friends to lovers never had a bad track. “scared i’ll ruin what we have” SLAPS. “friendship cuddles while secretly dying inside” BANGER. “teasing each other and holding eye contact for a little too long” KILLS ME. and don’t even get me STARTED on “screaming i love you in the middle of a heated argument.”

white lies | jjk | m

— summary; in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 

— contents and warnings; smut, fluff, very minor angst, poor attempts at humor, athlete!jungkook x reader, childhood best friends, fake dating, idiots to lovers, far too many movie references, a tiny bit of jealousy, jk is a football/soccer player, mentions of alcohol and drugs, the catastrophic event that is a frat party, jk is kind of a himbo, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, a lot of touching, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, jk has a big dick, praise, body worship if you squint, unprotected sex (don’t.), pulling out, very mild possessiveness, mid-sex confessions, the L word…, Jungkook wants to fuck you in his team jacket because his tastes are very singular and you wouldn’t understand it 

— words; 13,3k

— author’s notes; I know what you’re thinking… and yes, every bad movie mentioned is real. Also, this is a self-aware cliche and 100% self indulgent. Have fun!

When people first found out that you and Jungkook were friends, you received a very predictable, repetitive sequence of reactions.

First came disbelief. It was the most comprehensible one, at least from your perspective, taking into consideration that you and Jungkook were completely different people. He was loud (sometimes too loud) and outgoing, probably knew at least ninety percent of the campus population by name and city of origin. Jungkook was warm, friendly, the type of guy that you’d confess all your worries to if given enough time. You, on the other hand, was more on the “colder” side — you weren’t as inviting with strangers, and didn't mind going through moments of awkward silence. Jungkook was a talker and you were a listener; he was a daydreamer and you were a brute realist: maybe that was why your friendship worked so well. But most people couldn’t really get it. 

Second came the questions — the doubts, the sideway glances, even a few bitter comments if you were unlucky enough. Jungkook had kind of a reputation when it came to sleeping around, so most people jumped to the conclusion that either you were his favorite plaything (which might have been the most offensive thing you’ve ever heard) or that you were simply the rare one he had friendzoned because he didn’t want to fuck you (a big runner-up to that prize). Eventually, though, you settled their anguishes simply by saying that you knew each other ever since you were kids. 

Which took you to the final phase: relief and acceptance. The ones who saw you as a threat instantly relaxed, and the ones who couldn’t understand why he would “waste his time” with “someone like you” quickly understood that it was a deep, innocent connection that he was just “too sweet to let go.” Obviously, that didn’t make you feel any better. 

Truth was, it was kind of hard being friends with Jungkook. Mostly because the boy casted a light so strong that it was almost impossible not to stay in his shadow, but also because you always felt like you had to justify your existence every time he chose you instead of anyone else. You were the person he ran to hug once his team won; you were the one he ditched other people for, just to hang out with you. It made you insecure. And, yeah, there was also the fact that you had been madly in love with him for some time now, but that was unimportant. 

Well, until he asked you to be his (fake) girlfriend, that was. 

Jungkook, bless his heart, was never one of the brightest when it came to real-life situations. He could ace a test with no issue, but, when it came to reading the room, he was a lost cause — something a bit paradoxical when you realized how social he was, but, well, people probably thought his cluelessness was adorable. And that might also be the reason why he never caught onto your pathetic crush, but that was a different topic. 

“Why the fuck would I do something like that?” You munched on your chips, eyes flickering over the TV screen. The two of you had made the terrible decision to hatewatch all the bad shark-themed movies you could find, and now you were suffering the brain-smoothing consequences. “Sounds like the dumbest plan in the world. And I don’t understand what you’d get out of that.” 

He whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Jungkook had been trying to convince you for half a movie now, and he was running out of arguments. “I told you already,” he stressed, eyes locked to the white ceiling. With the living room completely immersed in shadows, the shades of blue and yellow from the television reflected off his face like a prism. “The boys have been teasing me because I could never hold a date.” 

“And? That’s your problem.” You looked at him, meeting his desperate stare. “And, honestly, why did you even lie about it? It’s true, you know it.” 

“You’re cruel.” Jungkook tugged the bag of chips off your hands, ignoring your complaints. “I have my reasons.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, what is it again? Waiting for the right person?” You teased, watching as his frown only deepened, his cheeks puffed out as he angrily chewed. “Come on, Cinderella, snap out of that fairy tale. Have you stopped to think how many nice girls you let go because of that stupid mindset?”

“It’s not stupid,” he murmured, clearly irritated. 

With a sigh, you shrugged. “Fine. It’s not.” You yanked the bag of chips away from him, slightly sad that it was almost finished. Unfortunately, your marathon had made you eat a lot more junk food than your body could probably handle, but that was a problem for the future you. Present you really wanted more chips. “I’m just bitter.” 

“We can agree on that.” He smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes that prepared you for the worst. “What was it that those guys called you in high school?”

You pointed at him. “Don’t,” you warned. 

But his smirk only grew, morphing into a full-blown (dazzling) smile. “Ice queen?” Jungkook tried. 

You rolled your eyes, sinking into the couch. “It’s a dumb nickname, shut up,” you groaned, trying to focus on the shitstorm that unreveled on the television. There was a priest trying to exorcise the ghost of a demon shark, and that was a thousand times more interesting than recalling the nightmare that was high school. “It got even worse when Frozen came out.” 

“Still gets to you, though.” Jungkook poked you on the shoulder, allowing himself one last laugh at your distress before striking once again. “So… wanna help me?” 

Yeah, like that would have magically changed, you thought. “I already said no.”

Jungkook leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his palms. He was in anguish, but you couldn’t feel that sorry when he had caused that himself. “But I already told them we were dating,” he whined, defeated. 

“Again, sounds like a you problem,” you said, throwing the empty bag of chips on the coffee table. “Just say that you panicked and made some shit up. Own up to it, you’re already a grown up.” 

Jungkook shook his head. “I can’t, they’ll never believe me again.” 

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Dragging this out won’t make it any better. You should tell them the truth,” you said, pausing for an instant. “Actually, I can’t see this ending well in, like, any possible scenario. Even Doctor Strange had better odds in Infinity War.” 

The fact that you liked Jungkook was the key point that he didn’t have access to, but that was very clear inside your head. Even in the best possible outcome, in which no one doubted a single thing and everything magically went back to normal, you’d still have to live with that weight inside your chest. Sounds pretty fucking painful to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend when you were almost considering selling your soul to turn that into a real situation. And then to be done with it like it wasn’t nothing more than a business transaction, or a platonic favor for a good friend... that would just suck, to put it lightly. 

Sadly, Jungkook wouldn’t give up so easily. “What if we, like, only do it tomorrow night?” He pressed on, turning to take a better look at you. He always looked so breathtaking, his gorgeous big eyes just staring at you like a cute dog pleading for a piece of meat. You could sense yourself starting to fold, and that was always a bad sign. “Just for a few of my friends to see us together, show that it’s the truth, and then I can just say that we didn’t work out and decided to stay friends.” 

“But it’s not the truth,” you stressed, turning your head back to the television. You were starting to get pissed at the fact that you’d have to watch that movie again to try and make sense of what was happening. But you were also sad because you were both considering his request and suffering in advance because of its unavoidable consequences. “I don’t wanna be just another name in your list of conquests, Jungkook.”

Correction: you didn’t want to pretend to be one. You were fine with trying something out (for real) with Jungkook, even if you didn’t get a fairy tale ending. You just didn’t want to play with your own emotions — and probably induce some emotional trauma — because your best friend couldn’t own up to the fact that he lied about something (again). 

And, yet, it was getting to you. Just like a vipers’ venom, it had started to spread inside your body, corroding the walls you had built up for yourself. Your therapist would rip you to shreds if she knew you were thinking like that, but maybe ignoring the only chance you’d have with Jungkook — real or not — would be the foolish decision there. 

Besides, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? You could push your pride aside and help a friend during a time of need… and who knows, maybe get a couple kisses along the way? And just for one night? You could do that… 

Back in the present, Jungkook was just now digesting your previous claim. “What? You’d never be just that,” he guaranteed, an expression of bewilderment plastered all over his obnoxiously handsome face. Every day was a new test from God, and you were failing miserably. “You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.” 

Ouch. That was a low hit. And worse? You knew that he didn’t say that with any malicious intent to manipulate you or anything — he genuinely meant it. Jungkook was such a sweetheart when it came to you, he’d stay up to help you with your projects; volunteer to take you out on an adventure when you were feeling down, even if he had to face the consequences of skipping practice later. He had done so much for you, and you couldn’t even push your feelings aside one time to help him out. 

Your high school insecurities were starting to erupt, and you were thinking that maybe those dumb nicknames were right. Maybe you were kind of a cold-hearted bitch. Especially when your best friend/love of your life was pouting and begging you to help him and all you could do was to mock him. 

Beside you, Jungkook deflated like the saddest balloon in the world, a long sigh leaving his lips. “You know what? You’re right, this is stupid,” he admitted, running one hand through his hair. You always wanted to do the same, it was so soft and puffy that you could get lost in it. Also, there was something about the tattoos on his arms, the veins of his hand, that just made you lose your mind. “I should just own up to it.” 

Took you a couple seconds for your rational brain to catch up to your horny one, but it eventually did. “It’s okay, I’ll do it,” you told him. “Just one night.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes widened like a kid’s during Christmas morning, a beautiful smile overtaking his features. He jumped in your direction and, before you could even react, his strong arms were wrapping around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You were so fucked. “You’re the best! I owe you big time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll remember that.” You placed your hand on his forehead and pushed him away, ignoring both his whiny complaints and the quickening of your heartbeat. “Now back to our shark exorcism.” 

~ 

Jungkook’s teammates didn’t get why the two of you were still friends. 

As Jimin, the world’s most competitive striker once said, some things are so obvious that you just can’t ignore them unless you have a secret agenda. When it came to that specific subject, the obvious thing would be that Jungkook had an earth-shattering crush on you, and his secret agenda was the fact that he was too blind to see that it was mutual, so he decided to repress it until it asphyxiated him. 

His teammates tried to warn him over and over again that you, in fact, were all heart eyes and chuckles when he came around, Namjoon even got close to creating an entire PowerPoint presentation about it, but all of it fell on deaf ears. Jungkook, in his blissful ignorance, just wouldn’t hear it. From where he was standing, there was just no conceivable way that his laughable childhood crush had any chance of being mutual. 

Jungkook didn’t know much about psychology, though, because, if he did, he might have faced those emotions head-first instead of avoiding them until they started presenting themselves in different, slightly destructive ways. When you repress something, it doesn’t really go away, it just settles somewhere else, like squeezing a handful of slime. No matter how much he tried to get a hold of it, it still slipped between his fingers — made him cancel dates last minute to spend the night with you, convinced him to do the dumbest things just to make you happy. 

And, now, in a weird projection of a personal fantasy, he was pretending to be your boyfriend. 

In his defense, it wasn’t a machiavellian plan he had meticulously constructed: it just kind of happened. Jungkook wasn’t exactly a poster child when it came to being teased — after all, he was used to be being the best at practically everything — and, when his teammates all ganged up on him during their break, claiming that he just couldn’t get a girlfriend even if he tried, both his annoyance and the practice-induced exhaustion made him say that he was already dating someone. 

“Yeah, right,” Hoseok had mocked, pressing a towel against his sweaty forehead. The changing room thankfully had a great ventilation system, combined with large windows, otherwise they would’ve died from the heat and the smell already. “Just say that you can’t take a joke and move on, Jeon. No need to lie about it.” 

Taehyung barged in before Jungkook could get a word out. “Besides, we know there’s only one person that can fit inside your heart,” he said, watching as Jungkook’s eye twitched. “How’s ___ doing, by the way?” 

“She’s fine,” he answered, monotone. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna ask her out or what?” Jimin teased, his voice coming from beyond a row of lockers. “Or are we free to do that?” 

In typical animal planet fashion, the locker room exploded in a roar of laughs and fragmented provocations, every guy trying to speak louder than the other. Jungkook felt himself shrink, his frown deepening as his heartbeat quickened. There was something burning at his insides, a mixture of shame and jealousy, and that was exactly what pushed those idiotic words out of his mouth. 

“Actually,” he started speaking when the thunderous laughter diminished, turning around to place his bag back in his locker. “I’m dating ___.” 

It was almost amazing how fast the room morphed into a crypt — the thick silence hitting Jungkook right in the face, weighing down and turning into guilt and worry inside his stomach. He was unable to look back and face his friends, instead pretending to be extremely interested in his bag’s zipper. 

Why did he always do that? Why couldn’t he tell the truth for once in his life? 

“That seems even harder to believe,” Taehyung was the first one to speak, the one brave soul that verbalized what they all were thinking. Simply as that, life returned to the locker room, and so did the sounds of his teammates laughing at him. “Just yesterday you were acting all nervous around her.” 

Jungkook slammed his locker door shut, turning around with a determined expression. “Well, yeah, because I was planning to ask her to be my girlfriend,” he had never constructed a lie so fast before, but, even then, Taehyung didn’t look like he was buying it. “I’m serious.” 

Which was probably the least trust-worthy thing he could say. 

“Prove it, then.” Hoseok smiled, crossing his arms. “Call her right now.”

“I’ll do you better,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate — a terrible sign, he realized one heartbeat too late; it was never good when his mouth decided to take the lead, allowing for the words to flow out of him before they could be filtered by his logical brain. But Jungkook was competitive, both in the field and in his personal life, and he couldn’t stand the humiliation that came from both losing an argument and being caught in a lie. As ironic as that was. “I’ll take her to Saturday’s party and you can all see it with your own eyes.” 

Jungkook was just buying himself some time, hoping that his charms would be enough to sweep you into his miraculous scheme before his teammates could realize something was off. Hoseok, of course, did not know that, but his expression showed that he wasn’t all too convinced either. “Sounds great,” he lowered his voice, looking at his friend up and down. “See you there, Jeon.” 

Jungkook left the locker room with a crown of victory hovering over his head and a bright, prideful smile — one which shrunk and shrunk as his day progressed and he realized that there was no way in hell that you’d accept to be swept into his personal melodrama. 

He had enough time between that conversation and the night at your place to go through all the stages of grief. In denial he found himself running from those cyclical thoughts, ignoring that it had happened in the first place — maybe it was all a big misunderstanding and his friends would let that situation go; maybe he didn’t have to sacrifice his friendship with you just to avoid being wrong about something. In anger, came anxiety, frustration at himself for being so dumb and impulsive, allowing for his ego to step in the way and shield him from reason. That one he suffocated with extra gym time and a consequential terrible cramp in his shoulder. 

Soon enough came bargain and Jungkook was thinking that, if he were to be very lucky, he could convince his friends that you happened to be way too sick to go to the party that night, and that, weirdly enough, you two broke up the very next day and you didn’t want to talk about it ever. Maybe he could go through all that in secret, use all his brain power to construct an elaborate, moviesque plan to get him out of the ditch he had dug himself and no one would ever know of his dirty lies. 

It was all for nothing, however — the depression stage materialized soon after, in the middle of his advanced calculus class, and Jungkook was practically imploding over the fact that he had managed to ruin everything between you two, and also between him and the rest of his team. That was it: not only would he lose his best friend (and perhaps the love of his life) but he would also lose trust and respect in the field. 

Acceptance only reached him when Jungkook was on his way to your place, and he came to terms with the idea that he was already in deep shit, so he should at least try and change that. He would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a bit — even if he was positive you’d laugh until you were out of breath and never let him forget about it — under the possibility that perhaps, you’d say yes. 

Which, surprisingly, you did. 

Now, Jungkook wasn’t particularly emotional when it came to most things — even in the field, he managed to control that side of him well — but there was something intense bubbling up in his stomach as he made his way back to his dorm after the movie was over; a laugh that hung somewhere between maniacal and desperate that he couldn’t hold back. That could be bad, really bad. Especially considering that he didn’t have the slightest clue how he would hold himself back from just vomiting out a fervent love confession the second that you kissed him. 

Because that was supposed to happen, right? In a relationship, pretend one or not, people should kiss. He should act like your boyfriend, perhaps a fantasy that he had way too often, and still spare enough brain matter to remind himself that it was all fake. And that it was also all his fault. 

As established, Jungkook was the president of the company of putting himself in extremely uncomfortable situations. And, when the night of the party arrived, he decided to screw himself even further by lending you his team jacket. 

It was because it was cold, he tried to brainwash himself. It was because you were cold, because the night was cold, and not because he liked the view of you in it in the slightest. Or maybe because it was a bomb pumping his thorax full of pride and possessiveness; because it was making him believe, even for a second, that you two were part of a chimerical alternative universe in which you were together. Not at all. It was strictly business — the neighborly job of a worried best friend, at most. 

“Is this really necessary?” you spoke his doubts out loud, tugging at the sides of his large jacket. 

Jungkook managed to keep his cool, eyes darting around the peaceful streets. You two were close to the party, he could already listen to the repetitive beat echoing through the cool breeze, and every step he took amplified his anticipation by tenfold. “It speaks for itself,” he told you, his hand firm on your waist. You were wearing a sleeveless top and a skirt in the same color, and there was a stripe of exposed skin in between the two that Jungkook’s hand brushed against sometimes. He felt like he was a virgin again, hyper-aware of your body and completely unsure what to do with himself. “Besides, you look good wearing it.”

You rolled your eyes. “I look stupid.”

Jungkook glimpsed at you, a sleazy smile growing on his lips. “You look like my girlfriend.”

You snorted. “Oh, so I look super stupid,” you corrected, looking away. 

“Funny,” Jungkook answered, monotone. His smile melted away — there was no way in hell it was mutual, he thought, his friends were just fucking him over, trying to see him embarrass himself. “I hope you act better than you tell jokes.” 

“It’s probably as good as the effects in Birdemic,” you said. 

Jungkook shook his head — he had conflicting emotions when it came to that movie, considering that it was so awful that he laughed to the point of choking on his popcorn. You, being the empathic friend you were, brought up his near-death experience as often as you could. “At least that movie was funny, your poor acting will just be sad,” he threw back. 

“Thanks.” You giggled, making his heart leap inside his chest. Jungkook wanted to beat his head against the asphalt until that shy spirit of his middle school past left his body completely. “I’ll let you do the talking.” 

Jungkook nodded, allowing his gaze to navigate around the neighborhood — there were a handful of strangers in the streets with the two of you, but it was a shortcut to the frat house that not many people knew of. It brought along a peculiar sentiment of intimacy; the way your features were covered by the pale yellow of the light poles making him want to dive in and kiss you until he couldn’t even breathe. The realization that he could actually do that, under the excuse of a fake relationship, was one that almost knocked him out. 

“Just to be sure, by the way,” Jungkook started. “You’re okay with me, like, touching you like you were my girlfriend, right?”

You looked at him for a moment, measuring his expression. “Yeah, that’s part of it,” you told him. “I’m guessing you are okay with it as well?” 

“Fine by me.” Jungkook cleared his throat. The frat was literally just around the corner, buzzing into the night with a generic beat and the joyful yelps of hundreds of strangers. He usually enjoyed that cacophony of sounds, but, that time, it was like the screams from hell. “Just a couple hours, okay? Then you’re free.” 

“It’s fine,” you told him. “How bad can it be?” 

~ 

Short answer: bad. Long answer: bad, but with a twist. 

Jungkook looked around the party like he was a kid lost in the supermarket, his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for his teammates (which that whole spectacle was supposed to be for). You felt like a piece of a puzzle thrown in the wrong box, leaning against his toned body as he tried to think of what to do. 

“So…” You cleared your throat, trying to make yourself heard through the loud beating of the song. Jungkook followed your voice, leaning in closer. Maybe your heart skipped at that, but no one had to know. “What’s the plan, captain?”

Jungkook clicked his tongue. You two were leaning against one of the walls of the large living room, in a somewhat calm corner of the party. “I don’t know, I’m not feeling like being interrogated right now,” he said. “I think it’s better if we wait for the guys to get a bit more drunk so they don't think too much about it.” He sighed, looking around for a bit longer. “We could stay here for a while, just sit down and talk. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.” You breathed out. “I’m taking any chance to rest my feet at this point.” 

The ancient gods of the frat parties seemed to be on your side, because it didn’t take much longer than a couple minutes to find a sofa that 1) was unoccupied and 2) didn’t look like it had any suspicious fluids on it. You settled by Jungkook’s side, a breath of relief escaping your chest as you felt the pressure on your calves subside considerably — all you wanted was to go back in time and kill whoever thought high heels were a good idea. 

However, you relaxed way too early. 

You had to hold back a surprised gasp when Jungkook abruptly tugged your legs onto his lap, one hand finding the curvature of your waist instantly. 

“This feels... intimate,” your voice sounded stiff when you spoke up, pushing your skirt down. 

“Yeah, that’s the point.” His eyes roamed around the room for exactly two seconds before they widened just slightly, then snapped back at you. “Okay, two things.” Jungkook placed one arm on the couch behind you, murmuring as he leaned in. He had that scheming expression on his face that had been plaguing you ever since middle school, when he first discovered pranks, and you didn’t think that was a good sign. “First: Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon are here, and they’re looking— shh, don’t look! Dumbass.” 

“Sorry. You’re the dumbass,” you said. It was hard not to look when you felt as if you were under a microscope, watched closely by his meat-headed friends. Still, you tried to keep your composure. “And the second?” 

He exhaled, the hand that was on your waist traveling to touch your cheek. You wondered if he could feel how hot your skin had become. “It’s kind of the time that you have to commit to being my fake girlfriend,” Jungkook warned, stare oscillating towards your mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” 

Suddenly, you felt like you were right back in high school, about to have your first kiss and not having a single clue about how to do it. “O-Okay,” you whispered. 

Jungkook didn’t waste any time. Before you could think about something to try and break the ice, his mouth was on yours, silencing you and turning your thoughts into white noise. He kissed you softly, much slower than you had expected, giving you time to adapt to the tender movement of his lips caressing yours. 

You sighed, gradually remembering how to move your limbs. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as he leaned his head to the side, opening his mouth just slightly and deepening the kiss. No matter how many times you had fantasized about that moment, it could never compare to the way his tongue slipped inside your mouth, nor the small grunt he let out against your lips. Kissing Jungkook felt like heaven and you had completely forgotten about your fake dating situation until he decided to pull back just a bit. 

“Fuck, you’re a good kisser,” he mumbled, nose bumping against yours. 

You let out a breathy laugh. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I’m not surprised.” His hand slithered down to your hips, his warm palm sending shockwaves through your body. You felt like you were in danger from the way he was speaking, his body moving closer to yours. “I knew you would be.” 

Jungkook didn’t even give you time to process his words before he was kissing you again — sloppier, hungrier this time. Again and again, he chose to throw gasoline into the flame of your desire, and what could you do but to melt under his touches, to kiss him just as eagerly. 

Faithlessly, you were trying to convince yourself that it was all an act, that he was just playing it up because he knew his friends were watching. But his hand just felt so firm on your hips, pulling you closer as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the soft sea of his hair. It seemed so real when he moaned softly against your mouth, biting on your lower lip before tracing kisses down your jaw, towards your neck. 

Or maybe you were just so deep inside your own illusions that you didn’t want to believe that it was all for show. 

Your eyes parted just slightly, trying to find his friends amongst the crowd of strangers. It was extremely hard to think when Jungkook was sucking and licking his way down your neck, his hand squeezing your thighs. Apparently they were nowhere in sight, though, for those obviously bright orange jackets had left your field of vision. 

“Jungkook,” you called, surprised at how firm your voice came out. The boy only hummed against your flesh, not paying much attention to what you were saying. “I think they already left.” 

Still, it didn’t seem like he was willing to stop. Jungkook mumbled against your neck, his voice so low that you almost didn’t catch his words past the loud music. “Yeah, but someone else can be watching.” 

You didn’t know who, though, and you didn’t really care. You were more worried about the small bites he was placing on your skin, the soft sucking of his mouth that left you pressing your legs together, begging for relief. “Um, okay, but there’s a minor emergency,” you told him. 

That managed to get his attention, for the boy pulled back so he could look at you. “What is it?” He asked, worried. 

You shifted around on the couch, your legs still thrown over his lap. You noticed something hard poking against your skin, which gave you enough momentum to admit out loud that, “I’m, like, soaking wet right now,” you said. “My neck is super sensitive and I’m really trying to hold back here.” 

Jungkook froze, blinking a few times and your words settled in his mind. He would never understand how you could be so shy in one second, and then just throw that bomb on his lap like it wouldn’t make his dick rock hard in record time. “Fuck, how can you just say that so naturally?” He cursed. 

“Sorry.” You bit your lip. Jungkook had to fight the urge to kiss you again. “I’m just being honest.” 

How ironic was it that, while Jungkook lied his way through life, you had no problem throwing those random truths right at his face? The opposites do attract, after all. 

He cleared his throat, unsure if he should pull away or not. “Want me to stop?” 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I think this is getting weird.” 

Maybe it would be the perfect time for the world to just open up and eat him whole, considering that Jungkook had never felt so embarrassed in his life. “Weird how?” He asked. 

“Weird like… weird.” Self-expression under moments of extreme sexual pressure really wasn’t your forte. You broke eye contact, flustered, instead choosing to look at the cluttered coffee table by your side. Jungkook’s hand was still on your body and you liked his touch far too much for your own well-being. “Maybe it would be better if we just went home.” 

“Right now?” Jungkook whined. Sometimes he still acted like the kid you knew, all puffy cheeks and demands for attention; for things to happen the way he wanted. You, being the simp that you were, were his number one enabler. “One more hour, please? We’ve been here for so little time, I just wanna cover all my bases.” 

His pouty lips and needy voice was a Molotov cocktail thrown directly in your heart. “Fine.” You puffed out. 

“Thank you!” Jungkook beamed, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. The action was so automatic, so unthought, that neither of you reacted to it for a second. “Um… why do you say we try the backyard? Jimin said he’d try some new barbecue technique or whatever, so maybe they’re outside.” 

“And after that we leave?” You asked. He nodded. “And you do the talking?” 

“I’ll try my best,” Jungkook agreed.

You sighed. “Okay. I need some fresh air anyways.” 

~ 

Back in middle school, you had a very eccentric world history teacher. You clearly remember one afternoon that she simply walked in and asked the class what was the worst type of torturing they could ever imagine a human could endure — which ended up being a great opening line to a very interesting class about the medieval times and the ways of the inquisition, but also something that plagued you for a long time. That night, when you returned home, you dove into the rabbit hole about the topic and (much to the horror of your parents) discovered a thing or two about torture methods. 

The key point, it seemed, wasn’t even about the actual physical act, but about the horrendous expectation that came from it. Psychological torture could break a person apart before someone even laid a finger on them. You knew that already, but you had never truly witnessed it until that night. 

“Well, guess I have to take back what I said,” Hoseok started, his speech slightly slurred by the alcohol. Jungkook was right, they were a lot less intense after a few drinks, and apparently weren’t questioning a lot either. “I didn’t think you two would ever end up together after so many years of bullshit, but here we are.”

“Cheers to that, brother,” Jimin barged in, raising his cup. 

Jungkook chuckled behind you. “You guys have no fucking faith in me.” 

As a typical former theater kid, you were naturally dramatic. But you weren’t kidding when you said that pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend might be a newfound method of psychological torture — especially when he made you sit on his lap, his head resting on your shoulder and strong arms wrapped tightly around you. It was because there were no more chairs left in the backyard, and he wanted to play the gentleman/possessive boyfriend and didn’t allow you to stand up. But justificatives were fruitless when you could feel him getting harder by the minute. 

“It’s not about faith, you just fucked me up,” Taehyung said. He was the least inebriated one out of the group, but that didn’t mean much. “I owe Yoongi like fifty bucks now, thanks, man.” 

Jungkook was probably going to say something equally ludicrous in return, but your  curiosity made you act quicker. “Why?” You asked. 

Taehyung clicked his tongue, leaning back against his chair — it was the type that folded in half, and you were thinking he would flip over any second now if he continued with those harsh movements. “Ah. No biggie. He was one of the few people who believed your boyfriend here when he said you two were together.” 

You giggled, trying to keep yourself composed. Unlike Jungkook, you were not very skilled when it came to making up lies at the spot, so you ended up deflecting a little. “Yeah, it was a bit… sudden. So I understand the surprise.” 

Hoseok yawned, throwing his head back. “Nah, not really a surprise.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, shifting a little behind you. You felt him tense up, which probably wasn’t a good sign. “Yeah, what do you mean?” He echoed. 

“I mean… that it wasn’t a surprise,” Hoseok repeated, raising his eyebrows in a quiet mockery, as if you had just questioned the color of the sky. “Yoongi was sure Jungkook had finally gotten the balls to confess to you. I, myself, didn’t think it was that likely.” 

Wait, what? Suddenly you felt like you were the one being lied to, and all of them were in it together, building this huge prank around that story just to humiliate you. There was no way Hoseok was serious about that, not when the booze was probably melting his brain. 

Before you could continue to think about that, however, Jungkook spoke up. “Man, you guys suck.” He laughed. “I told you I’d do it someday and you never believed it.” 

Ah. That was it. Jungkook had lied about it just like he had done countless times in the past. 

You deflated a little, a sting of pain inside your chest as the conversation continued to unravel around you. Right then and there, you felt like the stupidest person alive, with no right to complain about the consequences you knew would come from that idea. Even if you had almost convinced yourself otherwise, what probably happened was that Jungkook got cornered some time in the past about some other girl, and ended up telling his friends that he liked you instead, just to get out of that situation. Like some of his lies, it snowballed, and it took you to where you two were now. 

It was hard not to feel hurt, even if you still believed you were a bit at fault for agreeing to his moronic plan. You knew you’d end up like this, suffering over someone who didn’t see you the same way, and you still fell headfirst into that trap. Maybe you were the bad guy in that situation, maybe you were the creepy one for taking advantage of his situation just to feel his body against yours, just to kiss him and pretend that it was all true. Maybe you had no room to judge. 

If you concentrated really hard, you could probably pinpoint the exact moment in which you realized that you were head over heels for your best friend. It wasn’t as glamorous as you’d like, just a dirty thought catalyzed by your teen hormones that unleashed an avalanche — it had happened back in the dark, desolate lands of high school, when you were cheering for Jungkook during one of his games. It was an important one, from what you could remember, his brain buzzing with the tension of his senior year and the promise of a fantastic victory. As always, you were there for him: front row, face painted with the colors of your high school, and cheering him on. 

He smiled at you, like he always did, but there was something odd about it. Like a lightning crossing the sky, one simple (yet fatal) intrusive thought popped up inside your head: he’s hot. 

It was all downhill from there. As much as you tried to wave those ideas away, they kept growing and multiplying, finding new ways to justify themselves — not only was Jungkook hot, suddenly, but you also realized that he would be an amazing boyfriend. He was sweet, kind, funny, determined, a bit ditzy sometimes but nothing you couldn’t deal with. He heard you complain about your problems when needed, but also felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you. There were so many shared interests between you two that you were positive that you could talk forever and never run out of topics to discuss. Jungkook was a walking minefield and you just stepped right on it. 

And there you were, stumbling your way down into hell as your lives progressed, and Jungkook got into the same college as you. As predicted, he quickly grew to be the campus’ new star player: a great attacking midfielder, with the number 10 plastered on his shirt and a heart-stopping smile on his face. How on earth could you fight that temptation? It was like a re-enactment of Eve and the snake in the garden of eden. Only the snake had amazing thunder thighs that looked even better with his team’s shorts. 

You always asked yourself if Jungkook knew what he was doing when he used his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead, leaving his glistening abs in full display; or maybe when he hugged and swirled you around after they won a game. Part of you wanted to believe that he liked you back, even if you couldn’t really see it. Most of you believed that he was just his personality and nothing else. 

“Hey,” he breathed out, voice husky against your ear. You thanked his oversized jacket for concealing the goosebumps on your arms. “You good?” 

Just on the brink of a meltdown, no biggie. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

He hummed, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Just a little bit longer, alright?” He placed a tiny kiss there, but it was powerful enough to make you whimper quietly. No one seemed to notice, but you didn’t know why Jungkook did that when you had just told him that your neck was sensitive. “They seem convinced.” 

Maybe “they” should have you included as well, because you had to actively remind yourself that you two were just acting, that he didn’t see you that way. Nevermind the pool of wetness between your legs, nevermind the way your body was on edge with his strong arms pulling you closer; his chiseled abs pressed tightly against your back. Nevermind Jungkook’s sweet smell or the gentle touches of his lips against your skin. It was all fake, dollar store material. It was just a matter of time before your ride became a pumpkin and the dream was over. 

At the same time, you could tell that Jungkook was being affected as well — you could feel the outline of his hard cock poking against your ass when you pressed down on his lap; noticed the tense movements of his arms as they held onto your body. And when Jungkook spoke, with his head placed on your shoulder and a solemn expression on his face, you could tell that he got just a bit choked up every time you shifted around, brushing your ass against his erection. 

The human brain is amazing when it comes to searching for any reason to prove our own theories, however, and that was why you weren’t taking any of those signs seriously — cognitive bias was a thing, and you weren’t falling for its tricks. If there are people out there that believe that the earth is flat, even with a ridiculous amount of evidence against it, you couldn’t trust yourself in believing that you had enough proof to think that Jungkook was interested in you. Maybe your argument was equivalent to “well, I can’t see gravity so it doesn’t exist”, and you didn’t even know it.

So you decided to take it easy, to aim towards the side of caution, as the night progressed into the deeper levels of Dante’s Inferno. By the time that Jungkook decided that you two had accomplished your goal and it was time to get you home, you almost cried in relief. 

You two drove in almost complete silence, only sparsely commenting on a few occurrences of the night. There was a thick blanket of tension hanging between the two of you, a bitter taste in the back of your throat that you couldn’t ignore. It had been a fun night, yeah, but it was done with. Time to burst that bubble and crash back into reality. 

Thankfully or not, depending where you stood, Jungkook didn’t seem to be as worried about those details. He was ridiculously cheerful, beyond proud of his skills, and a little over the moon about the fact that he had been with you the entire night, acting out things he never thought would come true.

“There you go, all done,“ he exclaimed, victorious, the second you two walked into your apartment. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” 

You scoffed, leaning against the wall so you could remove your shoes. “It wasn’t good either,” you said, monotone. You were physically, emotionally and psychologically exhausted, and you seriously didn’t want to look at his annoyingly pretty face for another second. “Have fun telling them about our instantaneous breakup.” 

At that, Jungkook visibly tensed up. “Ha. Yeah…”

You sighed, beyond pissed off (and heartbroken) at that point. You weren’t Jungkook, weren’t built to lie your way through life, to pretend as if the feelings inside your chest were not your own. “By the way — fuck, I hate high heels,” you complained, throwing your shoes on the floor with a bit more force than necessary. Jungkook flinched a little, distracted. “By the way, what did Hoseok mean by that?”

He blinked, swallowing dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck — think of something. “By what?”

You raised one eyebrow. “Saying that you’d never have the guts to confess or whatever.” 

The worst part was that Jungkook could see in your downcast eyes that you had no idea what you were asking him. You seriously couldn’t tell that he had feelings for you — or, if you did, you simply couldn’t believe it. Or maybe you just despised him on a level in which a crush would be preposterous to even consider. “Ah.” He clicked his tongue. Think, you dumbass! Come up with something! “That.” 

You were getting a little choked up now. There was no way you couldn’t notice the trademarked signals of Jungkook buying himself some time, trying to come up with something inside that evil head of his. Maybe you had been right thinking that he had mentioned your name randomly one day, just to save his ass, and now he was dealing with the backlash of his actions. “Yeah, what was it about?” You pressed on. 

Jungkook chuckled, nervous. “Man… I was really hoping you’d forget that.” 

You took a step closer to him, anticipating what was to come. If he was going to hurt you, you wished he would just do it quickly, without dragging it out so much. “Just tell me, Jungkook.” 

And he was trying. Kind of. Jungkook was looking at you like his brain was frying, the Widow’s blue screen reflecting off his widened eyes. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, stare falling to the floor. “I can’t lie to you about that.”

You scoffed, venom running up your throat. That was priceless. “You tell white lies almost every day, why is this so different?” 

“Because it’s not a white lie.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and narrowed your eyes, taking another step towards him. “Why are you thinking about lying to me, in the first place?” You asked. “Even if… even if it will hurt me. I deserve to know.” 

“Uhh…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. “Because the truth kind of sucks and it can fuck everything up. And I don’t wanna do that.” 

Apparently you were right about your previous theory, then. Jungkook didn’t see you the same way, after all. And that was fine (it wasn’t), but he couldn’t even grow a pair and tell you straight on. “So you would rather avoid it?” You didn’t relent, motivated by your frustration, your hurt, that sickly feeling of betrayal — everything at once. “That has been kind of a running theme with you, hasn’t it?” You stared at him, but Jungkook could only avert his eyes from your burning gaze, instead looking at his feet. “Fine. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to, but quit dragging me into these bullshit lies of yours. I’m tired.”

“No one has ever cancelled a date with me,” he blurted out.

You hesitated, blinking a few times as you digested his words. “What?”

He breathed out. “No one has ever cancelled a date with me. It was all me,” Jungkook confessed. “I lied to you about that because I wanted to spend more time with you. And I didn’t care about anyone else.”

“Wh—“

Overwhelmed by a random wave of courage, his gaze snapped up at you. “I like when you watch my practice and bring me stuff, and I like when you invite me to those dumb movie marathons and make me watch the most disgusting shit,” Jungkook continued, his words falling incoherently from his mouth. You could only stare, flabbergasted, as he spilled months — years — of secrets all at once. “And I like watching you study, and I love seeing you laugh, I love spending time with you, and Hoseok is fucking tired of hearing me talk about it and do nothing.”

“I... don’t understand what you’re saying,” you told him. 

“I told the guys that we were dating because you were literally the only person that popped in my mind, and the only person I actually wanted to be with,” he just went on, not paying attention to your previous comment. Jungkook was a little on edge now, a bit breathless and wide-eyed. He’s nervous, you realized. It had been a long time since you saw him like that. “And this was the best night I’ve had in a while, just because you were there and I— I’m fucking everything up, I told you I would.”

“Jungkook,” you called softly, feeling as if every inhale was an olympic sport. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you were afraid of having a syncope before you could hear the words you needed so badly. “Just tell me what you want to say.” 

He cleared his throat, shifting the weight from one leg to the other. “I’m like… how do I put this…?” Jungkook paused, took a deep breath, and dropped the bomb. “I’ve been kind of in love with you ever since we were like eight, yeah.” 

Record scratch. Freeze frame. “You what?” 

Jungkook chuckled. “Yep… awkward,” he said. “Sorry.” 

It hasn’t settled in just yet, which explained why you didn’t start screaming at him. “And you have the guts to tell me that I drop things naturally?” You asked. “Are you serious? You better not be fucking with me right now.”

He raised one hand and placed it on his chest. “I’m not, promise.” 

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks. “Jeon Jungkook!” You screeched, both hands flying to hold onto his shirt, rocking him back and forth with the strength of a thousand men. “I’m gonna make you swallow my fist!”

Jungkook was dumbfounded, ten times more confused than when you tried to explain to him the plot of the Velocipastor — which really wasn’t that hard, it was just a pastor who was also a dinosaur shifter. But his brain wasn’t good at following those types of unpredictable plots, and that counted your burst of anger. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting at all,” he murmured, voice flat with disbelief. 

But it was your turn to ramble incoherently. “You’re an idiot! You’re even worse than I thought!” You were still speaking loudly, letting all that frustration wash out of you, giving place to relief. “You made me go through all this fucking night, kissing you and pretending to be your girlfriend, while you actually like me? You prick!” 

You punched his chest — his stupid, muscular, rock-hard chest. “Ouch!” He whined, but you doubted it actually hurt. 

“I was almost crying because of how hard it was to suppress my own feelings for you,” you told him, pulling on his shirt once again. You wanted to take it off, wanted to kiss him until he was all that you could think about. But you also wanted to dropkick him straight to the deepest circle of hell. “And you like me back? Idiot!” 

“Wait, wait, what?” Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, a perfect picture of his surprise. “For real?”

“For real.” Your shoulders slumped, the anger that possessed your body left you as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m in love with you too, you smooth-brained asshole. Ever since high school.” 

He blinked, dumbfounded. “I had no idea.” 

“Didn’t I tell you that speaking the truth is always the better option? You never listen.” You tugged on his shirt one more time, for dramatic effect. “Dumbass.” 

“You’re the dumbass. And no, I don’t think I do,” his voice was flat, mind navigating miles away from your place. “___?”

“What?” You barked. 

“How mad are you?” 

You groaned. “Pretty mad, why?”

It was his turn to take a step towards you, the heat that emanated off his body now surrounding you. “Because I’m gonna kiss you right now and I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t bite my face off.”

You sighed, relaxing against his torso. Jungkook’s hands came up to rest on your waist, guiding you closer to him. “I’ll try my best,” you told him, “go ahead.” 

Maybe all those foolish love songs and melodramatic romantic poets were onto something, because you swore you saw fireworks when Jungkook finally moved in, crashing his lips on yours. Yes, you had kissed him already that night, but there was no way those two situations could be comparable, not when you felt much lighter now that the secret was out, and that you knew what he felt when he pulled you closer, when he sighed against your mouth and caressed your lower back. 

Long years of friendship granted you the knowledge that Jungkook was tender with some things, rough with others — he was gentle with kids, with his other friends, with you; he was hard around the edges when it came to his matches (being especially fiery around championships), people he didn’t like, and goals he wanted to reach. As he kissed you, you could notice him trying to figure out which approach to take with you: his lips were soft on yours, tongue slowly exploring your mouth, but his hands were harsh, groping your ass as he pushed you up against the nearest wall, a growl vibrating inside his chest. 

Maybe it was a bit evil to push his buttons when you knew he was so dangerously close to snapping, but you weren’t in the right frame of mind — or, rather, you weren’t in any frame of mind at all. So, knowing very well that Jungkook was the most competitive person you knew, you pulled away from the kiss to say, “Come on, why don’t you kiss me like you mean it?” 

Which might have been the dumbest final words you could’ve uttered. 

You were graced with just a couple seconds of hesitation from his part — frustration and desire flashing inside his hooded eyes — before he was crashing his mouth onto yours once again. Jungkook didn’t say anything, because he didn’t need to: the messy, sensual kiss he gave you was more than enough to make you shut up. Just according to the keikaku, of course. 

His hands were in the back of your tights before you could think, pulling you up and pinning you against the wall. You moaned against his lips, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth when he rolled his center against yours — cock hard and heavy inside his pants, brushing against your covered heat. Jungkook did it two, three, four times, slowly grinding against you like he couldn’t hold himself back any further, groaning at the feeling. 

When he pulled away, you were almost seeing entire constellations forming in your vision, your breath labored and mind dizzy with desire. “Fuck,” he cursed, resting his forehead on yours. “Want you so fucking bad.” 

“Want you too,” you told him. “Bedroom?” 

He pulled back so he could look at you better. “Sure?” 

You nodded. “Sure.” Leaning in, you placed a timid kiss on his lips. “Want you to fuck me, Jungkook.” 

After all those years, that was all that he needed to hear. He was quick to pull you away from the wall, hands holding your body up and your legs wrapped around his waist. Jungkook knew your apartment like the back of his hand, but he still kept his eyes open as he walked towards your bedroom, your lips mindlessly attacking his thick neck. You had dreamed about doing that so many times and you could say with confidence that you weren’t disappointed by the shuddering breaths he let out, or the small grunts he gifted you every time you sucked his skin just right. By the time that Jungkook placed you on your bed, crawling over you, you were so wet that it was almost embarrassing. 

He looked at you like he was hypnotized, his hands roaming up your legs, slowly spreading them so he could place himself in between. With the action, your skirt rolled up, exposing your underwear. “Shit, I thought about doing this so many times,” Jungkook murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I can’t believe it’s real.” 

“You’re so sappy.” You giggled, but you couldn’t deny that his low voice was getting to you. You shivered when his palms met the exposed skin of your waist, pausing in the space between your skirt and your sleeveless top. Jungkook was deep in thought, his gaze flickering all over your body. “What is it?” You asked. 

“You look so fucking hot in this.” He pulled on the large piece of clothing, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “Wanna fuck you with the jacket on. Just the jacket.” 

You almost choked on your saliva — well that was something you weren’t expecting at all. “Seriously?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him. “You have that much of a hard-on for sports?” 

Jungkook didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes, though, because he gave you a serious answer. “No, I have that much of a hard-on for you.” He dipped in so he could nestle his face on the curve of your neck, humming as he inhaled your scent. Once again, you were faced with the contrast of his soft lips against your skin, but the rough tug of his hands on your skirt. “Wanna fuck my girl with only my jacket on, what’s so wrong about that?” 

You whimpered when he licked on your sensitive spot, trying to push your legs together, but being stopped by his presence between them. Jungkook successfully pulled your skirt out of you, throwing it somewhere on the floor. “Since when are you this possessive?” You asked. 

He moved back, hands progressing to your tube top and sliding it down. It seemed as if the world had conspired in his favor, because it was just so easy to leave you only with his team clothes on, the elastic material leaving your body quick enough. “I’m not possessive,” he responded, only half there. His brain was trying to understand the vision of you before his eyes, only with your panties and his jacket. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing inside his pants, begging for relief, and he just knew that sight would plague him forever. “Wanna make sure that you know you’re mine, though. I’ve thought about this for too long.” 

As you fumbled for something to say, he dove back in, his mouth attacking your breasts with no time. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his messy hair as he sucked and licked your nipples, his strong hands squeezing your tits every time you moaned out. It was almost humiliating how reactive you were, with your shallow breaths and broken calls of his name, but Jungkook was fucking loving it, and he just wanted more of it. 

You melted under his touches as he pulled himself closer to you, his mouth tracing its way back to your clavicles, then your neck. Much to your dismay, his hands were still on your breasts, playing with your erect nipples as he finally found that one spot that made you yelp. 

“W-Wait,” you stammered, “my neck is sensitive.”

Jungkook knew that already. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since you mentioned it back at the party; his cock stiff inside his pants at the memory alone. “I noticed,” he groaned, the vibrations of his voice spreading throughout your skin. One of his hands slithered between your bodies, hastily pulling your underwear to the side so his fingers could plunge between your folds. At the sensation of your arousal, Jungkook growled, pressing his erection against your thigh. “Holy fuck. You’re soaked.”

“I told you,” you said, feeling like your brain was about to melt and drip out of your ears. It was hard to concentrate when he was making out with your neck like that, sucking and biting the skin before liking the same spot he had just attacked. Still, the sudden plunging of his finger inside your pussy caught your attention in an instant. “J-Jungkook, I’m—” 

How shameful was it that you couldn’t even finish a damn sentence? Lust was getting the best of you, pushing your rationalizations aside and filling your lungs with desire. Jungkook soon added a second finger inside you, stretching you wide as he continued to fuck you. It was a fantastic sensation — his hand was much larger than yours, and you were sure you’d be able to cum like that if it kept it up for long enough. 

Jungkook moaned against your neck, pulling his head back so he could take a look at you. His cock throbbed at the sight of your dazed-out face, your parted lips looking so dangerously inviting to him, “Tell me what you want,” he asked, diving in to kiss you. He sucked on your tongue, making you whine as he pulled back. “I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

“Want you,” you said, nails digging into his shoulder blades. 

Jungkook liked the sharp pain that came from it, raising the speed of his fingers just a bit. “I’m right here.”

“No,” you whimpered, blinking back the tears of frustration that covered your irises. God, Jungkook couldn’t even believe you were all his. “Want your cock inside me, please.” 

Listening to you saying that was like experiencing a choir of angels singing directly to him. Jungkook had waited far too long to get you alone like that, so beautiful and pliant beneath him, and there was no way in hell he would deny you your request. 

So he got moving, his hand flying to the back of his shirt, which he tugged off with one swift motion. Your eyes fell to his toned chest, roaming his sweaty skin as he moved onto his belt. “Take those off.” He signaled with his head towards your panties. 

You nodded, sliding your underwear down and throwing it to the side. Even with his jacket still on — which, you admitted, it was both objectively and subjectively hot — you felt extremely exposed, thighs closing just slightly when Jungkook took his pants and boxers off. 

“Keep them open,” he warned, his stare stuck to your glistening folds, and you did. His face was one of sheer lust, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he placed himself back in place. “Wanna see you cum on my fingers,” he breathed, “but I’m too hard. Need to be inside you right now.” 

Your attention flickered downwards, pulled by the small collision of his cock against your clit. You winced at the feeling, but one of his large hands kept you in place as he moved closer to your heat. The constant drumming of your pulse was all that you could hear for a second, heart skipping a beat when you fully noticed his size. 

Would it be weird to say that Jungkook had a pretty dick? Because he did. And a big one too, which made you second guess your own limits for a moment. 

As if he was reading your mind, his cockhead pressed against your pussy, so warm and wet that Jungkook swore he was about to lose his mind — or what was left of it. There was nothing more that he wanted then to nestle himself in your heat, bury himself deep inside you until you were the only thing he could think about. “Shit, look at you,” he murmured, brushing his tip against your entrance. Your figure twitched under him, a soft gasp leaving your mouth at the feeling. “Bet I could slide right in.” 

He was hypnotized by the squelching sounds of your pussy, the way your opening fluttered around his crown as he slowly started to press himself into you. He wanted to do it slowly so he could pay attention to every detail of you, every small exclamation of pleasure that dripped like honey from your lips. 

The world around you two was getting smaller and hotter by the minute, suffocating you and pulling the air out of your lungs. Your eyelashes fluttered as Jungkook’s cock slid inside you, just the tip at first, your back arching as your walls clenched around him, almost as if your body was rejecting his size. “You’re so big,” you whined, burry eyes fighting to focus on his face. 

Jungkook, however, wasn’t looking at you, but at the way his member sank between your folds, diving into your wet heat. “Yeah?” He breathed out, jaw clenching. It was taking everything inside him not to start pounding into you. “I’m sure you can take it, don’t you think?” 

You nodded, and it took a moment for your words to catch up to you. “Y-Yes,” you said. 

Jungkook was more than halfway inside you now, and his mind was more than halfway gone, thrown out of the window and into the gelid nocturnal winds. The way you were wrapping around him should be illegal; you were so perfect that jungkook was sure he could never find a drug that would get him so high. “That’s it, be greedy for me,” he groaned, “take everything.” 

He went as deep as he could, his cock almost brushing against your cervix and your cunt throbbing against him. Maybe he had died and was in paradise, because there was no way he could be feeling so good. 

“Move, please,” you asked meekly. 

Lucky you, he was more than happy to comply. 

Jungkook tilted his hips back, until just his tip was still inside you, only to bottom out again, feeling as your cunt throbbed around him. He did this with unbearable patience at first, allowing your body to get accustomed to his cock splitting you open before he started to pick up the pace. Most of his self control had already burned out, though, at it wasn’t long before he was fucking you fast, rough; groaning at the way your tits jumped every time he shived his length back inside you. 

Once again, he felt like a virgin — you were too much, it seemed. Everything about you got him searching for the stars, wishing for more and moaning out every time your cunt squeezed around him. You were so fucking wet, he thought, so tight and warm, that he wasn’t even thinking about cumming, just about how wished to keep fucking you forever. At the same time, Jungkook was sure that he wouldn’t last long, not when you were looking at him like that, calling his name again and again until it silenced all his thoughts. 

Your breath hitched when his cock brushed against your sensitive spot. “Right there, right there,” you sobbed, nails scratching the skin of his arms. Jungkook caught onto your request straight away, keeping the same angle until you were a babbling mess under him. “Oh m-my god, yeah,” you cried out. “S-So good.”

“Fuck, that’s tight,” Jungkook cursed, his hands digging into your thighs, shoving them up for him so he could reach deeper, fuck you harder. He couldn’t stop moaning, gasping, producing the most beautiful sounds for you. “S-Shit, you’re just pulling my cock in. Your pussy feels amazing.” If given enough time, he could go crazy staring at the way in which his cock disappeared between your folds, only to come back dripping with your arousal, and then slamming back in. “You’re just so fucking hot,” he couldn’t help but say it out loud. “Play with your tits for me.” 

You didn’t have the guts to deny him, your hands palming your tits, squeezing the soft flesh. You whimpered at the feeling, eyes closing in bliss as he continued to fuck you. 

“That’s it, so good for me,” Jungkook praised, hips losing their rhythm for a second. His cock was already throbbing, orgasm threatening to hit him any time now. He needed you to cum first, though. “Your pussy too. Come on.” 

That time, you hesitated a little, a broken sob falling from your lips as you found his gaze. However, you couldn’t deny it — you wanted to be good for him, to get his praises again and again until that was all that you could hear. So you followed his command, two fingers, sinking into your wetness before trailing back to your clit. 

A rush of pleasure ran through your veins, pussy clenching around his cock as your moments grew desperate, needy for more. You were bordering on delirious by that point, your mind unable to focus on one thing, instead jumping between all the stimulation you were getting — your hand squeezing your breast; your fingers rubbing your clit; Jungkook’s cock drilling inside you. “T-Too much,” you cried. 

God, but that’s exactly what he wanted. Jungkook wanted to see that pretty, overwhelmed face of yours, wanted to show you that every minute of waiting had been worth it. “Yeah? But you can take it for me, can’t you?” He moaned under his breath, starting to get lost in his own pleasure. You were getting tighter by the second, which was a dangerous thing. “You can cream my cock if I ask you to, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll do anything f-for you.” 

Jungkook sighed at your words, cock throbbing inside you. “Good girl, just like that,” he husked. “Such a good girl.” 

Tears started to prickle your eyes, and you didn’t know if it was because of how overwhelmed you were, or because your emotions were just now starting to tip over. “J-Jungkook,” you called his name, for a moment not knowing if you would follow it up with something else. His eyes found your own, dazed ones, and his heart skipped a beat at how beautiful and his you looked at that moment. “Love y-you.” 

Years of fantasizing about that confession could’ve never prepared the two of you for such an honest, unexpected moment. Jungkook felt his soul reach levels of happiness which he had never experienced before, mouth only able to say one thing in return. “Love you too.” He pressed his forehead against yours, movements becoming more sloppy, desperate. The new angle was an amazing discovery, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, which tore a loud cry from you. “Holy shit,” he moaned. “You’re getting so fucking t-tight around my cock.” 

“Close,” you breathed out, letting go of his previous requests and just taking your hands to his face instead. Jungkook stared at you like he could see the entire universe in your eyes, his hot breaths hitting your face in gentle waves. “K-Kiss me, please.” 

There was no need to repeat yourself. Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours, trapping you in a kiss that felt both like too much and too little at the same. You barely had any time to dive into the caress of his lips on yours before your high washed over you — walls spasming around his length as you dove into bliss; moaning into the kiss and holding to his broad shoulders. 

He broke the kiss right after, a stuttering, failed breath leaving his chest. “L-Love you,” he choked out, “so much.” Jungkook gasped. He was so close, but, at the same time, he didn’t want to let go just yet. It felt too good — having you was too perfect. “Can’t b-believe you’re mine.” 

You smiled at his state, one hand brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Love you too,” you said back. You could say it again and again, without ever getting tired. After so many years swallowing it down, nothing felt so free. “It’s okay, you can let go.” 

Jungkook nodded, only mildly aware of his own actions. With all the force within him, he pushed himself away from you, pulling out from your heat. Soon, his hand wrapped around his cock, using your arousal to pump himself towards his much-needed release. “Shit,” he choked up, throwing his head back. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—” 

Jungkook grunted as he finally reached his high; cock throbbing in his hands. His cum splattered all over your belly, a few white ropes hitting the underside of your tits as well; dripping down to your mound and pelvis as his movements started to slow down. Even then, so fucked-out and overwhelmed, Jungkook looked like a god you’d be more than happy to worship. 

“Fuck,” he heaved, hooded eyes trailing over your form. By some miracle, probably the work of some mysterious sports god, his jacket remained untouched. “That looks so hot.” 

You smiled, taking a glimpse at your body. “And messy.” 

He let out a breathy, tired laugh. “Yeah. Gonna clean you up, just give me a second. I almost blacked out here.” 

Playfully, you kicked the side of his thigh. “You better,” you told him. “And don’t be so melodramatic.” 

“Rude.” He leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips. You still felt like you were dreaming, trapped in an alternate reality. If that was the case, you didn’t want to wake up. “Next time I’ll cum in your mouth so you’ll learn some manners.” 

Next time. Those words fell like a stone inside your stomach. It was pretty much impossible to mask your lovesick gaze now. “Yeah, bold of you to believe it’ll change a thing.” You pushed him off you, signaling towards the bathroom. “Go, be a good boy and go get me a towel.” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but did as you said, leaving the bed soon after. “I liked you better when you were pretending to be my fake girlfriend,” he spoke from the corridor. “You were more polite.”

“I was acting,” you said. “This is what you’re gonna get.” 

He laughed, appearing back in the room. “Ah, well, I guess I made my choice years ago.” 

That managed to shut you up real fast, heart hammering against your ribcage as Jungkook started cleaning you up. His movements were tender on your skin, feather-like touches that moved up your abdomen, to your breasts, then back between your legs. During all that, a familiar, comfortable silence fell between you two — one that you had grown used to; so empty and yet so full. 

After he was done, Jungkook discarded the towel, returning to his rightful place next to you. Like it was your second nature, you curled yourself up next to him, head resting on his chest and his arm wrapping around your waist. 

The world was perfect for exactly thirty seconds before he decided to ruin it. “So…” Jungkook started, a mischievous smirk already curling on his lips, “you like like me.” 

You scoffed, propping your chin on his chest and meeting his gaze. Jungkook was too cute and too hot for his own good, and his post-sex state managed to incorporate both elements in a hazardous combination. “Yes. And you like like me back.” You remarked. “Did you seriously have to go through all these steps instead of just, I don’t know, telling me?” 

He threw his head back, eyes closing in sheer desperation. “I didn’t know!” 

“Everyone knew!” You exclaimed back, flabbergasted. You couldn’t believe that all those years of shared distress could’ve been solved with the most basic common sense. “Do you think I watch your games because I like them? I tell you all the time I hate sports! Dumbass!” 

Jungkook flinched when you slapped the top of his head lightly, forging pain. “Ouch! You’re the dumbass. And I thought you were kidding.” He pouted, eyes drifting off towards a corner of the room. You could tell he was thinking, so you gave him his time. “But now that you mention it…”

You rolled your eyes, laying back down. “Yeah, that’s not so hard to—”

“I cannot stand body horror.” 

“What?” You shrieked, sitting up at lightning speed. That managed to be the most unexpected thing Jungkook had told you that night — scratcher that: ever. “You told me you loved watching body horror with me.” 

He shook his head, an expression of disgust on his face as he was reminded of every horror movie he had ever watched. “I almost puke watching it. I just pretend I enjoy it because it makes you happy.” 

For a moment, your mouth hung open, mind working a million miles per hour to make sense of his admission. Thinking back to it, you had noticed how frequently Jungkook went to the bathroom while watching Tusk; about how many times he coughed and turned his head away from the Human Centipede. “Oh my god.” Your shoulders slumped, your voice was a frail little thing, filled by disbelief. You couldn’t call him dumb when you had acted just the same. “We’re both idiots.”

Jungkook laughed as you returned to your previous position, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I think that’s the only possible conclusion.”

prompts for characters going to sleep together

warning for some nsfw prompts

curling up to next to your lover in bed, giving them a kiss on the cheek

bringing your lover home from a date, and being asked to spend the night

you've been in a fight, your lover has already gone to bed, without resolving it, but you still whisper ''i love you'' before crawling into bed, because it's something you always do before going to sleep, and this fight doesn't chance anything bonus: your lover isn't actually asleep, and pulls you into their arms

you live in an apartment with your best friend. the two of you always fall asleep in each other's arms, but one day, your friend isn't there. they've fallen in love with someone else. it's your other best friend, who recently moved in with you. and that's when you realize, that those nights you spent together, weren't so platonic after all

waking up at 2am, having lazy, gentle sex before falling asleep in each other's arms

your lover doesn't have anything to sleep in, so you lend them one of your shirts, which is totally too big for them, and it's adorable

your lover doesn't have anything to sleep in, you assure them they'll sleep better without anything on

''if you sleep on the couch, then so will i''

you haven't been able to sleep properly in months, until you meet this one person, and before you know it, you're sound asleep. it's the best sleep you've ever had

you find your lover asleep on the couch, kissing their forehead before you carry them to bed and tuck them in

sharing a bed, but, mutually pining, neither of them getting an inch of sleep, both just staring at the ceiling because they're close enough to touch but they can't

two characters cramming onto a couch together because they let their friend have the bed and they don't want to sleep apart from each other

a steady hand resting on your lover's boob

falling asleep while stargazing

you kiss your lover good night, but as they pull you on top of them, you trace kisses all over their body

the big spoon is reluctant to be the little one, but the little one convinces them to try it for one night

sleeping in a bed that's so small, your bodies are touching at all times, making it even harder to keep your hands off of each other and fighting attraction

you're in bed, ready to go to sleep, but is interrupted when your lover flies out of bed, suggesting that you make some pancakes together, and you glare at your lover like, it's fucking two A.M in the morning ?

sharing a bed, moving closer and closer to your slow burn ''lover,'' finally giving into what you've been denying for so long, and instead of sleeping, you spend hours exploring each other's bodies

snow is raging outside, you and your lover spoon each other to stay warm

building a wall of pillows to prevent you from spooning each other (because spooning will lead to sex and it can't happen. again) (spoiler: it does happen again)

your lover's out of time and this is the first time you have to fall asleep without them

falling asleep while watching a movie together

it's 2am. your lover is still playing video games in the living room, so you grab your pillow, settling yourself in between your lover's thighs as you watch them play, and soon enough, you're asleep again

i know we have to be up early tomorrow but i can't stop kissing you

you and your enemy has to share a bed, and you find a bunch of knives hidden under the mattress. you pick one up, glaring at your lover like ''are you actually trying to kill me?'' but it's really just your enemy's way of making sure they're prepared in case they're ever to be attacked

crying yourself to sleep, your lover holding you close, trying to comfort you

sharing a bed with your ''lover'' and being told to “stay on your side of the bed“ only to wake up the next day, with your ''lover's'' arms wrapped around you

comforting your lover, who's just had a nightmare, assuring them they're okay, you're right here with them

falling asleep with your head on your lover's chest, listening to their heartbeat

there's two beds but somehow we still end up in the same one

there's two beds, and we're in love with each other, but not dating, and since none of us are ready to admit our feelings, we'll just pretend like nothing's wrong and awkwardly get into our separate beds even though the both of us want nothing more than to cuddle each other

whispering ''i love you'' to your ''lover'' while they're asleep because you're not sure if they feel the same way but you really needed to tell them that

alternatively, kissing your ''lover'' on the forehead while they're asleep because you're not sure if they feel the same way and they look peaceful while sleeping

your best friend just picked you up from your partner's house, because you just got dumped. you don't want to be alone, so you ask your best friend if you can stay the night, telling them you'll take the couch. your best friend convinces you to sleep in their bed, and as you snuggle closer to them, desperate for some comfort, they're surprised at first, but then pulls you into their arms

soft things fictional couples do when going to sleep + writing prompts

I want a version of the "unrequited love but its actually very requited" trope but instead of "wow what idiots" its actually just "one person is neurotypical and the other is autistic so they cant read each others feelings at fucking all". The neurotypical person is like "wow they're so funny and smart but they arent really flirting back with me so i guess they dont feel the same :(" meanwhile the autistic one is like "wow they are so pretty and amazing wow i wish i could read social cues so i understood how they felt towards me". Meanwhile, their mutual friend is frothing at the mouth watching them interact once they realize that they BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER THEY JUST HAVE NO WAY TO TELL.

Also, before anyone says anything: im literally autistic

enemies to lovers never had a bad track. “flirting as a distraction during a fight” SLAPS. “realising those feelings might run a little deeper and denying them vehemently” BANGER. “straddles waist with a knife at their throat and staring at their lips a little too long” SEXY. and don’t even get me STARTED on “shut up”/“make me” *heated kiss in the middle of an argument*

Polaroids | Bucky Barnes x reader

Do not repost any of my writes without credit to me

Prompt: You finds an old camera in your room and put it to good use.

Pairing: Bucky barnes x f!reader

Warnings: smut 18+ no minors photography during smut, mentions of flash, bodily fluids, oral m and f receiving, blowjob, cum facial, mention of light skin bruising, explicit words. 18+ only please

A/n: wow. this was... nice. please be kind and give feedback if u have any suggestions. my requests are open! enjoy and remember wrap it before you tap it, no stds or unplanned pregnancies for us.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

A huff left your lips as you rummaged through bags that your mom sent, they were cleaning out your childhood room and randomly sent you boxes piled with useless junk.

“Should’ve just thrown it all away.”

You mumbled in annoyance and you scanned old diary entry’s.

May 10th 1999

Dear Diary, Today was horrible. Mrs clark made me present in front of the whole class! And Jim laughed when I started stuttering, no one liked my pictures.

Pictures! A lightbulb went off in your head and you pulled out your old photography class assignments. Picture after picture flooded the room and soon enough you were surrounded by old photos from high school. Some were bright, others were more mellow. Most had a secret message attached, whether it was about emotional damage, abuse, or just pollution they all had some sort of meaning. You smiled as you picked up your old polaroid camera, a full container of film still inside of it. You turned the camera towards the mess and the flashed filled the dark apartment.

“It still works.”

You rushed into your shared bedroom with a new found excitement, you smiled at bucky and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hi doll.”

“Bucky look what I found.”

He noticed the excitement in your voice and adored these moods of yours. He took the camera in his hands and turned it side to side analyzing what you gave him.

“It’s a polaroid camera, it takes pictures and immediately prints them out. Like this.”

You snatched the pink camera and told Bucky to smile, you gave a small smile and the flash blinded him.

“That’s bright.”

You laughed as he blinked rapidly, the camera began to print and you grabbed the small photo and waved it in the air. After a few moments the cheesy grin appeared on the photo, Bucky looked at it in amazement. His eyes glanced over to you, then down your body. It was late and you had your lace gown on.

“Can I take one?”

You nodded and posed, your hands on your hips as you pretended to be a super hero. Bucky let of a hearty laugh and shook his head, he nodded over to the bed and you shuffled over there. You sat down and looked up at him for his instructions, what he did next surprised you. His thumb rubbed your lips gently before pushing past them into your mouth. You hummed in delight and swirled your tongue around the digit.

“Look up doll.”

You kept sucking on his thumb as you looked up at him through your lashes, the bright flash filled your vision.

“You look so pretty like this.”

He took his thumb out and shook the picture lightly. A soft moan left him as the photo began to appear, your pure eyes stared up at him through the photo. Your cheeks hallowed out and spit dribbling down his thumb. A sight of an angel.

“Angel, open your mouth again.”

You complied and waited patiently as he rid himself of his pants and underwear. His lower half was naked for your eyes, his member was leaking precum. The head was slightly red and his veins were bulging out, immediately your mouth began to water.

“Take me in your mouth.”

You leaned towards his body and licked a stripe. His breath shuttered and you trailed your fingers up his thighs and massaged his cock. You finally began to take in the tip, gagging as you pushed further. Your jaw adjusted to his size and you started sucking him off. His low moans and groans encouraged you, you took his balls in your hand and rubbed them softly.

The bright flash made you open your eyes and watch the film print, bucky looked down at you and caressed your face softly. His hand moved to your hair and balled up a fist of it, he pushed your head back until your lips touched his skin. Your gags and his moans filled the room, spit dripping down onto the bed and your lips.

“Your mouth feels so good, such a pretty girl.”

He began thrusting into your mouth and another flash over took your senses, your mouth was stuffed and your hair was a mess as Bucky continued to grip onto it.

“Just like that.”

His thrusts became more erratic, his cock throbbed in your mouth and the look on his face told that he was close. He pulled your mouth off his spit soaked cock, he pumped himself and russian curses left his lips.

“Tongue out, beautiful.”

You opened your mouth and let your tongue fall out, his salty seed was all your could taste as he came. His cum dribbled down your lips and was on your cheeks, another click of the camera and flash made you open your eyes. You licked your lips and savored the taste, Bucky took your lips on his and tasted himself. You pulled him down onto the bed and wrestled your way on top of him. You took the camera and photos out of his hand, you admired his work.

“These are... really dirty.”

He smiled and took the photo of your face dripping with his cum. His eye brows raised as he scanned it, he nibbled on his lip and his eyes returned back to you. Suddenly your back was on the bed and buck was on top of you.

“Let’s take some more, just for keep sake.”

You laughed and rubbed his arms.

“Better get started Sargent.”

Buck ripped off your lace gown and handed you the camera, his lips trailed down your body. He placed light kisses onto your breasts all the way to your inner thighs, he sucked sweet marks onto your thighs. They would definitely bruise but you didn’t mind, his tongue finally touched your center. He started licking like his life depended on, kitten licks onto your clit. His tongue delved into your dripping entrance, Your body began to quiver and a flash filled the room. His movements picked up and he slid into a finger, moving in and out of you. You moaned loud and began chanting his name and giving soft encouragements.

“Please James.”

He put your legs on his shoulders and his face was fully in between your legs. His nose brushed on your clit and he moved to suck on it, two more fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Let go for me, cum on my face.”

Your body filled with pleasure as the ball in your stomach took over you, your toes curled and your back arched. Your walls clenched around his fingers, soft whimpers left your lips as he took his fingers out. Bucky lifted his head finally from between your thighs, the sight was enough to make you cum again. His lips were pink and swollen, his jaw and face was covered in your juices and a smile made him glow.

“Smile, barnes”

He gave you a smirk and licked his lips as the flash clicked. You shook the film and eyes widened as you looked at the photo. You were definitely gonna look at these when he was off on missions.

——

Extra scene:

“Come on Buck.”

Bucky hurried to follow Steve and Sam, the three of them were at dinner. It was Bucks turn to pay so he grabbed his wallet from out of his pocket, he shuffled through and grabbed some money. As he pulled it out a photo slipped out and fell onto the ground, His eyes widened as Steve bent down to pick it up.

“Don’t look at that.”

Steve blushed furiously as he glanced down at his hands, immediately he closed his eyes and held out his hand for him to take it back. He mumbled a sorry and they both glanced at a clueless Sam, he looked up with a confused expression.

“What?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw , You were in for it when he got home.

two characters kissing for the first time is pretty dope but nothing beats the moment in which they realize they’re in love with each other but then having to pretend they aren’t out of fear of not being loved back. 

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 "𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 " 𝓲 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭

art by incaseyouart

warning(s): none

summary: after a complication for the past two summers of not being able to make it to Portorosso due to a money shortage, luca, now 15, and alberto, 16, haven't seen each other in 2 years. however, today is the day!

{ this is long grab a snack! and yes, the title is inspired by ribs from lorde :] }

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"time won't wait for you to grow up, ragazzo."

alberto's ex-father's words rung throughout his head as he sat at the table, a cup of coffee as dark as the night sky. that man was wrong, yet again. time felt so frozen all the time, stretching longer than it needed to be. like that toy thing luca had written to him about! a slonk-...slanka? slinky? slinky! time was a slinky when his beloved friend wasn't around. always stretching. but! he didn't have to worry about that anymore! not for the next few months!

the thought alone made alberto pat his feet on the wooden floor with excitement, practically vibrating in his chair with a cheesy grin on his face. he gulped down the rest of his coffee as massimo walked into the kitchen. the father was surprised to see his adoptive son already in the kitchen and cocked an eyebrow up. "alberto? che cos'è? what are you doing up so early?" massimo asked him, pouring himself the rest of the coffee alberto had saved for him.

"well, y'know, it's only one of the important days of my life." alberto remarked slyly as he set his mug down and looked up at his papa. "no biggie!" he smiled. the beefy man let out a deep chuckle at the boy's behavior. there was never a dull moment with him, was there? massimo took a seat at the chair across from alberto, setting his mug down.

"it's been forever, no? are you excited?" he asked with curiosity, looking down at him.

"of course!" alberto beamed slamming his hands on the table and standing up a bit from his seat. but he withdrew a little bit when a few doubts began to rear their ugly heads. "but, i guess-...i guess i'm also just a little bit worried?" he spoke as he began to fidget with his hands and space out, eyes glued to the floor.

"about?" massimo inquired. machiavelli perched herself on his shoulder and stretched before taking a catnap right then and there. alberto found himself at a loss for words. he brewed it all in his mind a little bit before coming up with what to say.

"i dunno uhh...what if he? expects more of me? after all this time? i mean pfft that brainiac is gaining all this knowledge about stars and the solar panels-"

"system?" massimo chortled.

"right. solar system. man, see, i don't know about any of that!" alberto facepalmed and let out a frustrated sigh. "i don't wanna seem like an idiot next to them two just because i didn't go to school with them. what if they think i'm lame?" alberto finished his rambling as his papa put a hand on his shoulder and caught his attention.

"mio dio, it's like you don't even remember your own people." massimo offered a gentle smile to the boy. "alberto, they are your friends. luca's been writing to you for over 2 years now and neither her mother or i raised giulia to think anyone was "lame". plus, you have learned. you didn't know how to write very well and you learned that, eh? you know how to fish, how to fix vespas. all of that was you." he poked a finger softly into his boy's chest and alberto stared down at it before looking back up at him. "don't underestimate yourself or others." he winked at him. alberto's frown faded into his regular smile and his eyes lit up like they usually were.

"you're right, papa. thanks!" alberto walked his mug over to the sink and eagerly washed it before turning back to his father. "you ready?" alberto asked as he tugged on his sandals.

"ready? ragazzo, i haven't even had my first sip-"

"yeah, yeah, yeah, we can put it in the stove and heat it up later, just c'mon! the train's coming soon!" alberto swept up his father's hand and yanked him out the door, slamming it behind them.

~~~

luca fiddled with the seashell bracelet that was taped to a letter alberto sent once. it's become a nervous habit at this point. he doesn't take it off. ever. not even in the shower. the redhead across from him snapped in front of his face and luca jumped. "get out of your head, luca. he's gonna be thrilled to see you." giulia said placing her arm back on the armrest of the train seat. luca gave a nervous smile.

"i know! i just...hope doesn't hate me for how long it's been." he pouted looking down at his thumbs.

"that's ridiculous! alberto knows about the money situation, it's not like you didn't want to see him. you just...couldn't." giulia offered words of comfort to her worried friend. before looking out the window. "santa mozzarella! we're here!" giulia jumped up and pointed out the window making luca's head jerk.

"we are? we are!" luca jumped up and the two of them cheered and hollered, getting looks and glares from fellow passengers. once luca looked around, he let out a bashful laugh and sat back down, turning bright red with embarrassment. giulia snorted at him, her red curls bouncing as she tried to hold in her laughter.

the train came to a slow stop and the brunette watched anxiously as passengers filed out of the train frantically. giulia looked over at her friend. after living with him for so long, she knew luca like the back of her hand. she could see the fearful glint in his eyes, the beads of sweat that decorated his pale skin. he was a nervous mess. she sighed and took one of his sweaty hands in hers, giving him a reassuring look. luca smiled and took a deep breath before they hopped off the train. "okaaay, they have to be here somewhere..." giulia trailed off, squinting and scanning around the station before gasping. "PAPAAA! ALBERTO!" giulia ran off from luca leaving him astounded. and at the mention of his name, his heartbeat picked up and all the fear had washed from his body. he realized he was here, he was tangible, he was gonna see him and be able to touch him and play with him and laugh with him and-

"LUCA? LUCA?!?!"

luca's heart stopped and a wave of emotion overcame him as the tanned, freckled boy was looking for him amongst the crowd with worry. he looked worried, breathing picking up a little as if luca wouldn't be there. always thinking about him, always caring about him. the schoolboy's feet began to race towards him before he could even think.

"ALBERTO!!" luca exclaimed, his voice cracking and echoing throughout the portorosso train station, watery eyes blurring his vision. nevertheless, alberto couldn't have been any more clearer in that moment. alberto's head jerked towards the familiar friend's voice and the breath left his body as he smiled with joy despite the boiling feeling in his excited jade eyes. he laughed for luca to hear and opened his arms as luca jumped into them with a happy whimper and the two of them spun with the force of the impact. laughing, crying, clinging onto each other for dear life as if they would disappear if they let go.

"i missed you so much i missed you so much i missed you so much-!!" alberto repeated with a smile as bright as the coral reef, tears running down his cheeks as he pet behind the other boy's head.

"i missed you too, alberto, i'm so sorry!" he apologized as if it was his fault and wiped his tears on the strap of his yellow tank. the smell of it felt like home. he felt like home.

they laughed until their ribs hurt.

~~~

after a long day of catching up, visiting luca's family underwater, and getting back to were they started from, the two boys, giulia, and massimo were eating the father's classic, 'trenette al pesto'.

"mother of pearl, i missed this food!" luca swooned as he ate his last bite and slouched back, patting his stomach and letting out a tiny burp. everyone at the table giggled as luca covered his mouth and murmured an apology.

"pretty good...but alberto scorfano-marcovaldo can do better." the fisherboy bragged before shoving the pasta into his mouth with his hands, acting almost animalistic as everyone watched and giulia cringed. he took a big gulp before letting out a big belch and sighing with satisfaction. luca 'woah'ed at him in amazement, not knowing that was even possible.

"blegh! ever learn about manners, fish-head?" giulia scowled at her brother. alberto crossed his arms and blew raspberries at her. "so as i was saying, papa, the teacher let me look through this huge telescope and-!" luca had zoned out on giulia's story-telling when a 'psst' from next to him made him turn his head.

"andiamo, luca. i have something to show ya." alberto told the boy as he looked at him, the antsy vibe emitting from his tall figure. luca's curiosity got the better of him and he gave a smile before nodding. "well, this has been fun but if you'll excuse us!" alberto took luca by the hand and whisked him away to giulia's window. he let go of his hand and pushed the window open before pointing to the previous hideout, now official treehouse. "look familiar? eh?" alberto asked with a hand on his hip.

"woah-ho-ho! but how-? it was so...tiny!" luca said waving his hands at the now actual treehouse.

"keyword 'was' , mio amico! massimo and i spruced up the place. gave it a roof and four walls." alberto looked at his nails pretending to look cool. "but the inside is where it's at! c'mon!" alberto carelessly ran across the planks, almost slipping in the process but landing on the houses surface, letting out a sheepish laugh. luca rolled his eyes with a smile and carefully walked across, helping the boy up in the process. alberto stood in front of the door before opening it slowly for suspense. "this is where the magic happens." alberto smirked with a cool nod.

luca took in the sights of this space before him. the room was painted baby blue, a purple lightbulb in a lantern on a nightstand next to the twin-sized bed illuminating the room, along with fairy lights draped on every corner. every one of luca's drawings he'd sent and some of his own were hung up on the wall next to his bed.

"wow..." luca's lips were parted so perfectly in that moment. alberto couldn't help but stare a little bit before shaking his head and muttering a 'silenzio, bruno'

"isn't it cool? massimo helped me with the painting and the lights. it wasn't easy, trust me. machiavelli knocked over the paint can..." alberto grimaced at the end, pointing to a corner of the floor with some spilled paint. luca snickered, imagining alberto of all people trying to get along with a cat, machiavelli, for that matter. he flopped onto the bed and looked at a square-shaped hole. alberto flopped next to him and they both looked up.

"what's that hole in the ceiling?" luca asked pointing at it and looking at him.

"oh! my sunroof!" alberto answered pointing up along with him. "massimo built it from me because-!..." alberto's usually glow trailed off.

"....because?" luca propped himself up on his elbow to look at him.

"n-nevermind! i don't remember what i was gonna say. lost my train of thought, you know how it is." alberto brushed it off. luca was not one to let things go. and he could definitely tell when his dear alberto was lying. he looked...embarrassed?

"i'm not stupid, alberto. because what?" he asked shaking his arm. alberto looked away from him and turned on his side.

"it was nothing! honest!" alberto tried once more to usher the boy away.

"per favore! albertooo, you can't just do th-"

"becausethestarsremindmeofyou." alberto squeezed his eyes shut tight and blurted everything out. luca was taken aback by his response ad his heart grew wings. he stared at the boy who's embarrassment was so prevalent on his face. a groan escaped his lips and he covered his face. "why did i say that?! sorry, luca, that was kinda weir-" alberto was cut off by two hands gently but suddenly grasping onto his wrists and slowly pulling them away from his face. and there he was. right in front of him with a dazed expression, dumbfounded and all. his cioccolata curls adorned his forehead and swayed along with the warm, sea-salty italian breeze in the room from the open sunroof. his eyes were darting across his face, making him feel so vulnerable in that moment. "l-luc-?"

"is that true?" he asked him, losing all concepts of personal space and a good 2 inches away from the boys face. there was nowhere to look except for each other's eyes. the sea monster's hearts beat in sync, the electricity between them exchanging with one another. alberto took a shaky inhale before speaking up again.

"yeah. you remind me of the stars. i think i'm gonna throw up later thinking i even let this come out of my mouth but...even on my darkest days, all i have to do is think about when we met, or your laugh, or the way you look at gelato!" he chuckled nervously. "and...and everything is brighter, y'know? i don't feel so scared or lonely anymore." alberto finished.

luca's stomach was bubbling. with what? he couldn't tell you. butterflies? anchovies? vomit? whatever it was, it was so sickeningly sweet, you could almost smell it in the air. even if it was the bakery making the next batches for tomorrow, the smell wafting throughout the room. nothing was sweeter then an all-walls-down alberto. the pair couldn't stop staring at each other, treasuring the fact that they were now as they once were before. together.

"alberto?"

"yes?"

"do you know what love is?"

"..."

"..."

"i think so. is that what your mom-"

"and my dad are in? yeah..."

"..."

"..."

"...do you uh...love me? luca?"

"does love feel like anchovies swimming around in your stomach all the time?"

"hm. that's what i feel when i look at the stars so...yes?-"

"yes." luca's never been so quick to reply or be so sure of something in his life.

"huh?"

"i love you."

hearing that. hearing luca say it. everything he felt fell into place. he felt like he could fly all of a sudden

"me too, luca." a warm smile made itself known on his freckled face. luca smiled back and pressed his nose against his, the both of them breaking out into an awkward laughing session to ease the romantic tension. what a lame feeling to love. luca looked over at alberto, the boy still laughing.

"can i...try something? miss marcovaldo watches people who love each other on tv and i've seen them do it. i wondered if maybe i could try it?" luca twiddled with his fingers. a blush plagued alberto's cheeks as he knew what he was talking about. he nearly fell off the bed.

"k-kiss?!" alberto said a little too loudly before covering his mouth.

"is it bad? mi dispiace!! i-i don't know what i was thinking, it was way too fast and way too out of the blue i mean it's not like you'd want to do that, and i shouldn't have assumed-!!" alberto couldn't stand seeing the boy doubting himself anymore. he sat up on the bed, holding the boy's hands and ignoring the pounding in his heart, he swiftly captured the boy's lips in a small peck. luca finally shut up, covering his mouth, the feeling lingering before gripping alberto's hands tighter.

"again?"

without hesitation, alberto cupped the boy's cheeks and truly, truly kissed him. no doubts. no fears. lost in each other's seas as hands were held and puppy love transpired.

but they could never get enough of each other.

that will never be enough.

“enemies to lovers” this and “friends to lovers” that bitch where is my childhood rivals to attempted friendship to enemies to enemies with a forced alliance to grudging mutual respect to growing affection to friends to friends with benefits with mutual pining to lovers

sh. | ot7 | chapter six

PAIRING ot7 x reader

RATING Explicit.

GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers.

SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

WC 3.8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS themes of exhibitionism. fingering. unprotected sex. creampie. sensitivity during sex. dirty talk.

AN: I have been stuck at this impasse of what's going to happen next for literal mONTHS and somehow in the span of one week I got the ball rolling again. Thank you to the incredible support you all have shown. I am so grateful for each of you. You bring a light to my writing.

Thanks to @lcksndkys and Calix for helping me waddle through my thoughts and to reach the finish line on this chapter. Much love to @jinpanman and @thatlongspringnight too, just for being incredible.

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©️ wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

Chapter Six

Present day.

“Something like this doesn’t need to be so extraneously complicated.”

Yoongi’s words spiral in your mind as Taehyung graciously picks up your breakfast dishes from your hand and you smile absently.

The images whirl in your mind. Seven friends, fucking. Unacceptable, some snotty voice in your head chides you, a voice you quickly shove aside. After all, it’s the 21st century. Emotional intelligence on the rise. Sexual education at its height. Self control… at it’s very lowest.

Back in January you would have run screaming for the hills. And that impulse, well, it’s definitely still there. But all there is to do is recognize it, take a deep breath, and instead of letting the panic take over, try to act from the place in your chest that feels safe and secure. The place in your chest that wants this.

The place that wants this: Your friends. Fucking. But a fluttering in your chest reminds you: it’s not just the sex. Well, it is. Undeniably so. But it’s also something more — you trip over the unspoken words in your mind — it's something about wanting them all closer. What is the word?

“You and Jungkook are on kitchen duty this morning,” Taehyung says as he fills up one of the huge kitchen sinks with warm soapy water, and you snap out of the forest of your thoughts.

You scoff. “I was on kitchen duty like, two days ago!”

“You might be surprised to know that two days later, it is again your turn.”

You huff. “Fine.” Dish duty was always your least favorite of all housework. But the reason things worked so smoothly around here in the first place was that you had all sorted out responsibilities, roles, and communication. The only way it worked was by sticking to that. With a grimace, you roll up your sleeves and prepare to dive into the soapy lukewarm water.

“I can do that,” Jungkook says from behind you, and before you can respond, he gently hip checks you to the side and snatches the sudsy sponge away.

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” He nods at the drying rack. “You can dry. I know you like it better anyway.”

This morning’s feast has produced an abundance of dishes - but even with that, you’re sure that Jimin and Jin used every single bowl in the very large kitchen to measure out each ingredient individually. It takes a bit of time before the kitchen is sparkling clean once more.

“Thanks for your help,” Jungkook smiles, some kind of shyness playing in his gaze. You stare a moment too long, trying to catch the elusive thought dancing behind his eyes. As you’re reaching up to put a mug on a counter, he bends down to wipe a comically large sudsy bubble off of the floor and looks up and he freezes.

“You-you’re not wearing…?”

You laugh. “I’m not.” He stands slowly.

“Why—?” Curiosity sings in those doe eyes.

“Jimin asked me not to. It’s a little game we’re playing.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “You’ll do anything he says, huh.”

“Not anything,” you say, running a finger up his chest. “But a good amount of it, yes. Wouldn’t you? Didn’t you?”

Even as he speaks, his ears redden and he tugs at one, eliciting a bubbling laugh from you. “I did.” He leans close as if he’s going to tell you a secret. “And I loved it.” He grins and then pauses, taking a moment to gage your expression. Your cheeks are already warm from his prying gaze and the mention of last night’s activities. He leans in close. “You like being told what to do.”

“I do.”

His breath catches in his throat. He hesitates and you let him. Let him take his time.

“Will you let me tell you what to do?”

You love his duality. It might seem surprising or even incongruous at first, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. There is something about his desire to simultaneously be cared for as the object of someone else’s desire and to indulge his own drive to play the game and be the spark that ignites your falling apart, to be the thing that drives you towards the edge again and again. You nod.

“Then turn around.” His voice has dropped lower. “Before anyone catches us.”

You do as he says, turning, arching your back just enough, and presenting your ass to him. Your hands rest firm on the counter. He bends down behind you, and before you know it you’re gasping as he licks a broad stripe up your pussy.

“Are you already this wet or are you still leaking all the cum Jimin stuffed you with?” The double edged sword of his meaning strikes straight through you.

“Why don’t you find out?”

You love the boldness that rises confidently to the surface under Jungkook’s careful but greedy hand. The untethered desire that slips from your tongue like water. How, despite everything spinning in your head, your friend finds a way to dive beneath it and serve delight. Jungkook too, seems to love it, as his eyes darken and drift over your body.

“I haven’t swallowed enough of Jimin’s cum to be able to tell quite yet,” he says casually.

“We’ll have to rectify that then.”

“We will.”

Jungkook slowly works a finger into you. Then two, the long digits stretching you. You do your best to keep your sounds of pleasure to the level of a contained whisper, but you can’t help the gasp that slips from you as he presses against your g-spot and a deep ache of bliss spreads through your abdomen.

“Shit,” you hiss, clenching your teeth and letting your nails dig into your palm.

“Such a needy little brat,” Jungkook says as he begins to draw circles around your clit. “Jimin lets you orgasm once and now all of a sudden you can’t get enough.”

He adds more pressure to his movements and suddenly the biting retort that had sprung to mind dies on your tongue.

“What? Nothing to say?” You can hear the smirk in his words, even as you squeeze your eyes shut, hissing in pleasure, trying to get your footing again. “I’m starting to think you’ve had enough. How much can you take, really? I wouldn’t want to push you too far.” He pulls his fingers from you and you gasp.

“No—”

You spin around, your shirt falling back down around you again. Jungkook stands back, his eyes dark and hungry. You reach for him, grabbing his shirt to pull him against you.

You press your lips against his and he stills in surprise. His surprise stings through you like ice, slowing your motions, adding a question, a doubt, a — but then he’s kissing you back, kissing you with the fullness of resounding and final punctuation. There’s no room for question in the way his hands twine into your hair, teeth nipping, tongues wrestling. Within a minute, you’re out of breath.

“I can take you, I promise,” you murmur against his lips. “Please, Jungkook.”

“How could I deny you?” he whispers back. There’s a softness to his voice that you don’t quite recognize. A softness that leaves you thirsty for more.

He motions for you to hop up on the counter and with a skilled movement, helps you up. The bare and heated flesh of your bottom hits the cool granite, but the shock is quickly forgotten though as he slides between your legs, a large tattooed hand pressing your thighs wider for him. Bare for him.

“You really want this?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him as tight to you as you can.

“I really want this — you.”

With a swift movement, he pulls himself from his pajama pants and slots his cock against your sopping entrance. As you wiggle against him and try to pull him into you, he raises an eyebrow.

“One of these days I’m going to make you beg for it, you know that, right?”

“Another day?” You grimace at the whine that slips into your voice, but he chuckles at it.

“I like when you’re needy.”

And then he slams into you, his cockhead spearing through your wet folds in one go.

“Ah!” Your head falls back and a cry of pleasure spills from your lips before you can bite it back.

“Feel good?” He begins thrusting in and out of you and you have to grit your teeth to answer.

“Incredible.”

He grins.

“Good.”

Your previous two encounters with Jungkook had been fast. Needy. It was a race though, the two of you sprinting neck and neck towards the same end goal: release.

But today, the race is long over and you find yourself on a different trail. One where you can simply sink into your own pleasure. You relish in the sensation of his cockhead dragging against your walls. You let your breath move quickly and heavily, brushing against his shoulder as you pant. There’s not necessarily anything particularly graceful about this fuck, but it’s easier.

Delight fogs through your body as he hits all the right spots, his hips rolling against yours. You glide your hand beneath the collar of his t-shirt, fingers splaying against his warming skin. You love the way his breath catches in his throat when you squeeze around him and before you know it, both of you are edging your orgasms.

“Just,” Jungkook breathes heavily, “Slow. For a minute. We don’t have to rush.”

“Good—” you say, a kiss fluttering against his lips. “Yes—ah—” He chuckles at your inability to pull together a sentence.

His hand comes down to grip your hip and he moves you to his will, setting a slower, deeper pace. You find his pace and push against it, against him, your breaths tangling. This close, his pelvic bone presses against your clit and you grind yourself slowly against it.

A different kind of pleasure builds in your abdomen. One stoked slowly, carefully, tenderly. It builds to a height that quickness could not reach, it teases you at the edge of its altitude.

“Jungkook—” you gasp. “So close.”

“Good. Keep going.” His grip on you loosens enough to allow you to move freely against him, but stays firm enough to feel like you are so wrapped up in him you wouldn’t know where to begin to untangle yourself.

Your orgasm washes over you with a kind of warmth that is entirely foreign to you. Your breath stills in your throat as it seizes you, freezing you in its hold. Jungkook coos at you, pretty words falling from his lips and drifting somewhere towards your subconscious as you ride it out and finally collapse into his arms, your arms pulling him into a hug as you pant against him.

“Well fuck — that was ho—”

The last syllable is choked out of him as you grind your hips against him again.

“Want you to cum,” you say, your movements sloppy but determined in your post-orgasm bliss.

“Oh?” Jungkook thrusts once into you. Still sensitive, you wince at the overwhelm. “And I thought you needed a minute to recover.”

“No—”

“No?”

“No.”

“So good for me.” You can hear the smile in his voice and the tension that you draw from him too, the way it laces through his voice with urgency. He’s barely holding himself together as you grind against him.

You can tell he’s getting close. His pace picks up, his forehead pressing in concentration, his face tightening in focused pleasure. “You know…I still haven’t cum in this pretty pussy.”

“Well, technically—” you begin to say, thinking of Jimin’s fingers last night scooping up Jungkook’s still-hot cum and filling your cunt with it. The way it had spilled down your leg as you walked back to your bedroom.

“Sh, just—”

“Yes. Do it. Cum inside me.”

That’s all he needed to hear. With a shuddering gasp, he presses himself tightly against you, a hand coming to cradle your head, the other pressing firmly against your back. He presses himself as far into you as he can possibly manage and cums, his cock twitching within you as he groans.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, his voice graveled.

“You sound rough,” you laugh breathily, tucking a piece of long, dark hair behind his ear as he recovers. He looks up at you, those large, round eyes too pretty for the deed he just committed.

He lets loose a long, shaky breath, one that turns to a laugh as he watches the smile bloom on your face. “What the fuck did we just do?” he says.

“We just fucked in the kitchen.”

“A second time.”

“A second time indeed.”

“What, you got a kitchen kink or something?” he smiles.

“If anything it’s a communal kink. A communal kink for communal spaces.”

“Really, if anything you’ve got a bit of an exhibitionist streak. Undeniably so.”

The heat that pours into your face doesn’t make sense when paired with your unabashed attitude about the act you and Jungkook just accomplished on the kitchen counter. “Maybe,” you say, tucking your head beneath his chin, pressing your lips to the little dip beneath his adam’s apple. “And so what if I do?”

“Then I would want to take every opportunity to explore just how far that specific interest of yours is able to take you,” he says. “How far it would push you, uh, us.” You can only imagine what he’s thinking of. “You know, as this keeps—” He pauses for a moment. Searching for the word. “Moving forward.”

Forward? Something in your chest stills and freezes. Whispers, run.

Your breath, too, turns to ice in your throat. Jungkook notices the shift in your countenance and brings his hand up to your arm, kneading the flesh softly.

But you’re quick. You know what to do when this happens. Even as the song of old fear sings in your veins, you know it has very little — if anything at all — to do with the man standing in front of you, the way he makes you feel, and the things that the two of you are — deliciously — doing together. So you look at it. Look at the fear that won’t quit. Know that it’s old, a visitor from the past, and take a deep breath.

Then another.

Then you press a kiss to the hard shell of his collarbone, just as you wanted to do, feeling the warmth of his body sink through your skin into yours, warming the freezing bits into something human, something present again.

“Forward?” you manage to say, breathe in, breathe out.

“Forward, yeah,” Jungkook says, letting his short nails skate up your skin and tangle into the back of your hair, raising goosebumps to your skin. “Forward. With us. This.”

“Jungkook,” you murmur as you kiss up his neck. “I don’t know what this is.”

“Do you need to?”

The answer comes automatically. “Yes.”

“I’m not sure you do.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Well. Then, tell me. Do you want this to stop?"

In, out. It’s easier to breathe with his hands running over your body. With his presence so close to yours, his strange, calming individuality singing even in the silence. You know this. You want this.

"...No."

"Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, his hands still roving in lazy patterns over your body. “So then, whatever this is, does it need a name?"

You flounder. That's not what he's supposed to say. He’s supposed to push you. To ask more of you. Right? That’s how this kind of thing always goes. DTR: define the relationship. Give it a name. Put it in a box, like every other one of your previous relationships. Act by the script, because with each label there is a preordained script that everyone is supposed to follow. But without the name, what is left? The gap left by the question swallows you up. But it also promises something else: freedom. A loosened chain around your heart.

"What—" you shake your head. "What do you mean?"

"If you don't know what this is, that’s okay. If you don’t know exactly what you want, that's okay. You don't NEED to know what you want, especially not a month, six months, a year from now. You just need to know if you want this — me — right now."

You do want him. That’s undeniable. Looking at him, it’s almost impossible to manage all the different ways you want him. His softness, wrapped around you. His compassion, leading you forward. His unrivaled energy, like some furious and kind beast, always waiting around the corner with a new adventure. And not just all of the little pieces, but the whole too. You want Jungkook.

“I do, I do, Jungkook,” you say. And then you press in, letting yourself kiss him, a frown of confusion tugging at your lips. He can feel it. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“That’s okay,” he whispers. “I can explain what I mean. If I am what you want right now, if Jimin is what you want, hell, whoever — then take it. It’s okay for you to want like this. And when that want stops or it changes or it grows into something else, that’s okay too. Just… tell us.”

You swallow. Why is it that his kindness, his understanding feels like it’s ripping you open? It’s not as if what he’s saying is particularly new to you. It’s just that your history has held such rigidness, such control, that the airy taste of flexibility before you feels an awful lot like fear. But with Jungkook’s earnest eyes shining down on you, you know it can’t be fear. It has to be you, standing on the precipice of the unknown, knowing nothing before you but the next step: your own desire. And you’ve been doing it, letting yourself open up to it.

But when was the last time the world opened up to you too?

“What I’m saying is,” Jungkook continues, “I don’t need a name for this. I just know I like you and I really like cumming in that pretty pussy of yours and — if you’ll let me — I’d like to keep doing that.”

“Cumming in my pretty pussy?”

“Yeah. And maybe your ass sometime. Or down your throat. Or on your face. Or—”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh. “I get the picture.”

He takes a long look at you.

“What’s going through your head? You seem… concerned.”

You smile softly. “Am I that easy to read?” He nods, laughing, then lets you continue. “Well, then. I should… I should talk to Hobi. About, um,” you gesture between the two of you. “This.”

“Why?” He leans in close. “You wanna fuck him too?”

The question strikes something in your chest and you feel the blood rush to your face. For a split second, you let yourself imagine it: fucking Hoseok. How would he look, fucked-out? Would he be gentle? Intentional? Furious and fast and full of desire? But no. No, you have to stop yourself there, before thinking of these things turns to wanting them (although a small voice in the back of your mind warns you that you’re already there). Hoseok had already made his interest — or lack thereof — clear to you.

Jungkook notices your gaze shift and nudges you.

“It’s okay if you do. I guess, this is exactly what Yoongi meant when he said think about it. Right? But also—” Jungkook runs a hand through his dark hair, pressing his lips together as he thinks of the right words to say. “I know you two are close, but you don’t owe him any explanation of your sex life—” He chuckles, “Now that you have a sex life.”

You shove him lightly. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know. It just feels… right. Like I’ve been keeping a secret from him.”

“Well, you’re not.”

“I know,” you say, even as the words feel like a lie on your tongue. “Do you know where he might be? At this pace I’ll find him by dinner time.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw him heading with Namjoon towards the library. Namjoon said he wanted to show him some new collection he discovered.”

“There’s a library?” Jungkook nods. “Of course there’s a library.”

“Not surprised you didn’t notice. You been spending too much time fucking me — or eyefucking one of our other friends. But I really shouldn’t complain about that.”

You scoff. Shove him a little. Brush your hair out of your face and stand.

“Well — thanks, dickhead.”

“You’re welcome, love bird.”

You startle a little at the softness of the nickname and look at Jungkook. His ears are reddened.

“That’s a new one. Usually it’s asshole or—”

He recovers quickly. “Well until you let me fuck your asshole or we find a strap-on for you to fuck mine, we’ll leave it at love bird.”

“Hmm. I like it,” you say, smile spreading across your features and you reach out to pinch his cheek. “I guess I’ll have to think of something sweeter for you than dickhead, huh?”

“Dickhead is fine. At least it means you’re thinking about something important.”

“Oh my god, I can’t with you!” you laugh. “Well, thanks. Really.” You reach out for him, a hand lingering perhaps a moment too long on his arm before turning towards the dark hallway where Jungkook pointed you, and you trip over nothing, giggling as you catch your step.

“You’re blind, you know!” Jungkook calls after you, laughing.

“Shut up! Stop saying that!”

Jungkook watches you as you leave. You’re always too quick to leave, aren’t you? he thinks, the taste of something like bitterness flickering in his mind. As he watches you round the corner, all he can imagine is the image of running after you, pulling you back into his arms, and fucking you silly until the sound of you screaming his name finally slips through the impossibly thick walls of the mansion.. Until everyone in the house knows exactly what you’ve been doing almost every day of the past week. Who you’ve been doing. The thought almost makes him laugh at the ridiculousness.

He shakes his head, a failed attempt to clear the build up of words, of things he’s not quite sure how to say to you, burning at the tip of his tongue. “Get your shit together, man.”

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THANK YOU FOR READING!

→ liked what you read? want to chat about the characters, story, and series? → want to read more?

do you like fictional relationships because it’s cute or because you have a romanticized version of life and you’ve never really been loved by anyone before and you’re desperate to be so recklessly in love that everybody get sick just looking at you and your soulmate and now you’re living vicariously through a fictional character’s life just to feel something and there’s this frightening feeling building up inside you of but what if I don’t ever get to experience being loved like that and you don’t know just what went wrong in your life for you to be jealous over fictional characters

listen I don’t discriminate... friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, friends to enemies to lovers, as long as it ends in lovers i’m down with it all babey

what's your fanfic life like? 

Heatwave (M)

Pairing: roommate!Taehyung x reader 

Summary: When your town is hit with a heatwave, and the air conditioning at your shared place coincidentally malfunctions, you start to go a little crazy at your shit luck because there’s nothing you hate more than clammy pits, while Taehyung goes a little crazy thinking you’re trying to seduce him with your tiny shorts and popsicle-sucking skills.

Genre: roommate au, friends to lovers au (f2l), smut, angst if you squint, attempt at sparse crack

Warnings: language (I have a potty mouth sorry), penetrative sex, dom!Taehyung, brat!OC, daddy kink, rough sex, oral (f receiving), slight slight degradation if you’re being pedantic, orgasm denial, Taehyung’s scary duality, oc and Taehyung being thick and dumb af

Word count: 12k... :0

A/N: Herro, this is my first ever oneshot which was originally meant to be a quick 5k max smut, but I just kept adding plot and backstory and now I birthed this big fella… So I hope you like it because it took me some time to finish and I enjoyed writing it a lot. Please leave me some feedback so I can kickstart this writing blog. :3

PS. This is written about 190623 Taehyung cos that is my ult right there.

Sequel: Godless

[Drabble Masterlist]

.

‘Oh you’ve got to be fucking with me, not this one too!’

You aggressively jab at the power button of the air conditioning remote another five times before smacking the controller against the flat of your palm in frustration. When it still refuses to switch on, you let out a bellow of rage and hurl the wretched thing at the sofa.

This can not be happening…

It is currently the middle of May and your town is experiencing a severe heatwave, a record-breaking one for that matter, which is plastered on the headlines of every news outlet. Temperature peaking at a whopping 38˚C, it is the hottest it’s ever been in this 20 mile radius, knocking the astounding 37˚C from 1971 off its podium. Must be doing wonders for ice cream sales and nightmares for electrical bills because there is simply no way anyone can survive this unbearable heat without all the cooling help they can get.

Some people may happily welcome the heat, seeing as your town rarely gets to see even a peak of sun, but those people must also be sick and twisted and the same people who pour in their milk before cereal.

How anyone could possibly tolerate sweat in every single crevice, hair sticking to the back of their necks, stuffy air stinking of B.O. is simply beyond the scopes of your understanding. It would honestly take a masochistic psychopath to enjoy this weather. And that is why, without a single doubt, you prefer the cold. See, with the cold, you can easily warm yourself up by adding more layers; you don’t even necessarily have to turn the radiator on, just grab a cozy blanket and snuggle up in bed with a mug of warm beverage of your choice. But the heat? You can be just sitting there, legs dipped in the pool, not moving a single muscle, naked even, and you will still be melting down to your bones from the overwhelming warmth.

So the fact that every single air conditioner of your house has precisely chosen this very moment to malfunction is really the cherry on top, isn’t it? Fan-fucking-tabulous. Not to mention that it’s exam season, so how on earth are you supposed to revise when all you can focus on is your clammy knee pit?

This is so typical, so on brand for every single inconvenience to magically fall onto your lap. Ever since the ripe age of eleven, you’ve been cursed with bad luck when a pigeon shat on your head the day of your primary school graduation; you still shudder every time your finger brushes the spot on your scalp where that revolting greenish sludge landed, the sickening splat echoing in your ears. Thus marking the beginning of your ill-fortuned fate which only got worse from there.

You quickly pull out your phone, its cool surface providing you with temporary relief, and begin dialling Taehyung’s number. As usual, he picks up after the fourth ring. ‘You won’t believe it.’

‘What?’ His breath is slightly heavier than usual, which confirms that he’s indeed walking back home from his maths workshop right now just as you guessed.

‘The fucking AC decided to stop working.’ You grit out. ‘All of them.’

The line goes silent for a second. ‘Oh fuck.’ He groans. You distinctly hear him running his hand through his hair out of habit, no doubt making it stick out to the side funnily without himself noticing.

‘I feel like I’m burning in seven hells. I’ve opened all the windows but it's blowing hot air inside, hot air, Taehyung, like air that is hot to the touch. What the fuck? Please tell me you’ve got the number of the electrician.’ A bead of sweat begins to trickle down your forehead and you violently wipe it away, its wet residue stirring a pit of disgust in your gut, your blood on the brink of boiling.

‘Hmm… Uh, let me think…’

‘Taehyung. Tell. Me. You’ve. Got. The. Number. Of. The. Electrician.’ At this point, you are even scaring yourself. There are three instances where someone should never mess with you: when you’re hungry, sleep-deprived or sweltering hot. Any moment now, the beast will jump out and devour your sanity, ripping it to shreds along with your will to live.

‘Um.’ Taehyung gulps. ‘I’m sure I jotted it down on a piece of paper somewhere, I’ll find it when I get back.’

‘If we accidentally threw it out, I swear to-’

‘I promise, it’s at home somewhere.’ He quickly cuts you off, and you can’t tell whether it’s because he’s overly optimistic or just saying that to evade your wrath.

Realising that you’ve been pacing anxiously around the room, which is only making you sweat more, you decide to rest on the couch. However, just as you plonk down, your bum is painfully met with a hard object, causing you to yelp out. This god-damn cursed air con remote! You furiously yank it from under you and almost throw it against the wall before remembering that you probably don’t want to break the stupid thing even more. ‘Fine. I’m sorry, you know how I get with the heat.’

Taehyung chuckles, the sound easing your animal of a temper slightly. ‘Yes, I know. But hey, don’t worry, I’ll stop by the store and grab some ice lollies, okay, diva?’

At that, you smile knowing you made the right choice of flatmate.

.

It’s a weird kind of funny story how the two of you came to living together actually. 

On a regular night out, one of your many drunken escapades that you’ll be proudly telling your grandchildren about, you had miraculously yet also unsurprisingly lost your group of girlfriends you’d gone out with. Three-drink-Y/N has a bad case of wandering-feet-syndrome, and that night it was at its worse as you later learned that you had wound up in a different club from everyone else.

There you were, slightly tipsy, collecting free drinks by the bar from all-too-eager men who were oblivious to how you were tactfully avoiding their advances and slipping from one to the next, when an argument perked your ears. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted two guys yelling at each other beside the dance floor, a crowd already starting to huddle around them in anticipation. Just as you managed to writhe your way over to get better a better look of the commotion, ever the nosy bitch you are, the lankier guy of the two swung at the other with surprising force for his diffident stature. Blood splattered across your face as you hear the sickening crunch of a broken nose. Before you could even register the disgust, a full on brawl broke out right in front of you, fists flying in all directions and the crowd chanting them on.

In the thick of the chaos, an overly excited buffoon behind you accidentally shoved you into the midst of the fight, and someone’s fingers wound up caught in your long hair mid-swing, yanking your head in the direction of the punch. Your head collided with another, but you didn’t feel the pain due to your inebriated state, only a loud clang ringing in your ears. Within seconds, a large arm was dragging you away by the waist, and you let them because your head was heavy and vision blurry. When you finally gained some notion of what was going on, you were being tossed out of the club by the bouncer, ass thudding on the ground. You hadn’t even a chance to explain yourself before the backdoor was slammed in your face.

The pigeon-shit luck of yours.

‘Are you okay?’ A male voice behind you said, causing you to spin around in alarm to face him. ‘Oh my god, there’s blood all over your face! Did I accidentally hit you? Oh my fucking god, I’m so so sorry.’

He was sitting against the wall of the alleyway you were both thrown out into, arms crossed, lip cracked, bruise forming on his cheek in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive. Except it was. Even under the dim light, you couldn’t miss how undeniably good looking he was, the kind that kicked the breath out of you just from first glance. And you almost wanted to go back into the club just to beat up whoever that punk was that dared to lift a finger on such a gorgeous face.

Why hello. Where had you been all night before you had gotten in a fight?

But then you met his stare. He was a whole walking oxymoron: eyes soft, round and melted milk chocolate, completely juxtaposing the painful brownish-purple blooming across his temple and the angry red leaking from the corner of his mouth. Only then did you notice how soft his tone had been, something you had not expected after seeing him pack such a powerful punch.

‘Oh! Um- No, no, that isn’t my blood. And you didn’t hit me, don’t worry, you just kinda… uhh… accidentally pull my hair and made me hit my head.’ You saw the sheer panic and guilt flare in his eyes. ‘Don’t worry, don’t worry. I didn’t even feel it, it doesn’t hurt I swear.’

But just as those words left your mouth, you felt a throbbing pain emerging at the corner of your forehead as if the thought alone had summoned the hammering pulse. You subtly tried to rub it to see if a lump was forming. Well, that’s definitely going to look great for your job interview in two days…

‘Oh, right. That explains why I’ve got hair all over me.’ He winced as he lifted up his fistful of your hair and scratched the back of his head apologetically. ‘Honestly, I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t even realise you were there…’ He started going off on a ramble that you zoned out from until it was a mere buzz.

This guy… was a fucking enigma, and it was confusing the shit out of you.

Despite the fact that you had just witness him break someone’s nose. there was something so puppy-like about the way he was looking at you, something so innocent and likeable. And you truly could not wrap your head around it. He looked like he could ruin your life, with his tousled hair and piercing intimidation, yet as soon as he opened his mouth all that exuded from him was a cute heartwarming type of boyishness. You didn’t have it in you to muster even an ounce of anger towards him, you just possibly couldn’t, even though he technically did drag you into the fight. Literally, by the hair.

‘Here, you can yank out some of mine too if you want.’

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh, but when you found him staring blankly at you with his round eyes and Pingu-pout, you realised that he was being serious. ‘No! It’s fine, please don’t… I’m okay, I’m okay.’ Your stutter must have heard how nervous he was making you because it was making an unwelcomed appearance. ‘I’ve had shittier nights, er, don’t worry. What’s your name, by the way?’

‘Taehyung, you?’

‘Y/N’

Rule number one of your going out handbook had always been to never give a random guy your real name, because as soon as you tell them even only your first name, the next thing you know next morning, they’ve found your Facebook and Instagram and won’t stop messaging you. But with Taehyung, you just couldn’t help yourself. He radiated a wave of purity and sincerity that you’d never experienced from the male specimen, he had an effortless charm to him that immediately enveloped you into a warm reassuring embrace the moment he spoke.

Plus, you had eyes. Just look at him. Your friends would castigate, no, flay you with a whip, if you didn’t at least try to talk to him, albeit he had almost ripped out half your scalp. ‘So how come you were fighting that guy? He looked like he deserved it.’

As if he had been waiting for you to ask, he sprung into life, launching into a story about how he was in a happy loving three-year relationship with his girlfriend and had been secretly planning a holiday to Mykonos, Greece, her number one travel destination that she’d been pining for since they met. It was only after the flights and hotel had been booked that he discovered that she had been sleeping with his lifelong best friend, Jimin, since New Years Eve. But that wasn’t the worst part according to him. Tonight, his other friends had dragged him out clubbing to try help him move on, but after one to many tequila shots, one of them had let it slip that they’d all known about it all along. Each six of them chose not to tell Taehyung to avoid getting involved and severing their friendship group, so instead turned a blind eye knowing that he was spending his entire savings on this holiday. Taehyung wasn’t a violent person by all means, but nothing meant more to him than loyalty and integrity, so he simply couldn’t rein his fist back when they muttered their insincere bullshit apologies.

They had been inseparable brothers. Grew up and lived together. Seen each other’s highest highs and lowest lows. Taehyung would’ve taken a knife to the back for them, and from the pained passion in his voice, you didn’t doubt it. Now, he was left with no friends and no house; he sure as hell would never speak to a single one of them again even if they were begging on their knees, much less live under the same roof as them.

So utterly friendless and homeless.

Which, perchance, coincided with the fact that you were looking for a roommate.

To you dismay, your friend Lotta had had to move back home to look after her sick mother, which left a vacant room at your flat. It had been a month of frantic searching for someone to share the rent with because you were a broke college student, having also just lost your part-time job because the restaurant you’d been working at shut down. Again with the shit luck.

Being the reckless impulsive person you are, and also acting from the blind simplemindedness that alcohol filled one with, not to mention completely enwreathed by pity and attraction towards him… You offered your place to Taehyung. Just like that.

He truly could have been a serial killer or psychopath, you can see that now. You can also see why you shouldn’t have had that massive argument with your friends about renting out a room in your house to a stranger, who you met ten minutes ago at a club — maybe they did have a point, and you were being stupid. 

But hey, you’re still alive, so it turns out that your luck isn’t completely rotten now is it?

And now, two years later, you’re the closest friend he has. Warming to each other happened almost instantly, catalysed by the fact that you were now living together. You had helped him get over the loss of his lover and brothers by filling that fresh wound with decent home-cooked food, Friday karaoke nights and sporadic late night adventures. In return, all he could give was his share of rent with a generous side of unconditional friendship and lovable quirkiness.

Your initial attraction to him had worn off because you realised how weird it was to lust over your flatmate like that. And to think back to how you drooled half your body fluid content at him the night you met just makes you laugh now. That dork? No way. Not after seeing his skid marks.

Anyway, he quickly became a Casanova. Swearing that he was done with broken trust and fake love, his newly opened door brought a revenue of rightfully eager girls into his bed.

He has his ways with the ladies, and you have yours with men; you wingman each other every prowl out and joke about the victories together the next morning over breakfast. It’s almost like a game to see who can sleep with the most people, who manages to bring someone home first. Although he is more attractive than you, by a mile you’ll even admit, and his charm is an inescapable pit one falls into, you have a way of knowing what strings to tug on to get men wrapped around your finger. Men are such easy pliant creatures after all.

But with each other, it’s never like that. There is a firm platonic line drawn very early on that neither of you dreams of crossing, and that’s that.

.

By the time he gets back, Taehyung finds you lying on the cool wooden floor of the living room, flat on your front, arms and legs spread out like a dehydrated starfish. He can’t help but laugh at the state you’re in. In the years that you’ve lived together, he’s only ever seen you this exasperated once, which was when there was construction next door which woke you up at 8 every morning for 3 months straight. On the other hand, he of course slept away like a baby.

You whip your head up at the sound of his approach. ‘Thank god you’re back, my lord, my saviour.’ Squealing, you spring up and launch yourself at the grocery bag clutched in his hand.

‘Wow, and I thought you were that excited to see me. Of course you only care about the lollies, hmph.’ He tosses the bag at you to cross his arms.

Oops..? You look at him to find him pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out exaggeratedly in feign annoyance, a signature Kim Taehyung expression. That puppy face is your kyrptonite and he knows it. 

‘Sorry.’ Letting the bag droop onto the ground, you scratch the back of your head bashfully. ‘I mean, I would hug you but I’m all sweaty and gross, I doubt you want that.’

‘Well, you’re wrong, I’d still very much like a warm greeting to show how much you missed me and that I’m not just a delivery boy.’ He opens his arms and turns his chin up expectantly.

Typical of him to be so needy; he was only gone for two hours, how much could you have missed him! Baby behaviour, in his case, is a personality trait. 

You roll your eyes but can’t help the reluctant grin tugging at your lips as you wrap your arms around his waist. He lets out a noise of content before returning your embrace, arms rested on your shoulders and and cheek against your forehead. And of course you can feel him smiling stupidly.

‘And you call me the diva.’ You look up at him to show how pretend-unimpressed you are, and he lets out a loud sudden laugh.

‘Idiot, your whole face is red and imprinted from the floor.’

Embarrassed, you quickly wipe at your cheeks to iron out the marks, but he refuses to let go of you. You’re body is starting to warm from his heat so you try to squirm out from his hold, while much to your annoyance he tightens his grip even more. What is wrong with him? How does he not feel hot?

Helplessly flailing about in his arms like a dead fish, you resort to smacking at his chest, the unwilling smile on your lips coaxing a deep giggle from him that reverberates into your ear from his proximity. ‘Let. Go! Your sweat is gonna drip on me!’

That just eggs him on further. ‘Then you better open wide and drink up.’ He smears his damp face all over yours like a dog’s wet slobber.

It was five agonising minutes of wrestling until only threatening him with no dinner for the rest of the week got him to release you. 

You are no stranger to Taehyung’s love for skinship and his affinity to you in general. Of course he had emotionally latched on to you after you basically took him in like a lost puppy, you had offered him a sanctuary and given him someone to trust after his heartbreak, and he doesn’t let you forget how grateful he is. Affectionate by nature, he just couldn’t stop himself from sending you texts asking when you’ll get back from class or snuggling up to you ever movie night. You often wonder how his ex-girlfriend could possibly have wanted another man when hers was perfect. 

If it were anyone else, you’d find it clingy and annoying, but because it’s him, the angelic Taehyung who can do no wrong, this behaviour has grown to be endearing to you.

Lotta considers it an oddity, the physical and emotional proximity of you two, but you reassure her each time that you are just friends.

Him and you, dating? It’s a laughable image even in your head. And please, you’ve seen all his suave moves and even came up his pick-up lines for him, and though the loud female moans from his room are an indication of how good he is in bed, you just wouldn’t go there.

For the following hour, the two of you are on a quest to find that god-damn piece of paper with the air con maintenance number on it. Which proves to be quite an impossible feat seeing as neither of you are particularly neat or organised individuals. Complete messes, on your bad days, if you will. Not to mention you are both students, so the stacks of notes each of you own surmounts to the whole floor from living room to kitchen carpeted with loose sheets of paper.

It is a minefield.

Taehyung is about to lose his fucking mind. He lets out a defeated cry, allowing the pamphlets to crease in his semi-clenched fists. The heat is starting to get to him too, and he gradually sees your point that this is perhaps much more torturous than the cold. He wants to peel his own sweaty skin off. Maybe you aren’t being a drama queen after all.

He looks up to see you glaring at him with a deadly expression. ‘You better not be giving up, Kim Taehyung. You promised you’d find it.’

If this were an anime, you would have tendrils of smoke steaming from your nostrils, eyes shaded all black and a red cross popping vein blaring on your head. You are a force to be reckoned with when you’re angry, though he is rarely directly on the receiving end of your fire, and would like to keep it that way. This, however, could really tip the scale. Even his own benignant calm-tempered self is struggling to keep his cool, mentally kicking himself for so carelessly misplacing that number.

‘Don’t worry, it has to be here somewhere.’ Was it on the back of the Surf Society flyer? Or the ASOS voucher?

‘ARGHHH!’ You yell into the sofa cushion and stomp your feet as the tantrum starts bubbling to the surface, loose sheets around you flying everywhere. ‘How could I forget the company’s name?’

Taehyung has to hold in his laughter. There is just something that tickles his humour about the way you get when you’re mad, how you scrunch your nose like a bunny and start whining like a spoilt brat. Abruptly, you stand up and start Godzilla-stumping to your room. Knowing you, he guesses it’s probably to fling yourself lifelessly onto the bed and scream into your pillow.

Only a fool who wants their head bitten off would try to calm you down right now, in the past you have always been the one to talk sense into your stubborn hot-headed self, so he lets you trample away. He focuses back on looking for the number.

January electrical bills — nope.

College fee invoice — nope.

Flyer for a new Indian restaurant down the road — nope. God, why did you keep that? Neither of you even like Indian food.

Fashion leaflet, fashion leaflet, another fashion leaflet.

He makes sure to check both sides of each piece before chucking them to the “bin” pile. The poor trees, he sighs, they were probably living a lovely peaceful life with their bird friends before suddenly one day being chopped down by a scary yellow forest harvester. Do different tree types produce different paper types? Hmm, maybe this envelop was birch. He gives it a little sniff, but realises that he can’t differentiate wood scents anyway.

The unmistakable sound of your footsteps, softer this time so he hopes your mood has lifted at least a bit, startles Taehyung from his thoughts. You emerge from your room in a new outfit from before, now changed into a flimsy baby blue tank top and those teeny-tiny ass-hugging shorts he rarely sees you wear.

Taehyung gulps. And he tries to convince himself that it’s due to dehydration.

If he remembers correctly, the last time you’d worn these shorts had been— He stops his train of thought right there. There’s no way he’ll let his mind wander to that time again… Not right now…

You’ve wrapped your ponytail into a loose bun, bouncing at the crown of your head every step you take towards him. The sheen collected atop your collarbones catches his eye, and he’s immediately transfixed. He notices that you’re devoid of any jewellery, which he knows is out of fear that your sweat will oxidise the metal into a dull bronze. It is taking everything in him to try not to notice the curve of your shoulders which one spaghetti strap is a centimetre from sliding down. Or dip of the low-hanging collar that leads to a place he should never be looking at.

It’s out of respect, god-dammit. He hates being a guy sometimes.

‘What?’ You ask when you notice his stare. ‘I couldn’t take wearing those jeans anymore, the were melting onto my skin.’

‘Nothing. You just haven’t worn these shorts in a while.’ Taehyung immediately regrets saying that. Because if you remember the last time you wore them like he does, things would get a little awkward.

But thankfully, you just shrug. ‘Yeah, randomly dug them out again. Do you think they still fit me?’

It was a genuine harmless question, but Taehyung’s mind was going haywire. Yes, they fit you… A little too perfectly if you asked him.

He keeps his head down and fixates his gaze on the heap of leaflets in front of him. You carefully manoeuvre around the stacks of paper and plop back down in your spot in front of him with a soft sigh. Taehyung doesn’t dare look away from the Starbucks coupon that expired a year ago, focusing on the swirl of cream that twists into a fat heart on the surface of the latte to distract himself.

The long blocks of your peachy flesh is stentorian and blatantly glaring at him in his peripheral vision.

Don’t look at her, stupid.

Just as his eyes are on the brink of caving in to his inhibitions, you stands again, giving him an excuse to glance up. ‘Yo, you want some water?’

‘Uh, sure. Thanks.’

He watches the length of your legs extend, smooth and sun-kissed. As you carefully tread towards the kitchen, he can’t help but marvel at the way the dark material of your shorts clasp around your rear. He almost chokes when he notices the slightly infolding of the thin fabric down the crack in the middle where your cheeks part, accentuating the plump of your ass.

Damn…

In the two whole years you’ve lived together, the boundaries between you have dwindled into a fading chalk line. Under the same roof, you’ve naturally grown very comfortable with each other, so comfortable in fact that sometimes either of you forget that he’s a guy and you’re a girl above all else. He is guilty of mindlessly leaving his cum tissues here and there, while you make him do your laundry forgetting that you own the skimpiest lingerie.

He thinks you do it on purpose sometimes, just to tease him, because that was the nature of your dynamic. It was always playful banter, joking about his big dick or your high sex drive. Most of the time, it’s purely innocuous.

But Taehyung is still, very much, male.

At the sexually ripe age of 21, testosterone coursing through his blood like it’s the Grand Prix, no one could really blame him. It’s not his fault that his mind wanders off sometimes, you are an attractive girl in the utmost objective way, and no matter how strong your friendship is, he sometimes just can’t deny it.

In any boy-girl friendship, it usually gets to a point where the two people become blind to one another’s physical attractiveness, and can no longer see each other in any sexual way anymore without being repulsed. 

But every now and then, little blips are inevitable. There will be a random moment where she is looking at him, or vice versa, and think: wait a second, he’s actually pretty hot. Queue the inner monologue, contemplating whether you could develop feelings for him or this is just you being horny and crazy. But the next day, after a good night’s sleep, everything will be back to the normal level of platonism again.

You and Taehyung’s friendship holds no exception to this.

He’ll admit, he’s unconsciously checked you out countless times before, and it was all very harmless because he’d turn around and forget about it. Without a doubt, he’s sure you’ve done the same, all those times you’ve barged into his room to wake him up, only to find him stark naked in his bed with only Kimchi the teddy bear covering his manhood.

‘Where have you astral projected to this time?’ Your voice makes him jump. He finds you leaning over him, glass of iced water in an outstretched hand.

The neckline of your top is falling dangerously low. Beads of perspiration dotted on your breasts in a way that has his hand itching to wipe it off. It is the doe-eyed expression you are wearing, mouth quirked up in mirth. So sweet, so innocent. When you are anything but those things; you’re a devil by night, the walls are thin enough for him to know that. But right now, you just look so cute, it makes him want to—

Taehyung quickly takes the glass and gulps down the drink.

But it seems like God is showing him no mercy today.

Because, as you chug down the water like your life depends on it, of course rash and careless as usual, you accidentally tip the glass too far and its contents spill down your front. Drenching your little vest which is now glued to your skin from the wetness. Trickles running down your neck, across your chest and slipping into your cleavage.

Fuck.

‘Oh shit.’ Taehyung is glad that those words came out of your mouth and not his. ‘Oops.’ Are you doing this on purpose?

When you just sit back down as if nothing happened, he asks, ‘Are you not gonna dry that?’

‘Nah, it feels so nice, it’s cooling me off. Like a cold shower.’ You brush down your front, hand curving at your chest. Oh, Taehyung definitely needs a cold shower.

‘Oh… Great…’

No, not great. Because what does cold mean? Perked nipples.

He’s pretty used to you not wearing a bra. Tits are just tits after all, and he’s seen so many that it doesn’t normally doesn’t faze him anymore. So what the fuck is up with him today?

Thankfully, he is sitting cross-legged on the floor in a pair of sports shorts because he can feel blood and part of his rationality rushing to his dick right now. 

God, that’s fucking embarrassing. 

He tries not to notice how your hard buds are poking out at the soaked fabric of your tank top thats hugging the roundness of your breasts. The light blue of the cloth waning into a see through second skin, painting the dark tint of your nipples clearer than he should be seeing. His shaft twitches.

He glances up to see if you’ve caught him staring, but you’re preoccupied with sifting through sheets of your quantum mechanics notes.

Hoping you don’t notice, he adjusts his boxers that are growing increasingly tight.

.

Taehyung is being weirdly quiet, you note. You’d expected him to be chattering away, spewing out anecdotes like a volcano about all the memories you’re digging up right now by going through these old letters and notes. 

But no. He even tossed away the Indian food flyer that you were so sure would trigger him to go off about that one time when he had Indian takeout years ago which gave him a butthole-burning shit, except he realised too late that they’d run out of toilet paper so he had to wipe using Yoongi’s favourite shirt he left lying around by the sink.

Hmm… Interesting.

The only explanation you can muster is that the heat is also finally getting to him. As a summer person, he has always denied that the discomfort and anguish that comes with the heat. But looks like he’s eating his words this time. You smirk.

It was a good call to change out of that outfit that was clinging onto your damp back and inner thighs. That water spillage was a blessing in disguise as you feel a cool breeze alleviating the warmth down your chest. Mood lifted.

When you pick up another stack of paper, something falls loose from it. You hold it up curiously. Oh?

‘Look what I found?’

‘Huh?’ Taehyung slowly looks up at the flight ticket you’re waving in front of him.

Despite hours of him trying to find a loophole in the system to allow him to get his money back, that Mykonos holiday Taehyung had booked for his ex sadly could not be refunded. He was not happy about it. His parents had refused his offer for them to go in his stead, since he no longer had any friends to replace his girlfriend’s spot, complaining that travelling was too much of a hassle. And so, as the only amicable acquaintance in his life at the time, he had asked you to go with him.

It was a very casual: Hey, um, are you by any chance free in two weeks and want to go to Mykonos with me since I have a spare ticket now? If not, don’t worry about it. Actually it’s probably weird for you, never mind. But of course, how could you pass up on a free holiday to Greece? With your new, still extremely hot to you back then, roommate? Again, now you can see why Lotta yelled at you after you disappeared for a week with Taehyung and came back with a Mediterranean glow. Oh well, he didn’t turn out to be a sex trafficker, so you count that as a win.

But what happened in Mykonos… That night. The Night.

Shit, why did you bring up Mykonos? You should have just fucking kept quiet.

He mumbles a subdued oh, cool and curbs his focus back to his own pile. You don’t know what to make of it. Does that mean he remembers or forgot?

There is a reason you don’t speak of The Night in Mykonos. You take his lack of response as an indication to elusively pretend you didn’t bring it up. But now a VCR of memories is playing in your head with a hazy blue filter. You shudder.

You’re still staring at him. His sweaty head of hair is sticking out east and west, and the fact that he hasn’t noticed makes you want to giggle. 

Maybe its the dawning sun seeping through the window, or maybe its the reminder of that oneiric night in Mykonos by the sea, but he looks rather handsome today. Tan skin glistening with warm moisture, luscious lashes flickering from page to page with purpose. His bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, and he begins to tenderly chew on it as he always does when he’s focused.

It is… oddly attractive.

You feel flustered, and you’re not sure if it’s entirely due to the hot weather. The heat is making you delirious. It has to be this godforsaken heat, because why else would you be looking at your flatmate, your good friend, like he’s a piece of meat? You shake your head to try to snap out of it.

The ticket feels heavy between your fingers, the recollection of those unspoken events weighing hard in your chest. Even still, you place the ticket in your “keep” pile, if only for sentimental value and a good laugh in a few years time.

Not long after you resume your hunting, ‘FUCK YES!’ You leap up onto your feet. Taehyung’s shoulders jump up an inch cutely in surprise at your outburst.

In your hand is a church flyer, and scribbled in the corner in his messy scrawl is the AC maintenance number. Oh thank fuck, God has finally shone his light on you.

‘Found it?’ His entire face lights up.

‘FINALLY!’ You squeal and punch the air in triumph. Oh, no more sweaty pits, clammy hands, and finally a ventilated room. That means you can stop being a barbarian and resume as your normal, non-tantrum-throwing self.

Unable to contain your excitement, you spring onto Taehyung and throw your arms around him disregarding the perspiring shimmer annoyingly coating your skin. He catches you on his lap with am oomph, lips drawn into a tight smile rather than his usual wide boxy one, and you almost ask him what’s wrong because something is definitely up with him. Since when does he not take every chance he gets to bellow out a victory song? But then you feel the familiar attack of tickling fingers striking at your waist, immediately causing an involuntary spasm of your whole body.

Maybe nothing’s wrong, and he’s just tired. He does have his moods after all.

With your nose burrowed in the his neck, you note how despite all his sweat, he still manages to smell faintly of cocoa butter and cream.

.

The disappointment from the electrician informing you that she can only come at the end of the week hits the both of you like a truck, knowing that you still have to suffer several more days without proper ventilation in stifling discomfort dampens your short-lived bliss. But that doesn’t stop you two from having a celebratory pizza and movie night, that Dominos coupon Taehyung found during your lengthy search coming into use, so the horrific mess that you made doesn’t go in vain. 

The paper hurricane that is your living room, a crime in the eyes of any meticulous Type A perfectionists, only took the duration of the pizza delivery to clean up, much to your credit. Taehyung has to give it to you, you’ve always been efficient and competent when you want to be, he for the most part just watched you do the tidying while eating his ice lolly.

Bellies filled with Pepperoni Passion and Hawaiian, (Taehyung always considers disowning you for liking pineapple on your pizza), the two of you lounge like fat cats on the sofa, eyes glued to the big screen showing your third rewatch of La La Land. Night has fallen and graces you with a cooler temperature, but it is still warm enough for you two to sit a foot away from each other, not a patch of skin touching to avoid the body heat.

Taehyung shifts, perhaps unconsciously an inch towards you. He loves everything about this film: the acting, the plot, the cinematography, choreography, soundtracks… It’s simply a masterpiece. It paints so well the tragic reality which most often fail to see or more so accept, that fate does not necessarily put soulmates in the bubble of forever, but rather sometimes let their paths diverge. The shocking revelation that love can sometimes not be enough is a truth that romantics receive like a dagger to the heart. But alas, there is no happy or sad ending, there’s just — ending.

The crackle of plastic pulls him from his philosophical depths. From the corner of his eye, he sees you tear open the wrapper of the strawberry ice lolly you got up a moment ago to fetch. A bowl of ice sits on the floor beside you, depicting your habit of popping a cube in your mouth as if it were candy, letting it melt slowly into cool relief.

Looming dread gathers at the back of Taehyung’s throat as you pull out the red popsicle, still crusted with ice, and place your lips on its head.

From where he is sitting, your legs span towards him across the sofa angularly. His eyes follows the strip of skin all the way up to the hem of your damn shorts that is biting into your flesh. The curve of your ass from this angle... He wants to slide his hand under the fabric and grab.

His eyes flicker back to your lips, circling the ice lollipop like it’s lipstick. Then your tongue slides out and licks around the circumference with a deftness that sends his soul to Mars. How many times must you have done this, but with a hard cock in place of the popsicle? Oh god… His own is starting to tingle just imagining your bobbing head in between his thighs. How heavenly the pad of your tongue would feel swirling on his tip.

By the time he drags his eyes away, he’s almost completely stiff. Flustered and slightly frustrated, he yanks a cushion over this lap to conceal his… excitement. He huffs, the breath comes out slightly uneven, and he tries to focus on Ryan Gosling’s captivating smile.

But that image is now playing on his mind. It’s a magnetising pull that draws his gaze back to you.

You take almost the entire length in your mouth, cheeks hollowing like a vacuum as you eagerly suck out its berry flavour while you drag the stick out at an agonising pace. The slurp is filthy to his ears, pornographic even. His rock hard member is aching in the restraints of his pants, and his hand itches to  relieve its mind-twisting hunger threatening to consume him.

What the fuck is up with Taehyung? He feels like a fucking teenager getting his first boner, it’s actually embarrassing. The memory of you whining just yesterday about not having had a satisfactory fuck in months suddenly flashes in his brain. Truth be told neither has he, and he wonders if this is the reason for his perversion. He also wonders what noises you’d make with him pounding you from behind.

Taehyung grips the fraying edges of the cushion, distracting himself with the threads he’s rolling between his fingers. 

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Just fucking look away.

A bead of pink juice leaks from the corner of your mouth, your finger catches it before it can trickle down your chin and pushes it back in. Your attention fleetingly flutters to him and you both freeze at the eye contact, the tip of popsicle still sucked between your glistening red lips. Room only lit by the television screen, Taehyung can vaguely see the heat-induced tint in your cheeks. The way your hair is tied up exposes the too-flattering view of your neck, and boy does he want to do things to that neck.

Your eyes widen a fraction at him, pulling the long block of ice out of her mouth in a manner that Taehyung could only describe as seductively.

You fucking minx…

There is no fucking way you don’t know what you’re doing to him. You have to be doing this on purpose. Taehyung’s grip on the cushion tightens like a vice as he presses it down at his aching length, balls dying to be emptied.

You have the audacity to shrug at him all cluelessly, playing the innocent sheep now, are you? Taehyung has lost the fucking plot by now. 

Yes, you’re his roommate, best friend even, and the lewd thoughts going through his brain right now should disgust him. But they don’t. They fucking arouse him.

He is the dumb fish that took the bait and now is being wound back to you by the hook. This is a test of self restraint, it’s God punishing him for all the pussies he has annihilated, and he is a muscle away from breaking.

.

Something is definitely up with Taehyung. You clocked that when he didn’t sing along to City of Stars, or start playing his pretend-piano with Ryan Gosling.

Have you said something that offended him? Is it because of the temper you’ve been having this whole day? The attitude you’ve been throwing at him because of your frustration at the heat?

You lose attention of the movie playing in front of you. Taehyung can be very quiet when he wants to be, flushed away into his own world of idiosyncratic ponders and abstract thoughts. But he usually likes to vocalise them to you because you’re each other’s confidants, you say whatever’s on your mind and neither of you will judge. Everything is always honest, straightforward.

This rests uneasily in your chest. It is so atypical for there to be this odd uncomfortable silence between you two. If you didn’t know better, you would call it tension. But where has it come from? Taehyung was completely fine with you this morning, and even when he came back home.

The urge to ask him out loud tugs at you like a leash, yet knowing him as well as you do, he would brush it off with a ‘hm? nothing’ and you’d be back to square one. No, you need to be inconspicuous about your prodding.

Staring at the screen with feign focus, you scoot over towards him until your shoulders touch. His whole side tenses.

You look at each other, his eyes scanning your face in attempt to identify your motive before locking your gaze. ‘What?’ His voice is a deep low rumble. It sends a chill down your neck.

‘What?’

‘What.’

‘What what?’ So this is how it’s going to be. ‘I’m not allowed to sit closer to you?’

‘N- You- There’s space over there. You’re taking up the entire couch.’ He turns back at the screen.

‘Wow.’ Your fingers are sticky from the popsicle so you wipe them on your leg, the juicy residue painting a faint watercolour of red on your skin. ‘When did you become the one who hates cuddles?’

‘When did you become the one who likes cuddles?’

Touché.

You huff, crossing your arms underneath your breasts. He is being fucking difficult.

The profile of his face stares back at you: thick dark brow, the arch of his nose, sullenly pursed lips. His dark wavy strands are growing unkempt, long enough to tuck behind his ears. In this heat, he should really have it cut, yet the ruggedness it paints him is growing on you.

Taehyung resisting a snuggle is like a puppy refusing a treat. You want to shake this imposter of your flatmate and tell him to give you back the annoying needy kid who made you learn the tap dance to Lovely Night with him.

‘Well I like them now.’

‘It’s too hot to cuddle.’

‘What about that time we both had a fever and you insisted we sleep on the same bed incase either one of us died in our sleep? “It’s never too hot to cuddle, Y/N.”’ You mock.

He stays quiet, still refusing to look at you. The light humour in the air begins to seep away, leaving an unfamiliar tautness in its place.

‘Is something wrong?’ You finally ask. Fuck subtlety.

No answer. Is he thinking or ignoring you?

‘Hey…’ You hold his face between the cup of your hand and turn it to you. The blinding speed at which his own hand flies to seize your wrist catches you by surprise. You slowly let go, but he doesn’t.

The expression on his face is one you never knew he is capable of, let alone ever imagined would be directed at you. Dark hooded eyes stare into your own with an intensity that prickles fear into your core. His lips are drawn back into a scowl, and although he isn’t frowning, you can see the streaks of irritation. The grip on your wrist tightens, your arm dangling helplessly.

What the fuck…

‘I’ve had enough of you, you brat.’ He hisses and flips the cushion off his lap. Your mind is flooded with confusion, though another sensation begins to tingle within. He looks… really fucking hot right now.

‘Wha-’

He silences you with a sharp shp. ‘Don’t.’ Only now do you notice that he is towering over you, and that your faces are close enough for you to see the individual strands of his long lashes. Shit… Why are you kind of turned on by this side of him you’ve never seen before? ‘Don’t you fucking dare.’

‘Wh-’

‘I said don’t.’ You go quiet. 

With his other hand, he holds your cheek between his fingers, his roughness both shocking and arousing you. Hardness of his knuckle tilting your chin up, he leans towards you. You think for a split second that he’s going to kiss you, and in the same split second you almost wishes he does, but his lips brush against your cheek instead and lewdly slide to the shell of your ear.

You can’t move. 

A million thoughts are roaring in your head yet your mind is also blank, void of comprehension of the position you two are in. The sensual stir in your core coaxed by his lecherous proximity provides the only clarity you are certain of.

With his teeth skimming your tender skin, which sends a zoom of tingling all the way down to your sex, he lets out a feral grumble. No… A growl.

‘Don’t even try to deny it, you and your fucking games. You don’t think I’d catch on?’ His warm breath blowing at the sensitive inner ear entices another involuntary gasp from you.

‘What are you talking about, Taehyung? What are you doing?’

Then he bites you. 

Tender lobe of your ear ensnared between the snip of his teeth, hard enough to induce a painful shock which fizzles into trembling desire. The fire within your skin spreads throughout your entirety, exacerbated by the wet hint of his tongue dragging out a thin strip.

Holy fuck, you’re losing your mind.

‘Still playing coy, are we?’

‘No, I seriously d-’

‘These fucking shorts you changed into. This pathetic excuse of a top that does fuck-all to cover your tits. Then spilling water all over it when you know you’re not wearing a bra. Even bringing up fucking Mykonos? And now sucking that ice lollie like you’re thirsty for cum.’

‘I-’ The surprise of hearing such filth leaving Taehyung’s mouth impales you before the meaning of his words can sink in. Wait what?

‘Then you have the nerve to act all innocent and dolly?’ He clenches his jaw. Though you can’t see it, the image triggers a lustful pulse in your clit. ‘You fucking tease.’

Those three words finally dawn on the shambled state your mind is in. He thought…

‘You were complaining yesterday about how none of those idiots you’ve slept with could get you off. If you wanted me to dick you down so badly, you should’ve just asked, you brat.’

Oh.

He pulls back to look you dead in the eyes, and you feel yourself shudder under the dangerous promise he is assuring you. How have you managed to make him think that you were trying to seduce him? More so, how is every inch of your being yearning for him to thrust his cock into your thrumming pussy right now?

You know what he’s like in bed: animalistic fucking, his fetish for dominance but also a desire to satisfy, relentless powerplay, and the pain he likes to lace in with the pleasure. If his style hasn’t changed since...

Excitement is indistinguishable from your nervous anticipation. A gush of your eroticism pools in your panties.

This Taehyung is one you’ve never witnessed before, not even that time. No, this one is deadly, fuelled by the pent-up sexual frustration that no doubt you have caused.

Eyes dauntingly unwavering, he slowly guides your hand, wrist still locked in his clutch, down to his groin. Your touch hovers over his prominent bulge for a torturous second before he allows you to feel his arousal. As if instinctively, maybe you’ve just held to many dicks in your lifetime that it’s become second nature, your fingers curl around his erection.

He lets out a hard exhale.

Of course, you never forgot how fucking big he is, not just in length but also girth. Yet it still doesn’t stop you from melting into soft putty with his clothed crotch, firm as a joystick, fitting in your small hand like a baton.

‘Happy? Got what you wanted?’ Thumb tracing the rough of your chin, he pulls your face up to his, stopping a hair’s width away until your breaths are shared. ‘Think you’ll get more than you bargained for, even. You can’t act a spoilt little tease and go unpunished.’

You should really say something. That you never purposely tried to tempt him into this, that you have been in fact completely innocent and the perversion lies in him. But you don’t. Because you realise you’re aching for him

So here’s a big ‘Fuck You’ to the most quintessential rule established between any pair of roommates.

His lips are as soft, as supple as you remember when you press yours onto him with so much yearning and desperation that you should be embarrassed given the hard-to-get reputation you like to uphold. You mould into him like velvet, movements so fluid it could trick anyone into thinking you are longtime lovers. Brazen with the gaping hunger of your core, you move the hand not captured by his to cradle his skull, fingers daring to twirl around his curls and tug. The rumble it coaxes from him resonates down your own throat, gifting you with glowing pride. What sets you off the most, perhaps, is how eager his kiss is, lips sucking on yours so roughly you are sure they will be left red and swollen. It is not the sweet type of kiss you share on a snowy day in the park, no. This is driven by pure fervour and aphrodisia, igniting your mind with thoughts of him, all of him, and only him.

Sandy blue-tinted memories flash scene after scene behind your closed eyelids, and you wonder if he is remembering too. Remember how good, how mind-melting it was. That Night.

Strawberry flavour still on your tongue, you slide in between his teeth, the dull edges of which cordially scrap past you. He relishes in your taste, the lewd motions of his tongue an erotic reminder of his capabilities to draw a climax from you with nothing but his mouth.

Taehyung’s hand trails from your chin, featherlike down your neck and into your tank top. Kneading your breasts gently, he rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, occasionally brushing past the indented spot at the tip where all your nerves are concentrated. 

Fuck… 

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having such utter control over you, you try but fail to suppress a whimper.

Your grip in his hair slackens in order to explore the rest of him, the sharpness of his jaw, the muscles of his chest, the ridges of his toned abdomen when your hand slips, or more like very intentionally gropes, under his shirt.

Wandering fingers dare venture beneath the band of his pants, tracing the skin leading to his pubic area but never touching where he is burning in need for you. Taehyung growls and bites into your lip, tugging it far enough away to stare into your eyes. The greed in his brown orbs must be mirroring your own, evoking another flutter in your cunt.

He’s your saviour gulp of water after having been stranded in the scorching arid desert for so long; you want to keep drinking him in, you don’t think you can stop yourself.

He lets go of your lip and begin violating the shell of your ear, that sweet spot that drives you the craziest, sends your soul straight to hell. The tickling sensation is over-stimulating, too much to handle. You wriggle in pleasure at his generous licks.

Just as you reach for his throbbing length, he pushes you down onto your back and forcibly pins both your hands above your head in one smooth move that tells you he’s too accustomed to this action.

‘No touching.’ Taehyung likes control, you do not forget.

‘Why?’ You challenge. You also like control, but just this time you may allow him.

‘Why do you think?’ He scoffs and attacks your earlobe. ‘You dirty girl.’

‘Taehyung, please…’ You whine, hips rolling up to meet his, to feel his thickness against your dripping slit, separated by fabric you are desperate to shed.

He seems to stop to hesitate, and for a second you think you might have a chance. But then he says, ‘Don’t make me gag you and tie you up.’

Fuck, he’s even filthier than you thought. Perfect.

You take a moment to process his face. Taehyung is looking at you like you’re a five-star Michelin three-course meal, plated in front of him with mint garnish. He wets his lips with a flicker of tongue as he tugs your top off.

His own shirt is tossed onto the ground; you decide to be obedient and leave your hands where he put them and refrain from raking your nails down his deliciously sculpted body. 

Because you really wanna fucking come. And he had the power to not let you to.

Eyes still glued to yours, the fiery vehemence in which causes you to squirm and itch to rub yourself, he begins to pull your shorts and panties down.

The excruciatingly slow speed is deliberate.

Taehyung is not kidding about punishing you.

Knuckles brushing the smooth of your legs, you almost kick him to hurry him up. And despite the full exposure of your cunt, he is still gazing unfalteringly at you, and you feel a deluge of your desire ooze out of you.

‘Look how wet I am for you, Taehyung. Feel it’ Your dominant nature that you’re subduing for him threatens to take over, yet you are also immensely enjoying being punished as his spoilt brat.

A sigh leaves the both of you when he scissors your folds apart and drag a slick up your ravenous pussy.

He pries your thighs open with his knees after striping off his own bottoms. You almost choke at the sight of his inflated cock springing free from the restraints of his clothing, its full glory staring back at you. Fat, bold, glistening with pride and pre-cum. He gives it a careless stroke like he’s so used to touching himself that it’s as mindless as scratching an itch, and shit does it turn you on.

Never in your whole existence as a sexually active woman have you yearned for a man the way you are for him in this very moment. To feel him plunge into you with his impressive inches.

But to your dismay, he makes no move to fill you with his meat. Instead, Taehyung reaches over you to the bucket of ice, the presence of which has of course slipped your mind amidst the carnal desire coursing through your blood like wildfire.

Oh god…

Completely out of your prediction, more so than the fact that you’re naked under him right now, he balances an ice cube between his teeth, half melted into a clear blob, and passes it to your mouth. Tongue lolling out pornographically, you receive it with a hum; he watches intently, not missing how your eyes roll back at the cool comfort it provides you.

Before it has the chance to liquify, he leans in to kiss you, lapping up the icy sensation for himself.

‘You like that?’ He whispers.

You nod as you suck on his bottom lip. ‘Mhmm.’

When the ice has melted into a puddle running down your throat, he takes another one. This time, he trails it down your neck with his mouth, leaving a stream of goosebumped skin in its wake. You know where he is going with this, yet you still gasp aloud when he reaches your breasts and circles around your nipple. The brutal cold licking your bud sends a numbing chill down your spine, juxtaposing the warmth of his breath around it. He sticks two fingers into your mouth for you to suck on.

As the cube turns into icy water that dribbles down his chin and onto your front, he cautiously nips at your erogenous zone, your clit pulsing in pleasure every time his teeth grazes that sensitive beady tip.

Taehyung places yet another piece between his teeth and traces it slowly past your navel, then up and down your inner thighs, his hands circling under you to squeeze your ass. He is purposely teasing you, moving the ice so close to your slit then depriving you of the satisfaction when he slides it away again. The tickling ache is driving you mad.

‘Please, Taehyung.’ Your hand that has mindlessly found its way entangled in his locks gets pushed back up chastisingly. His love for dominance turns you on even more.

One dangerous glance from in between your thighs is enough to clamp your mouth shut. You remember, you want to cum.

He unhurriedly guides the ice along your burning lips, then finally to meet your impatiently waiting clitoris. The raw moan elicited from you echoes through the walls. God, that feels…

Your mind is gone.

Especially when his warm tongue, contrasting with the numbing cool, starts painting figure 8’s at your ultrasensitive bundle of nerves. Uncontrollable shudders overtake your whole being, and he chuckles at your responsiveness. Your hips jerk in synchronisation to his licking; your toes curl so tightly they almost cramp; your leg wraps around his back in a desperate attempt to cling onto something secure.

To your delight, he does not try to be gentle with you. Instead of timid kitten licks, Taehyung is devouring you right before your eyes, vulgar relentless flickering of his tongue at such a lightning pace you think you’ll faint. When you feel one of his hands remove from gripping your ass, you sigh in anticipation.

His long slender finger slides in easily, lubricated by your drenching arousal and the dripping ice.

‘Oh fuuuuc-.’

He doesn’t let you finish groaning before inserting a second. The loud wet quelches play a symphony in your ears, his panting adding to the orchestra of whimpers and profanities you chorus.

It’s building up, you feel it, the familiar tickling behind your clit. You feel your precarious sanity on the brink of tipping over.

‘Don’t stop, fuck, keep going. I’m about to come.’

He’s sucking on it now, head motorboating your pussy to create resonating vibrations against your bud, his fingers diving deeper into you each time.

‘Oh god, yes, just like that!’

You feel it coming, the imminent release of all the pent up pleasure. So fucking close.

But then he stops. Pulling up with a gasping breath. Fingers extracted from your depth. Devilish grin on his drenched mouth.

The urge to knee him right in the face is barely suppressed by the only inkling of humanity battling against your bestial consciousness. Sweat is running down both your hairlines. ‘Fuck you, you prick.’

Despite your anger, Taehyung’s laugh tugs a smile at your lips. Propping his elbows on your either sides, he comes up to kiss you, and you love how filthy it is to taste yourself on him. This time it’s a smooth sequence of gentle pecks, almost a small apology for robbing you of the best, the only, orgasm you’ve had in a while.

‘You deserved that, Y/N.’

No, you didn’t. You want to tell him that you hadn’t been deliberately teasing him. But you’ve come, or not come, this far already, what’s the point? So you play along.

‘Taehyung.’ You whimper. ‘That was mean.’

Testing the water, you reach down to caress his upright phallus poking at your pelvis to see if he pins you down again. He doesn’t. So you continue pumping his dick in dexterous circles of your wrist.

‘So that should teach you the lesson.’

His breath is shaky. To finally have a glimpse of his vulnerability after handling you so roughly ripples a longing pulse down your throat. Your finger rubs at the pinch of taut skin where his head joins with his shaft, the Achilles’ Heel of every man, and he moans into your hair.

Just as you move to turn him over onto his back so you can get a taste of him as well, he gets up onto his feet. Your whole front feels barren without the press of his skin.

‘Condom.’ Taehyung says, then waddles with his long cock bouncing each step into his room. In the heat of things, you have forgotten the need of protection, which you usually are careful about. 

Wow. This is really happening. You’re going to fuck your roommate, your male best friend. 

The twinge of concern at the back of your mind is outnumbered by your overpowering desire for him. Because it’s only just been the foreplay and you already know it is the best sex you’ve had in a while. If not, ever.

It was the unexpectedness of its happening, then the carnal side he’s displaying to you that completely disagrees with his typical puppy-like persona.

Before you can ponder further, he returns with his rubber wrapped cock and a dashing smirk. You take a moment to appreciate how good he looks with his damp hair partly plastered to his forehead and beige skin gleaming with sweat.

Taehyung slips his tongue between your lips as he positions himself above you, attentive not to crush you under his weight. Your hand naturally snakes around his biceps on either side of your head, one venturing to his smooth blemishless back.

For a second, he just stares at you, as if taking you in wholy, memorising this pivotal moment that will surely change everything between you. Then you feel his swollen tip gliding sluggishly up and down your slit.

‘Omfph…’

‘You want it?’ He’s so smug.

‘What do you think?’

‘You’re really going to use that tone with me?’ Who does he think he is? If you aren’t trembling for him to fill you up right now, you would be putting him in his rightful place.

‘Sorry.’ You manage to grit out, half from annoyance, half from the boggling feeling of his stiffness prodding at your entrance, so close to being inside you. ‘Just put it in.’

‘You’ve tortured me all day, you need to be punished.’

‘I’ve already been punished!’

‘Was that enough though?’

‘Yes! I’m sorry!’ And what for? You didn’t even do the crime he’s accused you of.

‘I wanna hear you beg. Tell me how much you want my cock.’ He goads, but you know it’s his way of masking his request of your consent.

‘Please, I want you so badly, Taehyung. I want you to fuck me out of mind.’ Beg he wants and beg you shall.

‘Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been?’ He continues to rub his turgid tip against you teasingly, each brush against your sensitive clit sending waves of insanity through your body.

‘Yes, I’m sorry. Please. I need your cock inside me right now.’

‘You’re forgetting something.’

After all this time, still? This filthy fucker just doesn’t change.

‘Please. Daddy.’

The groan he releases in your ear vibrates into your core, the sound of his arousal sending you wild with thrumming pleasure. He places a soft kiss on your neck before whispering, ‘Good girl.’

Without another warning, he plunges into your depths in a violent thrust.

Your velvet walls stretch to encompass his size as his plummets deeper and deeper into you until he reaches the cervix. God is he hard. The ache you haven’t been met with since the first few times you had sex is making an strangely pleasant return; it adds to the intensity of the fire in your core.

‘Fuck.’ You both say in tandem.

The slick sound of him pulling his shaft out anticipates you for the next slamming of his hips. It feels euphoric, like you’ve been impaled with a beam of physical ecstacy.

‘Fuck, you still feel this good, baby.’ The pet name is a careless slip-up on his end that you almost retort at, but your better judgement tells you to let it slide. No point making it weirder.

‘And you’re still this- Ooff. Big. Daddy.’ Taehyung starts to pick up his thrusts, hammering into you in a mechanically steady tempo.

Already, you’re feeling the rise of the pressure at your sex, reawoken from its last encounter with his tongue and fingers. He puts a cushion beneath your head to prevent you from constantly banging on the armrest, then rests his hand on your neck. It’s not quite tight enough to call it choking. Maybe he’s hesitant, afraid to push you too much, or maybe he’s considerate of your rising temperature and need for air. His other hand is massaging your breasts like dough while he rests his entire weight on his face that’s nuzzled to your neck.

You can’t tell the noises you two make apart from each other, they all just mix into animalistic grunting and growling. It’s savage, feral. 

Sweat, so much sweat. Especially during this heatwave, you feel the subcutaneous flame beneath your cheeks, your chests heaving in unison.

The stretch of your walls feels impossibly sharp, his member stirring your innards like a cauldron of fervour. His heart-twisting warm pants against your cheek makes you run your nails down his back, firm enough to decorate him with pink ribbons.

‘Babe-’ He catches himself this time before he can drag out the “y”. ‘Y/N. You like that?’

‘Yes, daddy. You fuck me so good.’ Embarrassment flushes you at the name he requires you to dole him, yet you can’t help it as the syllables roll off your tongue.

‘Fuck, keep calling me that.’

Taehyung’s grip around your neck tightens until you have to inflate your lungs to catch enough air. He presses his mouth on yours hastily before sitting up, hips still rhythmically thrusting into your aching hole. When he spreads your legs out eagle-wide to receive him at a better angle, you scream in pleasure at the new blissful soreness he’s ramming into you.

So he remembers your favourite position, still.

After a several minutes of non-stop pounding, ‘I’m gonna come really fucking soon, daddy.’ You choke out, one hand digging into his forearm that’s holding your throat down, another chafing swiftly at your lonely clitoris.

‘Oh thank god, so am I, I’ve been hard for hours.’ And you don’t know why that sounds so cute to your ears.

‘Yes, come.’

Picking up in speed but also sloppiness, he continues to send you seeing stars every time his rubber-covered member burrows into that sweet pocket within your pussy. His thumb aids you in stimulating your clit, covering more area than your small finger can. 

It’s coming, it’s coming.

And it hits you like a catapult, firing you into an ocean of physical rapture as you meet your climax in a violent collision. An invisible force jerks your legs upwards and stomach inwards, you seize the cushion under you for dear life as if it’s the only thing anchoring you from washing away into oblivion.

‘Fuck! Taehyung!’ You shriek. From your blurry vision, you see his eyes widen in lust at the sight of you withering below him.

His orgasm comes seconds after yours finish: after a series of hurried thrusts, he retracts almost completely out of you before finally burying his bludgeon into you with such force it almost draws a second climax from you when he hits your cervix. A drawn-out groan rips through his throat. 

You don’t feel him release into you due to the obstruction of the condom, but the contortion of his features, brows pinched, jaw and tongue hanging, eyes squeezed shut, as he rides out his high is enough indication of his pleasure.

‘Holy shit.’ He topples onto you.

‘Holy shit, Taehyung.’ Despite the amorous nature of the action, your arms snake around his neck in its own accord, pulling him up so he can sink his face into your neck.

You’re both heaving, skin glued together with mixed sweat, hair wet and sticking out in places. His hands cling onto your waist as he slowly maneuvers out his limping dick with a roll of his pelvis. Neither of you had lasted very long, perhaps that is more telling of your pent up frustration for each other rather than your sexual stamina.

‘Uh, wow.’

‘Yeah… Wow.’ Taehyung glances up at you. You last a total of 4 seconds under his acute focus before breaking away from his eyes that have resumed its round puppiness. It only begins to terrify you now how he can switch from Big-Dicked Daddy-Kinked Beast to Good Boy in a blink.

Silence plagues the heavy air between you. Neither of you speak, neither of you move.

What the fuck happens after you get fucked the living out by your roommate?

You feel him take in a breath to break the tension, and you can take a pretty good stab at what he’s going to say, so you rush ahead to get your word in first.

‘Ugh, I’m so fucking sweaty. I need a shower right now.’

He takes that as a polite signal to get off you. But then you pause to look at each other, because that sounded like an invitation. You didn’t intend for it to be, but mayhaps it is.

‘Do you mean… Round two?’

‘You up for it?’

‘Of course. Are you?’

Are you? Can you take another hammering from this filthy freak? Not if you intend on being able to walk tomorrow…

Nevertheless:

‘Fine, but afterwards... This can’t happen again.’

17/08/19

© Copyright 2019

Garrison days part 1 |  2 | 3 | 4 |   That moment when your best friend is also your crush so you gotta choose between having some fun and your sanity. Can you believe they were best friends and best partners even before being a couple? incredible.

there was a bug | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader ⇢ genre: smut, fluff, angst ⇢ word count: 7.0K ⇢ theme: roommate! namjoon + best friend! namjoon + f2l au ⇢ warnings: cursing, unprotected sex (be safe), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), deep throat, handjob, sleep stroking, fingering (f. receiving), cumshot, mild dirty talk, tons of self doubt.. yikes. this literally turned out way more angsty than i had originally planned. namjoon’s dick is huge. ⇢ summary: you and joon have been best friends for years, unexpectedly his feelings start to grow more than platonic. deciding to keep this to him, joon stays as your best friend and roommate. things are going fine, until one night you’re forced to sleep in his room.

Mindlessly scrolling through your timeline, you were met with the blurry picture from the night you spent out with the guys a while ago. Jimin had posted it. You were slung over your roommate, Joon's shoulder as he ran toward the water, Jungkook and Hoseok rushing up behind you two.

A faint smile spread across your lips as your thumb tapped twice against the screen. That had been a good night. The eight of you crowded around an open fire, salty from the lake water. Jin had kept everyone entertained with his endless storytelling. Yoongi was even oddly animated, excitedly adding on to his elder's words.

Jimin's unofficial job was to get everyone drunk, calling for a suspicious amount of shots. It wasn't until Tae was puking out his guts did Jimin think it was time for everyone to slow down. Still it was a fun night. You even remembered pretending to be asleep so Joon would carry you to the house.

You had always liked the feeling of being in his arms.

It had become a running gag among the lot of you, when you and Joon would stop playing and become official. You couldn't see that happening, though. Yeah, you lived together, and you'd cuddle and were a bit more touchy with him than the others and there was that time that he ate you out but you were both drunk and it ended at that.

You two were just a bit too different for a relationship to blossom. At least, that's the mantra you've been repeating since that drunken night. And from the lack of romantic advances, Joon must've felt the same way. What you two had now was good, you were best friends and it wasn't complicated.

Feelings completely platonic. Your eyes followed the movement by your head, a shriek leaving your lips as your eyes fixed on the large black bug strutting over your pillow. Body flying up, you nearly sprinted down the hall, bursting into Joon's room.

You were met with his wide eyed surprised expression. He had been laying on his bed, a pair of gray sweats hanging low on his hips as he read his newest novel. It only took him a second to take in your frazzled state, sitting up only now registering your shriek from before.

“Why? What happened?” His eyes holding their round shape. You couldn't help the way your eyes shifted from his face to bare chest. It wasn't often that you saw Joon with his shirt off. He was definitely more modest than the other guys, only sometimes taking his shirt off while he swam.

You never gave it much thought, but now you were cursing him for it. How selfish of him to hide such a beautiful mass of muscle from the world. Joon was much buffer than when you first met. Prominent collarbones housing two very well worked on pecks, you imagined the way they'd flex if he was to tighten a muscle.

His arms had gotten bigger two, much rounder and visibly harder. His soft but flat tummy was a contrast to all of the muscle. With a clearing of his throat, Joon caught your stare arching a brow. “What's up?”

A forced cough left your lips, mentally scolding yourself for ogling at your best friend like that. “I... I, uhm-,” It took you a moment to regain your composure the multi legged creature reminding you why you were standing there, drooling.

“There was a bug! A huge bug crawling on my bed,” Your eyes widened as the memory of seeing the insect run over your pillow rushed back into your thoughts. It was so big! And dark, it had so many legs. You just wanted to throw up.

Joon's body relaxed once he realized it was nonsense you were on. “So? Squish it,” He shrugged a shoulder, leaning back into the comfort of his bed while lifting his book back up to eye level.

“Squish it!?” You moved so you were now standing at his side. The palms of your hands wrapping around the swell of his bicep. Really? When did he become like this? With a few pulls, you managed to tug him back up to a sitting position. “Can you please go look?” Pairing your request with a pout he never seemed to be able to resist had Joon rolling his eyes.

Slowly he pulled himself into a standing position, the palm of his hand rubbing against his bare chest. It seemed as if in that moment he had realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, the tips of his ears flushing and his cheeks too if you could see his face.

“It's probably gone by now... I'll look,” He offered a small smile in your direction. You had taken up a small portion of his bed, nodding your head as you crossed your legs underneath you.

Your eyes never left him as he walked out of the room, did that boy just live at the gym? How had you not noticed him getting bigger like this? You enjoyed the delicious flex of the muscles in his back until he was disappearing around the corner.

With a huff, you were flinging yourself back against the blankets on his bed. Almost immediately, you were engulfed with his scent. Joon always smelt so good. A bit like nature from all the time he spent outside, mixed with the bit of cologne he sprayed in the morning.

One of the reasons you loved being in his arms so much was because all you could smell was him. A mini collection of his sweatshirts had started in your closet. He didn't mind, always mentioning how adorable you looked in his big clothes. The brim reaching to the tops of your knees.

Joon was jogging back into the room moments later, you didn't bother to sit up. He took up the space beside you, shoving your hair back off of your forehead. “I couldn't find it. It probably just left,”

That had you quickly sitting up, “It probably just left? Probably not. It's most likely concocting some plan with it's friends to attack me while I'm asleep.”

Joon laughed. “I doubt that,”

“I'm sure of it,” It was so easy for you to curl up into his lap, especially with how quickly he was to wrap his arms around your tiny frame. “Can I just stay in here with you?”

“You want to sleep in here?”

It was late, a bit past ten, there was no need to entertain each other. Just sleep. You two had fallen asleep on the couch together countless of times. You nodded.

Seconds ticked by as his eyes studied your face, his attention being brought to the book he had been reading before you had interrupted him. A soft sigh left his lips, “Hand me my book,” He jutted his chin out to point at it. You were quick with grabbing it, so you could settle back into Joon's embrace.

“Will you read to me?” Your arms had wrapped around his torso, your body shifting into his lap. “You're just going to fall asleep,” This wasn't the first time you had asked Joon to let you in on his literary adventures and every single time you fell asleep before he could finish a chapter.

“I won't this time, I'm not even tired.”

Flicking to his saved page, Joon began reading the printed words out loud. He had shifted your body on his lap. You were more comfortable now, between his legs with your back against his chest. His arms around your waist as he held the book out in front of you two. You could feel the rumble in his chest with every word he spoke.

Joon's brows furrowed as he went to flip the page, hearing your soft snores. His gaze shifted down to your sleeping face, his eyes instantly rolling. “So annoying,” He mumbled, the smile on his lips only growing. It annoyed  how even with your face squished against his arm, creating a puddle of drool on his skin, hair in your face he still thought you were so pretty.

The feelings he had for you were strong and destined to just grow. Of course he was sad that you didn't feel the same way. But having you as his best friend was good enough for him, it had to be. There was a point where he was convinced that everything was going to change.

It was in the midst of one of your many movie nights. You two had, had a few drinks and were teetering toward tipsy. This wasn't the first time you'd get drunk together, but this time became different than the rest because you had kissed him. You. Kissed. Him. He remembered the feeling of his heart hammering against his rib cage, the girl of his dreams was kissing him in the middle of their shared living room. The excitement, and the alcohol, had things heating up quickly and soon you were in bed together.

You tasted so sweet against his tongue. So wet too, for him. Just for him. That had been the best night of his life, being able to watch you cum not once, but twice just from his tongue. He had planned for so much more, but you whined about being sensitive and he didn't want to push it.

Joon held you that night, all night. Just like he had done so many times before, but this time it was going to be different. When morning came, you'd be together the way that you should be. He'd be able to kiss you and hold you without that terrible ache in his chest.

At least, that's what he thought. The sun had barely risen the next morning, but he was awoken from his slumber by your frantic shifting. The panicked look on your face was enough to send all of his hopes for the two of you to hell. “We didn't.... did we?” You couldn't even say it as if it was so horrible.

Joon had eased your worries to which you replied with: “Fuck, I was so drunk.” He shrugged it off, agreeing. Although that night, he hadn't drank that much... and neither did you.

The memory put a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't upset about it, not in the slightest. Things were the way they were. He just wished they were different.

With very little effort, he was rolling your body over to the empty side of his bed. You shifted only slightly, incoherent mumbles leaving your lips before you were back in deep sleep. Tossing his book on the nightstand, Joon went to flick the light off.

“Stop moving,” Joon's words were fogged with fatigue, his body shifting to face your tossing figure. It had to be after one by now. You had woken up a few moments ago, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. You didn't mean to wake Joon up, you had forgotten that you were in his bed.

A grumble of what was supposed to be a sentence left your sleeping lips. Without a word, Joon was wrapping an arm underneath your head, tugging your body against his chest. Your face being smushed right against his bare slightly sweaty chest.

He patted your head, “Sleep,” An involuntary happy sigh left your lips as your body relaxed. “So perfect,” You mumbled out, lips puckering to place a chaste kiss to the center of his chest. Joon's body stilled, pulling back only to be met with your sleeping face.

You lay wide awake on your back, watching Joon's air humidifier. A dozen curses were being sent to that bug that decided to commander your bed. Now you were wrapped up in Joon's tight embrace, a leg around your waist and his arm draped over your shoulders. His face was nuzzled into your neck, lips inches from your skin. All you could breathe in was his scent and your heart was going crazy.

With each soft breath blown against your clammy skin, you grew wetter. His fingers ghosted over the skin of your shoulder, the gesture only making the heat between your legs grow. He looked so peaceful and... so clueless. You wondered how he could sleep so soundly when he was making you feel this way.

Unconsciously, his hand was slipping down from your shoulder. You froze when the tips of his fingers traced the lace of your tank top. Was he awake? You shifted to take a peak. Still sound a sleep, snores leaving his lips. His features contorted, an inaudible murmur leaving his lips as he flattened his hand over your breast. A few wiggles of his fingers and his thumb was rolling over your now hardened nipple.

A gasp left your lips, quick to bat his hand away. He shifted, groaned before tucking you further underneath him. Joon let out a yawn, he was so close his lower lip dragged against your skin as he closed his mouth, the feeling instantly had your pussy aching.

You had to get out of here. Before you did something rash. Before you ruined the friendship you both worked so hard for. Before... his hand was on your chest again, squeezing and kneading. The motion startled you, forcing you to jump back, his limbs sliding from your body.

“What is it now?” His words raspy and you could tell he was hardly awake. “Come back, baby. You're so warm.” His eyes were open now, hooded but staring right at you. He blinked a few times, confusion taking over his features. “Are you alright?”

What were you to do? Tell him that he was feeling you up in his sleep and it made you so wet and now that he was awake you wanted him to do more. To touch you some more. Yeah, right. He'd definitely think you weird. Instead, you shook your head, sinking back into the spot next to him.

Joon's arms were quick to wrap around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. His hand nuzzling in your hair. He shifted and that's when you felt it. He was so fucking hard and deliciously big. Had he been dreaming before? His length was pressed right against your ass and it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

Your hips had taken on a mind of their own, it seemed. Rolling backward feeling just how long he was. Fuck, so big. Your quiet whimper was followed by another jerk of your hips, and then another, and another. The moan that left your lips was masked by his grunt. “Fuck,” Again, you froze.

Joon thrust his hips upward, body jumping at the friction. He repeated the action. “Keep going, please.” He sighed, the grip he held on your waist tightening.

You twisted in his arms, staring up at him with wide eyes. You could feel your heart beat throughout your entire body as he stared at you. Lip tucked between his teeth, crazed lust filled eyes, hair a mess. It only took a second before you decided what you were to do next.

Your hand was wrapping around his hard cock before you had a moment to talk yourself out of it. There was already a bit of pre-cum gathered at the tip and you smirked at how much you were able to affect him by not even doing much.

Joon's cock was heavy against your palm, long and veiny. The tip of your index finger traced over the most pronounced vein at the underside of it. Earning a hiss from him. Joon didn't dare move a muscle, he didn't want this to end and he felt if he made the wrong move than poof, this all would be over like a dream.

Gathering as much moisture from his tip as you could, you slowly began to stroke him. Your eyes never left his, watching as his jaw fell slack the moment you started the movement of your wrist. “Fuck, you're huge.” Your words were punctuated by the drop of your second hand around his length.

You twisted both fist in opposite directions, keeping up with your torturous pace. When you looked up at Joon, his eyes were squeezed tight, mouth open and head cocked back. But he wasn't making a sound. You wanted to hear him. You wanted him to fall apart from how good you were making him feel.

Dropping one of your hands down, you grasped his balls. Shit, even these were big. Giving them a firm squeeze while speeding up the pace of your strokes, you watched his face. “Fuck, baby.” He cursed, hips jerking forward. “Do that again,” His breathing was much heavier now.

You obliged, massaging your fingers into his skin after you squeezed. “Shit.” Joon was dragging out his curses and moving his hips along with the movement of your hand. Just when you were sure you were going to have him cumming, he stilled.

A hand pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. His mouth was on yours in an instant. The kiss was sloppy and rushed. Tongues twisting and pushing against each others until he decided that he liked nibbling at your lips better.

Kissing him right now brought back the memory of what it felt like to have his mouth working between your legs. The thought only sending a shock of arousal between your legs. Rolling onto his back, Joon didn't dare part his lips from yours. Not until he was satisfied did he use the grip he had on your hair to pull your head back. His hand pushing your body down until you were face to face with his throbbing cock.

It glistened slightly with his arousal. The tip an angry red. He was much bigger than he felt. You gasped when it jumped, seemingly on it's own. You had been so mesmerized by his size, you hadn't noticed Joon's hand coming down to wrap around himself.

Not until he was lining the tip of his cock up with your mouth. He rubbed it against your lips a few times, the salty taste seeping through onto your tongue. “Open,” He urged. Your mouth was wide before he could finish his sentence, leaning forward to swallow him whole. You've wanted to taste him for God knows how long. Moaning once you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, you tried for the last few inches covered by his palm only to have your throat restrict, your coughs forcing you to pull back.

“Easy,” Joon pushed your hair back so he could see your face, “Relax, baby.” Fuck, he looked so good right then. Lips wet and swollen from the kiss you had shared. Hair sticking up in all directions, that one vein at the side of his neck was starting to show.

You ducked your head back down, tonguing over the vein at the underside of his cock. He groaned so you did it again, this time sucking his tip into your mouth. You rolled your tongue over it in small circles. Silently preparing yourself before opening up your mouth once more to take him down your throat.

He was bigger than any other guy that you've sucked off. Way bigger. Your hands grasped his thighs bracing yourself for the few inches that were left. Joon watched you in amusement. How hard you were trying to swallow all of him was not only extremely sexy but... lifting your gaze your eyes caught his. It took everything in him not to fuck forward, just to have you choke again.

Your eyelashes batted cutely at the man above you before you were swallowing the rest of his length, your  nose pressed up against his groin. Joon was almost drooling at the sight of you, his body jerking when he felt you swallow around him.

Quickly he was reaching down for you hand, bringing it up to your throat. “Swallow.” You followed his orders, feeling your throat constrict and then... the feeling of his cock right there. “Feel that?” He smirked, his hips pulling back to allow you to breathe normally.

Sitting back on your knees, you greedily sucked all the oxygen into your lungs that you could.

Joon took in your watery eyes, the harsh raise and fall of your chest. Maybe he'd pushed you too far. He thought. His hand grasped his cock, mimicking the movements that you had been doing before. He'd just make himself cum and that would be it.

Your head shook quickly, eyes going wide. You were crouched down inches from his cock within seconds. “I wanna do it. Please, let me make you cum.” He was surprised, but pleased. Seeing his nod, you were quick to replace his hand with your own.

Tongue finding home on his balls as you moved your hand quickly. His moans only urging you on. “Fuck, you're so good... in your mouth, baby. Put it in your mouth.” Your mouth covered a little more than half of his length, your head bobbing quickly as you hallowed your cheeks here and there. The palm of your hand massaging and squeezing his balls.

Joon had both of his hands holding your hair back, twisting and jerking his hips along with the movement of your mouth. “Uh, fuck... I'm so... fuck, I'm close.” You let him still the movement of your head, fucking your mouth at his own pace now.

It wasn't long before his thrusts became sloppy and he was sputtering, holding your head down as he filled your mouth with his load. Incoherent rumbles of praise and curses left his lips as he slowly came down and you began sucking again, milking out every last drop of his orgasm. You swallowed.

“So good,” He was mumbling before slumping back against his pillows. An arm went up to cover his eyes as he concentrated on getting his breathing in tact. You watched him for a while, his chest heaving and stuttering until it was just soft breaths indicating that he had fallen asleep.

The cloud of arousal had suddenly been ripped away from you in that moment. Realization of what had just taken place finally hitting you. You both crossed the line again, and this time there was no alcohol to blame it on. What did all of this mean for you? For your friendship?

The thoughts rattling in your mind were slowly driving you mad and you decided you couldn't sit here and watch him sleep anymore. Shoving the covers back, you reluctantly trudged back down the hall and into your room. You'd just have to brave whatever creature decided to attack you in the night.

The sun seeped through the window and onto Joon's face, slowly pulling him out of his slumber. He stirred and groaned, reaching out for your body-- in hopes to steal some of your warmth. His arm being full outstretched and not finding you had confusion settling in. His eyes blinked the sleep away, his blurred vision finding the empty space beside him.

Last nights events all came rushing back at once. “Fuck,” Joon grumbled, sitting up in bed while running his hands over his face. He had taken things too far, once again. Who knows how you'd react this time around. It was obvious that you were feeling weird... why else was he waking up in an empty bed.

It was as if he wasn't able to learn his lesson. He was always crossing the line with you and he feared the day you got sick of it. Shoving his blankets off of his body, he was dragging himself down the staircase and into the kitchen.

His heart fluttered, seeing you standing there. Wearing nothing but his t-shirt and a tiny pair of panties. Your ass jiggled as you tried to reach a cup on the top shelf. You never dressed like this. Not in front of your friends at least. Knowing this had Joon instantly thinking that maybe last night wasn't a huge mistake.

Maybe things were different now and seeing you like this was going to be the new thing. Without much more thought, he was moving to stand behind you, doing something he had wanted to for so long. An arm snaking around your waist and a hand sliding down to squeeze your plump ass. Fuck.

A yelp left your lips at the feeling of his strong hand, your body jumping and the cup just barely in your grasp slipping, rolling and tumbling onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass filled both of your ears. “Joon!” You exclaimed, wiggling from his grip to pick up the pieces.

Joon cursed himself for an idiot once again. “Sorry, I just...” Shaking his head, he bent down to help you clean up the mess. You stared down at the shards of glass, refusing to make eye contact. “It's fine, I got it. You don't have too... ow, fuck!” Quickly blood started to leak from the small flesh wound, you brought your finger up to your mouth to suck on it.

“Don't do that.” Joon was reaching for your hand, pulling your fingers from your mouth. You observed the cut before pulling you up to your feet. “It's not that bad, let's get it cleaned though.” You went to pull your hand out of his grip, starting to tell him that you could handle it yourself. He was shaking his head before you could even finish your sentence, leading you into the bathroom.

Joon had sat you down on the toilet as he crouched down in front of you. A first aid kit open on the floor between you, you almost rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. Nothing was said as he rubbed disinfectant over your finger, inspecting the cut once all the blood was wiped away.

You couldn't help the way you seemed to always admire him, even if he was doing the simplest of things. He had neglected to put a shirt on before leaving his room, the same sweats hugging his hips. He had such an attractive look of concentration on his face, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

How could he be this handsome? How could he.... inwardly shaking your head, you stopped your thoughts. Looking at him that way was exactly what got you in trouble last night. Joon was your friend and just that. What he did while you were horny and urging him had nothing to do with anything. He only saw you as a friend. That was it.

The triumphant smile that grew on his face made your heart skip. He was holding your bandaged finger up so you could see. You forced your gaze to the bright purple bandage wrapped around your finger. “Thank you,” The words left your lips in a mumble as you pulled your hand back into a lap.

Joon nodded, raising to his feet. You watched as he tucked the first aid kit back into the drawer, standing there for a while. He still looked concentrated, but on what? What could he possibly be thinking about? A way to let  you down easy about what happened last night? Probably.

You'd just have to beat him to it. “Listen, I...”

“Sorry, for...” Your words overlapped each other, both of you letting out an embarrassed laugh. It was nice to hear him laugh, it felt as if an entirety passed since you heard it last. “You go first.” He nodded, pushing his hands through his already messy hair.

He looked just as embarrassed as you felt. “I wanted to apologize... you know, for last night.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to muster up some confidence. “I took things to far, I know it. I shouldn't have...”

“You took things too far? None of that wouldn't have happened if I didn't decide to just grind on you.” Your face flushed at the memory. He had felt so good against you, it was crazy that you were apologizing for acting on it.

It looked like Joon was blushing too, “Well, that probably wouldn't have happened if I didn't start feeling you up in my sleep.” Your eyes widened at his revelation.

“You were awake!?”

An awkward laugh left his lips, the dimples on his cheeks making an appearance. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he tilted his head. “Not exactly... I mean, I knew what I was doing... but I was so sure that it was a dream. Until you were jumping back, but I was too embarrassed so I played dumb,”

You faked a gasp, punching your first into his chest. “You had me feeling like some weirdo getting off on what people do in their sleep.” He rubbed at the spot on his chest, scrunching his face up in mock pain.

“Wait, what do you mean getting off?” He stepped a bit closer to you, his brow cocked and that stupid smirk on his lips. There were no words to back track, you were stuck. He was looking at you in such a familiar way,  his gaze nearly enough to have you on your knees begging.

The palm of his hand spread over your hip, tugging your body against his. Your heart was pounding, sweat rushing to your palms and forehead. Your hands dropped down onto his chest, his left peck jumping under your touch. You could've moaned but you didn't, you were pushing his body back. A confused expression playing on his features.

“I think, maybe... it would be best if we just forgot about last night. Don't you agree?” Joon was dropping his hands from your body and if you were mistaken you could swear you saw a flash of disappointment behind his dark eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I agree. Let's do that. Good idea.”

“Isn't it? I mean, we're best friends and like, we live together too. We don't want to complicate things, right?” You didn't even believe the words that were coming out of your mouth.

“Right.” Joon agreed. He watched as you nodded your head, turning and leaving the bathroom. Once he was sure you were out of earshot, he let out a frustrated groan. Kicking his toe against the cabinet. Why was this so hard? Couldn't you see how badly he wanted to be with you? Why were you playing with him like this?

It wasn't fair. Every time he thought he was close, you'd push back. He had been careful for years around you. Minded his hands, his words, his glances. It was always you. You were always sliding into his lap, you were always crawling into his bed, you had kissed him. You. You. You.

What were you doing to him? It wasn't right. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. It would end up driving him mad in the end.

You were back in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from before. Joon's words pulled you from the mess of thoughts in your head. You stood, placing the broken glass on the counter. “What'd you say?”

“I said, no. I'm not 'okay' with just forgetting about last night. Or that other night for that matter. It may shock you, but they meant something to me...” The strides he took were long and hesitant. His eyes bored into yours. You just stood there frozen.

“And I'm literally going to go mad, because I don't understand you. You always act like you might possibly have feelings for me but once something like that happens... you pull back and I don't get it. You're confusing and I just... I like you so much.” Your heart was pounding again, eyes wide from his confession. He liked you? Kim Namjoon liked you? Really?

“So so much, but I can't keep doing this back and forth.   I need you to just be honest with me. I like you, do you like me?” Joon stood just inches from you. If you were to reach out, you'd be in his arms. He had such an intense look in his gaze shifting from your face.

You wanted to tell him. Let him know how you'd been finding yourself thinking about him more and more. How your heart fluttered every time you hugged him. How seeing him even for a minute had could lift your entire mood. Yet, you couldn't find the words.

Instead, you found yourself closing the space between you two. Your arms wrapping around his neck in one swift moment and your lips finding his. Joon was reacting almost instantly. This kiss was a lot different from the one shared between you two last night. This kiss was slower, your lips pushing and pulling against each other so gently. This kiss. This was better than telling him, right? From the way his hands were finding your hips, you couldn't help but agree with yourself.

That was until you felt him pushing you back, forcing your lips to slide from his. “No,wait. You need to tell me, I need to hear you say it. I can't do this again.” Why was he always like this? Couldn't he just tell? You were always making moves and having to pull back because he just did not get it.

He looked so confused, yet so determined. You laughed, shaking your head. His brows furrowed and you grabbed at his cheeks, squishing them to make his lips pucker out. You kissed him like that, laughing and doing it again. “I like you, Namjoon. Hell, I might even love you at this point,”

“Really?” Despite his look of disbelief, Joon had his hand gripping the hem of your shirt. Using his grip to pull your body against his. You nodded. Had it not been obvious this entire time? “Honestly, I'm surprised you even have to ask... I'm literally all over you, how could you-” Your words were interrupted by the moan you let out from the feeling of his large hand squeezing your ass.

Your eyes caught his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss; not wasting any time with slipping his tongue past your lips. The atmosphere in the room changed within seconds. Joon was wrapped around you completely, a hand cupping one of your breasts, the other holding your ass. You never wanted someone more.

A string of moans were slipping past your lips when Joon was dropping his head down to press open mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck. Your hands rested on his stomach, his hard abs warm underneath your palms. Your blunt nails pressing against him when he began toying with your earlobe.

You hadn't realized him grabbing your wrist, not until he was pushing your hand down onto his clothed, but very hard cock. “Fuck,” You mumbled, stroking him through his sweats. The way his hips jerked had you grinning. “You're so big, Joon.” Your words came out in a moan, fingers spreading as your rubbed him.

Joon was quickly picking you up off of your feet, laying your back down on the couch as he hovered over you. His lips sucked a hickey at the side of your neck as he slipped his hand underneath your panties. He groaned. “You're this wet? I've hardly touched you.” He smirked.

“Shut u-up.” You stuttered as his finger began to massage your clit. He was quickly pushing two fingers past your folds, “Mm, so tight. You think you'll be able to take this cock, baby?” He was dragging your hand onto his bulge again. You nodded quickly, slipping your hand into his sweats to feel his bare skin.

“Please,” You begged while opening your legs wider for him. Joon was able to easily slip another finger inside. Bringing another hand forward, you tugged his sweats down enough for his dick to visible to your greedy eyes. You began to stroke him, watching his face twist in pleasure as he began to mindlessly rock his hips with your hand movements.

His mouth fell slack as you sped up your strokes, his eyes rolling shut and brows furrowing. You reached for his balls. “Fuck, shit...” His fingers stilled inside of you as he bit down on your neck. “Stop,” He groaned while bringing his hand to wrap around your wrist.

“Close already?” You teased, your index finger tracing over a large vein on his cock. Joon leaned down to kiss your smirking lips, chucking softly. “I've been waiting five years for this, shut up.”

“Five years!?” You repeated and he nodded, leaning down to kiss your lips. He replaced your grip with his, stroking himself a few times before rubbing his cock against your wet clit. “I really want to taste you... but fuck, I might explode if I don't fuck you right now.” Your pussy clenched at the thought of him inside of you.

You reached down to push your panties to the side, trying to wiggle your hips up toward the tip of his cock. “Fuck me. I need you so bad, Joonie. Please,” You pleaded. Slowly, he began to sink in inch by inch. “So big, so big.” You gasped, fists clenching once he was all the way in.

“Finally,” Joon sighed.

It took you a few moments to adjust to his size. Joon busied himself with your bare chest, sucking kisses onto the underside of your breasts, teasingly swiping his tongue over your nipples when you least expected it. When you began to move, his hands found your hips. He didn't waste a moment with thrusting into you, groaning at the tight squeeze around his throbbing cock.

Rolling his hips back, he began to pull out before quickly thrusting forward. That earned a shocked yelped from you and he smirked, repeating the action a few times before setting a pace. His strong hands held your legs up and apart as he fucked into you hard and fast.

His name fell from your lips in breathless pants, you could already feel the pressure growing in your lower belly. “More, more...” Joon's hand was coming down between your legs in an instant, rubbing at your clit and making your walls tighten around him. He hissed.

“You feel... so good, baby. Fuck,” Teeth trapped between his teeth, you could tell he was keeping himself from cumming. Securing your legs around his waist, Joon dropped down so your chests were pressed together. His hand tangled in your hair, using his grip to tilt your head to the side. Wet kisses were trailed from your jaw down to your collarbones.

His fingers toyed with your clit deliciously. Your eyes widened as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock brushing against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Fuck, Joon... Right there!” Your head was rolling back and he repeated the movement again, hitting it over and over again until your legs were shaking.

A string of curses left our lips as your orgasm hit, Joon groaned at the feeling of your body tightening. His arms wrapping around you to pull you up as he lay on his back. Your body fell slack against his chest, breath heavy and eyes unfocused.

Joon's thrusts were short and hard. Your body bounced as he fucked fast into you, desperately chasing his orgasm. He felt so good you couldn't help but try to move back against him, whimpering. His movements were beginning to get sloppy and you could tell by the look on his face that he was close.

You whined at the emptiness you felt as he pulled himself out to stroke himself. His cum was warm on your back, you moaned each time a drop hit. Joon laid back on the couch, arm over his face as he tried to regulate his breathing. You smiled. He must do that every time after he finished.

“Mm, wanna taste you.” He mumbled, lifting your hips and laying you back down.

You laughed, leaning up to pressed your mouth over his. He smiled through as he kissed you lazily, his fingers sliding between your legs. He rubbed at your folds slowly. “Be my girlfriend,” The words were murmured against your lips but you heard him loud and clear.

“You're only saying that because you want to eat me out,” You half joked. Joon rolled his eyes as he slipped his fingers inside. “I'm saying that because I want to take you on dates. I want to eat you out because I can literally feel how wet you are.”

You moaned at his words, twisting your hips in hopes to urge him to move his fingers. “Are you sure? I mean... what if we break up?” That was one of your biggest worries. There was no way you'd be able to go back to the way things once were. Especially not if you started dating.

“We won't.” He began moving his fingers, curled upward they just barely hitting your spot.

“What if you get sick of me?” Your gasp was heard through your words, he smirked.

“I'm already sick of you,” His dimples appeared as he grinned, you laughed hitting his shoulder. “Joon, seriously.” He was slipping his fingers out, slowly lowering himself. “I'm serious. Girlfriend?” His face was between your legs and he didn't waste a minute before he was diving in.

His tongue flickering over your clit as he teased a finger at your entrance. He looked up at you with mischievous gleam in his eye. “Yes or no?” His finger swirled around your hole before slipping all the way in and just as quick, pulling back.

Joon continued to tease you, awaiting your answer. “Yes, yes, yes. ” you moaned after the fourth time he pulled his fingers away.

The grin that took over his features was enough to make your hear t swell. He pushed a two fingers back in, leaning up to kiss your lips before he was lowering himself between your legs again.

do you like friends to lovers because it’s a cute trope or because you’re desperate to be loved by someone who knows you inside out and would show up at your door at 2am in the morning to take you on a road trip while also packing your favorite snack and then kiss you good night as you snuggle up in their arms at some dingy motel while watching bad rom-coms which they hate because the characters doesn’t communicate with each other and communication is the most important thing in your relationship and the trope of rom-com women behaving erratically over an easily resolvable misunderstanding needs to die

Hii!! I just want to ask if you have any tips or resources in writing character relationships?? Like I want to build a relationship between two characters in a relatively short time but i dont want it to feel rushed,,,,thank you so much!! Your blog has helped me alot!!

I have quite a few resources and advice on the topic of building romantic relationships in a story, so I’ve linked some relevant resources below that you might find useful:

How To Fit Character Development Into Your Story

Creating A Love Interest For An Introvert

 Writing Opposites Who Attract

Resources For Plot Development

Guide To Plot Development

Describing Heartbreak

 Developing Complicated Plots Around Characters

Writing Great Fanfiction

How To Write The Perfect Kiss

On Romantic Subplots

Resources For Romance Writers

Tips On Writing Skinny Love

Guide To Writing Friends To Lovers

Guide To Writing Enemies To Lovers

Guide To Writing Faded Love

Resources For Writing YA Fiction/Romance

Guide To Writing Will-They-Won’t-They

Rivalry vs. Abuse

Guide To Writing Forbidden Love

20 Mistakes To Avoid in YA/Romance

Balancing Fluff and Conflict

 Best Friends To Lovers Resources

How to develop an Emeies-To-Lovers story

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[Image Description: Tag reading “Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers (repeat for 100 years)”]

The AO3 Tag of the Day is: I recommend marriage counseling