Hansol // Chan

A/N: as you've all guessed, here's Mingyu's Shiny Star! happy birthday, Gyu! this was fun to write and i'm pretty happy with how it turned out aha. hopefully yall would like this as much as i do, and pls do drop by and tell me what you think of this after you read

숨이 가득 차올라서 아무 말 하지 못했는데 I couldn’t say anything because I’m out of breath

너는 말 없이 웃으며 내 손 잡아줬죠 But you took my hands without saying anything but a smile

[✾✾✾]

This would sound annoying, but Mingyu is used to getting confessions. He enjoys the attention, enjoys knowing that people admire him even though he barely does anything. Yes, he’s handsome, has good grades, and is the star of the basketball team, but they all come effortlessly to Kim Mingyu.

He is God’s favorite, after all.

You genuinely think that whatever religion Mingyu believes in, every god that’s in charge of grace all helped to shape him.

But it’s not always a good thing. Because, fuck, it’s so stupid that your heart flutters when he grins at the audience after shooting a three-pointers. He’s not even looking at you, and he’s so cocky because he salutes to everyone as he runs through the court to hug his teammates. And yet butterflies would fly like crazy inside you and you want to hate it but you don’t.

Another reason why it’s stupid: you didn’t realize you’ve been staring at him–well, really, you’re staring at a random spot behind him because you’re zoning out, but it is him in your mind, so–until Mingyu tilts his head and asks if there’s something in his face because you’ve been staring at him for the past five minutes.

You blink at the question, as if brought back from a trance, and Mingyu chuckles and shakes his head before pouring water in the empty glass in front of you.

“You haven’t even drunk that much.” He grins as you thank him and take the water.

You’ve somehow been roped into the basketball team’s celebratory dinner, along with Chungha and Chaeyoung who are sitting on the other side of the table. Well, not somehow, you guess, because you’re friends with those two girls (who basically possess free passes to every social function in the university) and your childhood friend, Jeon Jungkook, is also in the team. Which means, you actually hang out a lot with the guys–and that includes Mingyu.

He’s barely even a friend despite your embarrassing crush, and you’re not that close even if you hang out a lot with the team.

“What’s bothering you?” Jungkook plops down beside you once Chungha goes to the restroom. He’s noticed you’ve been distracted from earlier, but you don’t seem to be in a bad mood or anything–simply too deep in your own thoughts.

You consider shaking your head and telling him nothing. What can you say anyway? ‘No biggies, I just have a crush on your captain here.’

“Just… something.” You leave it at that.

Jungkook isn’t the closest friend you have and you don’t always tell him everything, but he’s known you for way too long to know how to read your body language and your mood. Which is cool, but not really when you feel like hiding something.

That, together with his curiosity and his tendency to pry when he has nothing else to care about is not a combination you’re particularly fond of.

He narrows his eyes at you, and before he can say anything, you take a spoonful of cake and shove it inside his mouth with an innocent smile. Mingyu chuckles from across you both, and Jungkook glares at you even though he happily swallows the cake and frowns in delight after.

“I’m not letting this go.” He says under his breath before throwing an arm on top of your chair.

“Whatever you say.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t you have some girl to flirt with? Why are you here?”

“What, I can’t be with you? The oldest friend I have in my life?” He mocks a heartache, which you don’t even pretend to care about. Jungkook doesn’t usually sit beside you during this kinda gathering because someone always pulls him first, and you’re sure he wants something from you. He pouts at your deadpanned eyes. “My social battery is out. I want to go home.”

“I’m not your mom.”

“They won’t let me go if I ask.” He whines like a kid. “Tell them you want to go home so I can go with you? Please?”

Mingyu watches the interaction in amusement. He knows a lot of people envy you for being able to bring this side out of Jungkook, but anyone with a working brain cell can tell that there’s nothing sort of romantic between you two. Even from the very first time he saw you, he could already tell that you and Jungkook are nothing but friends.

But sometimes people just see what they want to see, though fortunately you don’t seem to care about stuff like that. Mingyu doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s clear that you’re your own person and you don’t really care about what people say about you.

He’s seen first hand you ignoring some girl saying shit in front of your face due to your close relationship with Jungkook, simply saying ‘you done? I have class in ten minutes’ after they rambled and leaving them dumbfounded after. (He thinks you’re so cool after witnessing that by accident.)

It’s not a secret that Jungkook is protective of you though. He always is when it comes to his friends. And Mingyu also knows that some of his friends have backed out from shooting their shots because they don’t want to go through Jungkook.

Cowards.

If he was interested in you, he wouldn’t care all that much about Jungkook.

Alas.

“I’ll take you to that dessert place in Cheongdam if we go home now.” He hears Jungkook whisper, though he doesn’t see why the guy is whispering when no one seems to be listening to his hushed conversation with you except for him, that is.

“You’re paying.” You add before you stand up and announce you’re tired so you’re taking Jungkook home with you. Some people try to convince you to stay for a little bit more, but you make up some reasons about having to wake up early tomorrow.

“Can’t believe you’d use your friend like that, man.” Mingyu jokes when you leave to say bye to Chaeyoung and Chungha.

Jungkook shrugs. “That’s what friends are for.”

You tell Jungkook you’re ready to leave, and he immediately stands up from his seat and slings an arm around your shoulder. You give Mingyu a smile and a wave before proceeding to do the same to everyone else.

He fails to notice your shy demeanor when your eyes meet his, but Jungkook doesn’t and he brings it up the moment you’re inside the comfort of his car.

“So. Mingyu, huh?”

At this point, you’re not even surprised. But you’re going to play stupid first because why make it easy for him to pry?

“What’s with him?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Since when have you been crushing on him?” He shoots straight to it, and plasters his face right in front of yours.

You swat his face away and tell him to start the car already.

“I’m not doing shit until you tell me.”

“I thought you said you’re out of social battery?”

“You know you don’t count.”

“Oh, how special I’m feeling right now.”

You and Jungkook go into a stare off, and it’s during times like this that you hate his big, circle eyes because they get on your nerves. You sigh and repeat what you said earlier, saying that you’ll tell him as he drives you back home.

“You know I’m not going to say anything about it, right?” Jungkook says just in case.

“I know. I simply didn’t tell you because it’s nothing but a crush.” You connect your phone to his car’s bluetooth, choosing a random playlist on your Spotify. “I don’t like him enough for it to be worth mentioning.”

Apparently, he doesn’t believe this.

“Since when?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Since when?”

You sigh, regretting giving in to him.

“Like… a few months ago? That time you had practice until 1 in the morning and you asked me to pick you up.”

Jungkook’s answer is immediate together with a click of his tongue. “That’s not a crush alright. That was almost a semester ago.”

“Almost. So it’s not a semester ago.” If he wants to play stubborn, so can you.

“If you don’t like him enough, you wouldn’t be avoiding his eyes and zone out the way you did.”

“So, I’m a little shy, is that wrong?”

He softens at your defensive tone, and he takes one of your hands to squeeze it in comfort before letting it go.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Sure, let’s say it’s nothing but a crush–”

“–because it is–”

“–Why are you not doing anything about it? It’s been at least five months and you see him quite regularly.”

“I told you. It’s just a crush.” You shrug, failing to see why Jungkook is making a big deal out of this. “I don’t see us getting together. He’s way out of my league.”

Jungkook is actually so shocked he steps on the brake with a sudden force. Thankfully, it’s 11PM on a Thursday night and the road is practically empty.

“What the fuck do you mean he’s out of your league?” He’s offended for your sake, you realize, and while it warms you a little to know that he cares about you to this extent, you still don’t see why Jungkook is so adamant about this whole thing. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

“Dunno. Just feel that way. But like I said, it’s nothing but a crush, Kook. It’ll pass.”

He’s not satisfied with this answer, but you do that thing where you cross your arms and look out the window of his car, a sign that you’re done with this conversation.

So Jungkook drops it even though he’s skeptical it’ll really pass just like that. It’s not often that you’re interested in someone, and he knows for a fact that you tend to fall long and deep.

You ask him when he’ll be free to take you to the dessert place he promised earlier.

[✾✾✾]

Jungkook forgets time when he’s playing basketball, and it seems like he’s also forgotten he’s promised to drive you home today.

The day has felt particularly long for you for no reason and you figure it’s probably just one of those days. Since you woke up this morning, going home is the only thing you’re looking forward to, and if that doesn’t say enough, the fact that you don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at your friend should suffice because you really just want to go home and end the day.

There’s no time nor energy to be annoyed.

He doesn’t reply to your text when you ask where he is, and when you text Minghao and he says he’s on court, you simply exhale a deep breath before making your way there.

Mingyu is about to exit the court when you come in, and you don't realize just how bad your mood is until you see him and you don’t feel the usual rush of excitement. You don’t even register that it’s him until he calls you.

“Are you… okay?” He asks when he notices you’ve just noticed it’s him greeting you.

“Ah… yeah. Just one of those days.” You shrug, your smile way too polite for his liking. He doesn’t think he’s seen you like this, but, then again, he’s only seen so much of you.

That fact suddenly bothers him somehow.

For some reason, Mingyu feels like talking more. “You’re here to see Jungkook?”

In any other scenario, you would’ve noticed the question is stupid. You really only come there for Jungkook. Sometimes you’d go because Chaeyoung or Chungha wants to watch them practice, but you never go there alone if not for your childhood friend. This is a fact that everyone in the team is aware of.

Alas, you’re tired and you just want to go home.

“Yeah. He’s driving me home.”

If Mingyu notices how small your voice is, you don’t notice any shift in him because you’re too out of it.

“I don’t think he’s going to finish anytime soon.” He frowns, turning to where Jungkook is. The guy hasn’t noticed you yet, your figure is probably partly hidden by Mingyu’s and he’s way too focused on the game to see you anyway.

Mingyu isn’t sure what makes him say what he says next, but he does anyway.

“Do you… want me to bring you home instead?”

You’re so surprised that you practically snap your neck to finally see him in the eyes. You’re probably looking at him weird, because Mingyu immediately says he’s simply offering because you look too tired to be waiting around for Jungkook.

“Oh… no, sorry. Just didn’t expect you to offer, that’s all.” You reassure him. “I wouldn’t want to burden you, anyway. But thanks for offering.”

“You sure?” He asks, once again telling you that the current game has just started and Jungkook’s going to take quite some time to finish. “I don’t mind, really.”

Tomorrow, when your mood has picked up and your weak-ass-Mingyu-centric heart has started to work again, you’d wonder about why Mingyu offered at all. You’d be thinking about it for days to come, making all sorts of scenarios in your head.

But that’s a problem for you tomorrow. Right now you just want to go home with Jungkook because you can’t be bothered to walk to the bus stop when he has a perfectly working car that you can let your guard down in.

Plus, he has promised to bring you home. Since you stepped into the university this morning, you’ve been imagining going into his car, staring into space, and arriving right in front of your door without much hurdles. That’s what you want right now.

It’s then that Jungkook finally catches your eyes. He takes one glance at you and drops the basketball, the guy in front of him curses until he sees you; seemingly understanding the reason with your presence.

“You okay?” He asks right away, and when you tell him you want to go home, he curses and apologizes for forgetting to pick you up at your building. He wouldn’t be this courteous had you been in your usual mood, probably would ask you to wait until the game ended, but Jungkook knows when not to push it and today is certainly that day. “I’ll just get my stuff, okay?”

He only notices Mingyu after he says this, and when he asks his friend what he’s doing with you, it’s you who tells him to move faster because you’re tired.

“I’ve never seen Jungkook let go of a basketball so fast.” He remarks after the guy leaves, making you chuckle a little.

“He knows when I’m tired.” You offer. “And I’m not tired often, so…” Before Mingyu can say anything, you add, “Anyway, thanks again for offering. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” He says, surprisingly genuine and a little bit hopeful with what he says after. “If Jungkook is ever unavailable, feel free to text me and I’ll take you home instead if I could.”

You wonder if Mingyu does this to everyone he knows.

Chaeyoung and Chungha squeals the next day when you tell them about it, already betting that Mingyu is into you because there’s no way he’s not interested if he offers (insists?) to take you home like that.

You tell them he’s probably just being nice and it means nothing.

Your head (and heart) disagrees and you continue to think about it for weeks to come.

[✾✾✾]

Unfortunately, Jungkook is correct when he said you like Mingyu a little too much for it to just be another crush.

You’re not even sure how it comes to be, but the feeling now bothers you because you’d frown when you see yet another poor soul confessing to Mingyu even if they’re rejected; because you’d look at Lisa and wonder what it’s like to be her who can freely hog Mingyu to herself because they’re that comfortable with each other; because you’d find yourself staring at him a little too long that Chaeyoung needs to remind you not to be too obvious; because you’d be too conscious around him that you’re not you anymore everytime you hang out with the team now.

You hate it.

You hate being conscious around your friend and you’re trying to find a way to let go of your feelings.

“Confess to him?” Chaeyoung offers. “Or I suppose talking to Jungkook would be better. He’d know what to say because he’s close with the guy. Or do you want me to ask Lisa? I talk to her from time to time.”

“Confess, huh.” You ponder, the idea has never crossed your mind before. Things might get awkward between you and Mingyu after, but you’ll live because it’s not like you’re super close or anything. There’s no real loss, if you want to be completely honest.

Perhaps confessing would be the closure you need: have him reject you and move on. Sometimes a cold slap of reality is what you need, anyway.

“You think I should tell Kook first? Just in case it gets awkward between them?”

“Wait, you’re really considering it?” Chungha sits straight, not expecting you to actually take the idea. “What if he rejects you?”

“That’s the goal. Get rejected and move on.”

The two girls share a look, unsure what to say.

“But… you’ll be heartbroken…”

“At least it means I’ll finally get my closure. That’s the first step of moving on.” You’re a little too cool about the whole thing for their liking, but you’ve always been this kind of person and they don’t see why they should stop you if you think that’s what you need.

“You sure?”

You’re not, but you don’t think you have any other choice and the feeling is starting to get very irritating. So you make your way to the basketball court to find Jungkook after class.

Of course, it’s the object of your affection who sees you first, and you give him a tightlipped smile before asking for your friend.

Apparently, he’s in the changing room, and after sending a junior to call for Jungkook, Mingyu starts a small talk to keep you company. “He’s taking you home again today?”

“Ah, no. Got something to talk about real quick.” You say with an awkward smile. Like you say, you hate being conscious like this, you’re sure Mingyu can feel your awkwardness, and you hate that you might’ve made him uncomfortable too without meaning to.

Poor thing doesn’t even know why you’re being awkward.

“Sup.” Jungkook calls for you the moment he steps into the court, and you wave at Mingyu before leaving him by himself to go to Jungkook.

He watches you take your friend by the arm to a corner where no one’s around, and then he sees Jungkook shake his head before you two start whispering to each other. He’s pretty sure Jungkook’s eyes linger at him for quite a few seconds before he looks at you again, his palm squeezes your arm once before he says something that Mingyu obviously can’t make out from where he’s at.

He’s not sure why he’s paying this much attention, but he is and he wonders if something has happened to you because Jungkook looks concerned, a frown evident on his face. He bites his lip a little, and Mingyu looks away when Jungkook glances at him once more.

Are you two talking about him?

There isn’t really anything to talk about though… right?

Something nags on the back of his head, but Mingyu can’t quite tell what it is and he’s not sure what to make out of it anyway.

Why… does he care again?

“You’re leaving?” Mingyu asks when he sees you make your way to him. At your nod and your small smile, Mingyu finds himself asking before he can even stop himself. “Are you okay?”

You seem surprised, but the corner of your lips lift a little higher when you assure him that you’re fine. You hesitate before you say your next words, but Mingyu patiently waits anyway.

“Are you… playing today?”

“Me? No, I’m done for the day. Why?”

“Can I talk to you for a bit?”

Mingyu blinks in confusion, not seeing where this could be going at all. Does this have to do with whatever you were talking about with Jungkook earlier?

“Sure.” He shrugs. And when he looks around, his eyes meet Jungkook’s whose expression isn’t all that readable. “Here?”

You end up somewhere outside the building, where it’s quiet and no one’s present. If Mingyu isn’t too caught up in concern, he would notice that this scenario is way too familiar; one that he’s gone through one too many times. After all, how many times have people told him they needed to tell him something and brought him somewhere quiet to confess?

But it doesn’t even occur to him. Perhaps he simply doesn’t think you’re into him and there’s obviously no way this talk would go down that road.

“Are you really okay?” Mingyu asks again, even more concerned this time. It’s then that he realizes that this is the first time when it’s just the two of you. You’ve never talked with him privately before, don’t really have any reason to.

“Yeah. Just need to tell you something.”

You feel like you’re going to burst if you delay it even one more second, so you just blurt it in one go to get it over with.

“I like you.”

Obviously, it’s not something that Mingyu can simply get over with.

“I’m sorry?”

He looks extremely confused, most likely caught off guard. But you’re happy to know that you’re feeling lighter now that you’ve let it out there. You find yourself not really caring about what Mingyu has to say, which is selfish on your part, but you’re really just glad that you feel better almost instantly after you say it out loud.

“I’m not expecting anything, don’t worry.” It’s the first time Mingyu has received a confession where the other party doesn’t seem shy and expectant and he’s not sure what to make of your relieved smile. “It’s a little selfish of me, but I just think it’d be better to confess and leave it there.”

You’re way too busy being glad to notice Mingyu is frozen in place, not expecting the relief to be that instant. You would’ve confessed earlier if you knew, but what matters is you finally did and you can only hope Mingyu won’t feel awkward with Jungkook. You can just not come to the game for a bit if it’s uncomfortable for anyone, but Jungkook is in the team and you’d hate to make it weird for them.

“Anyway, no need to be awkward with Jungkook, alright? I already told him everything.” What did you say to him, exactly? Mingyu wants to ask, but he’s too dumbfounded to even say anything. And it’s when you tell him that’s all you had to say before turning to leave that he snaps out of it and takes your arm in reflex.

“Sorry–wait. No.” He stumbles over his words. The way you’re looking at him in question is adorable, and Mingyu suddenly wonders if you’ve always been this cute. Has he simply not realized because you’re always with Jungkook?

Anyhow, this doesn’t feel like a confession at all despite your honesty about your feelings. Who confesses and leaves before hearing an answer?

You, apparently.

But, then again, what is he doing stopping you from leaving? It’s not like he reciprocates your feelings or anything. But it feels weird to be on the receiving end of a confession like this. Shouldn’t he thank you for not making him reject you?

“Wait. You… like me?”

“Is it weird?” You frown, almost offended. You look at his fingers on your wrist, and Mingyu squeezes it once before letting go.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant.” He waves in denial. “Just… uh… didn’t expect it, I guess.”

You laugh with a shake of your head, and this is truly the first confession Mingyu has ever received in which the other person isn’t nervous and isn’t asking for a chance. You’re not even showing any sign of being shy.

If anything, you look even more relaxed than before.

“Well, like I said I’m not expecting anything from you.” Mingyu wonders if you’ve ever smiled this big around him before. He’s pretty sure you haven’t, because he would remember a smile this beautiful otherwise. “So, no need to say anything back and, again, don’t be awkward with Jungkook, okay? If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can just not go to the games for a while.”

Are you seriously thinking about him being awkward with Jungkook when it’s you confessing to him right now?

“You don’t need to… uh… not go.” Mingyu stutters out of nowhere, and he curses himself for being awkward when you don’t even seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. “We don’t need to be awkward, right?”

You shrug, your face void of any awkwardness. “If you say so. I’ll be on my way now. Thank you for not being weird about this, by the way.”

And as you leave him with a much better mood he found you in earlier, Mingyu wonders why he feels like he’s the one being rejected when it’s you confessing to him.

[✾✾✾]

You have expected Mingyu to be a little weird and awkward around you after the confession.

But you didn’t expect him to be around you.

It seems like, after the whole thing, he’s adamant to be close to you everytime he could. He’d sit beside you when you join team dinner, he’d accompany you when you’re waiting for Jungkook, and he’d even reply to your Instagram stories from time to time.

You don’t think too much about it, though it does annoy you a little because it’s making moving on harder. At least you’re no longer conscious around him and the others, which was the most annoying thing before and what drove you to confess in the first place.

Chaeyoung and Chungha (even Jungkook) ask you about it from time to time, but you’re consistent in your answer: that there’s nothing going on between you two and you simply confessed for the sake of confessing.

It’s been about a month since you confessed and Mingyu is immensely confused.

For someone who claims to like him, you’re not showing any sign that you’re into him at all. If anything, you seem uninterested; like he’s just a friend of a friend (which he kinda is). At some point, Mingyu even wonders if you’re simply messing with him.

He also wonders if that’s the reason why he starts paying attention to you instead. He becomes conscious of your presence, and he dares to say he’s enjoying it.

He finds himself smiling when you do, and he finds himself leaning to where you’re at every chance he gets.

And now, he finds himself thinking why you confessed the way you did. Why didn’t you ask for a chance? Mingyu is straightforward when it comes to turning down confessions, but he suddenly wonders if he’d try it out with you had you not simply gone on your way that day.

If there’s one thing Mingyu is bad at, it’s containing his curiosity. That, along with the fact that you seem pretty chill, pushes him to where he’s at right now: with you in the bubble tea place in front of university.

Jungkook and Minghao are whining for some, and when you volunteer to get it for them, it leads to a couple of other members of the team to ask the same too. Before Jungkook sighs and offers to go with you, Mingyu volunteers first because he wants to.

There. He admits it. He wants to spend some time with you.

As you two wait for your orders, you both sit at one of the tables and that’s when Mingyu decides to ask.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“When you… uh… confessed to me.” You don’t seem appalled to be talking about it, which encourages Mingyu to continue. “Why… Did you say you’re not expecting me to answer?”

“Uh, because I know you’re not into me? I know you’re going to reject me anyway.”

Mingyu frowns, his fingers that are drumming against the table stop at your words. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, am I wrong?” You chuckle, and he doesn’t know what to make of your nonchalance. But he knows that it bothers him that you automatically think he’d reject you. Is that the kind of image you have of him? (It’s not entirely untrue, he is clear when it comes to rejection.) Or do you simply think he wouldn’t be into you?

“What if I say you are?” Mingyu decides to go for it. What he feels for you is not strong enough to be called ‘love’, maybe not even ‘like’ just yet, but he’s definitely into you and the thought of spending time with you has been clouding his thoughts over and over again like a heavy rain these days.

He can definitely see–no–feel himself falling for you deeper as time passes by. He just needs more time to get there, preferably with you.

“What are you saying?” You shake your head, trying to hide the fact that you’re flustered like your heart isn’t beating way too fast that it almost hurts. What is he saying, really?

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

Mingyu blinks, sure that he’s heard wrong. “No?”

But you’re clear when you repeat your answer.

“What do you mean no?” He asks, genuinely confused. “Didn’t you just say you liked me, like, a month ago?”

“I told you I simply confessed for the sake of it.” You remind him, though your calm tone relaxes him in ways he can’t really explain. Perhaps he’s just glad you’re not making a big deal out of it. “I’ve never had any thoughts of dating you.”

“Why?”

“You’re you.” You say like it’s obvious, but Mingyu is once again offended for you and he frowns before he asks.

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re Kim Mingyu, the basketball star with the perfect GPA.” You start to list all of his titles and his accomplishments in university, and it’s the first time that Mingyu doesn’t feel good at someone complimenting him. For once, he’s not all that proud of those things you’ve just listed down. “And I’m… me. People probably only know me as Jungkook’s close friend. Chaeyoung and Chungha’s plain friend. And I don’t mind being known as such, but it should explain why I don’t think I have any chance with you.”

Mingyu frowns, and he stares at you a little too hard that you can’t tell at all what he’s trying to express.

“I don’t like how you imply you’re not exceptional.”

“Because I am not.” You shrug, not getting why Mingyu sounds upset. “And it’s okay. Nothing bad about being ordinary. I like being ordinary. I can’t imagine getting all that attention you get everywhere you go.”

Mingyu kind of gets what you’re saying, but he still doesn’t like that you consider yourself ordinary. Nothing, not one single thing, that you’ve done to him has been ordinary. Not the way you confessed, not the way you act after you confessed, not the words you’re telling him right now.

And, now that he’s been paying more attention to you, nothing you do is sort of ordinary. You’re straightforward when you need to be, and you know exactly what you want and how to say them without sounding demanding. You’re not soft spoken and he means it in the best way possible, you’re good at reading the room and you know when to play dumb if that’s what the situation calls for. You know when to prioritize yourself and when you should prioritize your friends without being too selfless nor selfish.

If someone like you is what you consider ordinary, he doesn’t know what kind of person you’d consider special.

To Mingyu, you’re already as special as someone can possibly be.

How can you be ordinary if you confessed and then said ‘no’ when the said person asked you out on a date?

Wait. Did you think he was kidding?

“Anyway, I wasn’t kidding when I asked if you want to go on a date with me.”

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said no.” You chuckle a little, making Mingyu all the more confused.

“Why?”

“I told you. You’re Mingyu.” When he demands more explanation with the look in his eyes, you finally give in to honesty. “You’re too handsome. Too perfect, in fact. It’s burdensome to be with you. I don’t feel worthy enough.” You scrunch your face, and Mingyu needs to contain himself before he reaches out to squish your face.

Funnily enough, Mingyu doesn’t feel offended when you say this, just entirely dumbfounded that the things that are supposedly good are the reason why you don’t want to go on a date with him. Plus, what do you mean you’re not worthy enough?

“I’m nothing like that. No one is perfect”

You roll your eyes and wave a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re still too handsome. If you’re, like, only a little handsome, I would’ve said yes.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, not getting what you’re saying at all and finding the whole thing funny at this point. But if there’s one thing you should’ve known about him, it’s that he’s stubborn and he’s competitive.

He’s not the basketball captain for no reason.

“You know you’re not making any sense?” He asks after his laughter dies down. But then something hits his mind and he gets serious. “Do you not like me anymore?”

“I still do.” You reassure, much too chill like the feeling doesn’t bother you. Should Mingyu be grateful? “But I told you you’re too handsome and a little burdensome to date. That’s why I confessed, did I not tell you? I just wanted you to reject me and move on from then.”

Mingyu blinks once. And then twice. Mouth a little ajar as his head tries to proceed your words

Not one single word from your mouth makes sense. Did you just say you confessed to him because you want to get rejected? Anyhow, now he knows you still like him and that leaves him one thing to do: convince you to go on a date with him.

“There’s no way I’m letting you move on.” He grins, now sure about his plan moving forward. You look at him confused, though he can tell that you’re a little flustered and he can’t help but think he wants to see more of that. “You’re going on a date with me, alright?”

You huff a chuckle, incredulous, and one corner of your lip lifts in genuine amusement. “I guess if you’re able to convince me somehow.”

“Deal.” Mingyu grins and you feel giddiness fill you inside out like never before as he stares at you with determination. “Remember that you allowed me to try. You don’t get to complain later on that I won’t stop following you every chance I get.”

[✾✾✾]

A/N: so here goes the latest shiny star!! this is both "Mingyu's birthday is closeby" and "I got a sudden strike of inspiration" lol. i finished writing this in like,, 2, 3 days? anyhow, i hope you like this as much as i do. pls do tell me what you think of it <;3 again, i didn't think shiny star would get to this point when i wrote wonwoo's lol but i'm thankful a lot of you seems to like it hehe

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