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star-sim · 4 months

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"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen hyung line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, jealous and whipped boys... kinda dumb lol ☆ warning(s)? no! just fluff!! and attempts at humor :( ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated :D also not proofread lol

maknae ver.

heeseung ☆

i like to think that hee would be a gaming youtuber

posts maybe like once or twice a week, has about 3 million subs

he sometimes likes to stream, just to get to know his fanbase better and to just hang out

normally he texts you to let you know abt it, but today he totally forgot

you came home from work and you saw his office door closed + heard the sound of his loud ass keyboard clicking.... my guy beats that shit UP atp

that was normal tbh

you were probably like "my little keyboard warrior ❤️" and went to go wash up in your shared bathroom and bedroom

you were going to just pop into his office, say hi and maybe give him a kiss

meanwhile... heeseung is taking a break from gaming, just talking to the chat

he definitely didn't notice you coming home... probably bc of that bigass head set that's creating a fucking valley in his skull... (btw have u seen those videos where gamers take off their headphones and they have a dent on their head 😭)

anyways you open the door, ready to say hi, but heeseung is visibly surprised, looking like a deer in headlights

you look at him, then at the back of his monitor, then back at him, then at his monitor

"should i come back another time...?"

hee's already taking off his headphones, leaning back into his gaming chair--

"no no no!" he grins, glancing at the chat, which is now blowing up

"who is that?"

"yooooo"

"HEESEUNG IS THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?"

"gf reveal?"

"she sounds so pretty"

heeseung pats his lap, "cmere, baby, i wanna introduce you to the stream"

of course you comply <3

you take a seat on his lap, his arms slithering around your waist

it takes you a moment to take in what's on his screen: obv there's your reflections, then the chat boxes and announcement pop-ups

the way that the blue-purple light of his screen reflects onto your skin, casting a glassy gleam over your eyes-- and the way that your pretty eyes look at the monitor so curiously, lips parted ever-so-slightly-- made you look SO beautiful

heeseung himself has to angle his head in a way so that he could see your face properly.... and a soft grin unknowingly began to spread over his lips

he presses a soft kiss to the crook behind your ear, before looking back up at the stream

"hey guys," there's a clear smile in his voice, "this is my girlfriend, [name]."

you take that as your queue to introduce yourself

honestly, you're a little shy and softer-spoken now, bc you're not in front of a camera nearly as often as your boyfriend is, "hi.. i'm [name], and... uhm..." you give the webcam a clumsy, awkward (but very cute) smile, "i'm hee's girlfriend"

the chat blows up immediately

"SHE'S SO CUTE"

"i've never seen heeseung look so soft"

"[name] you're so pretty :)"

"this might actually be one of the most beautiful women i've ever seen im not joking guys"

"chat is she real... bc why is she actually GLOWING oh my lord🧎🧎🧎"

those comments make you a lil shy and bashful, and you feel your cheeks kinda warm

you just giggle reading them, unable to contain your smile

heeseung, on the other hand, is feeling prideful

"that's right, guys," he squeezes your waist, puffing his chest out, "my girlfriend is so beautiful" "i know i'm so lucky to have such a wonderful woman as my girlfriend"

he's overjoyed by all the compliments you're getting... it makes him so happy that he can show you off and that everyone gets to see that YOURE his gf

in fact, he's reading a lot of them aloud, and following it up with "i agree with you"

like he'll read "'[name] is absolutely stunning, like wow..." and heeseung nods and is like "i agree with you, xXdragontittysucker23Xx 🤓☝️"

but then a comment stops him in his tracks...

"heeseung is your girlfriend single by any chance?"

his face drops immediately

"hey... who in the chat asked if [name] is single?!"

he's actually offended, putting a dramatic hand on his chest and scoffing

"how rude!" heeseung pouts against your shoulder when even more of his viewers begin saying similar things

"[name] are you free this weekend"

"hi [name] (i'm 6'2 and drive a lamborghini and save orphans every weekend)"

"heeseung get out i'm trying to have a moment with your girlfriend"

you're actually such a cutie, becuase you're just giggling as more and more comments come trying to rizz you up

"what do you have to say for yourself?" heeseung asks you half-sulkily and half-defensive, pushing his face into your neck and pouting

your eyes glimmer with a little mischief, wanting to tease your boyfriend a little bit

"i mean... " you pretend to think

and then someone named jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 says in chat "please [name] i'll rock your world so hard just one chance"

you laugh

"jungkooksleftpinkytoe562, i'm free tomorrow at 5, you should take me out on a date" and you wink playfully and laugh again

chat blows up like

"WOAHHHH"

"AYOOO????"

but if there's anyone that's scandalized, it's heeseung lee himself

"HEY! HEY! WHAT?!!?!" he's squinting and scrolling so fast in the chat to find jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 that you can hear the scroll-wheel oh my god

"you guys better back off," heeseung says, pulling you even closer. he presses a kiss against your shoulder, then gently clutching your face to kiss your chin, "she's mine!"

heeseung's eyes narrow, "especially you, jungkooksleftpinkytoe562..." your bf gives you a quick peck on the lips, "i'll kick your ass if i see you flirting w my girlfriend again >:("

im gonna be fr... none of his viewers care

in fact they keep flirting with you

and the fact that you keep playfully flirting back adds fuel to heeseung's flames

but he'd never blame you <3

he's pouty after the stream lol (but he knows it's all in good fun) so kiss his cute lil pouty lips

i think this definitely goes viral on twitter

like #[name] or #heesgf trends for a good 48 hours

jay ☆

my guy is a cooking channel

i think jay would try to be more private abt his personal life to his viewers, just given the nature of his content

though, it's no secret that jay has a s/o to his viewers, and i think they'd know your name

but yk how at the end of cooking videos, after the chef cooks, they try the food...

i think in a few of his videos, there's clips of you and him trying his food, but while jay is usually in-frame, you're either behind the camera or just barely in the frame so that most people have really only heard your voice and seen your hands

the comments are usually tame, like

"[name]'s voice is so pretty!"

"i want someone to look at me the way jay looks at [name]"

"my parents!"

but one day

for one of his subscriber milestone specials

let's say 2million subscriber special

jay does a cooking challenge

it's "cooking a meal but BLINDFOLDED"

he starts the video explaining the parameters of the challenge and what he's doing, etc

but then he reveals that you're behind the camera to supervise him

obv bc he's in a kitchen with ovens and knives and he's blindfolded...

throughout the video, you kind of just guide your bf

"omg jay move your hand or you'll cut your fingers off!"

"turn on the stove-- no the other way!!"

at some point, jay is cutting up onions

and normally he's a pro at it, and you never question his abilities

but because he can't see and he's using the knife so quickly, you're freaked out like "babe!!!!!! that doesn't seem safe!!! 😰😰😰"

so then behind the camera, you're heard fussing about it and it's cute lol

then you take it upon yourself to help him

you go behind him, slithering your arms around him so that your hands were places on his

you guide his hands to cut the onions slowly

"babe, i got this," jay says, but tbh he's not complaining because he gets to be close to you :D

"nonono i don't want you to die!!" you say, and it seems like you're more concentrated on cutting the onions than him

this is the first time that your face is in-frame for one of his videos lol

when you're done, jay tries to kiss your head, but he can't find you so you raise yourself on your tippy toes for him

its a quick peck but you giggle and place a kiss behind his ear

when he's done cooking his little dish, it's time to garnish and decorate it with sauce

jay's plan is to use the sauce to write "happy 2 million subscribers" on the dish

but because he's blindfolded, the writing is so fucked up

it's completely unintelligable and just a glob of sauce 😭

and then he tries to draw a dick on it but it's also super fucked 😭😭😭😭

when you see this, you burst out laughing so hard

and this makes jay laugh too

anyways the video goes up, it's very cute and well-received

now.... the youtube comments are still tame

"[name]'s laugh is so cute!"

"i screamed when she popped into frame... she's gorg"

"the way that [name] looks at jay when he's blindfolded is everything"

"[name] looks so beautiful"

but uh

it gets crazy on twitter

as it always does

"jesus fucking christ if a woman like that wrapped her arms around me and kissed me i would fall to my knees and die happily"

"jay CANNOT handle allat.... but i can!!!! me next!!"

"god... when is it my turn to have a pretty woman kiss me"

"[name] i'll treat you so well PLEASE"

i think the clip of you helping jay cut the onions kinda goes viral, just because you look so attractive doing it

like the way you popped into frame as you rolled up your sleeves and the way you smirked at jay's inability to see... ZOOWEE MAMA!!!!!

and i think this eventually makes its way onto tiktok

like pretty standard videos of ppl being like "JAY'S GIRLFRIEND HELLO???" with comments like "she's so beautiful," etc

jay honestly thinks its funny

he knows that people are joking and he sometimes actually plays along with them

he loves that people are appreciating your beauty (but he loves even more that he's the only one that actually gets you)

when you first go viral, you're kinda shy about it, but jay just pulls you close, kisses your cheek, squishing them, and says "my baby is so beautiful"

youre like "jayyyyyy stoopppp"

he only chuckles and starts to pepper your face with more kisses, despite your lil whines for him to stop

but then while you two are cuddling one night, you laying on his chest with your face in his neck

a tiktok appears on his fyp

its just some teenager being like "hi does anyone know if jay's girlfriend is single?" while showing off a black BMW in the background... and then jay's directly tagged in it

he takes this as his opportunity to strike back

he stitches that tiktok, and makes his own tiktok in response

it's just a really short video where jay shows you all snuggled up against him completely silent before he just says "No, she is not single. 😐."

the caption's like "i'm taking [name] out on a date tomorrow shhh don't tell her"

everyone thinks it's really sweet tbh

jake ☆

truthfully i think jake would be into youtube commentary

something like danny gonzalez or jarvis johnson

he looks at troom troom videos and makes fun of them lowk 😭

speaking of, troom troom or troom troom - adjacent content usually has crazy ass lifehacks

so for one of his videos jake is testing out troom troom life hacks

and for one of them, he has to drill a hole in a skateboard or something and put pasta noodles in it idk i'm pulling this out of my ass but its not surprising if this is a legitimate troom troom life hack

unlike heeseung and jay, jake's viewerbase doesn't rlly know about you

again, given the nature of his content, jake never rlly found it necessary to mention his personal relationships

anyways jake is in the middle of your living room floor drilling a hole into a skateboard and putting spaghettie in it when you come home from work and see that shit

jake is in the middle of talking to the camera but the moment the door cracks open he trails off

he gives you that smile-- the one that a puppy gives when their owner catches them doing something they shouldnt aw

when you take in the sight before you, you let out a laugh, not noticing the camera rolling

you place your things down and slink toward your boyfriend

"what's going on here, jakey?" you ask him with a cocked brow, loving the way he chuckles nervously

you crouch down beside him, poking the skateboard-spaghetti abomination with your foot

"i'm testing out troom troom life hacks" he sounds defeated lol

anyways you give him a kiss on his cheek and leave him to his own devices

in the final video, your little interruption is only like 15 seconds bc jake cut it down-- but he def keeps the part where you kiss him

HOWEVER.

because jake's audience didn't know he had a girlfriend

they were all like WOAH WHO IS THAT GORGEOUS WOMAN

a few of his fans look at who he's following on instagram, and they find your account

your ig is public, but it's definitely small and personal

they find pictures of you and jake doing cute couple things, a lot of mirror selfies, matching costumes, and cute pictures that you take of jake

but...

they also find your own personal pictures

ones of you in a bikini at the beach, ones of you with the golden sun on your face, ones showing off your outfit and hair, ones of you in the morning, ones of you being a baddie

and lets not mention jake in the ig comment sections hyping you up like a teenage boy like "YOURE SO HOT [NAME] 🔥🔥🔥🔥"

jake and you see all the comments and tweets about you

so jake decides to take it upon himself to clarify everything

he posts a picture on instagram of you and him with the caption "yes, that's my girlfriend"

safe to say that it becomes his top post LMAOAAO

his ig comments are flooded with support

"you guys are so cute"

"i'm glad to see jake have someone that he loves"

etc

YOUR ig comment section on the other hand?

flooded with support

and thirst

HELP

his fans are respectful but they REALLY love to compliment you

"woahhh you look so good in this one!"

"gorgeous 😍"

"[name] will you marry me?"

but i do think a few are outright insane omg

"[name] you're my sunshine in the ran, the tylenol when i'm in pain, when it's burning hot on summer days you're exactly what i need"

i think they pull out poetic shit omg

like shit like

"the memory of you is a tapestry I had decided to wrap myself in until it suffocated me, to such extent that in the morning, people will not find my body, but a new silhouette woven within its threads"

"there is a city in my heart where you are its only population"

"if i could remake universe, i would replace you as the moon amongst the stars after your time, so i may gaze upon you every night"

jake is NEVER escaping

you appreciate the hype

but jakey?

he loves that you're being appreciate but YOU'RE HIS

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHY DO THEY THINK THEY HAVE A CHANCE W U

"jakey they're just being nice"

"no they're trying to STEAL YOU"

like a day later he posts a picture of you on his instagram with the caption "she's mine btw"

his comments DO NOT CARE 😭😭😭

when someone comments

"jake is your gf single and can i take her out on a date"

jake straight up responds

"NO."

what a cutie

sunghoon ☆

i actually don't think sunghoon would be a YOUTUBER youtuber

instead i think he'd be a famous ice skater, but he has YOUTUBE interviews and is active on social media

definitely the type of athlete that's very personable

like sunghoon is def in touch with his fanbase and interacts with them on twt and stuff

his fanbase knows that he has a gf, but that's basically the limit

anyways sunghoon is doing one of those "WIRED answered the web's most searched questions"

you're actually in the studio with him during the interview, kinda there for support

the questions are tame like

"sunghoon park height" "sunghoon park winter olympics 2018" "where was sunghoon park born" etc

sunghoon's killing it

until one of the last questions on the board is "does sunghoon park have a girlfriend?"

he immediately lights up

"i do have a girlfriend!" he says, looking off-set at you, "her name's [name] and she's the most beautiful woman i've ever met"

you chuckle quietly at his comment, flashing him a pretty smile

sunghoon continues- "she's actually here with me today" and he points to you, making the cameraman pan over to you, who is sitting off the set

you just give the camera a thumbs up

you thought that would be the end, but sunghoon asks, "baby, do you want to do this interview with me?"

ofc you agree

he makes u sit on his lap lol even when the camera crew is bringing another chair for you

instead of answer more questions sunghoon just talks about your relationship the entire time

he's giving an entire history lecture about your relationship

you don't say much, but you listen to him intently

when this interview goes up

a lot of his fans make edits of it

sunghoon is already known as a quiet typa guy, but when he talks for like 2 minutes straight about your relationship everyones like "oh god this guy really likes his girlfriend 😭"

in fact

the official interview cuts down sunghoon's tangent about you to 2 minutes, when the original clip was actually 10 minutes

i like to believe that WIRED released an uncut version of his tangent 😭

his fans make short edit videos like "sunghoon being whipped for [name]" or "sunghoon really likes his gf"

i think his fans also make edits of YOU

even though you're honestly in a very short clip of his interview

the way you look at him and listen so intently is SO GOOD

like you were definitely giving him 'the look' as he talked abt your relationship yk?

that once-over, maybe a little lip bite, MMMMM SO GOOD

now....

ik i said that heeseung was the keyboard warrior but like... i think sunghoon is the real one

he's out here fighting BATTLES with his keyboard oml

when stan twitter sees this.... sunghoon starts to fight them

there's tweets like

"the more i listen to sunghoon talk about his gf i more i feel like i'm falling for her"

"the woman that you are, [name]..."

"when she looks at the camera i feel shy"

"omg SHE WANTS ME"

sunghoon gets petty OH MY GOD

he responds to all the tweets about you

"she does not want you 😐." "you have no chance with her. 😐." "too bad she's mine 😇"

it's def in a playful joking way and it's really funny, but sunghoon is out here defending your honor

i think at some point sunghoon stops responding with words and just begins responding with pictures

someone tweets "sunghoon is your gf single"

and he straight up just responds with a picture of him staring blankly at the camera

LIKE HE'S DRILLING HOLES THROUGH THE CAMERA WITH HIS EYES

an absolute cutie if i do say so myself

on valentines day he posts a picture of him holding your hand to be extra petty lol

maknae ver.

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xbellaxcarolinax · 8 months

Text

Hungry

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel has a lactation kink.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Smut, lactation kink, p in v, umm I think that's it. 18+ MDNI.

Disclaimer: never been pregnant, don't know how it works entirely. Just enjoy lol Not beta-read. Also, Miguel being a father warms my heart <3

...

It'd never crossed his mind before. After all, your milk was for the baby.

Diego nursed from you well, his tiny lips latching onto your swollen nipple with little guidance. You held him close and kissed his brow while you sang to him softly. Now and then you'd hiss, your pretty face pinched from the inevitable pain of breastfeeding.

Miguel watched you both with a full heart—watched how you cradled his milk-drunk son against your swollen breasts lovingly before putting him down for a nap.

And when he couldn't rip his eyes away from the swell of your chest (or how your nipples continued to drip tiny pearls), he thought nothing of it.

...

"Does it hurt?" He asked in the quietness of your bedroom, his toned arm thrown around your shoulders, holding you close.

Diego began to fidget where he was nestled comfortably on his father's bare chest, his wrinkled face blooming red before a cry ripped from his tiny body.

"Does what hurt?" You asked in return, gently cooing down at the wailing infant, scooping him gingerly in your arms.

Miguel motioned toward your engorged breasts, his eyes lingering over the damp spots forming over your fitted t-shirt, your nipples leaking through the white cotton fabric.

"Sometimes," you sighed as soon as Diego latched on, "when he doesn't drink enough or bites too hard."

Miguel studied his son as he drank his fill; until his little eyes fluttered with sleep and his milk-covered lips fell away from your chest.

A bead of milk formed over your swollen nipple and before it ran down the roundness of your breast, Miguel caught it with the pad of his finger, swiping it up gently and placing it in his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, looking down at your flushed face and doe eyes.

"What's it taste like?" You whispered curiously, watching Miguel lap at his finger like a cat.

He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor on his tongue before he grunted.

"Sweet."

...

“Lemme help you,” he muttered to you one night, watching you wince and groan while you palmed your full breasts. Diego had drank himself to sleep, leaving your tits full still, straining for release. “You’re in pain.”

You worried your lip, leaning your head back against the headboard. “The breast pump is in the—”

“No,” he said, “not like that.” He carefully positioned himself between your legs, gently lifting your shirt to reveal your swollen tits, nipples hardening immediately.

“Miguel—”

“Shh, amor.”

He took a breast in hand, squeezing softly and watching the tiny stream of white pour from your nipple before wrapping his lips around the bud and giving a gentle suck. The sweetness of your milk invaded his senses as he drank from you, his eyes fluttering.

You moaned above him, your fingers threading messily in his hair.

He palmed your other breast, squeezing enough to let your milk pour over his hands and down his wrist, making a mess of you. His cock was straining against his briefs as he rutted into the mattress for some fiction.

“M-Miguel,” you sighed, ignoring the dampness that pooled over your skin and under you.

“Feels good?” He murmured over your damp skin, his lips covered in milk. He tugged gently on your nipple, giving it a few kitten licks before turning his attention to your other breast, quickly suckling down more of your milk.

You didn’t answer him—couldn’t—but he knew the answer.

You’d fallen asleep shortly after Miguel had cleaned you up, cradling you in his arms.

But he was far from satiated.

...

When he could finally put his cock in you, he made sure your pussy was nice and wet for him.

He’d suck on your tits till you were leaking from both your nipples and between your legs before stuffing you good, your milk pouring over his lips and down his chin. Whatever escaped his mouth would be slurped off your smooth skin, his tongue dragging between your breasts as you covered his cock in your juices.

But you preferred to ride him recently. Miguel didn't mind. He wanted you to take your pleasure from him in the most comfortable way possible for you. He knew he was big, knew his cock was a challenge for you, even more so post-pregnancy, but you knew how to manage him.

Whenever you rode him it was in the kitchen. He’d sit on a chair with your body draped over his and you’d bounce on his cock at your leisure. A baby monitor would be placed on the table, always knocked over in your mission of conquering Miguel's lap.

Tonight was no different. Miguel wanted you.

Your cunt swallowed him perfectly, his cock cushioned within your swollen, warm walls.

Your breasts, bare from any restraints, bounced in his face with every swirl of your hips. They were enticing, your puffy nipples beading with the sweet milk he loved.

Miguel grunted, grabbing them in his large hands and gently squeezing. Milk began to pour over his hands in thin white streams, seeping through his knuckles and down the expanse of your body. His mouth immediately sucked your nipples in quick succession, and you moaned as the soreness mixed with the pleasure of his cock ramming into you deep.

When you came it was with a loud cry. Miguel immediately latched off your tit, kissing you to silence your cries as you covered him completely in your juices. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue as he kissed you with fervor, effectively silencing you.

He gave one final thrust into your tight heat before his hips stilled, groaning in your mouth as he came. By the end of it, you were both covered in spit, milk, and cum, panting against each other.

Moments later, Diego demanded attention, his cries crackling through the baby monitor. You gently hissed as you pulled off Miguel's large cock, his spend and yours sliding down your thighs and dripping over his lap.

“Your son is always hungry,” Miguel complained, his hands moving up to thumb at your sore nipples. You scoffed, snatching your robe off the table where Miguel had carelessly tossed it aside, placing it over your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you grinned, swiping a bead of your milk off Miguel’s lower lips, “just like his father."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv #spiderman 2099

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hier--soir · 8 months

Text

a lover's pinch | one

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. warnings/tags: au, age gap [20 something years diff], alcohol consumption, irrational sexual tension, smut, sex in a public place w/ a stranger [and i'm talking depraved/zero time wasted/known you for thirty minutes type strangers], oral [f receiving], protected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, a spot of degradation + misogynistic language, a split second of soft!joel, you get the picture word count: 5.9k series masterlist | main masterlist a/n: my friends.... oh boy, oh boy. this series is a complete au, self-indulgent, fantasy land idea that has plagued me for weeks. horny academic brain rot to the highest degree. hope some of you enjoy it with me x

Friday.

You sit with three almost strangers.

Listen to them talk about their summers and their families and their degrees as you twirl a straw around your half-empty glass, disrupting the melting ice as you try to wrap your head around what a master’s in environmental engineering might entail. One of them, the only man at the table, takes great pleasure in explaining it to you all for the second time. You take mental notes and hope he’s not expecting you to remember words like sparging and leachate.

They do ask you about your undergrad, and your internship, nodding and smiling curiously. They don’t ask what type of job you plan on getting after your postgrad, which is a welcome relief. The bombardment of questions from immediate and extended family is enough.

Cousins wondering aloud, saying you study Greek mythology, right?

Or your grandfather, before he died, berating you ad nauseam at family events about what’re you gonna do, kid? Be a historian? There’s no money in being a historian. Now, being a lawyer, that’s where the money is.

And you’d respond no, not quite Greek mythology, and no, I don’t plan on being a historian, as you gorge yourself on red wine and triscuits and wait for Christmas to end.

Thankfully you aren’t expected to rehash these scenarios with your almost strangers, who routinely ask a few well-mannered questions and then go back to talking about themselves.

After a week of living with them, in a new house, and a new city, you’re becoming used to their company. The way the four of you commune lazily in the kitchen most mornings, swathed in the light streaming through a window above the sink, making idle small talk as you wait for coffee to brew. How Pete and Trin study opposite each other at the dining table, while Nora prefers to spread her limbs across the couch, laptop balanced precariously on her stomach. She’s doing her master’s in education, which she describes as an expensive way to get a pay rise. She’s kind, with wild curly hair and dark humour, and is easily your favourite of your new roommates.

It was her idea to go out that night. One last hurrah, she’d called it. Before we enter the final circle of academic hell next week. And between four overworked, already burnt-out, twenty-something students, it hadn’t taken much convincing before you were sharing three bottles of wine and hightailing it to the bar with the highest Yelp rating.

The late August air is dry; a faint warmth that follows you into a quaint bar in downtown Biddeford. The space is small and crowded with patrons, with dim overhead lighting that casts a soft glow across the booth you’re crammed into. A thin sheen of sweat coats your skin, and your shirt sticks to your back uncomfortably. The others seem unbothered by the heat, nursing sweaty glasses and discussing how different Maine is from where they all grew up. You involve yourself here and there, offering up stories about your family and friends from back home, and suddenly an hour has passed, and then another, and you’re pleasantly tipsy, body humming as alcohol spreads its way through your veins, and your latest drink is practically empty, spare a few melting ice cubes.

“I need another drink,” you tell Nora, who nods absently before turning her attention back to the others.

You wander toward the bar, fumbling for your phone as you go. Fall in between two leather cushioned stools and rest your elbows atop the sleek wooden counter. Check your bank account and mentally traverse the list of reasons for returning to student-life when you see the number staring back at you. I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, your internal monologue runs, although you could admit how sweet a solicitor’s pay check would feel right now.

It’s a low, Southern drawl that pulls you from your reverie.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Deep. With a rough, lilting quality that piques your interest and has your eyes drifting upward from your phone screen.

You notice his body first; a tall frame with thick arms, thick shoulders, thick neck. A navy-blue t-shirt that stretches thin around his biceps, hugging the tan skin there. And then you look higher, and—oh.

Your heart stutters a beat out of time as you take in his face. Loose brown curls that are just long enough to hang across his forehead. Dark, almond-shaped brown eyes. So dark they almost appear black on the first glance. The strong nose and dark hair across his jaw, dappled with streaks of grey. A moustache resting atop a set of dark pink lips. Gone are thoughts of academia, of bank accounts, of your almost strangers. All replaced in an instant by wanton, pulsating desire.

Something like surprise cuts across his face, but it disappears just as quickly. In a far recess of your brain, you register that he must be at least twenty years older than you. You wilfully ignore the thought, perfectly content to continue admiring him.

A dark eyebrow ticks upward then, and you realise you haven’t responded.

“No,” you rush, flashing him a quick smile. “All yours.”

He gives you a pleased nod, a hint of a smirk passing over his lips as he sits down. He looks vaguely uncomfortable perched on the tall chair, all six-foot-something of him cramped onto such a small cushion. You cast a single glance back towards the booth, and then slip onto the stool beside him.

Silence descends between you for a moment. A song by The Eagles plays faintly, but you can’t figure which one - too distracted to make out the lyrics. You take a careful sip of the melted ice at the bottom of your glass, taste the last remnants of tequila in it, and watch him out of the corner of your eye.

“’m Joel,” that accent rings again, sending a volt of warmth through your chest.

You tell him your name, fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. If he notices the tension in your posture, he doesn’t let on. “You a Southern man, Joel?” The name feels warm on your tongue. Soft and silken like honey.

“S’it that obvious?” he grins crookedly, pink lips tearing back to reveal a straight white smile.

“An accent like that is hard to ignore,” you smirk. “It’s not a bad thing.”

‘Thought it would fade a little since I moved here,” he explains. “Y'can take the man outta Texas, but… you know.”

You hum, eyes alight as you watch him speak. His mouth is beautiful, lips parting around prolonged vowels.

“You here alone?” he asks.

“No,” you say. “With friends.”

“Let me guess,” Joel tilts his body, glancing around the bar. His shirt shifts with the movement, hem raising to reveal the slightest hint of a soft, tanned stomach. He points somewhere over your shoulder. You shut your mouth, careful not to gawp. “Them.”

You turn, a soft laugh of surprise bubbling up through your chest when you spy the bachelorette party set up across the bar. Women dressed in gaudy shades of pink. One of them with a sash—reading Jenny’s Big Day—across her chest, a short veil pinned to her head, and an empty champagne glass clutched in her fist. One of them teary-eyed, gripping the bride’s arm and yelling something in her ear, sloshing champagne onto herself all the while.

“You got me,” you turn back to him with a grin. Hold your hands up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t be caught dead missing Jennifer’s last night as a free woman.”

The corners of his eyes crease, entire face blossoming into a smile now. He has a dimple on his right cheek.

“Knew you were a good girl,” he nods. Says the words in a matter-of-fact tone. Something twists in your stomach, and your palms dampen. You wet your lips quickly and don’t back down from his gaze, allowing the corner of your mouth to kick up a little.

“And you?”

His eyebrows raise in a silent question.

“Who’re you here with?” you clarify.

“Just you, darlin’,” he says, left eye dropping in a quick wink.

It's easy with him, you find, and the two of you sit there for a while; exchanging small talk about Maine, the hot weather, the music at the bar, slipping in flirtatious comments that are about as subtle as a neon sign, until he finally spies the empty glass in your hand.

“What are you drinkin’?” he asks.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you say, hoping it doesn’t come across too eager. He seems pleased though. There’s something provocative to his gaze, a teasing warmth that raises the temperature of your skin wherever he looks. But whatever it is, it’s gone by the time he reaches across the bar for the bound beverage list.

He peers at the menu, squinting ever-so-slightly to see through the dim lighting of the bar. The skin beside his eyes is soft and creased with age, crow’s feet that hint at years of laughter and smiles. You wonder again how old he is. How much older than you.

“Forget your glasses?” you tease, testing the waters.

Joel’s eyes flash up to yours. The muscle in his jaw ticks.

“Watch it,” he says. There’s a playful note in his voice, but it rings deeper somehow—a hint of a warning.

Your thighs squeeze together on the stool, warm sweaty skin peeling off the tacky leather as you move. His eyes dart to the bare skin of your legs, and then back to the menu.

He orders you both a whiskey, and a moment later the bartender is sliding a crystal tumbler in front of you. A finger of amber liquid with a single grandiose sphere of ice resting in it. Fancy.

“Cheers,” he holds his glass out. You knock yours against it gently before taking a short sip, fighting a grimace as it burns down your throat.

He watches your face closely, tries to gage your reaction. You take another sip, holding strong in your efforts to show him that you can handle it. Whatever he wants to give to you, you can handle.

“So what brings you here?” he asks. You notice how large the glass feels in your palm, and how small it appears in his. Long, thick fingers wrap around the object, dwarfing it. He takes a sip, and you watch him swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs, and you want to graze your teeth across it.

“To the bar or to Maine?”

“Either.”

“Well, I just moved into town last week, from the West Coast. It’s actually my first week back in the US; I was travelling before the big move.”

“Busy girl,” his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. You blink. “Travellin’?”

“I was in Greece,” you explain, sip your whiskey and definitely don’t grimace at the harsh taste. “For a month or so.”

“A month in Greece?” His eyebrows raise and he does a low, impressed whistle that has your stare zeroing in on his mouth.

“Ever been?” you ask faintly.

“No,” his reply is swift. “Never had much interest.”

And you’re nodding absentmindedly, but you can’t seem to drag your stare away from his mouth as he speaks. The trance is only broken when he raises his glass for another sip, and you shake yourself out of it, eyes shifting to stare into his brown orbs once more. They’re darker than you remembered, gaze loaded as he looks back at you. The tension was palpable when you first sat together, but now it feels impossible to ignore; an electric tangle of wire between the two of you that just keeps getting shorter and shorter. And you think, fuck it, if you’re about to descend into the final circle of academic hell, why not have a little fun?

“Can I tell you something, Joel?”

You say it softly, make your voice as sultry as possible. He watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes sparkling with intrigue. And then his mouth tilts into a sort of knowing smirk, and he’s nodding.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” you confess.

He hums, smirk broadening.

Sets his glass down on the bar top with a soft clink, and then lowers his hand to the bare skin of your knee. You gasp at the contact, nerves fraught. The callouses on his fingers scrape against your skin in slow, rhythmic circles, goosebumps raising in their wake. His fingers are long, and as he tenses them over you, squeezing your knee once, you see the way deep blue veins flex beneath the skin, hot blood pumping through him. Your stomach turns molten.

“Is that all?” he asks, a taunting lilt to his voice.

Your mouth is dry, eyes wide as you sense the proposition in his words. The hint of something darker—something greedy—in his gaze.

“No,” you say definitively. “That’s not all.”

A sharp tut escapes his mouth, fingertips dragging higher on your leg as he shakes his head. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“Don’t look a day over forty,” you hazard a guess, resting your shoe onto the rung of his stool, using the leverage to drag yours closer. Both your legs are between his now, thighs bracketing thighs. The denim of his jeans scrapes against your outer thighs, and you shiver. His hand pauses, fingertips just shy of the hem of your skirt.

Joel wets his lips. “Guess again, sweetheart.”

A low heat licks at the base of your spine, spreading its way through your veins until you feel like you could combust at any given moment. Fuck it.

“Don’t care,” you mutter, and drape your hand over his. You trace your nails over his skin, feel how the bones shift underneath it, how warm he is. He still doesn’t move, face pensive as he regards you. You arch an eyebrow. “You approached me, you know.”

His lips purse tightly. Another squeeze to your thigh, fingers moving again. “I know.”

Driven by boldness, by arcane desire, by animalistic instinct, you lean forward on your barstool and rest your hands atop the thick expanse of his thighs. Hear his breath kick as your nose traces the side of his square jaw, lips settling at the shell of his ear. Right at the soft, sloping crest of his neck. And you whisper those same words again, quiet enough that no one in the world can hear it but him, can I tell you something?

Your movement drove his hand higher on your thigh, the heavy weight of it now settled beneath your skirt, fingertips skimming the indent where your leg meets your hip, toying at the soft fabric of your underwear there. Painfully close to where you want him.

“Yes,” his deep voice rumbles.

Ever so slowly, your tongue slides out of your mouth to trail against his earlobe. Joel’s thighs tense beneath your palms, and you roll the balls of your thumbs against the muscles there.

“I want to kiss you,” you murmur. “So I’m going to. And then I want you to fuck me, just like I know you want to.” Your teeth graze his lobe, and you bite it once, gently, before rearing your face back to peer at him. “Hmm?”

The muscle in his jaw jumps, shifting beneath the skin, and instead of responding verbally he cups your face with a rough hand. Cool drops of condensation from the glass have stuck to his fingers, and the liquid smears across your skin as he cradles your jaw and draws your mouth to his.

Soft lips envelop yours, the coarse hairs of his moustache tickling your face as he steals the breath from your lungs. And when you lick into his mouth you can taste peppermint on his teeth, and then that oh so familiar whiskey tang across his tongue. You don’t mind the taste so much when it’s on his lips.

You nuzzle closer, dig your fingertips firmer into his thighs and grin when a deep groan falls from his mouth into yours. Wet heat pools between your thighs, liquid fire that stokes at your insides, begging for more more more of him. And, as if he can read your mind, Joel is dragging his mouth away, teeth grazing against your swollen bottom lip as he departs.

“Bathroom,” he says, voice low and commanding. “Now.”

Shock and excitement lace your blood, the proposition of something so dirty, so lewd, making your heart race. With your pulse a dull, thrashing roar in your ears, you allow Joel to help you down from your stool. Your legs feel unsteady now that you’re back on solid ground. Gripping your hand, dwarfing it in his, Joel tugs you away from the bar top and towards an obscured hallway. You amble past the bachelorette party, down the dark hall and then he’s pressing a dark hand against the ambulant bathroom door and dragging you inside, sliding the lock shut behind you.

Joel’s on you in a second, arms bracketing you against the door as his wet mouth slips over yours. His hands are so big, all wide palms and long fingers splaying across the entirety of your back, tucking you against his solid chest. He bunches your shirt in his hand, twisting the material between his fingers as he pushes into your mouth. Tongue hot and wet, gliding against your teeth, your tongue, tasting you, devouring you. there’s nothing polite about it. No more wariness, no more hesitation, no more eyes that could see the two of you at the bar. He’s insatiable, touching you everywhere he possibly can, and even then it doesn’t seem like enough for him.

“Fuck, I want you,” you say against his mouth. He makes a low sound in response, and one of his palms lower to grab a handful of your ass, dragging your hips against his. You can feel him, hot and hard, straining in the confines of his jeans. Your hand presses into the crevice between your bodies to palm him through the material, grinning into the kiss when he groans. His lips trail a slick path across your cheek, past your jaw.

“Gonna let me fuck you here?” his hot breath fans across your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty sweat there.

“Yeah,” you say. “Fuck—yes.”

He steps back, dragging you with him, and then he’s turning you around so that you’re facing the mirror. Your hips dig into the sink, and he’s holding you there, forcing you to stare at your reflection as he bites and licks and sucks down your neck with reckless abandon, leaving marks in his wake. There’s a low, steady throbbing at the apex of your thighs, and you can feel how your underwear clings to your skin, damp and ruined. You whimper, tilt your chin up to give him access to more skin. He grinds against your ass in response, and then he’s crouching down on the ground behind you.

Fast hands push your skirt up over your hips and then flare across your ass, massaging the flesh there. You feel a nip of teeth against the sensitive skin there and flinch into the porcelain. He makes quick work of dragging your underwear down to dangle precariously at your knees. And then long fingers are spreading you apart, revealing you to him. You tilt your hips back so he can see more. Moan at the sensation of cool air rushing to meet your dripping core.

You think you can hear him speaking, but can’t be sure over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the low music playing in the bar. And then it doesn’t matter anymore, because you can feel his hot tongue glide through your folds, parting you like the sea. He buries his face in you, nose nudging against your asshole as his tongue swipes at your clit, moaning roughly as he absorbs the taste of you. You’re gasping, hooded eyes staring back at you in the mirror, and this time you can definitely hear him saying you’re so fuckin’ wet. The flat of his tongue smears from your clit to your entrance, and then he’s sinking it inside you. You reach behind your back and card your fingers through his hair, gripping the salt and pepper curls between your fingers and holding him against you. Joel doesn’t complain, groaning as you tug on his locks in encouragement, in fucking desperation.

Your thighs tremble where they bracket his head, threatening to squeeze around him at any moment if it weren’t for his vice grip keeping your spread apart. A choked sob of a moan claws its way out of your throat and then he’s standing again, chest against your back as you hear the clink of his belt coming undone, and he’s saying, I know, I know, you need it so bad, don’t you?

Your hand skirts around the firm sink and slips between your thighs, fingertips ghosting over your throbbing clit. The sound of foil crinkling echoes around the room, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh as he rolls the condom down his length. You peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, eyes widening as you take in the sheer size of his length. It’s long, with a prominent vein running from base to tip. It pulses, raging beneath the skin, practically daring you to drop down and run your tongue along the length of it. And you would if you thought he’d let you.

“Shit,” you breathe, skin tingling with a fresh wave of nerves and anticipation.

“It’s alright,” his voice is a low rasp, filling your ears like molasses, and his hand is rising to push stray hairs out of your face. “So fuckin’ wet f’me, I know you can take it, honey. You gonna show me how good you take co—”

He cuts himself off, eyes narrowing as he spots your fingers shifting between your thighs.

“So impatient,” he smacks your hand away with a grunt. “Silly little slut, can’t wait just a minute for me?”

A broken moan falls from your lips, shameful heat soaring through your chest. You shouldn’t love the way that word sounds falling from his lips, shouldn’t be so turned on by it, but you can feel how the ache in your core intensifies, and so you push your hips back against him.

“’m sorry,” you whine pitifully.

“You want it that bad?” Joel asks. His lips brush your earlobe as he nudges the thick head of his cock between your folds, gliding it through your slick once, twice, before notching himself at your entrance.

“I want it,” you gasp. “Wanted it from the second I saw you, Joel, please, pleas—”

Joel curses under his breath and loops a hand around your front, pushing the neckline of your shirt down to reveal your left breast. He slips his palm underneath the cup of your bra, long fingers pinching at the peaked bud of your nipple. Your skin burns under the attention, and you push your chest further into his hold.

“Shit,” he grunts, beginning to press himself inside. “I wanna fuckin’—wreck you, sweetheart.”

“Whatever you want,” you’re pleading, arching your back for him. Your fingers tighten around porcelain, bracing yourself. “Give it to me.”

You hear a muted, dark chuckle before Joel says, “Whatever I want, huh?”

And then he’s pressing inside you with a single, harsh thrust. His thighs come flush with yours and you gasp, face twisting at the sharp sting. The weight of him inside you is heavy, and you squirm at the intrusion, shifting on your feet. He allows you a moment—just a moment—to adjust to him, before he’s moving.

Joel finds a pace he likes and sets it. Heavy, unrelenting, expert rolls of his hips that have his tip brushing against the opening of your cervix with every shift forward. The air fills with harsh sounds of skin smacking against skin, and stilted moans and spilling from your lips as your hipbones collide rhythmically with the sink.

“Christ,” he spits, hand leaving your breast to grip your jaw. He forces your face forward, pace never slowing. “Fuckin’ look at you.”

You do as your told, gazing at yourself in the mirror. And you look wrecked. Hair a wild halo around your head, makeup smudged around your eyes and mouth, lips swollen and shiny with spit.

“Bein’ so—fuckin’—good,” he punctuates the words with his thrusts. His thumb digs into your cheek, and you can see him grinning in the mirror, lips peeled back to reveal that fucking perfect smile. “Dirty little thing, lettin’ a stranger fuck you like this.”

You mewl in response, stomach tensing as his cock grazes a particularly sensitive spot within you. Joel notices and seizes your waist, one hand holding you in place and the other falling to rub your clit while he pistons into you from behind.

“Shit,” you cry, eyes pinching shut as the intense medley of pleasure and pain begins to overwhelm you. Your orgasm claws its way up your chest.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he’s panting. “Can you feel you squeezin’ me, sweetheart. Go on, give it t’me, show me how wet that pretty pussy gets when you come.”

“Oh, fuck, oh—oh god, Joel.”

Your lungs feel empty, chest on fire as you rake in rapid breaths. Your entire body is constricting, muscles in your stomach drawn tight as you press firmer against the sink, thighs shaking with every impact of his hips against the plush of your ass. The pressure makes your head spin. And then something in the base of your spine snaps, and you’re falling apart in his grasp. Joel curses behind you, but the sound is faint, almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. Your vision goes white, body shifting forward as he fucks you through the high.

And even as you begin to come down, muscles going lax and body slumping against the sink, Joel is relentless. He uses you; gripping your hips to keep them tilted at the perfect angle, and just fucking wrecks you, exactly like he said he wanted to. A stream of profanities fill the air as his movements become disjointed, and you know he’s close. Can feel the way his cock twitches inside you, desperate for release. You tilt your face to the side and stare at him over your shoulder. Those dark eyes meet yours and his face crumbles, hand reaching to grip your shoulder and hold you down as he nears the precipice. You rut your ass back against him and he almost shouts.

“Fuck,” he growls. “That’s it, that’s it..”

And then he’s coming, cock jerking inside you in sporadic movements, and you’re wishing he hadn’t worn a condom so you could feel the heat of him spread inside your cunt. It’s intense, the yearning you feel to have him dripping out of you once he’s gone. But you settle for watching his face through bleary eyes, admiring the way his lips part and chin tilts towards the ceiling, eyes pinching closed as his body convulses against you.

For an all too brief moment, Joel doesn’t move. He slumps against your back, forehead resting in the gap between your shoulder blades, and just breathes. Haggard, drawn out exhales that send whisps of your hair flying forward into your face but you don’t care, too blissed out and relaxed underneath his weight to say anything. And then he’s straightening, and you gasp in unison as he grips your waist and slips out of you. There’s a determined ache between your thighs, pussy clenching around his absence, missing the weight of him already.

You sag onto the cold surface. Your mind is a blur, senses dulled from the intensity of your orgasm. The music in the bar has increased, and you imagine that your roommates must be wondering where you are, but can’t bring yourself to care all that much. You can hear him throw the condom into the trash, then there’s a low rustling as he drags his boxers and jeans back up his legs. Body trembling, you close your eyes and wait. Wait to hear the door open and close as he steps out, and leaves you in the bathroom alone, as you know he inevitably will.

But instead, you feel those hands, almost familiar now, grazing your back. They drag your panties back up and smooth your rumpled skirt down over your ass.

“Hey,” a soothing voice murmurs. “You good?”

You peer at him over your shoulder, uncontained surprise no doubt evident in your face. Joel’s expression is soft; cautious. He grips your shoulder and pulls you up, straightening your body. Drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth, wiping away the lipstick smudged there. His touches are so gentle, so tender, in comparison to a few moments ago. It almost gives you whiplash, and yet you find yourself melting under his gaze, because fuck, he’s handsome.

“I’m good,” you breathe, and he bares his teeth in a smile, cupping your jaw.

“Sweet girl,” Joel says. His head shakes once, slowly, eyes darting across your features, as if trying to memorise them. “I’m gonna remember this.”

You heart is in your throat all over again.

Your fingers fumble to adjust your top, smoothing it out as you smile, humming, “Yeah… yeah, I think I will too.”

A heady silence swells between you. His thumb brushes along your lower lip again, eyes watching the way your swollen mouth yields to his touch. The tip of your tongue slides out and glides over the tip of his digit, just for a second.

“Probably got your friends all worried,” Joel says then, hand dropping to his side. “Must be wonderin’ where you got to.”

You swallow down the disappointment you feel. It burns its way down your throat and into your stomach, not unlike the whiskey had. I don’t care, you want to say. Take me home with you. But you nod and agree. Glance in the mirror and rake numb fingers through bird’s nest hair, trying to tame your wild appearance. You swear you feel his hand graze the hem of your skirt one last time, playing with the soft material while he stares at you in the mirror.

The bubble pops as he unlocks the door, outside sounds rushing in through the gap, infiltrating the space that once smelt like sex and lust and now just feels like any other room. Joel doesn’t kiss you again. Doesn’t touch you. He steps into the hall, and you follow him out. And when he trails toward one side of the bar, with a final lingering glance at you over his shoulder, you begrudgingly head in the opposite direction to the booth, where your almost strangers await you with curious eyes and pinched brows.

Tuesday.

You feel hungover on the day of your first lecture.

A dull ache blossoms behind your left eye, a persistent reminder of how little sleep you had the night before. Your fingers wrap tightly around a tall styrofoam cup, and you take slow mouthfuls of the black coffee inside, attempting to savour the liquid gold, and letting the caffeine act as a saving grace for as long as possible.

You were normally so much better than this, too. Years had passed since your undergrad, and in the past you’d prided yourself on being punctual and prepared. But apparently one of the professors for this semester had it out for you, because when the required weekly prep work for your 9 o’clock Tuesday morning lecture was released the day prior, you were stunned to find that it included an entire fucking book.

After spending a dutiful two hours going over the weekly notes and required journal articles, you’d found yourself glaring at three sentences, written casually at the bottom of the professor’s notes.

Also, read Hesiod’s ‘Theogony’. It will do you well to have these ideas and themes fresh as you undertake the first weeks of this class. See you tomorrow.

Cue you staying up until two am reading fucking Theogony, and walking to your first lecture with a near-permanent yawn sprawled across your face.

As you approach history commons, a guy wearing a bottle green shirt that reads UNIVERSITY OF NEW ENGLAND in garish gold lettering shakes a pamphlet in your direction. It has a picture of a girl in a tiny athletic uniform on the front, preparing to spike a volleyball. You avoid eye contact and sidestep him quickly, continuing into the building.

The theatre room is easy enough to find.

Thirty odd chairs line the space on an incline, all facing toward a desk at the front of the room. A projector hangs from the ceiling, displaying the beginning of a slide show on a white wall. The slide is a muted beige colour, with stark black lettering that spells out: The Language and Literature of the Odyssey and the Aeneid.

Your professor stands with his back to the room, shuffling through a myriad of notebooks and loose-leaf pages splayed across the desk. Standard.

You traipse your way up the stairs, buoyed along by the steady stream of other students shuffling into the room, and take a seat a few rows from the front. Not too far back that you seem disinterested, and not so close that your professor will notice you falling asleep on the first day.

You open your notes on your laptop and then slump back into your chair, slurping down the final morsels of coffee in your cup before discarding it to the floor by your feet. And then the room quietens as a final group of students file in, heavy door swinging closed behind them, and you allow your eyes to rest upon the man at the foot of the space.

He’s tall. It’s impossible not to notice that first. Tall and broad. A thin white dress shirt stretches across the arch of his back, fighting to pull free from where it’s tucked neatly into the waist of his brown pants. From where you’re seated, you can see a dark head of hair shaking side to side every few moments, the man muttering inaudibly as he peers down at his notes.

You glance down at your laptop again. Watch your cursor blink against the white screen. And then you hear it.

“Alright folks,” an all too familiar voice drawls. “Let’s get down to it.”

You stiffen in your chair. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, palms going damp as a memory flits through your brain. One of your own voice.

An accent like that is hard to ignore.

You can’t make out what he’s saying anymore, every word overpowered by the sudden roar of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Slowly—so fucking slowly—you peel your eyes away from your laptop and glance upward.

And there he is, in all his glory. Pearly white smile. Strong jaw. Dark eyes.

Joel… your professor.

Fuck.

thank you for reading!! x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #ALP

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blkkizzat · 7 months

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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.

Enjoy!

“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”

Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground.

A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain.

Choso breathed in deeply.

A wave of calm washed over him.

Peace.

Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill.

It was beautiful.

Blood was beautiful.

The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.

Like a painting.

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush.

This was his art.

Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape.

He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.

Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red.

Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow.

It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18.

From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics.

He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.

Choso was meticulous in his process.

Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed).

His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them.

Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit.

Almost midnight.

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night.

☠

In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus.

The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.

No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that!

You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall.

“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”

“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered.

Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.

With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.

“Ladies–”

However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad.

Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.

“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree.

They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.

“Choso!”

You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.

“Hey Choooo! Wait up!” You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels.

Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.

Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you.

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.

Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were.

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor.

This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.

“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.

“Duh Choso–”

You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.

“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”

Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Of course he knew about the party.

The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys.

However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied.

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”

“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement.

“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”

Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.

“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.

But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student.

“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”

You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).

Choso swallowed.

On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back.

The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter?

Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.

“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.

He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.

“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold.

The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still.

With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders.

He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.

He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket.

You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.

You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class.

“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.”

Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.

“But I’m not alone silly!”

You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off.

They looked absolutely miserable.

“I have my pledges!”

Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless.

“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.

Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.

“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.

“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”

You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.

As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.

“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.

It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward.

You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you.

You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest.

Shit.

Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.

You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.

Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe.

His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.

Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg.

Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.

He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.

Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.

“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”

“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation.

Really don’t.

Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.

He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.

“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time.

He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.

You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges.

Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”

Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!”

Your pledges erupted with various replies from–

‘Thank God!’’

‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’

‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’

‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’

–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house.

You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing.

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did.

Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms.

He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good.

He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight.

You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you.

Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds.

You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus.

Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway.

He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes.

Also you did have a boyfriend.

An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.

Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too.

He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.

☠

Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.

Twice.

The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable.

Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.

It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.

He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did.

You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves.

The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were.

Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?

Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.

Fuck.

He was hard again.

He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful.

You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.

He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring.

You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.

Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority.

You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps.

You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting.

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.

“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.

He looked at it and back at you twice.

“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”

Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started.

Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began.

You didn’t look like you would last.

Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.

You proved him wrong though.

You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless.

You were also a hard worker.

It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions.

You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way.

The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.

Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again.

Choso put a hand over his face.

He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.

Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.

It was making Choso a bit reckless.

Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up.

He had to move more carefully.

Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.

“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!”

You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you.

Speak of the devil.

You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.

This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.

“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.

“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”

How could he forget?

However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills.

See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims.

But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.

“Oh and sorry!”

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath.

At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table.

“Oh Crap!”

You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.

“Y/N, Watch out!”

Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.

“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!”

You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.

Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’.

He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.

“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.

You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.

“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.

“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably.

“Oh! Like in Dexter!”

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.”

Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible.

Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research.

And so he does.

Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.

You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him.

Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.

You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face.

You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.

Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth.

Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it.

You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you.

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.

Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body.

Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away.

“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.”

No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.

“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?”

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again.

You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle.

“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.”

Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.

“I- that is.. I meant-”

Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it.

“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.

“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.

“Hey!”

Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.

You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso.

You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.

Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip.

You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face.

“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.

Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo.

You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.

Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.

If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!”

“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.

“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.

Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell.

Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?

“Uh hey, Dean I..”

You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you.

His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.

“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”

Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife.

Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect.

Tch.

With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books.

This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.

Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.

Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent.

You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso.

You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.

The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.

“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.”

“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?”

Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record.

You could not let this turn into an incident.

“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso.

Just her T.A.

Right.

Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.

He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that.

Not anymore.

“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.”

Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.

You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off.

You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.

“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”

Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned.

Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes.

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so.

“W-wait Cho–”

You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.”

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag.

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off.

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13

comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!

PART 2

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fanwarriorfictions · 28 days

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Not Again

Azriel x Rowaelin Daughter Reader

Summary: Azriel has a bad habit of finding random females falling onto the River House lawn. This time, the female in question catches him off guard, and she seems to be even stranger than the last.

Series Masterlist

-Part One-

There was a shift in the air, so subtle that it could’ve been passed off as a breeze through a cracked window. He would’ve thought just that if it hadn’t been for the keen wisps of shadows at his shoulders whispering in his ears, outside, someone’s here, outside, here, here, here, here.

The room filled with his family was non the wiser as the shadowsinger shifted towards the door, all of them talking and laughing by the fire place. Feyre and Rhys cozied up on the loveseat, little Nyx nestled in his mothers arms. Nesta sitting on Cassian’s lap, the sisters talking about the recent books they’d read, his brothers admiring their mates. Mor sipped on her third glass of wine, listening to Elain talk about her blooming garden while she absently fiddled with her still full glass, Lucien sitting comfortably by her side, content to just listen to his mate talk. Amren was nowhere to be found tonight, Varian presumably in town.

Azriel found it easy to slip out the back door, ready to deal with the supposed trouble without disturbing his family’s peace. His shadows didn’t seem alarmed, persistent, but not noting any imminent threat. Despite their ease, he found Truth Teller in his hand, ready to deal with whoever he found if necessary.

It was dark outside, the brisk night air dancing over his fire warmed skin. Calm, no sign of that subtle shift, nothing but his shadows urging him towards the garden, towards whoever was out here causing the small disturbance.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, what he was expecting to find. Maybe a drunk who wandered to far from the main streets of Velaris, maybe a curious young fae who just wanted a glimpse of the inner circle. He’d dealt with his fair share of both, gently warning them away from the home.

But whatever he’d been expecting it certainly wasn’t what he found. A female laid on the ground, clothes and skin covered with dirt and blood, her body sprawled like she’d been thrown down without care. He could sent fresh blood on her coming from a wound on her head, the stream of it dripping down onto the stones beneath her. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat strong.

Azriel clenched the blade’s hilt tight in his hand, drawing closer to her slowly. Her scent drifted towards him on a phantom wind, pine and snow, like the mountains of Illryia. Despite his resentment of the people who lived there, the scent reminded him of home.

His shadows curiously trail around the female, finding more and more injuries, a cut on her thigh, bruising across her abdomen. Whoever she was, she had seen her fair share of violence. She was high fae, her ears arched into delicate points, though he could not discern which court she may belong too. Her clothes were to disheveled to detect a distinct style, black leather pants and a long sleeved green shirt beneath a leather vest sheathed with knives like a bandolier. Clothes that could belong to any court, maybe even from the continent.

So busy examining her he didn’t detect the change in her breathing until it was to late.

The female launched up with such speed he was almost to slow to block the attack. She’d pulled one of those knives from her vest, it’s wickedly sharp edge to close to his throat for comfort. Truth Teller blocked the blade, the metal singing against her dagger. The female was quick to pull back, not lunging again like he thought she would but reaching for a smaller knife at her ribs, it was flying through the air faster than he could blink, aiming for his eye with remarkable accuracy, Cassian would be proud of a throw like that. The only reason it didn’t take his eye was due to a shadow darting out to grab the blade midair.

The female is a blur as she lunges again, going for the arm holding his blade. He dodges back, the strike missing him by a hair. She’s fast, faster than most fae he’s fought over the centuries. He catches her next strike, a blow to his side that could’ve left him bleeding out on the floor. She pulls back and retreats a few steps, her stance shifting back like she might jump at him again.

“Stop,” he snarls at her.

She hisses, baring her teeth at him, teeth with unusually sharp canines, and then she speaks, a language he’d never heard before. And that’s when the pieces start to click, when his shadows start to whisper, not of this world, another, another world, another, another, another.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grounds out, “not again.”

The female only snarls, reaching for another of those small wicked blades. She flips it, pinching the sharp tip between her fingers.

“Wait,” he says, sheathing his dagger at his side, “just wait.”

Her eyes track his movements, the ice cold look in them enough to make him shiver. It felt like the air around them tried to freeze under her gaze, the wind no longer a soft breeze but an ice kissed howl.

His head cocked to the side, that was her, she was controlling the wind. The air swirling around them faster and faster, colder and colder.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said though he was sure she couldn’t understand him.

He held his hands up so she could see them, willing his shadows away so he could look as unthreatening as possible. When the last unknown female had landed on this lawn, she’d fallen right in front of him, he’d been able to get his blade angled to her throat before she had anytime to react, this female on the other hand, had managed to get the jump on him first, a fact that his brothers would never let him live down.

The wind bit at his wings, discomfort sooner turning to pain if it kept up like that. It felt like the moisture in the air was turning to ice, slicing into his skin.

She repeats her words, her voice hard and unforgiving just like the wind around them. A shield, he realized, a casing of wind to block all sound, to keep others out and to keep him trapped.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, hoping she can understand the plea in his tone.

Her head tilts, examining him from head to toe, a predator studying its next meal. In that moment, Azriel had never felt more like prey in his life. She had an intensity that rivaled Nesta and Amren, like she knew she was the most powerful creature in the room and she’d be happy to prove it. This female was dangerous, strong, fast, and from another world just like Bryce Quinlann, he could only hope she’d turn out to be an ally as well.

Blood still drips down her face, the cut on her brow deep and jagged, like it had been ripped across a dull object. The scent of her blood filled his nose, laced with that pine and snow, and something warm, like an ember drifting from a fire. Again, it smelled uncannily like home.

Those cold eyes flare wide, the frost bitten wind warming a fraction. Something in her posture shifts, no longer in fight mode, but flight.

“Stop,” he pleads, “hold on.”

Her voice shifts when she speaks, lighter and less harsh, he still can’t understand any of it. His confusion must be evident on his face because she scoffs, lowering the dagger to her side, still not sheathing it. The wind fades away, replaced by a warm gentle breeze that thaws his near frozen wings.

Azriel sighs in relief and she cocks her head at the sound. Her eyes take in his wings, noting the frost on them that slowly melts away. The air seems to get even warmer then.

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head to show his gratitude, all while keeping an eye on her.

Though she seems to be less hostile, he wouldn’t let his guard down for a second around her.

He felt it then, the gentle prying talons on his mind, ones he instantly let in. Showing Rhys exactly where he was and who was before him.

Not again, Rhys sighs.

That’s what I said, Azriel replies.

And then that night kissed power settles around them, the female’s eyes hardening back to ice, dagger already raised and ready to defend herself. Azriel was half tempted to tell her it wasn’t worth it, that there was little she could do against Rhys, but he kept his mouth shut as his high lord appeared before them. Giving the female that cool charming look that had most ready to eat out of the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have that kind of reaction, instead she lifted that dagger towards his high lord, a snarl on her lips, those vicious canines on display.

“Well that’s interesting,” Rhys says, coolly looking her over, “high fae, but not one of ours.”

She snaps at him, words he couldn’t understand but by the way she ground them out Azriel could tell they weren’t niceties.

“I’m sure that was her way of calling me a prick,” Rhys chuckles, “I’d recognize it in any language.”

Azriel eyes the two of them, he has no doubts that his high lord could defend himself against the female, but after the last encounter he’d had with a foreign fae he didn’t want to underestimate her. Rhys seems to agree, Azriel can almost see the invisible attack he launches, and he sees the exact moment Rhys hits a wall of pure ice around her mind.

His high lord hisses in pain at the exact moment a bright blue light flares from the female, a mark shining on her brow. The mark like those in the book of breathings, like the horn on Bryce’s back.

The female swears, free hand touching that mark as if she could will it back beneath her skin. Her dagger is aimed for Rhys, but her eyes dance between them both, watching for any movement from Azriel, ready to take both of them on in a heartbeat if it was necessary.

“Go get Amren,” Azriel says, “and bring one of those damned translators.”

Rhys is gone within a split second, and the female is angling that dagger at Azriel instead, a warning to stay back, she makes no move to fight nor flee, her frozen stare colder than before though the air continues to stay warm.

Azriel simply holds his hands in the air, “We mean you no harm.”

She responds in that soft swirling language, his shadows writhe in answer, almost like they could understand her. She frowns at them as they travel across the ground towards her, a soft snarl from her lips has them skittering back. Interesting, the way she seems almost familiar with them, he wonders if she’d encountered fae like him before, maybe like Quinlann’s brother.

Rhys and Amren appear in that night kissed darkness, the female’s attention snapping towards them. Amren curiously examines the girl, that mark that still simmers faintly in her brow.

“Are you collecting more strays?”

Azriel doesn’t respond to the jab, watching as Amren takes the small silver bean from her pocket and throws it towards the female without warning. She catches it with ease, glancing between it and Amren with a raised brow.

“Eat,” Amren commands, miming the action, taping on her mouth as she speaks, “to understand.”

Her eyes find Azriel’s, brow quirked in confusion. He simply nods, mimicking Amren’s actions. She seems to understand that, as she lifts the translator to her mouth and swallows it down.

And just like that she erupts, not with that ice cold wind, but with fire, hotter and stronger than that of the heirs of Autumn. Maybe even hotter than Beron’s himself. A shield from Rhys traps the explosion of power though he winces from the effort of keeping her contained. The fire rages, the earth below her turning to ash in an instant. She burns so hot that the flame around her starts to turn blue. She burns and burns and burns, so bright Azriel shields his eyes, so hot that the shield around her can barely contain that heat.

Rhys does not remove the shield until that fire stops its raging, until all that’s left is smoke and ash. She had collapsed on the floor, her dagger red hot against her skin yet it doesn’t burn her hand. That mark burns brighter as she glares up at them, vibrant blue that lights up the world around them.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” she snaps, her voice tinged with that soft accent of her language.

“Hard to do that when we don’t speak your tongue,” Amren snaps back. “Who are you?”

Her ice cold stare is unsettling as it examines them all. She stands from the ground, that red hot blade lifting towards them, the air warping from the heat.

“My name is Y/n Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius,” her voice is steady, regal, “Crown Princess of Terrasen. And I’d like to know which one of you opened the gate that dragged me here.”

#this is so self indulgent #but I don’t care at all #Azriel’s shadows are cute little busybodies and I love them #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin

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jiminscockr1ng · 1 month

Text

✩｡°𝄞📱HOP ON THE STREAM𝄞°✨｡✩

╝ short story ╔

╰₊ 𓂂➢ pairing: jungkook x black!reader

╰₊ 𓂂➢ genre: streamer!jungkook x black!reader, strangers to friends/friends to lovers, lots of fluff, smut.

╰₊ 𓂂➢ warn!ngs: nothing much; jungkook and reader does banter, reader slaps jungkook (permission granted), unprotected sex, pulling out, slight masochism (no prep), dry humping, etc. [let me know if there’s more]

╰₊ 𓂂➢ summary: you and one of the most watched streamers, jeon jungkook cross paths on a random sunday afternoon. oddly, the two of you become a hot topic over night— landing you in south korea with the spunky streamer for a round two.

╰₊ 𓂂➢ word count: 11,877 words

╰₊ 𓂂➢ author’s note: this took soooo long to write!! i haven’t reread or edited anything so if there are any misspellings or grammatical mistakes, just know i haven’t checked everything over yet. i’m just so happy to be done and i hope you all enjoy it!

You breathe in the fresh air as you walk one of the various paths of the humongous park. Randomly deciding that you needed to get out of your crammed apartment, you’ve made your way to central park. The sun shined lucently on your melanin skin— looking as if god himself came down to give you a huge kiss on your forehead.

You wear a white puffer vest over your black nike hoodie. The khaki colored cargo pants clings perfectly to your legs. Enhancing your curves just right and in all the right places.

Strutting down the path in your clean white air forces. You flip your butt-length knotless braids behind you to adjust your headphones, furrowing your brows though.

‘What the fuck is that?’, you think.

This obnoxious voice— it’s not even so much the voice, it’s the yelling. So enthusiastic and high pitched, nearly sounding strained.

“Yoooo! This shit is lit as hell, I can’t lie! If anyone in New York right now— dm me, for real. What? Chat stop hatin’, yall act like y’all ain’t ever seen rats before.”

You can hear the voice growing closer despite the Sza song that is blasting in your ears. Nothing pisses you off more than hearing someone’s voice through your headphones. It simply shouldn’t be possible— you have good fucking headphone! Expensive as shit!

You decide to ignore it until you see a figure walking beside you in your peripheral view. You look to see what or who it could be and it’s a man. Young man. Fairly long black hair— hanging fluffy over his undercut, cute nose, bright doe eyes, eyebrow piercing, two silver lip rings accessorizing his thin pink lips.

Hot as hell, if you do say so yourself. And the man seems to be… talking to you. Pausing the song that blasts into your ears to hear him, your feet halts to respond.

“What?” You curiously ask. The taller man seems to find your response quite hilarious. Laughing, his smile catches your eye. He has a really nice smile. But that’s not exactly the point right now.

“I said, are you taking applications?” He repeats. If you thought you were confused before, you might as well be underneath a google search for oblivion. Because what is he talking about. “I’m sorry, applications? I’m not sure I’m understanding you correctly.” You stammer on your words and then your eyes widen when the man takes a step closer to you. Not too close, but just enough to get a whiff of his cozy-like scent. His demeanor— the look in his eyes is seductive. It intrigues you but also at the same time makes you want to run for your life.

“Application for free feet massages.” He says with this low voice as if he’s spitting the most legendary game at you. He absolutely is not. Evident on your face as you scrunch it up in disgust.

Before you can even curse him out he bursts into a fit of laughter. That’s when you notice the huge light extension connected on the top of his phone. Then the buff man standing close behind him, holding the biggest camera you’ve ever seen. You should’ve known.

“I’m fucking with you,” he says. “I’m streaming right now—” He turns to point at the camera. “Chat told me to come talk to you.” You awkwardly nod, knowing that you’re being recorded right now. “I can see that.”

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You simply nod your head, continuing your way down the path. You’ve always seen different youtube videos of youtubers or different streamers approaching people on the streets. You’ve never really imagined someone approaching you like that. It’s entertaining to watch— you agree, but admittedly it’s quite awkward being caught off guard.

Still, you can hear the man talking behind you. Assumably to the ‘chat’.

“Chill yall. I’m not gonna do that.” He tries to speak lowly, replying to the people who wish him to approach you again. “I’m gonna look like a fucking freak.” He cards his hand through his hair. It did not help that he wasted his moment to shoot his shot, too busy trolling. To be fair he panicked once he got a better look at you. You’re stunning. He knew he fumbled once you started talking to him. The chat was simply telling him to recover the trophy. The trophy being you.

“Hey,” you hear the familiar voice again. Fighting to not roll your eyes. He jogs toward you and you stop walking once again. This time, you’re a bit frustrated. You snatch your headphones off of your head. “If you’re gonna stand here and ask me some dumb shit again—”

“No, no that was my fault.” He raises his hands in defense. “I really wanted to ask for your social. You’re really pretty, just wanted to talk to you.” He calmly says, in contrast to the obnoxious high energy voice he used previously. You’re not buying it though. This has to be another prank.

“Listen, I don’t know what prank you’re pulling for your stream but I just wanna be on my way.” You can see the panic behind his eyes as you speak. He doesn’t make it too apparent but it’s there. He can’t fumble— he won’t fumble!

“I promise I’m not pulling any prank on you. Look!” He extends his hand to show you his phone. It seems to be some sort of monitoring set up for his stream and in the corner is the live chat box. You read as the thousands of comments that quickly scrolls by. Comments saying, “not a prank”, “L rizz”, “she bad as hell”, “he don’t know what to do with allat”. You decide that you’ve seen enough.

Enough to know he’s being honest. For the most part… you guess.

“Okay.” You shrug in defeat, not really knowing where to go from here. “If you’re not cool with sharing your social can I at least get you something to eat?” He asks and struggle to not show your immediate interest. You’re hungry as hell and free food is the best. Especially when a greek god is offering to pay for it. So of course the answer is yes. But you don’t forget to play a little hard to get. Guys love the chase.

“Mm, I don’t know.” You try to sound highly unsure. His eyes are practically pleading with you to say yes. Probably so you won’t embarrass him in front of his viewers. “You’re not gonna kidnap me, right?”

At that moment, he smiles again. A smile of relief. “Naw, forgot to bring my van with me— you’re good.”

The two of you— plus the unreasonably large cameraman walk a good amount of distance to reach the nearest taco bar. Reckoning that walking would be safer after the little van joke, you both talked the whole walk there.

Learning that his name is Jungkook, born in Korea, studied in New York at a young age before moving back to Korea. He fell into the streaming lifestyle after gaming for a few years. It seems that a lot of his viewers are active in the US. And ironically, this is his first time being in New York since he moved back to Korea. This also just so happens to be his last day here, catching a flight back home tonight.

It being just a weird little coincidence that the two of you met. Once seated at the restaurant’s table you can Jungkook continue getting to know one another. The fact that the camera is still recording the conversation is completely disregarded by you and Jungkook.

“Tell me more about yourself, though. Like what do you do— other than take random walks at central park?” He asks, completely invested in your life. You let out a nervous laugh as you try to put your situation into words.

“Umm, well at the moment I’m going to school and working.” You say but Jungkook wants to know more. Not just the surface level stuff. “Okay, going to school for what?” He asks curiously, his doe eyes wide and peering deeply into yours. You have to break eye contact, afraid of getting lost into the dark irises.

“Cosmetology— trade school. I do that part-time and work full-time.” Jungkook’s eyebrows raise at your presumably active schedule, whispering a “wow”. You nod your head. “It’s a lot but I have a lot of plans and I already feel that I’m behind so… stress now and it’ll pay off later.” You shrug nonchalantly before taking a sip of your strawberry lemonade the waitress had just brought to your table.

“What plans, exactly?” You furrow you eyebrows, a little smile forming on your face. “You sure do have a lot of questions.”

“Guilty,” he returns the smile. “But really, I’m interested. Here I am thinking you’re the lucky one. I’m not sure how the hell I caught you on an off day.” He says and you can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy in the inside. Jungkook is an amazing listener and you have yet to really elaborate on your future plans to anyone else— fearing to feel like a bother or hear any discouraging comments. You find yourself growing a bit excited to talk about your dreams. The dreams you work hard to achieve everyday.

“I want to open my own salon.” There goes that breathtaking smile again. “That’s incredible, really!?” You nod your head slightly, an odd feeling of shyness washes over you. “Yeah um, I spent two years in college after high school majoring in business. I knew from a young age that working for someone else wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed. However, I still didn’t know what I wanted to do.” Jungkook rests his chin on his palm, willing to listen to you talk all day.

“After I received my associates degree, someone recommended me to try out cosmetology school. I was doing hair already— only friends and family. So I ended up going and I actually really enjoy it. So,” You scratch your arm to try to distract the mean and discouraging voices in your head telling you to not say anything about your plan in case things fall through. Jungkook nods his head for you to continue, anticipating to hear more about your story.

“So I— uh began planning. Like opening my own salon and stuff. Saving my money up. Tapping into other things like nails and makeup, stuff like that.” You say rather awkwardly and unconfident. Jungkook can’t help but notice. “Don’t try to water it down. It’s your plans— your dreams. Stand proud on that shit.” He says making you giggle. Encouraging nonetheless; despite the uproarious way he put it.

“Okay okay,” you sigh. “I want to open a huge salon. Where people can come and get their hair done, nails, makeup, a spa, masseuses— all that. The ultimate feel good, self care spot. With a beauty supply store inside of the salon.” You continue adding on, listing off all of your ideas on your freshly manicured fingers and Jungkook smile grows as you do. His energy easily rubs off on you.

“Yo, that’s lit as fuck! So I can go get my hair done and then go buy products at the same place?!” He indulges into your plans and you nod, laughing at his candid excitement. “Or better yet, after I get my hair done— I can go and get a massage.” You hold your hands over your face to hide the overwhelming feeling of happiness. Somehow, the guy has figured out how to make you feel absolutely on top of the world.

To your surprise, you’re actually enjoying his unexpected company. More than enjoying it, you can practically drown yourself in the amount of entertainment you’re receiving. You seriously haven’t had this much fun in your spare time in so long.

All of your friends are introverted homebodies. As an ambivert, your mood is based solely on your companys’. And Jungkook is a natural extroverted, outgoing individual. You can’t help feeling high energy when around him. You gracefully indulge in his presence. Him and the nachos that you’re aggressively shoving down your throat.

“Damn little lady, you sure know how—”

“Don’t even finish that fucking quote.” You playfully glare at him across the table, your words muttered together due to the food stuffed inside your jaws. Obediently, he shuts the fuck up. “This is actually really good. I need to come here more often.” You comment once you finish chewing. Jungkook perks up.

“Lemme try some!” He says, all too excited. “My nachos?” He nods his head and you hum in agreement. When picking up a nacho— making sure to get the necessary ingredients on top of it, you extend your arm for Jungkook to grab it.

Instead, he opens his mouth wide, indicating the want of you to put it in his mouth. You nearly flinched. “I am not hand feeding you these fucking nachos, Jungkook.” You state and he pouts. It’s the cutest thing ever but you’re being recorded so you must focus!

“Why?” Still pouting, his eyebrows creased.

“Because…” You turn your head to look at the camera that stood up on the table right beside yours and Jungkook’s. His camera man sitting at the same table, chowing down on his burrito. That seems to be a clear answer for Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about the camera— it doesn’t matter.” He fans his hand, insisting for you to feed him your nachos. You look down at his phone—

“They’re saying you’re a munch.” His pout falls in to a stank face as he snatches his phone off of the table to look at the chat. He scoffs. “Y’all are literally D1 haters!” He continues arguing with the chat as you let out little giggles at some of the comments that were made.

“Fuck them, can you just feed me the nacho.” He says in defeat. A mischievous smile rests on your face. “Say please.” You demand and Jungkook rolls his eyes but of course, obedient as always. “Please!” He sings, you couldn’t help but laugh. Nodding your head you feed him the nachos and he moans in satisfaction. That did a little something to your insides.

A smudge of sour cream is left on the corner of his lip, his tongue failing to lick it off. Mindlessly, you reach to wipe it off with your finger. Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit at the action and his cheeks turns a faint pink. Again, you laugh. Something you seem to be doing a lot of. “Awe, are you blushing?” You tease and his expression immediately goes nonchalant. “No, it was just unexpected.” You couldn’t help it though. You have the upper hand. “Poor Kookie can’t handle the rizzler.” You joke and he laughs. Revealing that toothy smile you adore.

“You’re not funny.”

“I really am though. I’m gonna take over your whole career one day. They call me the career snatcher.” You joke, putting on a feigned smug smile. Only to continue seeing that smile and hear the sound of his quite crazy high pitched laughter a little longer.

“Absolutely no one calls you that.” He says in between laughter.

“Wanna bet?” He shakes his head before pulling out his wallet, grabbing some cash to pay for the bill. “Nope, I wanna go somewhere fun.”

You watch as he tips the waitress, handing her a hefty 50 bucks. The waitress smiles brightly before thanking him and takes hold of your empty plates. His focus turns back to you and he drums his hands on the table. “Be my tour guide.” He says, wanting to spend more time with you. You find his lame excuse of asking you out again funny.

“You’re not a tourist.” He shrugs. “You literally lived her for like 7 years.” You add, flipping your braids over your shoulder. “5 years, actually. And that doesn’t matter.” He corrects.

You roll your eyes figuring that he’s too stubborn to come out and say he wants to continue hanging out with you. Fortunately for him, you’re not sure you want to leave him just yet either. “What do you want to do?” You question and his face lights up. Truly, like a kid whose parent said they can eat ice cream.

“Is there an arcade around here?”

Unlike last time, you allow yourself to catch a ride with Jungkook and his cameraman, Benny. You’re sure that Jungkook won’t kidnap you and Benny actually seems to be a big softly despite his tough apearance.

Once the three of you enter the famous arcade you’re swamped by nearly a dozen kids. All seeming to be die hard fans of the tall muscled man next to you. His smile as he talks to the kids is so lovable you can’t help but to smile yourself as he interacts with them. Giving out hugs and autographs and pictures.

The kids don’t hesitate to follow you and Jungkook around the arcade. You couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Not even fully adjusting to the fact that you’re being recorded and people can see everything you do and say in real time, now there are dozens of people— kids, teenagers, a few adults tagging along.

Jungkook seems to have noticed your change of behavior. He grabs your hand, dragging you along with him. “Let’s play a game, c’mon!” He shouts and your heart drops as you feel his hand in yours. The two of you approach a shooting game. Jurassic Park. You’ve played the game multiple times before and you’re actually pretty good at it.

“This one.” He says, sounding out of breath. You nod as you grab a scrunchie out of your pocket. Jungkook is so hyped he doesn’t even notice the action. Boasting himself up to the crowd that surrounds the gaming booth. “You sure you can keep up, _______? You know I’m a gamer, right?” He brags on and you put your braids in a ponytail behind you. “Jungkook is trash!”Someone amongst the crowd screams and you don’t even try to hide your laughter.

“What is the beef?! Y’all hate on me on and offline.” He turns to look at you. “Watch, I’m about to destroy you,” he says competitively. You’re not sure if he knows that this is a team game. You two will not be competing against each other, rather against the dinosaurs that are trying to stomp on you.

The crowds’ laughter tells you that they are aware as well. You shrug your shoulders at them and they tell you not to say anything.

You two settle inside of the booth and you try to not think about the way his thighs rests next to yours. As the game starts up you take off your coat and Jungkook swipes the card.

The countdown starts and you both raise your guns. The cut scene starts and almost immediately the dinosaurs start running to attack you. You began shooting the targets and notice that Jungkook’s shooting is off.

“What— where is your dinosaur?!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Shooting the dinosaurs that attempt to attack you and even handling Jungkook’s load of work. You hear some people watching gasping and hyping you up which frustrates Jungkook.

“What am I supposed to do?!” He screams and on queue Jungkook dies leaving you in the game alone. You join in with the laughter surrounding the booth and Jungkook sinks into his seat as he watches you shoot all of the dinosaurs.

Eventually you win and turn your focus on Jungkook, who glares at you. You chuckle before mockingly tapping his cheek, grabbing your jacket to get up out of the booth. A few people approach you to give you high-fives and when Jungkook exits everyone makes sure to boo him. If it wasn’t for the way you’re cutely smiling back he would’ve definitely continued his trash talk. Instead, he reluctantly follows you to the next game.

The two of you end up playing almost every single game in the arcade, some fans even come to play alongside you guys.

You and Jungkook are currently picking a song on the dancing machine arcade game. Jungkook is really excited about this game— his competitiveness taking over. “Why do you keep trying to beat me, Kook?” You ask as he carefully scrolls through the song selections, that seemingly are all K-pop songs. “Because you keep winning! So until I win, I won’t stop trying to beat you.” You burst into a fit of laughter at his childish protest before putting on a feigned pout.

“Awe, he’s passionate.” You slowly rub his back and you can feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. “Stop… you’re distracting me.” He mumbles, the words only fall onto your ears. You simply giggle finding it cute that you some sort of affect on him. “Just pick a song, it’s really not that serious.”

He groans before picking the next song: Regular by NCT127. You both get into position and the people surround you both, cheering for you. You turn to see Jungkook’s little frown on top of his focused face. You don’t know whether to feel bad or swoon over how cute he looks right now.

The two of you start dancing and you come to a conclusion. Jungkook must’ve put this shit on hard mode.

You can barely keep up, nearly tripping over your feet as you try to predict the next dance move. Jungkook seems to be having a hard time as well.

When he notices you getting the hang of it he lets out a loud “no”. You scoff before quickly glancing at him. “What is this your villain origin story— get it together Kook.” He absolutely could not get it together. The big ass shoes he’s sporting didn’t help much either. So he resorted to sabotage.

You feel a light shove to your shoulder, knocking you off of the machine. Jungkook laughs when he sees your face. But when you run back on the machine it quickly drops. You hook your foot around his making him fall onto the ground.

Roars of laughter surrounds the two of you as you tussle while attempting to do the dance steps. Jungkook manages to pick you up off of the ground while dancing. You can’t even fight it, your body so weak from laughter. When the song ends he put you down and you slap his shoulder. “You cheated!” Jungkook only laughs at you before the score drops on the screen.

“I won! I fucking won— look at you!” He points and laugh at you and you just watch him, completely worn out. “You happy now?” You say, grabbing your puffer vest, slipping it back over your hoodie. He happily nods.

“I should get going. I have work in the morning.” You purse your lips, feeling disappointed to even say the words. You can tell Jungkook is as well by the way he hesitatingly nods his head and calls for Benny.

“We’ll drop you off at your place.”

Benny pulls into the parking lot of the apartment complex and you make sure you have everything before leaving the car. Jungkook places a hand on your arm and asks for you to say something to the chat before you leave.

“Okay right,” you say to the camera. “This was a fun little surprise. Jungkook’s really cool even though he can’t play games for shit.” He softly nudges your shoulder while innocently looking out the window making you giggle. “It was really fun meeting some of you today. Keep supporting Jungkook, he’s a really nice person and is just really… authentically him.” Jungkook turns to look at you and he believes that he could throw up from the way the butterflies in his stomach are moving. Looking at your pretty brown eyes, your smooth brown skin and those plumped lips that are just so tempting he could—

“Okay, I’m leaving now. Bye!” You wave your hands at the camera before awkwardly leaving the car. Jungkook sits there in panic as he watches you approach the door. It’s not supposed to end like that, right?

He hurriedly hops out of the car, jogging up behind you. Similar the way he did when he first saw you at the park. You turn your head at the sound of footsteps behind you, surprised to see Jungkook. “What are you—”

“I’m walking you to the door.” He says, trying to act nonchalant as if he didn’t just sprint out the car after you. “I can walk to the door myself. You know, because I’ve been living here for 3 years now.” You speak sarcastically and Jungkook sighs. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.” You roll your eyes at yet another one of his lame excuses but decide to not say anything more.

Within seconds you meet the door and Jungkook mentally curses at the fact that it wasn’t some long path to get there.

Staring up at the tall raven haired man you wish that he would have just stayed in the car. Because now it’s going to be a lot harder to say goodbye. Because you know that you’re never going to see him again.

“Ahm—” you choke as you begin to speak. “I don’t know what to say.” Awkwardly rocking on the heels of your shoes. He lets out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah um, same.” You look back at the car and see that you two are in fact not being recorded. “I had a really nice time with you today— it was fun.” Jungkook says and you nod. The awkward tension between the two of you makes you want to run inside the building and don’t look back.

“You sure you’re not just saying that?” You reply, teasing him one last time. He scoffs. “Wow, even with no cameras you still don’t believe me.”

“Hard to believe someone who jokingly gives out free foot massages” The both of you share a laugh. Jungkook opens his arms wide, indicating his want for a hug. You more than willingly comply, immersing yourself into his warmth. His arms wrap around your body as yours do his. You don’t want to move. You don’t want him to leave. For some reason, the mere 5 hours spent with him feels like 5 months and you don’t know how to say goodbye.

His chin gently rests on top of your head as he gets a whiff of your coconuty aroma. “You have my number, _______. Don’t be scared to use it.” He mutters atop your head and you nod into his chest. “You have mine too.” You add before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’m gonna go inside now. Text me before you board your flight.” Your voice is low and gloomy, matching Jungkook’s face. You make your way through the door, sending him one more wave before heading up the stairs.

That night you went to sleep in a horrible mood. The weird feeling of missing someone you just met consuming you. You even called off of work just to get one more day to relax.

Never in a million years would you have thought that by the time you wake up tomorrow, you’d be the hot topic all over social media.

Notifications rapidly blare from your phone, waking you up— something your alarm failed to do. You squint your eyes as the bright light of your phone nearly blinds you. You gasp as you check the time, realizing that you’ve slept like a baby for more than half of the day. But blind is what you think you are once you see all of the notifications.

Millions of followers on your social media accounts. Tiktok, Instagram, Twitter— all of it. Completely flooded with likes, follows and comments and dm’s. You go on Youtube to see you and Jungkook all over your feed.

What surprises you the most is the text messages from Jungkook. You didn’t expect him to actually text you after yesterday, assuming that he was just being kind by giving you his phone number. But when you open your message app, you see a thread of messages from him.

jungkook: jus got on the plane. hope ure sleeping well ❤️ 9:47pm

jungkook: is it like weird that i kind of missed u? 9:50pm

jungkook: i asked benny but u know he’s like kinda old and stuff. 9:50pm

jungkook: do feel like that too? like do u miss me? 9:51pm

jungkook: nvm don’t answer that shit 😭 9:51pm

jungkook: jus get sum rest. 9:52pm

jungkook: omggg i jus landed in taipei and ure like famous!!! wake upppp!!! 1:32pm

You should’ve braced yourself for the roller coaster you just went through reading his text messages. Nonetheless, you text him back.

you: are you sniffing crack or something? calm down 😧 1:52pm

jungkook: why r u jus waking up 🤨 1:54pm

you: i called off and overslept. it was rough last night. 1:54pm

jungkook: have u checked any of ur socials?? 1:55pm

jungkook: the stream is like literally EVERYWHERE! 1:55pm

you: yeah i’m looking now. this is actually crazy— i knew you were popular but fuck! my notifications are flooded 😭😭😭 1:58pm

jungkook: sorry about that ☹️ 1:59pm

jungkook: but hey this is all u. i bring ppl on my stream all the time nd this never happens. they jus rlly fuck with u 🤷🏻‍♂️ 2:00pm

you: i guess… 2:01pm

you: i don’t know what to do now. like what am i supposed to do? 2:01pm

jungkook: nothin u don’t wanna do. don’t stress over it 2:01pm

jungkook: jus be u 2:01pm

you: thanks kook. 2:02pm

jungkook: no problem 😉 2:02pm

you: by the way, i did miss you too. 2:05pm

you: a lot actually, it’s weird. 2:06pm

jungkook: benny says it’s normal 2:07pm

you: lmao benny’s probably right 😅 2:07pm

jungkook: my flight is gonna take off soon. i’ll text you when i get home. ❤️ 2:08pm

you: 💕 2:08pm

It’s been two long months since Jungkook left. Needless to say, you haven’t taken your mind off of the tall dreamy man since he’s popped up in your life. Partially because the two of you have been texting each other nonstop.

Despite both of your busy schedules, you always find ways to keep in touch. Texting each other constantly, facetiming when you’re both free, occasionally going live together on instagram. And the people loved it. You assumed that after a while the buzz would dwindle but the people are dying for more content.

The attention did more good than harm. You received a lot of attention from the hair you did and people have even dm’ed you to do their hair. It’s really incredible that a mere five hours has changed your life. Your family and friends are so happy for you, begging to meet the one and only Jungkook. The Jungkook who you have grown so close to over the past two months.

Everyday you feel like you’re living a dream. Never forgetting to tell Jungkook how grateful you are to him. To which he always responds with “you deserve it”.

You sit on your coach as you watch your phone in anticipation. Waiting for the ringing to stop and hear—

“Did it come?!” He says over the phone. You put on a performative show, sighing and pouting your lips. Completely disappointed. Jungkook’s enthusiastic smile falls and just as it does you whip out the thick paper, shoving it the camera.

“It cameee!” You shout and Jungkook’s face lights up. He jumps up and down in pure excitement. “Oh my god! Let me see, let me see— hold it still!”

“Geez, I’m trying my best.” He intently observed the cosmetology license that you were awarded. “I’m so proud of you, _______” He sincerely speaks and you feel your chest tighten. Jungkook recently has had that kind of effect on you. You shyly smile, lowering the certificate and putting it on your kitchen counter.

“How does it feel to be a licensed cosmetologist, ma’am?” He lowers his voice, mockingly speaking while holding his hand out like a reporter. You laugh before speaking. “It feels amazing! I would like to thank my 4 kids at home for being my inspiration, Miss Sally at the Sisters Hospital, my loving family and my dear husband who’s always stuck by my side.” You feed into the act. Something that is normal and just makes sense with you and Jungkook.

Jungkook dramatically gasps. “Husband! I didn’t read any of that before this interview. Too bad, I had set up a whole proposal for you. This was a gig! Now my heart is broken.” He holds his hand over his chest, faking a heartbreak. You pout.

“Awe, I’m so sorry. But you happen to be too late Mr. Jeon. My love for you has died many many years ago. You must move on!” Using your poor british accent makes Jungkook break character. “Your accent is horrible. Never do that shit again.” Your face falls.

“Suck cock and die.” You say and Jungkook laughs. “You’re such a whore, i’ll do all of that later. But is that it?” You furrow your eyes brows as you stand your up phone against your purse on the counter, turning around to reach in the fridge to grab the carton of strawberry lemonade. “Is what it?” You ask but Jungkook is too focused on your ass to respond. You swiftly turn back around catching him looking.

“Eyes up here, cowboy!” You shout, snapping your fingers at the camera. He raises his hands as if surrendering. “My bad. You know, men.” He shrugs, one hundred percent unashamed.

“Yeah, yeah. What were you talking about?” He falls open as he tries to remember what he was talking about before he fell into a trance. “Oh yeah!” You raise a brow.

“Was that all you got in the mail?” He asks and you furrow your brows. Confused on why he would be asking that because no one really cares about mail. “No, I got other stuff but that was the first thing I saw and then I immediately called you.” He nods quietly before carding a hand through his raven hair. It was styled much different from the first time you saw him. Perfectly layered, shaping his face with very precise curls at the ends, the back falling into a mullet. He looks amazing.

“Hello?!” He screams through the phone. You hum in shock, not realizing that you were staring at him. “I said check your mail.” You furrow your eyebrows once again. “Why do you want me to check my mail so badly?” He groans, pulling the phone close to his face. “Just check the fucking mail.”

You roll your eyes before walking over to your mail. “Don’t get shot, JK!” You scream at him from across the room and you hear a faint giggle from him coming from your phone. You walk back over to the counter, setting down a couple of packages and a few envelopes.

He makes you go through all of it in front of him. You were beginning to grow frustrated at his lack of communication and context. Not understanding why he suddenly took interest in your mail. You finally make it to one of the packages and you freeze when you read the box.

From your best friend, to you. — JK

You gasp before looking back at the man on your phone screen. The goofy smile on his face makes you wish you can jump through the screen and lather him down with hugs and kisses.

“You fart! What did you send me?!” You scream out and Jungkook tries to maintain a poker face. “Open the box.” You can’t control the huge smile on your face as you take your keys to eagerly tear the box apart.

Inside is a camera with a note on it The same camera Jungkook uses for filming. “You’re gonna need this for what’s at the bottom.” You read the note aloud. Your heart is racing so fast at the well thought out gift and you aren’t even halfway through. Underneath the camera is a shirt that reads, “I love Jungkook.”

You glare at the man through the screen and he laughs. “Awe, you do? You really mean it?” He can’t even keep a straight face, dying laughing at how unserious he is. “I’m not wearing this.” You lie. You would wear this everyday if you could remember to wash it.

“Whatever, just keep going.” You roll your eyes before diving back into the box. Underneath that is envelope. You pick up the envelope at the bottom of the box and open it. There’s a card inside and what seems to be a well written letter inside. You look at the camera. “Can I read this out loud?” Jungkook closes his eyes as he nods and you begin reading.

“Dear _______, from the very first day I met you there wasn’t a day I didn’t think of you. Our friendship is something I hold dearly to my heart and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Usually around this time of the year I’d be depressed or stressed out in my room wondering what the fuck I’m doing with my life. But you’ve kept my mind busy. Always making sure to encourage and support me when I can’t do the same for myself. You make me happy and I always try to do the same for you although I am conscience that I may fall short in that category at times. My intentions are always good.

You always thank me— saying things like, ‘I changed your life’ and that you have better going opportunities for yourself because of me. Because of that day. I always tell you that you deserve it and I truly mean it. You deserve every bit of happiness that comes your way. But what I really need to tell you is how you changed my life. Life is not what it appears to be through the screen and behind the scenes I was really struggling. You inspired me to keep pushing forward and made me realize that my goals are possible. You do that a lot. Inspire others. Whether you notice it or not or believe it. I don’t know what kind of mindset I’d have right now if it wasn’t for meeting you that day— so thank you. Now for the real surprise! A surprise I’ve been dying to get to you and I know I’m going to be going crazy until I know you’ve received this. I miss you so much and I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you do as well. Let’s change that…”

You hiccup as you finish reading the letter. Tears streaming down your brown cheeks that carries a reddened undertone. Jungkook laughs horrendously at you as you cry from the words Jungkook poured out into your letter. “I totally did not expect you to cry.” He says in between laughter, holding onto his stomach for dear life.

“I didn’t even know you could read, let alone write.” You say, joining in with the laughter as you wipe away your tears. Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Don’t make me take it all back.” He says and you shake your head. You’d never forget a word that was written in this letter. Impossible. “What do you mean let’s change that? I hope you don’t mean this phone call, this was absolute hell Jungkook.” He laughs, fluffing his hair out. “No, you devil. Flip the page.” He says and you raise your brows. You weren’t even aware that there was a second page. But when you do. You nearly throw the card because of what taped to it.

“What the fuck!” You scream and Jungkook even flinches. Covering your face as more tears fall down your eyes. Jungkook awkwardly look at you not really knowing if that was a good reaction or not.

“D— do you like it or…?” He trails off. You drop your hands from your face to check and see if he’s being for real.

“Are you kidding me?! You got me a ticket to fucking South Korea— what do you mean, ‘do you like it?’ I fucking love it!” He smiles and leave to get a tissue to blow your running nose. When you come back you find him sitting in his gaming chair.

“Thank you,” you mutter. Your voice is coarse from all of the crying and screaming. Jungkook smiles at you once he notices your back. Even after crying he still thinks you’re absolutely stunning. He can’t wait for you to be by his side in person.

“Thank me by packing a bag.”

You fan yourself at full tilt, sweat forming on your forehead, ruining your perfectly laid edges. The black baseball cap and mask that covered half of your face seems to be collecting heat for later. You roll your heavy blue luggage behind you as you exit the Incheon International Airport.

As you exit, the bright sun beams over you. Immediately, you remove the cap and mask, stuffing it inside the side poket of your purse. You look around the busy streets trying to find the familiar man. Within seconds you see him. That tall, raven haired, bubble nosed, doe eyed, breathtaking man. Who’s currently running across the street, arms up in the air, smiling from ear to ear like a lunatic.

You can’t even get your insult out before he nearly knocks the wind out of you, engulfing you into a big hug. You stumble over your feet but Jungkook makes sure to keep you upright. He picks you up in his big, strong arms, spinning you around out of pure excitement. “_______, are you real?” You laugh at him, smacking his arms to let you down.

“You ask me am I real after picking me up? That’s usually how people get the cops called on them.” You joke and he glares at you. “Yeah, you’re real.” He says, dissembling a disappointed tone before walking away and you slap his back, following him to his car.

The drive to his house from the airport is short of two hours. The two of you catch up on lost time, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Jungkook has the whole weekend planned out for the two of you. Lots of sightseeing and lots of streaming. You couldn’t help but be excited because knowing Jungkook and his energy, it’s bound to be a crazy productive time.

“Can you just tell me at least one thing? It’s just one thing— I’m sure you have tons of shit planned for today.” You whine and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I told you that we’d be streaming.”

“We were gonna do that regardless of the plans!” Jungkook looks at you once he’s made a stop at the red light. He forgets what he was going to say when he looks at how sunkissed your face is. The sun seems to be doing wonders today. Jungkook always found himself stuck on your ethereal beauty. He can’t even put in words how hypnotic you are. One glance at you made him feel like he’s somewhere over the moon, Jungkook sometimes have to remind himself that he shouldn’t feel this way. Not towards a friend. But fuck— look at the way the your skin is basking in the sunlight! He just want to take a bite out of you and—

“Would stop staring at me and drive please? The light is green.” Your brows furrow at the man who seems to be in a trance while staring at your face. Not the first time and you doubt it’ll be the last. Jungkook reluctantly eyes the road again, stepping on the gas.

“Wow, you pick random people off of the ground and have a staring problem. Do you do that with everyone or just me?” There’s a pause. The silence is loud. Only the sound of the music floods the car.

“You wanna get something to eat real quick?” He changes the subject. You let out a little snicker before saying that you aren’t hungry. The silence in the car maintains and easily shifts into a comfortable silence. You take the opportunity to observe his side profile.

Noticing so many things that you hadn’t during those few hours two months ago. Things that the facetime call hadn’t even picked up. Mindlessly, you run a hand through his hair. Playing in his soft, raven, layered curls. Collecting his hair in your grip, you hold it on the top of his hair, creating a messy ponytail. You notice the tan line on his neck.

“You have a tan?!” You shout, making the man flinch at the sudden volume change. “Yes… did you have to scream?” He glances at you briefly, eyes widened, before adverting his eyes back on the road ahead. Dropping your grip from his hair you take a moment to observe his freshly tanned skin.

“I just notice,” you hum.

“You look good.” You add, nonchalantly and you see him trying to hide the goofy smile forming on his face. You laugh. “What?! You do.” You insist and he nods his head with a downturned smile. You find it real ironic that he’s flustered after constantly being so cocky over the phone with you.

“Whatever.” He speaks lowly, scratching his eyebrow. Smiling up at him, you look at him in awe. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re not being all cocky.” You tilt your head to the side, purposely teasing the man. Stopping at yet another red light, he takes the time to smirk at you.

“If you want to suck my dick, just say that.” Your smile drops, face scrunching up in disgust.

“You make me sick.”

“Welcome!” Jungkook dramatically says, arms wide open, doing his awful impersonation of Cory Kenshin. You raise your brow as your friend continues to dance his way through the apartment, completely unimpressed.

You kick off your shoes at the entryway before stepping inside of the luxurious apartment. Jungkook does a little twirl in his black socks before ending it with a star pose. You can’t help but laugh at the obnoxious performance, shaking your head as he breathes heavily in his pose. “Esta es mi casa!” Your eyebrows furrow before sighing in defeat, walking past the man as you make your way the large island in the kitchen.

“I see your Spanish sucks just bad as your performance.” He sends you a glare before walking over to you. “Good thing I’m not here for either of those things.” You say before clapping your hands together. So,” Jungkook raises a brow as your eyes shift left to right. “Where’s your room?”

The notorious smirk returns and fluffs his hair. “Damn, you just got here and you already trying to get me in bed.” He says smugly, stepping closer to you as he looks you up and down. You would try to act all disgusted like you usually dissemble but the way he’s towering over you is making you a bit weak in the knees.

You stagger your way past him before he could come any closer. For some reason, when you two planned for you to stay in this tall, wealthy, tatted up, gym rat’s home for the weekend there was never any thoughts that this might be a problem. But now that you’re here, in an apartment alone with him. You can’t help but realize that this might be a problem.

Shaking the thought, you focus on the current problem: you can’t find his room. You enter the random door down a random hall and it leads you to the gym set up he has. Curiously, you observe the room, looking at the excessive amounts of weights and machinery.

“Found my room yet?” You jump at the sudden voice, turning around just to get towered over by the man once again. “Can you stop doing that.” You frustratedly say.

“Stop doing what?”

“Standing over me!” Your brows crease together as you look up at him. His hair hangs over his forehead as his dark eyes bore into yours. “Can’t help it if you’re short.” He battles and you scoff at the comment. “I’m not even that much shorter than you, you’re just doing it on purpose— move!” You attempt to push him away from you but he doesn’t budge. Not even a little step back. Not even an inch. Your hands placed on his chest— more so on his pecks. You can feel how firm they are. If only you could just squeeze them, just a tiny bit you—

“Having fun?” He asks, smirking down at you for what seems like the umpteenth time since you’ve landed in South Korea. Your hands are burning and so is your face. You’re absolutely right. This is gonna be a problem.

“Fuck the room, I’m gonna unpack in the kitchen.”

Eventually, Jungkook helps you bring your belongings in the room you’ll be sleeping in after you carefully folded them on the island.

His apartment is not what you had imagined at all. Sure you had seen a few glimpses of it during facetime calls but there was no full house tour. His home is very neat and capacious, everything very minimalistic. White flooring, walls, countertops, ceilings. Topped off with all black furniture throughout the whole apartment. Honestly, it’s hard to go wrong with that. Did you mention it was clean?

Jungkook gave you the overall tour of the house before the two of you settled in his (much anticipated) room to start streaming. The stream was fun to say the least. Highly energetic, as expected from the popular spunky streamer. You answered a lot of questions and played a few games.

What wasn’t expected was all of the comments shipping you and Jungkook together.

Tons of comments flooded in— all types of ship names and theories of your relationship. ‘An alleged friendship’, they called it. You were too flustered to even respond to them so Jungkook would entertain it by constantly teasing you. Jungkook ended the stream with his usual outro. Of course not without letting the viewers know that you’ll be back to streaming in a few hours. Attending to all of the things Jungkook has planned for you two to do today.

You sit on the gaming chair next to Jungkook, leg bouncing up and down. Something that started out as a question has led to a small argument. Over something so ineffable, you can’t even explain it to yourself without getting conflicted.

“How are you not seeing this from my point of view?” You question (hypocritically), growing frustrated with your friend who is more confused than anything. Because why does it matter if his fans think you two are dating?

“I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now. It’s not a big deal, _______.” He reaches out to grab your hands in attempt to calm you down, but you quickly pull back. He sighs in defeat. Leaning back in his chair.

“It is though.” You say with less agitation, fiddling with the ends of your braids that rests on your lap, quickly growing tired of the back and forth.

“Enlighten me.” Jungkook perks up, leaning forward in his chair. The whole situation has you flustered and now you regret even saying anything to the man who is now too close for comfort. “Because,” you advert your eyes away from him, looking at the streaming monitor. “You entertaining it will make them start thinking that we’re actually dating and we’re not.” You explain, face as stoic as you can manage. You hear a shift in his movement before turning to look at him again. His arms crossed over his chest.

“Would that be so bad?” He says, seemingly a little offended. You furrow your brows in confusion, not sure what he’s getting at. “Would what be so bad?”

“Dating me,” he emphasizes and you can literally feel your heart sink. Feeling as if you’ve just dropped ninety degrees on a deadly roller coaster. “You’ve been talking as if I’m the fucking plague or something. Why is it so bad that people think we’re dating _______, hm?” He tilts his head after his interrogation. You remain silent. Scared you might say something stupid if you talk.

“Am I not attractive to you? Or, you think I’m frontin’ for my streams—”

“What are you trying to get at here?!” You shake your head in confusion. The roles have quickly changed. Now Jungkook is the one frustrated and you can’t be anymore lost than what you are right now.

“Nothing, obviously!” He stands up, walking over to the large windows in his room. His back facing you as he interests himself with the view outside. You hesitantly approach him, standing not too far behind him as you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s none of that. That’s not—” You pause and his shoulders rises then falls before he turns around to face you. “Can you ever see yourself being in a relationship with me?” He rips the bandage off, tired of beating around the bush.

The question sends a funny little twirl to your tummy. It’s not your first time hearing the familiar question. Having heard it from a few friends several times every time you mentioned the name of your distant friend.

Hearing the same question— out of Jungkook’s mouth now, is totally different. It indicates that he himself has thought about it. What it’d be like if the two of you were together. But the same response stands. “We— you know— I haven’t really… thought about it.” You stammer over your words. Feeling slightly intimidated under his gaze.

“I mean, I do find you attractive— I have eyes for god’s sake. I enjoy talking to you and… all that good stuff.” Jungkook watches you as you sort through your thoughts. His eyes flickering back and forth between yours and your plump lips. “I’m not really in touch with my emotions, like I can be really oblivious at times.” You speak lowly, standing confounded by this whole interaction.

There’s never been a moment in time where you found yourself falling victim to a guy. Not loosing your virginity until your college days— even those encounters were filled with nothing other than pure lust. While everyone else was busy having crushes and dating, you focused on your future. You however aren’t oblivious to the fact that your body reacts differently while around your so called friend. But you never thought anything of it really— the man is hot! Anyone who has a beating pulse could say that much. Figuring that the tall dreamy man is simply just too hot to handle, you brush it off. Now as you stand helplessly, spotlight on you, you try to remember those feelings and what they could mean.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is stuck. Again. He can’t even help it and he doesn’t try to fight it anymore.

You’re gorgeous— and he has no clue as to what you just said even though his eyes never leave your tempting lips. You notice how the silence floods the room, creating an intense tension between the two of you. As mentioned before, oblivion fills you and before you can say anything to break the silence, Jungkook beats you to it.

“I’m about to do something and if you want me to stop, I give you all permission to slap me.” His words are rushed and he doesn’t give you the time to speak, scared of what might fall out of your mouth. His hands gently take hold of your face before his lips meet yours.

Kissing you. Jungkook is kissing you. You process the sudden action rather slowly. His soft lips move against yours as you hear the boisterous sound of your heart drumming in your ears.

Wait… Jungkook is kissing you?

Said man is left with a stinging pain to his cheek, his hand abruptly lifting to hold the reddened flesh. His eyes widen as he comes to terms with the fact you just slapped him. Well, he did say you could. He honestly just didn’t think you would act on it. You whisper out a small “sorry”, feeling horrible for hitting him despite the authorized permission he gave you and Jungkook is unable to look you in your eyes, mood gone pensive.

He figures he’s gotten his answer but stands corrected once you wrap your arms around his neck, feverishly placing your lips on his. There was a feeling of absence— emptiness after you not so lightly smacked him away. Now that your lips are interlaced with his again and that rapid sound of your heartbeat is drumming in your ears again, your fingers scavenging through the curly mullet. You think you understand. Understand that you might be a bit smitten with the highly energetic streamer. Highly energetic and talented with his mouth, you must say. His hands travels to your waist, the crop top your sporting allowing him feel the smooth of your skin under his touch.

“Wait.” He murmurs against your lips before pulling away. Heavy breathing fills the bed room. You look at him with much desperation in your eyes. Desperate for the sweet taste of his lips curled around yours. He prays for the good lord to give him strength. Sighing, he manages to find his self control. “I really do like you _______ and as much as I enjoy kissing you, I need to know your intentions.” He says, fingers tracing shapes on your waist.

“I— I think I like you too.” You respond, sounding more like a question than an answer. However, that’s not good enough for Jungkook. He needs to know that you like him and you want him— it doesn’t matter if it’s to the same extent that it is for him. Just something to let him know that you’re invested in him because he’s damn sure invested in all of you.

“Okay, I’m not gonna break this down into simple terms because you’re not thirteen but—”

“Good because you’d be considered a pedophile if I were.” You tilt your head sarcastically and he shakes his head refusing to even respond to that comment. “If I were to go out tonight and find a woman— and hook up with her,” he emphasizes the last part. “Would you be mad— or feel any type of way?”

With no delay, you flick a brow and slightly cock your head back. Utterly offended. “Why the hell would you go and do that?” The response is so bitter, you almost question whether or not it came out or your mouth. Jungkook’s face of anticipation is sent flying and a huge toothy smile is etched across his face, gushing with relief. “Okay,” he whispers. You close your eyes, shaking your head.

“Okay?” You ask and he nods, the bunny toothed smile shines on. You beckon him to further explain his thoughts and is ultimately caught off guard when he grabs your arms instead. Wrapping them around his neck before lifting you off the ground, his hands grasping the back of your thighs.

“What are you doing?” You gasp out, heart pounding rapidly as you feel a spark run through your veins. So abnormal, you never felt anything like this before. You haven’t even been in this man’s presence a full 24 hours yet and somehow the problem you were previously worried about, doesn’t appear all that consequential. Not when the solution has been presented.

“I’ve waited so long just to hold you in my arms. And now that my confession that I had planned for today is completely ruined—”

“You were going to confess?” You spew out, interjecting his words for the umpteenth time today. “Why you’re full of questions, aren’t you?” He teases before placing a soft kiss onto your cheek. Traveling with you in his arms, you close your eyes while he places slow, tender kisses against your neck. Gently placing you on the cool, welcoming bed. Your body sinks into the resilient foam, feeling snug and warmth when Jungkook’s large frame slightly hovers over you.

“It didn’t take me long to realize that I have feelings for you. Now, I don’t know how that cute little mind of yours work.” He slightly snickers when you cutely purse your lips, tucking a lone braid behind your ear. Looking at you with much adulation in his eyes, you can’t help but cotton into. “But I do know that I will do everything I can for you to feel at least half the amount happiness you give me.”

Reaching your hands out, your thumbs caress his cheeks, brushing over the faint scar. Jungkook shivers under your feathery touch. “I do.” Your thumb slowly travels down to his swollen lips. Fiddling with the silver lip ring that decorates the bottom of the pair. “You make me happy. I’ve never felt this way before.” Jungkook leans down, his knee sinking down further into the bed, to capture your lips again.

Your hands’ fervently roaming the other’s body. Jungkook shutters at the feeling of your hands on his body when they travel their way under his white crew neck. The taste of your coconut flavored chapstick making him dizzy. His lips leave yours, going to strip away his shirt. Exposing his toned muscles and sleeve of tattoos that you’ve yet to fully appreciate and admire.

You let out a shaky breath underneath the lusty muscular man. “You’re not really gonna hook up with someone else right?” You thoughtlessly ask. There’s no way he’s going to present this to any other woman. Not after this. Not when you’re ready to bow down to kiss his feet and willingly fold yourself like a pretzel for him.

The buff man nearly chokes on his laughter. “No, _______” That ethereal smile beams back at you. He leans down to place another kiss on your plumped lips. “I only want you… only you.” He confesses, followed with open mouthed kisses against your neck. Your eyes fall close. Jungkook’s hands make their way under your crop top, cupping your rounded breast through the thin layer of your bra.

You wince at the pressure put on your sensitive nipples. He trails kiss down your neck to your chest, slowly lifting your shirt and you help him, breaking the kiss for no more than a couple of seconds to pull the clothing over your head.

The two of you are like two horny teenagers, desperately going at it. You’ve never been one to crave sex— it’s enjoyable, sure. But you can also go long ways without having any sexual interactions. You can and you have.

However, with Jungkook, you need him. You crave him. Suddenly, after all those dickless years you can no longer stand strong. At least not under him. The deprivation of his touch is killing you even though he’s right above you passionately caressing and kissing all over your body. It’s not enough. If there was a way to be in his skin, you’d most certainly figure it out and act on it effective immediately.

You waste no time, eagerly snatching all of your clothes off, the clothing being discarded every which way across his spacious bedroom. You let out needy whimpers as Jungkook glides his dick up and down your wet folds, his long length laying flat, mushroom tip repeatedly brushing pass your clit, stimulating you further.

“You’re so wet baby.” Jungkook grunts relishing in the way his dick slides so easily across your slippery cunt. “Stretch me out, Kook.” You breathlessly say, clenching your tight pussy around nothing, feeling the need of his length to fill you up.

“I should prep you first. I don’t want to hurt you.” Showing uncertainty behind his soft words that makes your stomach shake. You’ve never been one for masochism, but ironically enough, the thought of Jungkook tearing your pussy up, stretching your tight cunt makes you even more aroused, if even possible. You let a low moan out at the idea and Jungkook’s dick twitches.

“No please— just fuck me. Need you now.” There’s no delay, Jungkook is more than delighted to fulfill your desires. He strokes his girthy length, slick from your loads of arousal before dipping his dick slowly into your opening. A load grunt leaves Jungkook’s mouth once the mere tip of his dick slips in. He can already feel the pressure of your tight cunt around him.

Your cunt engulfs his member as it slowly disappears in the depths of your core. Covering your mouth with your hand to diminish the sound of your loud lewd moans. Once his dick is fully inside, he lowers himself to plant a kiss your lips. Light and feathery and full of care. “Are you okay?” He asks, still feeling a bit perturbed. His eyes laced with concern.

You weakly smile at him, initiating another kiss. “I’m all good.” You say, which instantly satisfies the buff man. He quickly pecks your lips before lifting up again. His hands caress your thighs as he gently separates them.

Conjoined moans feel the room as Jungkook slowly stretches you out. His thick, long dick penetrating into your cunt. The sounds being released out of your mouths’ and the squelching sound of your juices lapping around Jungkook’s dick is music to your ears. After a hand full of thrusts you beckon Jungkook to go faster. Jungkook, being the obedient man he is, thrashes into your cunt. His pace quickens all while deeply infiltrating your leaking cunt.

Your arousal creating a large wet spot on the silk black comforter, lathering the inside of your thighs. “Fuck, you feel so good around my dick— mm. So tight and wet, so fucking beautiful.” He lowly curses before grabbing onto your hand. Your body jerks forward as Jungkook continues to fuck into you. He bite his lip, trying to stay strong and not cum right away. But the way the warmth of your pussy is hugging his length, it’s not so easy.

“K— Kook, shit right there.” You grab onto your boob with your free hand for moral support because you feel like you’re going insane. Your pussy clenches around his dick sending him groaning. “I’m gonna cum, fuhh!” Jungkook hastily nods his head before letting go of your hand, going to rub his thumb against your slippery clit. Your back arches against the bed as he fucks into you so good, overstimulated from the amounts of pleasure.

“Cum on my dick, _______.” Jungkook grabs your waist, pounding into your pussy harder. Which is followed by a trail of incoherent whimpering and whining. You let out a loud scream as you release your load around Jungkook’s length.

The sounds of your pussy squelching around Jungkook’s dick as he rides out your high grows louder and soon he’s due for his own release.

“Fuck!” Quickly sliding out of your cunt, he strokes his length in haste before loads of thick white semen drags out onto your stomach.

Heavy breathing crowds the room as you try to recuperate from the previous event. Jungkook gets up from his bed without a word, leaving the room. After a little over a minute, he returns with a towel and a pack of baby wipes in hand. Coming to clean you up. It’s impossible to hide your growing smile whilst Jungkook silently and intently cleans you up.

“After care goes crazy.” You jokingly comment and Jungkook tries to remain stoic but fails miserably when he ends up laughing. “You can’t take anything serious, can you?” He shakes his head, smile still holding up.

“I take you seriously.” You lowly speak. Jungkook shoots you a smile before going to recover your clothes off the floor, throwing the towel in the garbage. He slips his boxer briefs back on and tosses his shirt to you, wanting you to wear it and you do. The room is silent. A little too quiet for comfort and you don’t want to grow accustomed to the silence so you grab Jungkook’s wrist to stop him from cleaning.

“Sit down.” You say softly, but the tone is simply a facade. Jungkook is well aware that you’re demanding attention so he cooperates. “I want this.” Simply put, but very self explanatory. Jungkook lets out a sigh, staring into your eyes intently. “I wonder what could’ve possibly changed your mind.” He sarcastically speaks, reflecting on the irony of the situation. Your hands wrap around his neck, fiddling with the hair on the nape of his neck, tempted to pull him into another longing kiss.

But you don’t. You don’t need Jungkook thinking you’re only saying this because your dick crazed. Despite your emotional awakening happening prior to having sex with Jungkook, you know that there’s something else there in your heart. Your interest and liking for Jungkook resides outside of sexual attraction and interactions. His meek attitude and sexy figure is just the cherry on top. There’s a connection between you two that makes you inexplicably happy— a sense of security.

“I’m new to this whole relationship process— never been in one my entire life. Everyone speaks of finding the perfect person, their person. And if it’s anything like how people have explained… I think it’s you.” He watches as you stare lovingly into his bambi eyes.

“It’s me?” He whispers, his breath lightly nuzzling your lips that are just inches away from his. You hum, face etched in mischief.

“What is that you said to me? Wha— would you be mad if I hooked…”

“Up with another woman, yes I did say that.” He finishes, lowering his head to hide the growing smile. “And if I recall correctly,” you dipping your head as Jungkook dodges teasing looks. “When I asked you if you’d actually do that, you said no.” You catch his face in your palms forcing him to look at you. The bulbs of his face are bright red and his dimples are deeply inscribed in his risen cheeks.

“Only you.” Repeating the words he vowed to you earlier. You nod your head, uncontrollably squeezing his cheeks in your hands. “Okay well the same goes for me.” Quickly placing a kiss on his forehead before speaking again. “Only you. You have my word.” Jungkook shyly nods, refusing to look you in the eyes still. You giggle at his oddly shy behavior, cracking out and amused “what”.

“Kissing me on my forehead and shit— feels domestic as fuck.” You release a loud laugh in his face to which Jungkook joins in, unable to control himself, your laugh being contagious to the man. Pinning Jungkook on the bed, you smother his face with kisses.

The scene is something you yourself would often cringe at when witnessing other couples. Hypocritically, you bask in the laughter that escapes yours and Jungkook’s mouth. Revel in the way Jungkook’s strong hands grab at your waste when your lips curls around his. This is something you can get used to. You never want to stop feeling this way ever. And you have a feeling that as long as Jungkook is by your side, you’ll feel this way for a very long time.

On top of the world.

“We’re behind schedule.” Jungkook mutters against your lips and you strain your neck to peek at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed. You are in fact behind schedule. “Benny will be here any minute now.” He says, grabbing your arm so he can roll from underneath your hold. Leaving the room to put his clothes on and use the restroom.

You also get up to put your clothes back on, fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror. When Jungkook returns he sneaks behind you and circles his arms around his waist, his chin atop of your head. His tatted hand traveling just under your breast. “You’re so gorgeous, _______.” He whispers softly. You hum with your eyes closed as Jungkook pushes his clothed crotch against your ass. His mouth latching onto your neck, being sure not to leave any marks. “Kook,” you say once you feel his hand dip underneath your shirt, going to cup your tit.

“Hmm?” He continues to grind his growing bulge against your thick ass. You tightly squeeze your thighs together, feeling the familiar sudden sensation between your legs. “No, we have to go.” You shake out of his hold, turning around to see the faint pout on his lips. But soon reluctantly agrees.

“Benny’s outside.” You say, looking out the window as Jungkook hurriedly grabs everything he needs. He jogs over to you with a bright smile on his face. Pecking your lips which takes you by surprise. “Got everything.” You nod your head and the two of you stalk down the stairs. Jungkook smacks your ass before you open the door, gasping, you turn around with a warning glare. He smirks down at you.

“You better behave once we HOP ON THE STREAM.”

JOIN THE TAGLIST

𝒿𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒸ℴ𝒸𝓀𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𓁙

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#who(re) you 🍂#jiminscockr1ng #˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚#bts smut #bts fanfic #kpop smut #bts x black reader #black reader #bts x reader #jungkook x black reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

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konigsblog · 2 months

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cw: kidnapping, non-con elements.🩸

sigh, all i'm thinking about is kidnapper-könig live streaming his assault on you. :(

it's not always him pinning you down and having his way with you, sometimes he'll keep the camera live recording you in your little dog cage, watching you sob pathetically and miserably, looking into the camera with glossy eyes and a frown.

he'll record him spoonfeeding you too - forcing you to sit obediently on his large lap, whilst your wrists and ankles are tied with rope, pushing the spoon into your mouth and slapping you when you begin rejecting his home cooked food through depression.

he loves getting your hopes up, allowing you to wander around the house curiously with the door cracked a little bit open, before dragging you back down by the collar around your neck, shaming you for thinking about leaving and escaping his ‘love’...

kidnapper-könig rants about his infatuation with you to krueger, telling him about your misbehaviour, and the reason you're forced to act like a dog and clean his boots on all fours. perhaps he'll allow krueger to have some fun with you, showing off all the skills you've learnt from being with könig; dragging your tongue up and down his shaft and sucking on his heavy balls.

#random thots™️#can't sleep... he's plaguing my mind 🙁💤💤#feel free to tell me your thots™️ in the reblogs & comments (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧#orla speaks #könig x reader #könig x you #konig smut #konig x reader #tw kidnapping #tw noncon

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punching-pentagrams · 2 months

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Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 7

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, cuddles, depression, anxiety, Sexual fantasizing, insecurity

Lucifer's eyes started to flutter open the next morning, a beam of light streaming in through the living room window. Wow, had he actually gotten a full uninterrupted night's rest again? What a pleasant surprise. He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling if his living room. Wait... his living room? Was he still on the couch? He was used to you bringing him back to his bed after he fell asleep, what hap-

Lucifer's thought process completing froze as he became aware of the weight holding his body down to the couch, specifically, the weight of your beautiful body, that still laid on him, sound asleep. Lucifer felt his cheeks burn a bright red. 'Oh my god, she feel asleep on me last night?! This is amazing, this is also terrible. Will she get mad? Will her boss get mad at her? Should I wake her up?' God he didn't want to have to wake you up. The sight of you curled up on him with your head on his chest was breathtaking. Shit... he really had fallen for you, hadn't he?

Lucifer had no idea what to do, he many ideas of what he wanted to do, but not what he should do. He could run his fingers through your hair, kiss your forehead, rub your back, any of those things could have encouraged you awake. But instead, he just sleepily watched you dreaming on his chest, until you eventually started to wake up.

After a little while, your eyes began to open. You too had experienced an amazing night of sleep that you were not used to. Perhaps all that crying gelling did you some good. But something felt off, where were you? You looked up to see Lucifer's smiling face, "Hehe, uhh... good morning, I guess."

Oh my god, had you cried yourself to sleep in his arms?! Lucifer cocooned you again in his wings before you could panic.

"Shit! Lucifer I'm so-"

"Shhhh shh shhh shh," Lucifer stopped you, "No apologizes, please. Yesterday was... hard, seemed like we both needed sleep, and frankly, I slept great. What about you?"

You blushed, and laid you head back on his chest while still looking up at him, mumbling, "Well, I guess that's the best I've slept... in a long time..." It was the best you had slept since you had arrived in hell.

"Excellent! So, lets just call it a happy accident, that we figured something out from. Also..." God he was trying to be a little bold and it made him nervous, "Would you be willing to try this again... but intentionally next time?"

"Like... have me stay through the night? And... sleep with you in your bed?" You asked.

"Yes..." he asked with a little more hesitance in his voice. You chuckled, look at him go, asking for what he wants, and so nicely too.

You smiled and shrugged, "Works for me, just let the boss know."

"Right..." he said, he was starting to hate the reminders that you weren't just here because you wanted to be. He wasn't upset at you, it just left him with a pang of insecurity, a curiously if you would even put up with him if it weren't for the fact that he hired you to be here.

He cleared his throat, trying to refocus. "You won't... get into any trouble for this, right?"

You waved your hand, "Naw, I'll just tell him I was out late partying. After what happened yesterday, he wouldn't bat an eye."

"Ok, how are you feeling, by the way?" he asked, looking over your face.

"Much better... Thank you... for... well everything..." you smiled nervously. You still felt guilty that Lucifer had to spend his paid time with you dealing with the aftermath of other client sessions, you were normally better than that. He seemed like he wanted to be there for you, but you had no idea why he would even want to. It felt so good, but you still could not tell how real or how deep the care actually ran. If this continued, the guilt and confusion might become overwhelming.

"It was my pleasure," he said, grabbing you hand and kissing it while staring deeply into your eyes.

Ugh, why did this have to be so hard to figure out!

After that, the two of you begrudgingly got up, and got ready for the day. Lucifer teleported you back to your room, bit you farewell, and left. Both of you back in your own spaces, alone, already missing the other.

______________________________________________________________

The next night you two had together, you and Lucifer would change the end of night routine as had been discussed, ending up with you both falling asleep in each others arms, and getting the joy of waking up to seeing each other first thing in the morning. It was beyond bliss. You didn't know it, but you two were in a secret competition to see who could wake up first, and get the privilege of watching the other as they clung onto their last few minutes of sleep before they would wake up.

The mornings that Lucifer woke up before you were both beautiful and painful for him. He loved getting to stare at your beautiful face, sure, but the urges... oh the urges to run his fingers through your hair, the urges to lace his fingers with yours, the urges to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, your neck, your... everything... the urges to let his hands explore your body, to sneak his hands under your clothing, to find the sensitive places on your skin that would make your breathe hitch, make the fire grow in your eyes, make you want to touch him the same way... the pain of all of these urges pulled at his mind, every morning, every day.

Some of them he could get away with more once you were awake, fingers through your hair, kisses on your hands, but he wanted more. Beyond that, he wanted them to mean something. He knew that he could just ask you for kisses or sex, and you would say yes, but he didn't want that, he wanted it to be real, he wanted passion, he wanted to make love to you. Every day with you made those feelings grow stronger and more unbearable.

Luckily, at least for another couple weeks, Lucifer would still be distracted by the upcoming extermination, and he figured that it was best that he focused on one life altering event at a time. You and Lucifer would spend more of your evenings hanging out with Charlie and the others at the hotel. Alastor had helped Charlie recruit many of the people of Cannibal Town to help, much to Lucifer's chagrin, and Vaggie had also gotten some intel on angels being able to be killed with angelic weapons, and was able to get resources from Carmilla Carmine, another Overlord and the only Angelic Weapon-Arms Dealer in hell.

Lucifer did not like learning that angels could be killed for a number of reasons, but he tried not to focus on that right then. Right now, he cared about being there for Charlie, and enjoying the calm before the storm.

The night before the extermination, most of the hotel crew, honestly, seemed like they were in good spirits. Alastor was even behaving and not doing everything in his power to piss of Lucifer, just some minor loitering on the edge of his conversations around the hotel. Angel and Husk were hanging out at the bar, and Angel's best friend, Cherri Bomb, had also come to hang out to join the fight. You noticed that Angel and Husk had increasingly been giving each other cute looks, and that Sir Pentious was nervous when it came to any interaction involving Cherri.

What you didn't know, was that Angel, Husk, and Cherri had also been watching the way you and Lucifer interacted over the last couple of weeks, the way you too looked at each other, the way his touch would linger, or that any hug would last a littleeee too long for a hug between just friends. Whenever you were not at the hotel, those three would come up with theories on what was going on with you two.

At some point, you ended up in a conversation with those three, chatting it up, and eventually Angel was the one that finally brought it up.

"Alright, babe. So...spill it. What exactly is goin' on between you an' da Boss Man, hmm?" Angel said, leaning his hand on one of his hands with a cocked eyebrow. You were startled by the question. Shit.

"Uhhh... w-what do you mean?" you say sheepishly, messing with your hair.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talkin' about~" Angel replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"I-uhhh..." you started.

"Come on, (y/n), cut the crap," Husk chimed in, cleaning a cup. "Ya!" Added Cherri, "We can all tell you two are seriously vibin' with one anotha," she said in her spunky Australian accent.

'Shit, had these three really been that curious about my relationship with Lucifer? Was it that obvious? I have been just trying to follow his lead on things when we visited.'

"I mean... we are just really close, and comfortable with each other... that's all," you say, not trying to look at them directly.

"But how close are you too exactly?" asked Husk. "Yaaaa, like bedroom close~?" Angel pushed in his flirty voice, talking a little louder.

You quickly covered Angel's mouth with your hands, looking around, no one else had seemed to hear him. Lucifer was across the room, chatting with Charlie and Vaggie, and Alastor seemed more focused on listening in on their conversation than yours. You look back to see Husk and Cherri with satisfied looks on their faces, along with a twinkling mischief in Angel's eyes.

You sigh and remove your hands, "Look, guys, I really want to talk about the details around my dynamic with Lucifer, but... I really can't... I'm not allowed. Even saying that might be too much..."

The trios' faces became more concerned. "Wait... he doesn't... own your soul, does he?" Husk asked.

"Oh! No, no, nothing like that. And he has been nothing but kind to me. It's just... not something I can talk about... no matter how much I may want to..." you say, holding yourself and looking down sadly. The other two looked to Husk, Husk looked sadly back at them, he could tell this was not a bluff, you were telling the truth.

Lucifer glanced across the room at you, and was surprised to see your body language had suddenly changed from how it had been during the rest of your conversation with the others at the bar. Your body language looked more sad to him. Lucifer briefly excused himself from his conversation with Charlie and Vaggie, saying he would be right back, and made his way over to you.

Cherri, Lucifer, and Husk saw Lucifer approaching, and he giving off a protective look of 'what did you do?' before putting a hand on your back.

"Darling? Is everything ok?" Lucifer said, his face softening as he looked down at you.

Your head spang up at his sudden contact and sound of his voice, 'Crap, did he hear any of that?'

You looked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ya... sorry, we were talking about Adam and the battle tomorrow... just made me think about how worried I have been for you all..." you say sadly. The other three relax once they realized you were covering for them, Husk almost didn't like how good you were at pulling out a story like that, but right now he cared more about not pissing off the King.

Lucifer sighed and ran his finger through your hair, before pulling you in for a comforting hug, "I know... we are gonna get through this." He looked over at the other three over your shoulder, smiling, "Together."

The others smiled back at Lucifer and he released you from the hug before asking if you felt like we needed to leave for the evening. You shook your head, telling him you wanted to stay longer. He nodded, and then walked back to his conversation with Charlie and Vaggie.

"Well, one thing is for sure," Husk said looking after Lucifer, "That man cares a lot about you."

You blushed, you hoped so, you hoped and prayed that was true. But because of the structure, no matter what he said or did, you always had some level of doubt hanging in the back of your thoughts. You wish you didn't have to second guess every interaction. You wish you knew how an actually health dynamic looked like so that you had something to compare to. Most of all, you wished you didn't have to be scheduled and paid in order to see him. Would he even want to see you outside of the time he pays for you?

"How do you know?" you asked Husk. Husk gave you a soft smile, "No man spends as much time as he does constantly checking in on you if he does not care."

You cock an eyebrow, "But, he doesn't constantly check on me."

"Maybe from you're perspective," Angel chimed, "That mothafucka is constantly lookin' over at you, why do ya think he was over here so fast as soon as you started pullin' into ya'self. Which, thanks for da save by da way. I am not ready ta get on his bad side."

You looked over your shoulder at here at Lucifer, a moment later, he looked at you, smiled, and waved. You waved back, and looked back to the others.

"See? Man's totally whipped," said Cherri. Doubted that, Lucifer having feeling for someone like you? Ya right. But you could see how they would think that way without knowing the truth behind your relationship, and they made a fair point, he did care to some degree. You couldn't keep the blush from tinting your cheeks. I mean I guess he did send a man to be tortured for all eternity for hurting you, that has to mean something... No matter how small.

Before long, it was time to go. You hugged everyone goodbye that wanted hugs. While hugging Charlie you said, "Kick his ass honey, I'd really hate to lose a good housing option." Charlie beamed and hugged you even tighter, to the point where it almost hurt, "We will! We'll get you set up right after we kill all of the angels or kick their asses back up to Heaven!"

You laughed, said goodbye, and you and Lucifer departed back to his place. Little did you know, that would be your last time inside of that hotel.

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Sleep had not come easily for both of you that night, but it did all the same. Your time at Lucifer's did not end the following morning, Lucifer had booked out the rest of your day, he did not want to risk you getting caught if an exterminator if the angels were successful at wiping out everyone at the hotel and started going after the rest of the sinners. He knew the exorcists would not go anywhere near his house, Here, at least, he knew that you would be safe.

You wanted to help, but you knew you weren't a fighter, and giving Lucifer some peace so that he could fight when it came down to it was more important. Lucifer already had his hands tied in this situation. He had been the one to originally allow the exterminations to happen in Hell, mostly because he had no clue what else to do and he had been backed into a corner in that initial discussion with Heaven.

There was one rule however, that if broken, would allow him to fight, that rule being that hellborns were not allowed to be harmed. Funny, that a rule that he originally set in place to protect Charlie was now the rule that he hoped would get broken in order for him for be able to fight, and the only hellborn in this fight was Charlie, well, and Razzle and Dazzle too. Lucifer had created them as guardians to protect Charlie, and creations fell into a weird catagory. But an attack on them normally meant an attempted attack on her. He had to gamble that one of them would get hurt, but not so hurt that Charlie would be erased. It was a very uncomfortable situation, but nothing about this whole situation was anyway.

The two best case scenarios were that they could take out everyone, including Adam, without hurting Charlie, so Lucifer would never be needed, or for Charlie/her guardian's to get lightly hurt, so that Lucifer could jump in. Once he was able to jump in, the battle would basically be over. You didn't know much about how powerful Adam was, you had only seen small bits of Alastor and Lucifer's power, and nothing of Charlie's ability to fight him off. You had no idea how this was going to play out.

Lucifer however, knew how powerful Adam was, as well as his and Charlie's power, and he had a small idea of Alastor's power based on how he had defended the hotel a month ago. Lucifer didn't think that Alastor was going to be able to take out Adam completely, but he thought he would be able to most like put up a good fight, delay him, maybe get a few good hits in. If Charlie was as much of a fighter at Lucifer was, he wouldn't be as worried, but she was a gentle soul and didn't utilize her powers a lot. It was gonna be hard to tell how this was going to go.

Lucifer sat on the couch, tense, holding your hand, wings already out, waiting for the signal, waiting for the energy between him and Charlie to activate that would inform him that Charlie or her guardians had been hit. Before long, the sensation of a sting of shared pain ran through his body. He quickly kissed you on the forehead, said "See you on the other side," and jumped through a portal out to the battlefield.

You were now alone with your own fear.

You went to the window to see if you could see the hotel from his manor, but you barely couldn't. All you could do was pace around the house, waiting for Lucifer to return. You thought about turning on the tv or radio to listen for any news, maybe looking for a livestream on your phone, but no, all of that would have just made it worse. So you paced, until you decided to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling, trying hard just to breathe.

Until... a portal opened up. You sat up, looking at the portal, through the swirling red magic, you saw a familiar black claw reach out to you. You smiled, as the image continued to clear up, and you could see Lucifer, next to Charlie, and Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Cherri, Niffty... all covering in golden blood, except for Lucifer who looked exactly the same as when he left.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you jumped through the portal into the arms of your friends. You all hug in a group before Lucifer picked you up and spun you around. After the laughter and smiles you looked around, something was missing, something big. It was quiet.

"Where are Alastor and Pentious? And... oh my god! The hotel!" you said realizing that it was not only some friends that were missing, but that the group was literally standing on the rocky remains of the Hazbin Hotel.

Charlie rubbed her arm, "Pentious... Pentious scarified himself for us... Adam killed him... he's... he's gone. And, umm... we aren't entirely sure what happened to Alastor either... He was fighting Adam, and the next thing we knew, Adam was out fighting the rest of us. We haven't seen him since. And... ya... Adam took out the hotel."

"And I took out the Bad Angel Man!" Niffy said, proudly holding up her little dagger, both her at it covered in bright golden blood.

You and the others laughed at Niffy's excitement, but your heart broke for your friends, you hadn't really gotten to know Sir Pentious very much, but your knew he had meant a lot to the hotel crew. You hoped that Alastor had found a way to slip out or something, he was... a unique individual... but he was also an important piece to the hotel. And the hotel...

Lucifer grabbed your hand, "The hotel, however, we can fix." He said with a smile, "Wanna help us build a hotel?"

You smiled, finally something you were able to do to help.

"Lets do this!"

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the whole crew building up a new Hazbin Hotel, one that was even bigger and better than the previous one. You had no idea that it was possible to set up a new building in an afternoon, but with Lucifer's extraordinary magic and an amazing team, the shining new doors of the hotel were gleaming and open again.

Lucifer could not stop smiling the whole rest of the afternoon, to have a purpose behind his creativity and powers of creation, to have a community again that liked him, to have his daughter back and getting to support her dreams, and to have you, you who made all this happiness fall into place again. Getting to beat the shit out of Adam had also been quite enjoyable.

He looked down at the wedding ring that was still on his left hand, after wearing it for so long, he had forgotten that it wasn't just a part of him, it was his reminder of Lilith. He would still always have love and care for Lilith, but the time of her had come to an end, and you were his new horizon. He wasn't ready to take off the ring just yet, he didn't want to tip anyone off, but god did he just want to toss of the ring, swoop down from the sky, scoop you up, kiss you, and tell you how much he loved you in front of all of hell, but this wasn't the time. This day was about Charlie and her dream. Plus... he was still really fucking nervous and didn't know how to say it to you.

Eventually, Alastor manifested himself back from the shadows and re-joined the group, Lucifer and Husk were... less than thrilled, but everyone else was happy, including you. The group celebrated at their new beautiful hotel together late into the night.

Eventually, you and Lucifer split off for the night to celebrate the rest of the night together snuggling in each other's arms. You fell asleep first that night, and Lucifer spent his last few minutes awake looking at your beautiful face in the darkness or his room, daydreaming about the best way to tell you how he felt.

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Don't get too comfortable! I've got one more twist in store for these two :) xoxo, dany As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop!

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